Kiss of Life (32 page)

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who want to meet you, Pete. And you will want to meet them. You have a lot in common."

Pete didn't say anything. Duke's hand was on his shoulder, and Duke's pale eyes stared at him with almost fatherly affection. The girl in the laboratory was like a squirrel that Pete had backed over a few weeks after Darren had bought him the car. Clipped by a tire, it's back half was crushed and it flopped around in the pine needles and dirt of one of the make-out spots around Lake Oxoboxo, not aware that it was already dead. Although Pete's date begged him not to, Pete got out of his car and put the little rodent out of its misery with the heel of his high-top sneaker. It took a while, but it was his responsibility to make sure the job was done right.

He'd been to the spot many times since, although never again with that girl. Looking up at Davidson, he realized that his hands had stopped shaking.

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CHAPTER FORTY

"ARE YOU ...SURE
...this ...is a ...good ...idea?" Sitting in the bleachers above the field. Phoebe said it's cold outside can't tell too cold for Frisbee another bright idea. Phoebe wears heavy coat with the fake fur lining on hood and cuffs, black mittens hard-to-play-catch-with mittens. Hood up, black fur framing white face. Like snow. Her eyes. Her pretty green eyes. "What do you mean? Our big date?"

Hard coming to the field. Don't need to close eyes to imagine the snap of the ball and the crack of hitting shoulder pads. Can hear the crowd, smell the turf and sweat. Shake head, shake.

"You ...and ...me."

Phoebe takes hand. Strokes cheek with other mitten. "Adam, you aren't going to break up with me, are you?" "No," too quickly. "Don't...want...to."

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"Then what is it? Are you afraid of what people would think?"

Hardly. "Afraid ... of what...people ...will do."

Phoebe turns thinking. Looks at field into the past sees Adam running blocking winning. Looks at field sees into the future sees what?

"Adam," holding arm, huddling against as though for warmth no warmth to give. "Are you happy?"

"Happy as ... a dead ...guy ...can be."

"Being with me, I mean?"

"Being ...with ...you." Only with you. Feels more than happy. Feels like life.

"I'm happy too. Happier than I've ever been, I think." Crow flies across field. Ungraceful but swift. "It won't be easy, Adam. It never is." "Scared."

"You're scared? Of what? Me getting hurt?" "Yes."

Had to say it. Didn't want to say it admit it but Phoebe needs to know. Phoebe thinks fearless but not true. Terrified.

"I'm scared for you too, Adam. The way the world is now there is a much better chance of something happening to you than to me."

"Not...true. Worst...already ... in past."

"No." Wish could feel mittens as they hold cheeks. Wish could feel smell her breath as she looks into eyes. Cinnamon. Phoebe liked cinnamon gum. Can only imagine. "The worst would be that I lost you, really lost you, without having given us a chance."

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Kiss, light. Close eyes and alive again, Phoebe alive in my arms and hold her and kiss back and breathe her and don't let her go.

Open eyes, still dead.

"Okay?" Light snow starts to fall, tiny flakes settle in fur lining. Nod.

"O ...
kay."

Pats hand, gets cell phone from deep pocket. "I better call Margi. I don't want her to have to drive us when this starts to stick. Good thing we all live so close."

"Good ...thing."

"I hope this lets up by tomorrow, otherwise Margi's parents won't let her drive to the train station." Brushes hair back. Pretty. Listens to phone, Margi's voice. Margi's loud voice. Be there in five, hang up. Quick call.

"Wish ...wish could stay ...longer."

"Me too," Phoebe, snow melting on cheek, catching hair. Shivering. "I wish it wasn't so cold."

Wish.

Wish could warm her. Wish could chase the shivers away. Can't.

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CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

"C
AN't ...believe... I let

... you talk ...me ...into this." Phoebe leaned against Adam in the backseat of Margi's car, resting a cheek against his unyielding arm. They were just outside of New Haven on their way to the train station for another trip to Aftermath.

"I can't either, but I'm glad I did." She was nervous, though, because Adam hadn't gone any farther than Winford since becoming a zombie. "You'll have fun, you'll see."

"Too bad ...Karen ...couldn't come," Colette said from the shotgun seat as she toyed with the radio dial. Margi snorted.

"Less competition." Margi gave Colette a wicked grin. "Not that
you 're
worried about that."

"Is Karen working today?" Phoebe asked. "Christmas ...season. Never get ...away ...now." Margi ignored this thread and addressed Phoebe and Adam in the backseat.

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"Did you guys know that DeCayce has e-mailed Colette like seventeen times since they met? Which was what, three weeks ago?"

"Seventeen times?" Phoebe leaned over and caught Colette smiling.

"Who's ...DeCayce?"

"Just ...ignore her, Adam," Colette said. "Besides, it was ...nineteen ...times."

"Oh, excuse me, nineteen times. Colette's getting ready for some zombie lovin'."

Colette slapped her arm, and Margi looked into the rearview at Phoebe and mouthed the word "sorry." Phoebe stuck out her tongue at her and squeezed Adam's arm more tightly by way of reply.

"Are Skeleton Crew playing tonight, Colette?" She'd noticed that Colette was wearing makeup and a new-looking silky blouse. Her hair was brushed back and had a glossy shine--Phoebe wondered if she was using products from the Z line. Whatever she was using was working. She looked great.

Margi answered before Colette could get a word in. "Are you kidding? Do you think we'd be going if they weren't?"

"They are ...playing. Last night...before ...road trip."

"Send him off smiling, C.B.," Margi said. "Send him off smiling. Are you going to dance tonight, Lame Man? Or are you going sit in the corner like a giant wallflower?"

"He'll ...dance ...won't you, Adam?"

"I'm a ...dancing ...machine." He looked at Phoebe and tried to smile.

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Phoebe was thinking that he didn't really get a chance to dance at homecoming, having ditched his date to take her and the rest of the crew over to the after-party at the Haunted House. But then she remembered that he did dance--with Karen, once they'd arrived.

"You'll dance with me, won't you, Adam?"

"You'll...owe ...me," he said.

She leaned her head back down against his hard shoulder. "I already do," she whispered.

The club was jumping when they arrived, the dance floor packed with what looked like twice the people than had been there on their previous visit. The increase in population was due almost completely to trad kids--there were loose groups of trads dancing by themselves without any zombies in their midst. The zombies, she noticed, also had a tendency to cluster together. She held Adam's hand as they walked in. Margi and Colette brushed by them, looking for DeCayce. "Wow. Look at all ...the zombies."

"Isn't it amazing?" Phoebe squeezed his hand, and leaned closer so he could hear her over the loud trip-hop that pulsed from invisible speakers. "I can't believe what Skip has done here."

"Skip? That's right...this is ...Skip's ...place."
f
She nodded. "Tommy did a nice interview with him. I

posted it on mysocalledundeath."

Adam looked up, scanning the room and taking in the sights and sounds. A trad couple walked by and gave them an

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odd look, which Phoebe decided to take as "good for you!" She felt Adam's hand tighten over hers.

The lights were like blue and white rain splashing on his skin.

"Want to ...dance?"

"I'd love to," she said, and let him lead her out into the throng on the dance floor.

They were joined three songs later by Margi and Colette, who had managed to find DeCayce and Bee. Bee paired off with Margi, although neither of them looked thrilled. Colette and DeCayce, on the other hand, were dancing with their faces only inches apart, although the song that was playing wasn't a slow one. Phoebe watched them, fascinated by their obvious chemistry. She wondered if the people who stopped to watch her and Adam did so for the same reason.

"They look ...happy," Adam said, reconfirming her belief in telepathetic bonds.

"I think I look happy," she replied, stepping into him for a hug. His arms were slow in enfolding her, but she knew that wasn't the same thing as hesitation.

"I think ...you look ...beautiful."

"Aw, I bet you say that to all the trad girls."

She was always amazed by how his embrace was firm yet gentle at the same time--she knew he couldn't really feel how tightly he was holding her. He was probably strong enough to snap her spine or crush her ribs; his arms felt like steel clamps as they went around her waist.

A song or two later, Dom, the guitarist for Skeleton Crew, came over to tell DeCayce and Bee that they were on in ten

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minutes. The boys said their good-byes, DeCayce with a quick kiss to Colette's cheek and a promise to see her after the show. Dom, turning, caught sight of Phoebe and asked her how Karen was doing.

"She's great." Phoebe replied. "She got a job at the mall, if you can believe it."

Dom looked puzzled. "Why wouldn't I believe it?"

"Well, not a lot of zombies work at malls." When Dom just stood there looking stunned she realized she may have said something she shouldn't have. "You knew she was a zombie, right?"

"She said she was," he said, his voice barely audible above the music. "I thought she was kidding." He shook his head, his thick hair waving as he stared at the floor. "Wow."

"I'll tell her you said hi?" Phoebe asked, hoping Karen wouldn't want to kill her.

"Oh, yeah, absolutely! Would you do that for me? That would be great," he said, answering the question behind her question.

"You know, she has e-mail too."

"Yeah," he said, gathering himself as though suddenly realizing how cool he was. "I'm not much on tolerating."

"Seems to be ...working ...for your ...singer," Adam said.

"Yeah, well. Tell her I said hi, though, okay?" Dom said, and then started angling through the crowd.

When Skeleton Crew hit the stage, they hit it hard. They led off with a new song DeCayce announced as "The Dead Living,"

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and Dom's shredding opening riff could blow the dust off a tired soul. The drums came in a moment later like a nest of machine guns, and Bee's bass line was a cavalry charge. The crowd's response was immediate. Phoebe looked around her to see dead bodies pogo-ing and slamming into each other, although with considerably less velocity than their living friends could muster. She saw a girl lifted up over the crowd, her body rigid, as many dead hands passed her to the stage. She looked like she had rigor mortis. Phoebe felt the tug of the music on her body, but when she looked at Adam he seemed to be unmoved, even when DeCayce's chorus sailed out over the fast

rhythm of his band.

"We are the dead living

Upfront underground

Went through hell getting out

You won't put us back down!"

Other bodies were borne aloft, and the whole crowd was singing along when he repeated the chorus a second time.

"There's ... Margi," Adam said, pointing at a body bobbing like a cork on the sea of hands.

Phoebe squinted against the glare of the stage lights.

"Colette too! See her, just stepping onto the stage?"

Adam nodded. DeCayce, his sinewy body twitching as if he were being electrocuted, waved at Colette and then Margi to join him at the front of the stage where they sang the next chorus with him, Colette almost managing to sing the words in the proper time with the music. When the song was over they both

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returned to the crowd, and the lights were cut to a single spot that bathed DeCayce's bare skin with a bluish glow.

"Thank ...you," he said to the cheering crowd. "And thank you to our ...beautiful ...backup singers, Colette ...and Margi."

Adam bellowed an incomprehensible cheer, which pleased Phoebe to no end.

"This is our ...last night... at Aftermath ...for a while," DeCayce said. He folded his skinny arms to his chest, hugging himself while the crowd moaned in disappointment. "But we'll be ...back. Hell, if I can return ...from death ... I can make it back ... to Aftermath."

He was a natural performer, Phoebe thought. The melodrama of his movements, the easy banter with the crowd--she couldn't help but wonder what he'd have been like onstage when still alive.

"We've got to hit ...the road," he continued. "We've got to bring ...our music ...and our message ... to the rest of the country. So that trad people will know ...we're not...monsters or ...grave robbers. We're not what that old gargoyle ... Mathers ... says we are. We're just... people, man."

The crowd settled into a disgruntled mumble at the mention of Mathers's name, and DeCayce used the lull to deliver his message full force, his voice rising in tone and timbre to match the best of the fire and brimstone preachers, to rival even Reverend Nathan Mathers himself.

"We've got to let people know that...what they are saying about...our brothers and sisters ... in Connecticut...that they