Page 27 of Where There's Smoke

Desperate for more distraction, I turned to Ranya. “Makes you wonder, what would happen if like half the politicians at the Capitol turned into zombies? Think they’d try and eat the others, or would they shuffle out because there are no brains in that group?”

Anthony looked at me, then Ranya, his brow furrowed as if to sayare you two really having this conversation?

“Well, it depends,” Ranya said matter-of-factly. “Which half is the zombies? The Dems or the Repubs?”

“Hmm.” I stroked my chin with my thumb and forefinger. “I’m not really sure.”

“Well, that will probably make a difference, don’t you think?”

Anthony rolled his eyes and pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket. He cracked his window and took out his lighter.

“I guess it would make a difference,” I said.

“Of course it would,” Ranya said. “Think about it. The Dems are the smart ones, so if they’re the zombies, they aren’t going to want to eat the brains of the idiotic Repubs. Assuming they evenhavebrains.”

“Oh, good point,” I said. “And if the Repubs are the zombies, they’ll be too stupid to figure out how to actually go about eating brains. And then—”

Clink.

Anthony’s lighter flicked to life, and my train of thought stopped dead on the tip of my tongue.

“I…um…” Well, apparently I was safe from zombies for the time being.

“Jesse?” Ranya cocked her head. “You all right?”

Anthony sucked in some smoke before eyeing me too, his brow furrowing with something that might have been concern if not for the smirk on his lips.

I cleared my throat. “Well, I mean. I guess I just can’t imagine a Republican’s brain would be that much of a meal. Lack of use and all that.”

Anthony’s lips contorted but then parted to release a breath of smoke out the window.

Ranya uncrossed and recrossed her legs. “You would think all the idiots’ brains would be completely atrophied from lack of use, so I can’t imagine they’d taste good.”

Some color slipped out of Anthony’s cheeks, and I thought he shuddered.

“Beggars can’t be choosers, right?” I said.

“True, but still.” She folded her hands on top of her knee. “And you know what sucks? Stupid people would escape by virtue of not having enough brains to attract zombies in the first place. But then of course they’ll wind up dying because they can’t strategize like smart people. They might not end up consumed by zombies, but they’ll drive off a cliff or poke themselves in the eyes with pitchforks while those of us with actual brains, those whoshouldsurvive, will be targeted by the zombies like blood-marinated zebras being targeted by lions.”

“Lovely,” Anthony muttered more to himself than us.

“So essentially,” I said, stroking my chin like this was truly serious stuff, “the zombie apocalypse would wind up targeting the fit and the healthy like a walking, groaning version of the Spanish flu.”

“Except stupid peopledohave brains,” Ranya countered. “They just don’t use them. So I guess it’s less a question of whether idiots like congressmen would be edible. More of a question of what kind of dining that would be for the zombies.”

Anthony grimaced and looked away.

“Good point,” I said.

“So I guess in that sense,” she went on, “it could be argued that a brain that’s had some use could be tough and gamy, while someone who doesn’t use theirs would have something a little more…” She snapped her fingers a couple of times, eyes losing focus as she presumably searched for the word.

“More like veal, I guess.”

“Oh my God,” Anthony groaned, grimacing like he was about to puke.

Ranya laughed behind her hand. “You all right?”

“Fine,” he croaked.

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