Dead Girls Don't Cry (19 page)

“There’s a new structure,” Ian said.

“The greenhouse. It’s magnificent. That can’t be glass.” I headed toward it, fascinated by the clear walls. The dome was a solid and shiny, reflecting the mid-day sun.

“A force field,” Ian suggested.

“Definitely more ship technology,” I said, pushing opening the door. “This feels solid enough.”

The temperature inside was at least fifty degrees warmer. Humid air clung to my skin, weighing my hair down. Rows of white planters lined the floor and hung from suspended frames. Holes were positioned equally apart, each filled with a small, leafy plant. At timed intervals, fine mist sprayed onto the roots as the trays rotated around the room. The earthy smell of green plants permeated the air. My new favorite place.

So many questions, where to start?

Ian let out a shrill whistle. “Oy? Anyone in here?”

“Over here!” was the immediate reply. Beckham, the botanist zombie, popped up from behind the plants. The missing patches of skin and hair he’d been shedding since last time I’d seen him were healed.

“How did you manage to construct this in three days?” was my first question out of the gate.

Beckham picked up a spray bottle and misted a tray of plants. “Easy. We found the parts in the shipping container you and Mr. McDevitt retrieved. Jay figured out how to make the force shield dome work.”

“Where did you get the water?” Ian asked.

“Marron discovered how to convert the liquid trapped in the rocks under the Martian permafrost.” Beckham waved at the overhead sprayers. “We’re using this hydroponic technology to moisturize the plants’ roots. The resulting condensation is recycled back into the system.”

“Beckham, who will eat this?” A week ago the answer would have been obvious – no one, since we were dead. Now, with my stomach rumbles, I wasn’t so sure.

“The plants will be turned into nutritious drinks for the colony.”

I tried not to grimace. Yum, lettuce shakes.

Ian shook his head in disbelief. “Good luck with that one, mate.”

One of the trays squealed. The entire system in our section ground to a halt.

Beckham stopped spritzing. “Damn. Not again. We’re still working out the kinks,” he added apologetically. He turned to leave.

I stopped him, “One more thing. How did these plants grow so large?”

“Remember when I was molting?”

How could I forget? Not rude enough to say so, I nodded.

“Turns out zombie slough makes great fertilizer in Martian soil. Who knew?” He left me standing there with my mouth gaping.

Outside of the dome I blurted out, “Gross!”

“It is a tad bit queasy when you think about it. You, my dear, missed the centuries when humans used their own shit, euphemistically called “night soil” to fertilize crops. Glad I was a vampire by then.”

“No way am I drinking zombie slough shakes.” Acid stung my throat as we departed the greenhouse.

“I don’t know. Add a little sugar and it might be good.” Ian wagged his eyebrows at me.

“Stop before I puke.”

Ian departed and I went to my office. He had rogue matters to attend to and I had mountain sized piles of reports to read. Reams of paper. I jumped out of my chair and left my cubby.

I found Prior’s office, more like a mad scientist’s lair, filled with gadgets, questionable machinery and thingamabobs. The air was stuffy and stale like Prior hadn’t left the room in days.

“Good Ms. Cordial. Was the mission successful?” Prior wore ridiculous goggles. Around the thick lenses were a variety of appendages designed to slide over the eyepieces. He reminded me of a Swiss Army Knife.

I blinked at him twice, then remembered everyone thought we were searching for the missing crates. After affixing the appropriate regretful expression on my face, I said, “No luck this time.” I hurried on before Prior could de-rail the conversation. “I’ve come on a different matter. Where does this paper come from?”

Prior laced his fingers around the lapels of his coat. Yes, he wore a suit jacket over his jumpsuit. Weirdo. I could see the proverbial long explanation lodged at the back of this throat ready to entrap me for an hour.

“Wait.” I held up my hand. “Forget the question. From this point on, I want communication to be electronic. No more paper wasting. Make it so.”

I left before he could utter a word of protest.

Jay awaited me when I returned to my office. “Incredible,” he shook his head, “where does he find the paper?”

“Oh, he’s using your text books.”

Jay’s head whipped around, expression dark, “He is?”

“No,” I laughed. “But I did tell Prior no more paper wasting. I want everything electronically.”

“Cherry, you do realize there is no internet system on Mars, right?” Jay settled into the plastic chair in front of my desk.

“Aww, too bad. No more reports. A win-win to me.” I hefted one huge paper pile and stacked against the wall behind my desk chair. “Pity the poor trees that died to make these useless memos.”

“If you read the reports, then you’d know Beckham figured out why his plants grew so rapidly.”

“I already know because Beckham told me himself,” I said. “Who needs a report when a conversation will do?” Point one to me.

“Here’s something you don’t know. Everyone in the colony has reported the sporadic return of bodily functions of some sort.” Jay huffed on his fingernails then buffed them on his jumpsuit. Ten points to Jay.

“When did it start?” I had a sinking feeling I didn’t need a memo to know the answer.

“When you were away. On the first day.”

Shit. The day we encountered the Lake Lady. What had we awoken?

I told Jay about the caves. The hallway of history, the blue walkways and the water. “I want you to lead a team into those caves. Discover what you can. But be careful. Time may work differently in there.”

“I’ll pull my team together right now.” I hadn’t seen Jay this giddy in too long.

“One more thing. Ian thinks the pictures may be of our…” I couldn’t make the words come out because the more I thought about it, the more questions I had. Unanswerable questions. The kind of questions, that when you learned the answers, transformed your life. And not always for the better.

“Of what?” Jay prompted.

I waved a dismissive hand at him. “It can’t be possible.”

Jay’s lips pressed into a thin line. His face worn an expression of –
why do I have to put up with you
? “Tell me. Then we can think of a solution together.”

“Fine. The cave dwellers are ancient vampire ancestors.”

Jay didn’t say anything. From long years of experience, I could tell he was mulling over the information. Weighing it. Analyzing. His answer wasn’t unexpected.

“I’ll have to see for myself.”

“Good. Now that’s settled. Where in this stack can I find the reports on the biological changes?”

~ * * * ~

Hours later, I rested my aching head on the desk’s paper-littered surface. When did Prior find the time to write this much stuff? There must be clones of him running around. I toyed with the idea for a while because thinking about the information in the reports made me break out into a cold sweat. Which is really hard to do when you’re dead.

According to reported accounts, for several hours, colonists experienced heartbeats, rumbling stomachs, and aversion to extreme temperatures. So maybe I’d break out in a real cold sweat sometime soon. I faced the back wall and threw my hands to the sky, “What did I do to deserve this?”

And more importantly, what was I supposed to
do
about it?

“Knock, knock,” When I turned around Ian’s cheerful face greeted me. “Joining the Moon Cult, are we?” he quipped.

Embarrassed, I dropped my arms. “I assume you’ve heard the latest news?”

Ian sat in the orange plastic chair, “Oh yea. From what I’ve gathered, the Pulse,” he used air quotes, “as they’re calling it, affected everyone in some way. Revenants, zombies, vamps.”

“Yeah, well, it freaked the hell out of me.” I didn’t really miss using the bathroom. Or having to shave my legs and pits. Or suddenly aging and turning to an ash pile. Fear pinged around my ribcage. “We need to get out of here.”

“We need to be calm and not panic.” Ian leaned over my desk and grasped my hands. “This might not be a bad thing. Let’s wait and see what secrets the caves reveal.”

Ian’s steadfast gaze and calm demeanor seeped into my soul, taming my fear. Our emotional link seemed to be holding fast.

“I don’t want to die, Ian.” I said in a small, quiet voice. Did that make me ungrateful? I’d already outlived my mortal lifespan, yet was greedy for more time.

“That won’t happen. Not today. Or anytime soon.” He gave my palms a reassuring squeeze. He pulled me upright, our hands clasped together as I circled around the desk. “Ready for the mess hall?”

“Yup. Time to reassure the masses.” A small smile touched my lips.

“Come here. I could use a hug.”

Comforted by the cage of Ian’s embrace, the tenseness in my neck and shoulders melted away. Mint permeated his clothes and soothed my nerves. I clamped my mouth shut so I wouldn’t utter something ridiculous like –
you complete me
to him.

With a great deal of regret and effort, I stepped back. “Ready?”

He chuckled, holding the door open for me. “After you, my sweet.”

Ian waited until we entered the hall before saying, “Oh forgot to mention, Beckham is serving his special milkshakes.”

After threatening to puke on his pillow, Ian stopped the jokes. We passed the evening in the company of the others. Despite the turmoil and recent changes, the mood was light. Almost jovial. Ian and I occupied a table in the center of the room.

“Do you notice anything different, luv?” he asked while casually shuffling a deck of cards.

I took a long, careful look around the room. Nothing jumped out at me at first. Like a lightning bolt, it struck me. “They’re mingling.” Vampires sat with zombies. Louis played chess with a revenant clad in the Moon Clan acolyte robes. Pearl and Nina were telling bawdy jokes to an assembled crowd that included representatives from all the undead races.

“You’d never see this on Earth,” I remarked.

“No.” Ian dealt the cards. Their soft swish across the table brought back unpleasant memories of my father’s gambling.

I pushed my chair back. “Raincheck? I need to wrap up a few things before retiring for the night.”

Ian shrugged. “Of course.” A knowing frown furrowed his brow, quickly replaced with a smile. “Sleep tight.”

“You too, Ian.”

I didn’t really have any paperwork to do. I wanted to visit the greenhouse again. I exited the main dome and went outside. Nights on Mars were frigid. Colder than Earth. Even though the chill didn’t affect me, my clothes stiffened as I walked. A partially constructed tube connecting the greenhouse to an adjacent building waited for the next day to be finished. Not that I needed it to find the greenhouse. A beacon, it blazed with bright yellow light. The entire interior was fully visible. Even at a distance, it was obvious the plants were larger and greener than earlier in the day.

Moisture settled on my skin the moment I entered the building. The earthy smell of green grass on a hot day coated my nose and throat, stirring nostalgic memories of Austin. In an instant, the hothouse was my new favorite place. With hands outstretched on either side, I ran my fingertips over the glossy leaves and damp root balls.

Pure bliss. I sniffed, scenting the air. I gagged. What was that vile smell? The rotten stench soured my mood. The source was a large, open vat of gray zombie skin floating in milky white liquid. A web of tubing led out of the vat directly into the hydroponic watering system. Double gack.

Once I moved away from the area, the smell subsided
.

It’s no different than using cow manure as fertilizer
, I reminded myself.

Satisfied with my new outlook, I continued my tour, thinking how great it would be to work among the plants and budding fruit trees. I doubted I could move my office inside, but maybe I could volunteer my time when I wasn’t acting as a glorified paper pusher.

At the moment, it appeared the caretakers were elsewhere for the evening. The rotating trays were motionless, the misters silent. For the first time since we had escaped with our lives, peace settled into my heart.

An awful awareness smacked me in the face. I’d go nuts if I never saw a tree again. Or lay in the sun on the warm grass. I shook my head. I couldn’t afford to indulge in despair anymore. If I didn’t have a positive attitude, I could damage the morale of the whole colony.

I balled my fists by my side and straightened my spine. Time to grow up.
Yes, I could do this
.

Resolve firmed each step as I chose to find the good in the situation. These plants lived.
On Mars
. A feat that human scientists would insist was impossible. The undead did this. Zombies, no less. Creatures that revenants and vampires looked down their noses at as inferior. I’d bet money someday the zombies would find a way for vegetation to thrive outside.