Zombies in Love (19 page)

Lisa felt pretty damn good as she parked her car.  Okay, she had several thousand dollars worth of front end damage to her Toyota which would mean she’d have to spend a lot of time talking to her insurance agent, time she’d honestly rather spend shoving needles in her eyes.  And her neck was going to kill her tomorrow, though she bet Sam’s would be worse.  But she, totally unarmed little Lisa Alioto, wouldn’t hurt a fly (with maybe one exception), had managed to save herself from a crazy murderer with a loaded handgun about a foot away from her.

How badass was she?  Oh, so badass.

Plus, there was absolutely no trouble from the police, even though she’d dinged up a few bricks on their nice building.  When she told them the whole story, and delivered Sam to them, plus the handgun with only his prints all over it... Well.  They were all very impressed.

It probably didn’t hurt that
her high school buddy Ed happened to work for the Everett Police Department.
Suck on that, Lazarus!

But now she had to call Jack.  Had she forgiven him?  Not a chance.  But she had to tell him about his dad, just in case Sam wasn’t lying about everything.  And she probably ought to tell Jack what she did to his cousin.
Wham!  Splat!  You should have see his face when I drove right into the wall!

That’s what he gets for killing you...

And now she knew why Jack kept quiet about how he died.  It was family stuff.  She understood that.  Families were private.  But his right to hide it from her officially ended when his cousin tried to kill her, too. 

Then again, Jack might have an excuse.  He might not have thought his cousin was dangerous to anyone else.  She could understand that, too-- the only time Sam seemed to wake up all the way is when his cousin's name was mentioned.  Jack might have picked up on that. 

Or maybe Jack was too self-absorbed to worry about how his problems might affect other people.  Like when he tried to keep her from knowing that she'd been infected.  Maybe she'd found yet another guy who was always about himself, never about her.

Had she really read him so wrong?  What about all the times she came downstairs to find him doing her work, so she wouldn't have to?  What did all of that mean?  Was it just a ploy to keep her from firing him?

What had Jack done to Sam, anyway? 

And, lost in thought, she opened to the door to her apartment and walked upstairs, not even noticing that the door hadn’t been locked.

             
She looked up and saw five guys in white jumpsuits looking right back at her.  "Oh, hell," she said.  "Not again."

#

              "So you're helping us because you'll get your PhD?" asked Arturo, the zombie who looked a lot like Winnie-the-Pooh.

“Uh-huh," said Ian.  "Besides, I’m one of you."

Arturo looked him over dubiously. 

“I mean, I’m infected.”

“You don’t smell infected.”  Arturo gestured to Jack, who was hovering next to the cages that held the Winthrop guys. 
Like a cat outside a birdcage,
thought Ian, with a shiver.  “Jack, come on over here and smell Ian.  Is he infected?”

Jack shook his head.  “Sure isn’t.”

“I’m not infected?” said Ian. 
That means I’m just a guy trapped in a basement with a bunch of hungry zombies... Sarah, you liar!

“Do you want to be infected?  I can bite you if you want," said Jack.

“Not really,” said Ian.

A loud thump came from the door, like a battering ram.  “They’re going to get in here eventually,” said Arturo.  “Do you have a cell phone, Ian?”

“Sure,” said Ian.

“Call the police,” said Arturo.  “Tell them that there are several people held captive in the basement.”

“This isn’t Boston,” said Ian.  “The cops are private.  Like these guys.”  He pointed to the white-jumpsuited men in the cages.

“Then call the Boston police.”

“They won’t go on Winthrop property.  I know because the undergrads behind me had a party once.  It was eleven o’clock.  I had to study, but they just kept laughing and playing Bob Marley,
No Woman No Cry
.”  He grimaced.  “I hate undergrads.”

“So what do we do?” said Arturo.  “Ideas, people!”

“I’ve got an idea,” said Jack, and smiled at Ian in a way that made all the blood drain from his head.

#

The man in the white jumpsuit ripped the duct tape from Lisa’s face, and she let fly a stream of profanity strong enough to turn the air blue.  She rubbed her face with her newly untied hand and looked around the room.  She was sitting in a leather chair in some kind of snooty men’s club.  There was a fat guy in the chair opposite her, and a whole bunch of guards.  “Who the hell are you people?” asked Lisa.  "And what am I doing here?"

“Please excuse the imposition, Miss Alioto,” said one of the men.  “I am Mr. Dudley.  I speak for Winthrop University’s Board of Overseers.  Would you care for a drink?”

“Hell, no,” said Lisa. 

“I apologize for the disrespectful way that your arrival was handled.  But it was necessary that it be done this way, in order to preserve some secrecy."

Lisa crossed her arms and glared at him.

"As I said," said Mr. Dudley.  "I regret the need to be disrespectful.  But I have made a study of your character, Miss Alioto, and I believe that above all things you respect the truth.  Winthrop University would like to buy your building."

A snort of disbelief from Lisa.  "Why?  Because it worked out so well in Allston?"

Mr. Dudley relaxed in his chair.  "At Winthrop, we take the long view.  Yes, we ran out of money for the project in Allston.  But we have a substantial endowment.  The markets will rebound, given enough time, and the Allston project will be completed.  And this is a fine time to invest in real estate.  Somerville is our next frontier."

"Like I said to Tina, the answer is a firm no."

"I understand that you have a family business.  And of course you treasure those associations, as would I.  But Miss Alioto, you have no children.  No obvious heirs.  Forty years from now, will you still relish the prospect of waking early every morning to run your business?  I may say, through sad experience, that eventually the flesh begins to fail, and that we all crave our rest."

Yes
, she thought,
but I'll be like Jack, I'll be able to run the business forever
... She couldn't do it.  No.  It hurt her even to think about it, no freedom, never, not even in death.

To distract herself, she asked him something else.  "Why do you even want to expand into Somerville?  This campus is huge."

"We are the most powerful university in America," said Mr. Dudley.  "Our role is to educate the world."

"What an arrogant thing to say."

"I never claimed that we were free from arrogance.  But if it weren't us, it would be someone else.  Columbia, maybe, or Yale.  Someone must be the king.  And I would much rather it were us, so ever onward, ever onward.  All we ask of you, Miss Alioto, is a promise that you will leave your land to us in your will.  In return, we will give you as much money as you can reasonably desire."

It was tempting.  It would have been even more tempting if she hadn't known she was infected.  She had to think. 

"Is it a difficult decision?  Is there some relative whom you would rather designate as your heir?  Some cause dear to your heart?"

She slowly shook her head.

"I was correct," said Mr. Dudley.  "I am so sorry, Miss Alioto."

She shivered.  "What are you talking about?"

"You had an employee.  A Mr. Jack Kershaw."

"Yeah, I did, and I fired him."

"Your employee was-- not to mince words-- a zombie."

"What are you talking about?"  Lisa stood up, sensing movement behind her.  "Are you people crazy?  What do you mean, zombie?"

Mr. Dudley shook his head.  "Miss Alioto, you are a terrible liar.  And Miss Chen-- I'm sorry, Dr. Chen-- told us all about you."

Obviously pretending ignorance wasn't going to do her any good.  "All right.  You want my land.  You're not getting it, and you know why.  So let me go."

"I'm sorry, Miss Alioto.  But you're infected.  I can't let you leave." 

Lisa opened her mouth and then shut it. 
Goddamn it, Jack, why do you keep doing this to me?

             
At least they treated her well, thought Lisa.  She was allowed to roam around the club room at will, and to talk to Sarah Chen, for as long as the girl stayed conscious.  "You want to cut back on those," said Lisa to Sarah, who was slurping up her drink.  Lisa knew she should be angry, but every time she looked at the girl she thought,
Young.  Young and stupid.

              "No, no," said Sarah.  "I've got a plan.  See, when they catch all the zombies, and all the infected people, they're going to kill us all."

              "And your plan is--"

              "To be so drunk that I won't know it's happening," said Sarah.  "Did you ever hear about the gargoyles on this building?"  Her voice dropped to a whisper.  "They're alive."

              Lisa looked through the window.  Yes, this tower had an amazing number of gargoyles on it.  And they were fifteen stories above the ground, which was actually scarier.  "I was looking for you."

              "That's nice," said Sarah, and giggled.  "Did you find me?"

              "I wanted to know-- if I'm infected, am I contagious?"

              "Contagious?"

              "Because if we are, we can go sneeze on those guys."

              "No, we're not contagious.  Even the zombies aren't that contagious.  You'd have to exchange-- wait, how did you get infected?  Did one of the zombies bite you?  Or bleed on you?"

              For the first time in what had to have been years, Lisa found herself blushing.  "I'm not really sure when it happened."

              "Ew!" said Sarah, a look of utter horror on her face.  "Oh, my God!  Ew!  Ew!  Ew!"  She clamped a hand over her mouth.  "You're going to make me lose all my alcohol!"

#

“I won’t do it,” said Ian, trying to look resolute.

“But you could,” said Jack, his blue eyes nearly glowing with intensity.  Was he the creepiest individual Ian had ever met?  Oh, yes.  “You remember what you did.  We’re in a laboratory.”

“I took the lab book from Prof. Leschke’s office,” said Ian.  “Our notes are on it.  I guess I could do it again.”

“Well?”

“Intentionally create more zombies?”

Jack smiled, showing more teeth than any person should possibly have.  “And what’s wrong with that?”

“Yeah, guy,” said Arturo.  “Are you saying you don’t like us?”

How could I say that?
thought Ian.  A giant crash came from the corner of the room, which was one of the other zombies hurling a liquid nitrogen tank into the door of the cage. 

“Quit trying to eat the ones in the cage!  Jesus, people!” said Arturo, as he went over to check the door.

“I mean,” said Ian, “Once is an accident, but twice is--”

“Science,” Jack interrupted.

“What if I get infected?”

“Look, being a ghoul is fun.  You don’t have to sleep.  You could work in the lab all night long.”

“You have to eat people!”

“They’re already dead by the time you get to them.  In fact, the deader, the tastier.  They're no good until the skin starts peeling off when you touch it.  Just like a nice big human banana."

“That’s really gross.”

“And you call yourself a scientist.”

Ian drew himself to his full height, and was surprised to realize that he was actually much taller than Jack.  What had his momma always said about bullies?  Stand up to them, they’re much more scared of you than you are of them!  “I’m not going to do it,” he said resolutely.

A gunshot filled the room with a sulfurous stench.  One of the zombies, bleeding from a stump, was picking his hand up off the floor.

“Yeah, I meant it,” said Arturo.  “Hands off!”  Then he laughed. 

I thought he was the nice one,
thought Ian. 
He looks like Winnie the Pooh! 
Actually, he was starting to look like Winnie the Pooh, just before he eviscerated Piglet.

Jack gently took Ian by the upper arm.  “How about this?  Look around the room, Ian.  This locked room.  Who’s in here with you?  You’re going to make yourself useful, one way or another.”

Ian swallowed.  “I’ll get right to work.”

“Good man.”

#

Sarah was passed out sprawled on the floor, and every so often Lisa came over to tilt her face upwards and make sure she didn’t choke on her own vomit. 

So far, Lisa’s ideas for escaping included:

1.  Jump out window.  She’d die on impact, but she was infected, so that would be all right.  Except she’d be undead
and
horribly mangled.  NO.

2.  Try to escape out another exit.  This would involve getting past the many heavily armed guards, at least one of whom was paying attention to her at all times.  Plus the only exit that she could see was the incredibly slow elevator.  NO.

3.  Throw hair out window, wait for prince.  Which was not in her nature, not even a little.

So while she waited for her brain to come up with some solution to the problem, she thought again how none of this would have happened if she hadn't hired Jack.  He’d walked into her restaurant, wearing mismatched clothes he’d obviously bought at Goodwill, telling her how badly he needed a job.  No watch on his wrist, a tight smile on his face, and a look in his eyes like he didn’t deserve her kindness. And that’s what had gotten her in the end.  He was someone she could take care of, someone who really needed her.  Like walking by the pound and spontaneously coming home with a puppy.

But wasn’t there something patronizing about feeling that way?  Wasn't there something unfair and wrong about dating a guy just because it was the rebellious thing to do?  Acting out like a teenager-- was that what she really wanted?  Wouldn't he have the right to say, "If you really loved me, Lisa, you'd treat me like a man?"

And, okay, he'd lied to her, all the time.  But had she ever told him the whole story about herself?  Even though he obviously wanted to know?  Did she ever say, listen, this wasn't the life I planned, either?  And sometimes I get so tired of being a good girl and running the Alioto Museum that I could take a chainsaw to the place?

She could wish she’d never met him and wish she’d treated him better at the same time. 

#

Arturo, Ian, and Jack looked at the Erlenmeyer flask in Ian’s hand, filled with an ice-blue liquid and covered with a rubber stopper. 
There it is
, thought Jack,
our leverage
, chewing on his finger. 

He was starting to get hungry again-- it had been a few hours since his last snack. 
Should have ripped off both arms,
he thought.  He wasn’t getting stupid yet, but he was stiff and sore and irritable. He bet Arturo was starting to feel it, too.  Better end this as quickly as possible.  “Now we just have to test it.”

“What do you mean?” asked Ian.

“Take the lid off and inhale it,” said Jack.

“Are you insane?”  Ian looked imploringly at Arturo.  “Tell him he’s insane.”

“Makes sense to me,” said Arturo.  “You can’t test it on us, after all.  And it wouldn’t be fair to test it on those guys.  They’re still unconscious.  They can’t consent.”

“I
don’t consent.”

“Dr. Jesse W. Lazear,” said Jack.  Sometimes he wondered how his brain stored all this stuff.  It was like a big, dusty library, filled with true-crime books, old copies of Life magazine, and the complete works of Flannery O’Connor.  With a big magpie librarian in the middle, always grabbing for the next shiny pretty idea and dropping the last one in a big messy heap.

Really sloppy metaphors: always a sign he was losing it.

Ian looked confused and Jack sympathized, he really did.  “Did you know, that scientists used to use themselves as test subjects?  Dr. Lazear allowed himself to be bitten by an infected mosquito to prove how yellow fever was transmitted.”

“Did he die?” asked Ian.

Enough. 
Jack snatched the flask from Ian.  He ripped the stopper off, grabbed Ian by the collar, and held it under his nose.  Ian stumbled backwards, but Arturo caught him before he fell over.

Jack jammed the stopper back on the flask.  “Well, Arturo, what do you think?”

Arturo sniffed Ian and smiled.  “It works!  One of us!  One of us!”

“Hooray,” said Ian.

“Now we just have to call the Board of Overseers--” said Jack, when the phone on the lab bench rang.