Page 49 of Perfectly Perplexing Zombie

Stover shoved the amphora out of sight, and his hand followed the object’s path. I could see the fisted outline beneath his loose pants pocket. The stack of papers I’d piled on top of his desk began toppling, and I reached out and grabbed them before they could flutter to the floor.

“Wow, you really do need to clean off your desk,” I chuckled while shifting paraphernalia this way and that, desperately trying to make a spot for the desk’s newest burden. “If you need some help sorting, just let me know. I don’t mind organizing things.” I wasn’t a stickler for organization, but I liked it when everything was in its place.

“Thank you, Wendall,” Stover tersely answered. “I appreciate the offer, but it’s a bit like organized chaos. It may not look like, but I know where everything is.” He laughed. “I know it doesn’t appear that way.”

“Hey, whatever works for you.” I smiled back. “I know you’re busy. I got everything done with the tests. You’ve just got to hand them back.”

“Thank you again. I’m not sure what I’d do without you, Wendall.”

My neck prickled, and my stomach felt like lead as I heard me respond, “I don’t think that’ll be a worry.”Oh, how wrong I’d been.

“No? I suppose one never knows. Life seems never-ending when you’re young.”

“I suppose so.”

I wanted to wipe the remembered grin from my face. I wanted to stomp forward, get up in Stover’s face, and punch him square in the jaw. Muriel said this was my world, but I was trying to stay as close to the memory as possible. I didn’t want to alter it, and besides, it’s not like socking Stover would get me anywhere. It might have offered a bit of satisfaction, but it would have been hollow, especially if changing the memory caused me to miss something important.

“I better get going,” I said, my voice light and full of naïve ignorance.

“Take care,” Stover answered.

His lips pulled into a thin smile, and his eyes didn’t necessarily look hard, but they did appear thoughtful. I hadn’t thought anything of it at the time. Why would I? Professor Stover was a busy man and often had a lot on his mind. Or, at least, that’s how I’d always thought of him. Looking back on things now, I didn’t think I was exactly wrong, but I’d probably misjudged what had so thoroughly preoccupied his thoughts.

I walked out of Stover’s office. The hall I entered was dark. It was late at night, and the building would close soon. As Professor Stover’s teaching assistant, I had a key to the building, but I didn’t like being there at night with most of the lights turned off. There was something infinitely creepy about large buildings typically filled with commotion whose voices were now silenced.

The hallway grew darker, and Muriel’s voice pulled me toward a pinprick light at the end. The light was warm and grew brighter. It pushed away the shadows and pulled me toward it. I went willingly and with an infinite sense of relief.

“Wendall? Sugar, you with us?” Muriel’s deep brown skin and even deeper brown eyes pulled me from my stuporous memory and back to the here and now. Her warm, welcoming smile crinkled the skin around her eyes. “Welcome back.”

I blinked. My gaze flickered from face to face. Johnny was beaming at me like a loon. Peaches’s wings furiously beat while he clung to Mr. Moony’s arm. Golden pixie dust covered the room in a golden haze, filtering the light and giving everyone an ethereal glow.

Pressure on my hand pulled my attention to my right. Ray was there, crouched low so his gaze was even with mine. His eyes swam in mesmerizing flames. Without much thought, I reached out and ran the pads of my fingers down his soft skin. Those ocular flames flared before banking low.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “I know it’s silly, that it was just a memory, but I was scared. I didn’t want to get Professor Stover’s attention. Knowing you were with me helped.”

“I am pleased to hear it.” Ray gave my fingers another squeeze,

I cried out in pain.

“Wendall?” Muriel and Ray’s voices blended together in surround sound. “What’s wrong?” Again, they mimicked each other, and I couldn’t tell where the words came from.

Yanking my hand free, both my arms wrapped around my cramping gut. “H-hurts,” I managed to say past gritted teeth.

“What hurts?” Ray asked. I didn’t think I’d ever heard him sound panicked, but that was exactly what came through.

“He used up a lot of energy,” Muriel answered. “Wendall might be different from the others, but he’s still a zombie.” Her voice quieted as she turned her head and ordered, “He needs food. There should be something in his refrigerator. The containers are labeled. I just brought over some fresh brain yesterday. Grab that one and a couple more if he’s got them.”

“On it,” Peaches chirped and was off in a dash of golden dust.

“Damn, he’s fast,” Johnny muttered, but his words were little more than a distant hum against the fresh cramps painfully doubling me over.

I’d never felt this hungry before, this desperate. I wanted to eat, and right now, I didn’t care where that food came from.

Ray grabbed both my arms, pulling them away from my abdomen. I didn’t know if it was what he intended, but I folded into his arms. Ray’s neck was there, blood pulsing below the surface. I didn’t want the blood, not like a vampire did. The flesh was what appealed, and it smelled sooooo good.

I could feel my self-awareness fading. Hunger was all I knew, and it was a desperate craving that pushed every other thought aside.

Ray’s flesh was so soft, so supple, and so delicious. I bit down. Zombies had human-grade teeth. We didn’t slice through flesh like a vampire. We painfully gnawed. Ray’s body stiffened, but he didn’t push me away. He cupped the back of my head, holding my face and mouth to his shoulder.

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