The Reanimation of Edward Schuett (11 page)

And he couldn’t bring himself to care. He had nothing, no chance, and if they were going to kill him in cold blood then just for this moment he didn’t care as long as he took a few of them down with him.

A car screeched to a stop behind the truck, and a new female voice screamed. “Stop! Everyone stop! Stand down! Don’t shoot him!”

“He’s armed!” the first woman said. “DuFresne gave us permission to take him down!”

“DuFresne doesn’t have the slightest fucking clue what he’s doing. I order every single one of you to lower your weapons.”

Edward held his breath, trying to listen for any sounds that the people surrounding the truck were complying. He couldn’t tell for sure. He could hear other people now murmuring as footsteps came closer. A lot of people, probably not just the ones who had stopped the truck. This whole incident had likely caught the attention of everyone living in the buildings around them, and they were coming out to see what the fuss was about. Although Edward definitely didn’t want to see anyone innocent hurt, he hoped at least that the onlookers would make the people from the cars think twice before they fired.

After a few more seconds of silence from behind the truck, the new woman spoke again. “Sir? You in the truck? Can you talk?”

Edward took a deep breath and tried not to let his voice sound like he had just been crying. “Yes.”

There was a murmur from a few people. “Sir,” the woman said, “could you please sit up where we can see you?”

“No, you’ll shoot me!”

“We won’t shoot you, sir. Please, I’m sure you’re very confused right now. I can help.”

“Yeah, confused sure as hell is right. I might even say I’m a little pissed off at the way I’m getting treated so far, too.”

There was a pause in the woman’s words that Edward probably wouldn’t have heard if he hadn’t been relying solely on his ears. “Pissed off. Yes, I’m sure you are. But we’re not here to hurt you.”

“Sure as hell could have fooled me.”

“I understand. I’m sorry. There was a miscommunication. The people we asked to help us bring you in, they don’t truly understand what you are.”

“And just what the hell am I, huh? Would someone please finally answer me that?”

“Yes, sir, I will, but I need you to throw the gun out of the truck first. Can you please do that for me?”

It could be a trick. In the past he might have believed that was just a paranoid way to think, but after everything that had happened so far he figured he had a right to be paranoid now. They could just want him disarmed so he would be easier to shoot. But this new woman that had suddenly shown up talked to him unlike most people had so far. Even Rae had been unwilling to treat him like a person at first. This woman, however, kept calling him ‘sir’. Not zed, not zombie, not monster, not thing, but ‘sir”.

And she actually sounded like she knew what she was talking about when she said she knew what was going on.

“I’ll do it, but on one condition.”

“What is it, sir?”

“I’ll do it if you stop calling me sir. I worked for a living, thank you very much.”

The woman made what was perhaps the most shocking sound since he had woken up. He had almost forgotten how wonderful that sound was. She laughed.

“Absolutely. What’s your name?”

Edward threw Spanky out through the bars and heard it clatter on the road. He stood up with his hands where everyone could see them. There were a few gasps from onlookers, probably at the still-sorry state of his face, but they weren’t as bad as he would have expected earlier. He could probably pass as a regular human by now, albeit one with a serious skin condition. For some reason that brought him a great deal of satisfaction.

“Edward,” he said. “Edward Schuett.”

By the time she reached the crowd gathered around the cars and truck, Rae’s lungs burned from the speed with which she had been pedaling her bike. The crowd was several people thick, and Rae had to stand on the pedals before she stopped in order to see anything. There didn’t appear to be much to see. Edward stood on the road behind the truck as two men, dressed much like DuFresne and Patal had been, quickly patted him down for more weapons. More men and women dressed the same way, either people from Merton Security or the CRS, were moving swiftly through the crowd and confiscating any cameras or recording devices. Many of the onlookers loudly protested this, but the security people made no effort to hide the guns strapped in holsters underneath their jackets. The crowd might be angry, but they were the descendants of survivors. They knew a time not to fight when they saw one.

Rae got off her bike, dropped it, and pushed past several people in the crowd. She could see Edward, his brow furrowed and his mouth tight from the emotion he was holding in, but he didn’t resist as the security people led him to one of the cars. An African-American woman in her forties stood by the car nearest to Rae, and she watched Edward with even more intensity than all the curious onlookers. Everyone else here looked mildly shocked at the appearance of the man who had been in the truck, but Rae didn’t think most of them knew what he really was. Edward may have looked sickly now, but not undead. His healing was continuing at an astounding rate. Only this one woman looked at him like she knew what Edward was, although she didn’t look at all fearful of him. Instead, she had a hesitant, hopeful look on her face. Rae tried to push past her so she could get to Edward, but the woman saw her and snapped her fingers at the nearest security personnel. A beefy woman nearby immediately stopped confiscating cameras and grabbed Rae by the shoulders.

“Damn it, let me go,” Rae said. “I’m with Merton.”

The African-American woman looked at Rae, then gestured to the security woman with her head, indicating that they move out of the crowd. The security woman pulled Rae over to the sidewalk, far enough away from all the commotion than none of the onlookers would be able to overhear them.

“You’re Rae Neuman, correct?” the woman said. “I’m Danielle Gates, Chief Director of Special Projects for the Center for Reanimation Studies.”

Rae blinked. She had heard that name before. “Do you mean you’re the local chief of these things, or…”

Gates smiled. She had the smile of someone who had been practicing disarming expressions for most of her life. “The whole country. I was at the field office in Chicago when I was informed that a woman at a small city’s gate had seen something interesting.”

“Look,” Rae said, “you’ve got to listen to me. I don’t know what you people think he is…”

Gates’ smile temporarily disappeared. “I’m afraid that’s classified.”

“I’m just saying, he’s not dangerous. You can’t kill him, please.”

Gates raised an eyebrow. “You’re referring to Mr. Schuett as ‘him,’ not ‘it’.”

Rae hadn’t even realized that. “Um, I guess I am. But he can actually think. He remembers things from before. You can’t hurt him.”

Gates paused. “Why would you think we were going to kill him?”

“The guy at my apartment, DuFresne. He gave the order to shoot.”

Gates’ smile disappeared again, and this time Rae wasn’t sure that it would be returning any time soon. “Mr. DuFresne will be properly reprimanded, I assure you. He reacted in a manner outside the parameters he had been given. Let me ease your mind when I say that Mr. Schuett will not be harmed in any way.”

Her tone was soothing, but Rae’s mind didn’t feel the least bit at ease. “So what are you going to do with him then?”

Gates gestured to the woman who had been holding Rae by the shoulders. “Would you mind please retrieving Miss Neuman’s B-36?” The woman nodded and left them alone for the moment. “Miss Neuman…Rae. May I call you Rae?”

Rae didn’t feel comfortable with where this might be going. “No, I don’t think so. You can go right on calling me Miss Neuman, thank you.”

Gates didn’t seem surprised by this. “Fine then. Miss Neuman, we appreciate both your help and the help of Merton Security in finding and identifying Mr. Schuett. You will be rewarded handsomely for keeping an eye on him for us. Because that is exactly what you were doing, correct? Keeping an eye on him? And not possibly trying to let someone as unusual and potentially dangerous as a thinking zombie loose?”

Rae didn’t speak. She was sure her expression said enough to this woman. She wanted to kick Gates in the shin, grab Spanky, and then take Edward somewhere far away from these people. She didn’t know why she suddenly wanted to protect him so much. She’d only just met him. But he seemed vulnerable, and while these people might have been able to give him his answers, she had no idea what else they might do with him. Gates’ assurances could be sincere, or she could work for the same government that had basically ignored the heart of the country while protecting the elite citizens of the coast during the worst point in the world’s history.

But Rae couldn’t do anything. Any attempt to help Edward now would only result in her getting arrested or possibly even shot.

Gates put a hand on Rae’s shoulder, and Rae resisted the urge to take it off while breaking a few fingers. “You will receive a bonus shortly, and I’m certain I can get you a promotion with Merton. The condition, of course, is that you don’t talk about this to anyone. You forget that you were ever a part of his story. As far as any of these people watching here know, all they saw was a sick man trying to evade custody for some reason. They don’t need to know who he really was. Ever. And if they do and we find out it was your doing, not only will you not be receiving that bonus, you will lose your job and your apartment. We’ll even take away your stupid gun.” To emphasize the words, Gates put out a hand for the returned security woman to place the rifle in. Gates handed Rae the weapon. “I trust you’ll be on board with us about this?”

“Of course,” Rae said. She wasn’t sure how convincing that sounded, so she added, “As long as my bonus and promotion are good enough.”

Gates snorted and took her hand off Rae’s shoulder. That final mercenary line seemed to do the trick, and Gates eased. “Good. It will be. Good day then, Miss Neuman.”

Gates walked away, moving swiftly between all the security people, giving them orders, and going in the general direction of the Merton employees who were talking to Ringo. From what little she knew about him, Rae was certain he wouldn’t have an issue taking a bribe to stay silent. That was the smart thing to do now.

Rae heard a wheezing noise from behind her and turned to see an elderly gentleman walking up to her. He was tall with a scraggly beard but only a few patches of hair on his head. His glasses were thick and the glass was yellow with age. He was probably older than anyone Rae had ever seen before, old enough to remember a time before the Uprising. All the commotion had probably attracted him, and all he would want was to know that everything was still safe and fell in line with the status quo.

“Miss,” the old man said. “Miss, what was it? What happened here?”

Rae looked for Gates. She had apparently finished talking with Ringo and was getting into the car that had Edward in it. The windows were tinted so Rae couldn’t see him, but she knew he was in there.

“They found a zombie,” Rae said. “A zombie that can talk and think…and heal.”

The old man gasped, but Rae didn’t look to see his expression. Instead she slung Spanky over her shoulder and went for her bike, thinking of where the nearest news outlet would be for her to tell all this to. Rae didn’t give a crap whether or not she got her money, and she had hated her job enough that she had never really wanted to be promoted anyway. Her apartment was a shithole that she could easily replace. The government could take all those things from her if they wanted.

As for them trying to take Spanky, well, Rae was pretty certain that the old-style NRA had once had a saying for that.

Part Two:

California

Edward was surprised when he wasn’t put in handcuffs before being escorted to the car. The two men led him to a back seat before closing the door for him, then both got in the front. Neither of them talked, although the one on the passenger side kept glancing back at him like he expected Edward to try something stupid. Edward, however, didn’t think he would have the energy to try escaping right now even if he wanted to or thought he could actually make it past all the other security personnel crawling over the area. He was tired again, his body ached, and he still hadn’t had any chance to eat.

For a moment Edward thought the hunger in his gut was causing an olfactory hallucination, but when he took a deep breath he realized the car smelled like food. And not just the scent of the two men in front (he was too mentally worn out right now to be alarmed that he had just equated them with food) but something else, a scent from long ago, greasy and meaty. He looked up at the dashboard and saw a brown and blue bag sitting there. From the scent and the shape of the contents bulging at the bag’s side, Edward guessed it held a burger of some sort and fries. He’d never seen the logo on the bag before, curlicued letters spelling out the name Zappy’s, but that didn’t matter. It was food.

The man in the passenger seat saw where Edward’s gaze went, and he grabbed the bag to hand back to Edward. “Danielle got this for you. She said that if you really were a Z7 then you would need the protein.”