One Foot in the Grave: An Almost Zombie Tale (4 page)

He shakes his head.

“Do
you
know what I am?” I feel a bit like the little bird in that kids’ book
Are you My Mother?

“I have my suspicions,” Father Moss says. “But I think it’s something you need to find out for yourself. I
will
tell you this, however. This church, these people…they’re all here for the same reason you are; because none of you fit completely into either reality.”

I blink. “There’s only one reality. Isn’t there?”

Someone knocks at the archway and I turn to see Lydia. “Hey, can I come in?”

“Please,” Father Moss replies. “We were just getting to the sticky part of the conversation, anyway. It might be easier coming from you than from me. Besides, I need to tend to my flock.”

“The freaks.” Sometimes I really just need duct tape for my mouth. I’m sure of it.

“They’re not freaks, Isis,” Lydia corrects me. “They’re halves.”

I feel about as smart as the closest telephone pole. “Halves of what?”

The gargoyle answers me right before he steps through the archway. “Supernaturals, Isis. Just like you.”

“You’re crazy. He’s crazy.” I’m not really sure who I’m talking to at this point, because Father Moss is gone and Lydia is just standing there, staring at me. “This isn’t Narnia. It’s Atlanta.”

Lydia takes the chair I’m sitting in and spins me around so I’m facing the computers. “Type H.V.V. into the search bar.”

I put my hand down on the mouse pad. “Don’t you mean H.I.V?”

“No,” she says. “I mean H.V.V.”

I guess I don’t do it fast enough, because she leans over me and types it into the Google search bar. My heart begins to stutter when I read what appears on the screen.

‘Human Vampiric Virus: A condition found in 0.000000001% of the population in which a human begins to take on the traits and mannerisms of a zombie (including the consumption of raw flesh, decomposition, madness and eventual death). Attributed to the swamps of Louisiana, it is spread via blood to flesh contact. There is speculation whether the virus exists or is, in fact, a rare mental disorder with no known cure.’

I lean back in the chair, pretty much as far away from the screen as I can get without tipping over backwards. “Zombies don’t exist.”

“Tell that to any practitioner of voodoo.”

“I can’t be half a zombie.”

She looks pointedly at my still unwrapped stump. “Your hand tells me a different story.”

I glance down. “You mean because of the lack of blood?” I’m pretty sure I should be freaking out more, but it’s all so unreal.

Lydia peers into my eyes. “I think you’re in shock.”

“I can’t cry,” I blurt, apropos of nothing.

She pats my arm and I shake her off. “No, you don’t understand. It’s not that I don’t
want
to cry. It’s that I can’t. There’s something wrong with my tear ducts.”

“That’s interesting,” Lydia murmurs.

“No. No, it’s not ‘interesting’. It’s freaky and it’s bizarre and it’s weird. But it’s
not
interesting!” My voice rises on the last word.

“You’re not the only one who’s gone through this, I promise.” Her voice calms me down. A bit.

“I’m not? There are others like me? Other half-zombies?”

Her eyes are sympathetic. “We’re all like you, Isis. Well, not Father Moss or me, but everyone else here is a half-something or other.”

“Then what are you?” Maybe that chick in the sanctuary is right. I
am
rude, but it’s too late to take it back now.

“I’m a witch.”

I’m distracted from my own plight, which may have been her intent. “Like in the Salem Witch Trials?” I remember vaguely reading
The Witch of Blackbird Pond
when I was around ten years old. Didn’t that have to do with Salem, or the Puritans, or something?

“Those women
weren’t
witches. The Witch Trials were nothing more than maligned women being drowned and hung for man’s ignorance.”

I swivel the computer chair back around so I can look at her without straining my neck. “Were you—were you one?” I inch the chair back toward the computers. If she’s one of
those
witches, she’s really old…and probably really dangerous.

“I wasn’t one of those women, no.”

Lydia answers the exact question I asked, but I’m not stupid. I rephrase the question. “Were you alive back then?”

“Oh honey, I’ve been alive for
years.
” She laughs and sits down in the chair next to me. “But yes, to answer your question, I was. However, I will not tell you about my past, so please don’t ask. What happened back then wasn’t pretty and I have no desire to relive it. Besides, you’re getting distracted. As I said, everyone in the sanctuary is a half. They’ve all struggled with finding themselves. You’re not alone. Not anymore.”

“How’m I supposed to ‘find myself’ when I don’t even understand what I am?”

“Come back into the sanctuary with me,” Lydia says. “Meet some of the others. Who knows, you might wind up with some friends.”

I think of the girl with the cat-slit eyes. “Doubt it.” But I follow her out of the office, because I’m already here and why not?

It figures. The first person to come up to us is the fang guy. I try to smile, but I’m pretty sure it looks more like a grimace than anything else.

“It’s okay, Isis,” Lydia says.

I’m not reassured. Especially now that I know those weird canines he has are the result of being a monster. Excuse me.
Half
a monster. Like that makes it so much better.

He grins at me. All the rest of his teeth are normal looking. He’d even be kind of cute if it wasn’t for the fact that when his mouth closes, his fangs rest on his lower lip. “You look kind of freaked out,” he holds out his right hand. “I’m Daniel.”

Oh. Crap. I’ve left my hand sitting on the left side of the keyboard in the priest’s office. “Ummm…Hi,” I mumble. “Sorry about my hand.”

He glances down at my stump. “Oh, wow. So…what are you?”

I frown. “Excuse me?”

“You know…we’re all halves here. I’m a half-vampire. What’re you?”

“Z—z—zombie,” I stutter, wondering if I’m really having this conversation.

“Cool, so you’re an undead, too.”

Wait. “I’m a
what
?”

Daniel grins again. “You know. Undead. Like…not alive.”

I blink. Weirdest. Conversation.
Ever.
But he’s been nice so far and I like him. “So what’s the deal with the cat-eyed chick? Is she undead, too?”

He flushes. “You mean the half-fae? Nah, she’s not undead. That’s Noelle.”

“Yeah, she’s—interesting.”

“Like a fungus? Plan on putting me in a petri dish, maybe?”

Crap. Of
course
she’s behind me. I breathe deeply; in through the nose, out through the mouth, just like Mom taught me. I turn. “That’s not what I meant,” I start, but she doesn’t let me finish. Not by a long shot.

“What’s your malfunction? Why are you here, anyway? Slumming?”

“Noelle, she’s new,” Daniel says. “Give her a break, why don’t you?”

“Why should I?” Boy, she’s got enough anger to keep an entire city lit.

“Look,” I say. “I don’t know what I did to set you off, but I’m really sorry, okay? Whatever it is, I didn’t mean it.”

She stares at me for a long minute. “That’s just about the worst apology I’ve never heard.”

Before I can say anything else, the green haired half-fae storms out of the church, slamming the doors shut behind her.

“Wow. Is she always so volatile?” I’d rather use another word, but my mom’s always telling me that ladies don’t swear.

Daniel shrugs. “It’s Noelle. You get used to her.”

Yeah. I don’t see that happening any time soon. Or ever. My cell phone rings and Elvis’ Jailhouse Rock fills the sanctuary. I blush and fish the phone out of my pocket, quickly pressing the down volume button before answering. “Hello?”

“Hey, Isis.”

Six:

It’s a Date!

I’d recognize that slow southern drawl anywhere. It’s Sam. My eyes widen. It’s
Sam
. What the heck am I going to say? I can’t believe he actually called.

I turn my back to everyone and lower my voice. “Hey, Sam. What’s up?” There. That sounds natural and not like I’m standing in the sanctuary of the weirdest church ever.

“You still up for a Coffee Jar run? Farrie, Rhett and I are going to run by there before heading to Savannah.”

“I’d love to come,” I say.

“I can swing by your apartment and get you in, like, ten minutes.”

“I’m not home, but I can meet you at the Jar,” I counter. “I’m not too far from there.”

There’s a pause and a flurry of conversation I can’t hear, then Sam’s voice comes back loud and clear. “Okay, yeah, that’ll work.” The phone beeps.

I turn back to Daniel. “Sorry, I’ve got a —”

“A date. Yeah, I heard,” the half-vamp says. “Having a life when you don’t really, y’know,
have
a life is harder than you think.” He smiles and it looks a bit sad. “But good luck. I hope it works out for you, I really do.”

“Thanks, Daniel.” This time, when I smile at him, it’s real. He seems like a nice guy. Fangs and all. I head for the front doors.

“Uhhh…Isis?” Daniel calls me back. “You forgot something.”

I frown.

“Were you planning on leaving your hand here?”

Startled, I glance down. I somehow completely spaced that my hand is sitting on Father Moss’s desk. I guess because I’m right-handed. But that leads me to another issue. “Would you do me a huge favor?”

He looks cautious, but nods. “Sure.”

“Wrap my hand back onto my wrist?”

His sigh is relieved. I wonder what favors he’s had to do before, but it’s really none of my business. I barely know him. “I’ll be right back.”

I wade through the other people, glancing briefly at the paw handed guy. He catches my eye, raises one eyebrow, then turns back to the girl standing next to him.
She
looks totally normal. I wonder what her super power is. She’s gotta have something, or she wouldn’t be here. Then again, with the way she’s clinging to paw guy’s hand, she might just be a visitor. I don’t even know if that’s allowed. Maybe I could bring Sam… if this is going to be my life, it might be nice to have a bit of normal in it.

Father Moss isn’t in the office when I get there, so it’s a quick in and out to grab my hand and get back to where Daniel’s now standing with paw guy and the chick.

“And this is Isis,” Daniel says, as if he totally knows me.

The girl, a cute multi-color haired pixie, smiles. “I’m Bekah and this is Albin. It’s great to meet you. Is this your first time here?”

I don’t really have time to chat, but her question gives me the opening I want to ask a question of my own. “I’m new to all this. What about you?”

She laughs. “Oh, it’s not like that. The most unusual thing about me is my hair.”

“And all…this,” I wave the hand in my, uhhh, hand to encompass the whole church, “doesn’t mess with your head?”

“It did at first, yeah. But Albin’s paws aren’t ever going away…so neither am I.”

It must be nice to have a love like that. My thoughts flit back to Andrew. He really
was
perfect…except for the biting part. But if Andrew was so perfect, why am I going to coffee with Sam? My life’s obviously not going to be anything close to normal ever again. Maybe trying to be something I’m not just isn’t worth it.

“Aren’t you supposed to be going on a date? If you give me your hand, I’ll re-bandage you.” Daniel holds out his hand for my loose one.

“I—don’t know if I should go.” I give him my hand and hold out my stump. He carefully wraps the ace bandage around my wrist and the errant hand.

“There. Good as new.” He smiles at my raised eyebrow. “Well, okay, not quite, but it’s the best I can do.”

“See,” I say, “that’s what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t know you well enough to give you advice, Isis, but if it was me, I’d go.” He kind of one shoulder shrugs at me. “If someone asked me out, I’d go even if they
were
completely human.”

“You’re right,” I decide. “I’ll go. Thanks, Daniel.”

“Hey, it’s what I’m here for.”

I doubt that, but it’s nice of him to say.

“Have fun,” Bekah says.

I hope I see her again. She sounds like she has her…stuff….together and I could talk to someone like that. Someone who might just understand what I’m going through, but who’s not half a monster, that is. I hear Daniel saying, ‘zombie,’ as I pull the doors shut behind me. I’m waiting for it to bother me, but, surprisingly enough, it doesn’t. Weird how things change so quickly.

It takes me around fifteen minutes to reach The Coffee Jar. I pull the Bug into a parking space right in front and clamber out. It’d be just my luck if they weren’t even there anymore, but they are, seated at the counter, hands wrapped around their cups.

Sam glances at the door and breaks into a wide grin when he sees me. “Hey, Isis, you made it!” I wonder if he’s been watching the door. I’m suddenly really, hugely, glad I decided to come.

“Grab a cup and join us. Move over, Farrie.” He nudges the short, heavyset guy whom I recognize as one of the football players from my sophomore year.

“Sure thing. Cop a squat, Isis. I don’t bite. Much.” Farrie laughs and Sam glares at him until he moves over a stool.

“Don’t mind him,” Sam says. “He doesn’t mean anything.”

I slide onto the stool. “Hi, Rhett.”

“S’up?” The smaller boy on the other side of me nods. “You comin’ with?”

Uhhh…I frown. “Coming where, exactly?” He can’t mean what I think he means, can he?

“Shut it.” Sam swivels on his stool so he’s facing me. “It’s summer, Isis. I thought…” he flushes. “I thought you might want to come with us. You know, a road trip.”

Oh,
heck
no. I can’t even imagine what my mom’d say to that one. Me and three guys? Yeah.
So
not going to happen. “There’s no way,” I start, but Sam holds up one hand to stop me.

“No, that’s not…I mean…”

I didn’t even know Vikings
could
blush, but his face is flushing again. “Sara and Rose are meeting us there.”

“I can’t. My mom’s in China and I have to stay close to home.” And there’s no circumstance,
none
, under which I’m ever going back to Savannah. But they don’t need to know that part.