Zombies and Demons and Feds (Oh, My)
by Franchot Lewis
There was a zombie in the house. You could tell by the nasty stench in the air, like perfume sprayed on top of bleach that had been splashed over a dead dog that had rolled in a puddle of piss and crap and vomit.
"Mom, he shouldn't be here in the house." Earl, age twenty eight, complained, as if he was talking about some slobby old drunk instead of a brain-dead eating machine.
Earl's mom slammed the frying pan down on the stove. She gave Earl a scowl.
Earl winced, but continued, "Mom, I get it. He's your son. He's my brother. But we have to call somebody about him."
Earl's mom snorted. "Call who? The police? The police come in shooting. They are the last people to be called during a family problem."
"I can't handle him, mom. You know, Ray's turned evil."
"Your brother has not turned evil."
"Mom, he ate the cat. Didn't even kill it first, just ate it, alive. You heard that cat down there screaming."
"Why did you let the cat go down there?"
"Mom, you expected me to baby sit your cat too?"
"You were late with Ray's food. You were late coming home."
"Mom, I don't want to come home with him in the house."
"It's his house. We're only here because he needs us."
"Mom, I'm getting out of this house and leaving you with him."
"I won't have people coming in here to take your brother away. If they don't shoot him; they're cut pieces off him to study, until there are no pieces left on him. You can't trust the government, you know that. They will go experimenting on a person in a minute. They experimented on your Uncle Jake. He went into the service and he came back home dead with organs missing."
"Uncle Jake died in Iraq."
"I never heard of a person dying from a gunshot wound and coming home without his liver, and his kidneys, and his left eye. He was shot in the heart. Why was his left eye missing?"
"He was an organ donor."
"No, he wasn't. He was my baby brother. I was his closest kin, and if he was an organ donor, I would have known about it, and if somebody wanted to take his organs, they should have asked me first, and I would have told them, in God's sweet Name, no."
"Mom, I can't leave you in the house with that thing in the basement."
"You are talking about your brother! Shut your mouth!"
"Mom, mom, mom."
"If you came home instead of fooling with some --"
"Mom, don't say it."
"While your bother is hungry, you are out getting your hot pants cooled by some --"
"Mom, please don't."
"I am not going to mention her name."
A hour later, mother and son were still discussing the mother's other son, and this son's brother, the zombie.
"He's quiet now."
"He's a good boy."
"He's not a boy, mom. And he's not a man anymore."
"Shut up, will you, Earl?"
The next day, breakfast time, mother and son were preparing to feed the zombie.
"Mom, you put enough stuff on the meat to knock him out."
"I know you don't like it, but I don't want to go down there and have him kill me."
"I put enough stuff, Earl, to put down a mule."
"I have to go down there, change his diaper, clean him up, and clean up the mess."
"Do you have to keep him chained?"
"If he gets out, if he comes up here while we are asleep, we are done for."
"He moves so slow."
"Mom, he doesn't know who we are? You know that? We could be the cat as far as he knows."
Jerry sat motionless, in silence, prepping himself for the task ahead. He was in the den of his house. He was alone. Every one of his nine senses told him that there was no one eavesdropping, and every one of the government's bugs were disabled.
She, who will remain nameless, opened the astral portal, and slid through. She walked, stone-faced towards Jerry. She noticed the Holy Bible tucked inside his coat pocket, the cross hidden under his shirt. She had come through angry -- well, annoyed, anyway -- but she spoke in the gentle tones of a mother cradling a baby. "Honey, why are you afraid? I'm here because your Lily asked me to come."
"Thanks for coming," Jerry said.
She took a handful of ancient coins from her pocket and in good cheer jingled them.
"Shall we get right to business? You want to discuss Ray? Correction. You want an explanation for Ray's condition? You knew Ray was my lover. Listen, I tell you true, oh lordy, how I did love him so... I told Ray, I am more of a female than I thought he could handle. I am the opposite of a good woman. I am a terrific screw. He was secure with himself, said, 'bring it on, babe.' I hate the condition that he is in now, but those things happen, especially when someone is unfaithful to someone like me. I've come because Lily is my sister, and she loves you, like I loved Ray. I've come to give you a warning, human. Don't break my sister's heart, like Ray broke mine."
"You loved Ray? And you turned him into a zombie? How was that love?"
She jingled the coins. "I offer you coins that will make you very rich. They are yours. My price? When my sister comes to you, refuse her now. Great wealth will be yours."
"Aren't you here to discuss Ray?"
"Refuse my sister, before you become unfaithful, and you become dead."
"Ray was unfaithful to you, and so you punished him, made him dead?"
"Ray is not dead."
"He is an undead. The Ray we know is dead."
"I'm here to prevent you from hurting my sister."
"You are trying to pull a job on your sister, make her feel miserable like you."
She shrieked, "Human, you make too much noise!"
"You're immortal," Jerry said. "Older than the human race, so maybe millions of years old. How many mortal humans have you had as lovers? Hundreds of thousands?"
"It is unwise to remind a lady of her age," she purred. "But not that many. We are faithful to one human through his lifetime."
"So you may have had a hundred thousand?"
"What is your point?"
"Let Ray go. For the sake of his mother, his brother."
"Do you know the government is looking for him? He is a missing federal agent. The government won't stop looking."
"My lord, how is that going to impress me?"
"For the sake of Heaven, just let him go."
"So that's your argument? When you become unfaithful to my sister, are you going to tell her to let you go? She would burn you into ashes. She has a temper. I've made Ray into something that no other female would have but me."
"You still --"
"Yes, I still love the cheating bastard."
"Love? He's a zombie. Only his mother still loves him, though she is half afraid of him. His brother is scared to death of him."
"He won't harm them."
"How do you know?"
"Ray's in diapers and he's chained to a wall."
She smirked. "What he deserves."
"You have sex with him?"
She didn't answer.
"You know I can't fight you."
She smirked. "You could fight. You would lose, and the price would be... well, you can imagine what it would be. Your balls would make nice earrings. But you could fight."
"You have the power to do anything you want, but you do not have the right."
"Don't judge me."
"You have judged Ray."
"My sister likes you. She loves you, so I can't kill you outright. But listen, you leave Ray alone. He's safe in that house."
"His mom asked for my help."
"May be I should have a talk with mom?"
"You are going to threaten her? Turn her into a zombie too?"
"I let Ray see me. You can see me, because you are weird, human. His mom won't see me. I'll whisper suggestions into her empty little head. But you stay out of my way. You don't talk to the mom. You don't talk to the brother. My sister's boyfriend or not, cross me, and we will rumble, and there won't be a rumble. It will be me stomping you like a bug."
Ray was disfigured. Few who hadn't known him well would have recognized him now. He was Lily's sister's doll. She gave him such dreadful deformities. His eyes and skin were purple as was her hurt. Some of his flesh seemed to have been devoured, as if he had been attacked by a flesh-eating fungus, now in remission, and the wounds healed over under scars. His face, his entire body, was a mess of sores and blisters, as was her heart. His brain was scrambled, and his memories torn out. If only she could tear from her mind the memory of his infidelity, she could put him back together piece by piece. All Ray could do for himself was to eat, to defecate, to urinate, and to demand food as a ghoul demands blood.
Earl left his mother home alone with Ray. Earl just couldn't continue to mentally process the situation. He wasn't trained to change diapers on a grown man -- rather zombie. He couldn't continue to deal with the fact that his brother was a zombie. He moved in with his girl friend and kept his mouth shut. Ray's mom managed. She found surprising strength to care for her son. She had no problem mixing the right potions of knock out drugs. When he was a kid, she changed his diapers. He was thirty two. She hadn't changed his diaper in thirty one years, but she remembered how and didn't mind cleaning up after him.
There were no man size or monster size disposable diapers, so this was a dirty chore. She sung as she shook out his feces into the toilet, and then rinsed his dirty diapers in a pail of disinfectant, hung them to dry in the attic, before washing them in the family washer with extra sweet scented bleach. The house smelled better with her son Earl gone, because she now was the one to clean the basement, and she did a much better job.
Ray's mom remembered that her dad had told her, "Hell is where you find it; so often in the midst of Hell, you can find a little solace on your own."
"Yes," Ray mom thought. "Yes."
In that basement, caring, so gentle, and so patient with her disfigured son, whom she so loved, Ray 's mom went about with grace. Her whole life was devoted to him. Ray ate regularly. His mom rigged up a sound system in the basement and played soft quiet music, mainly religious hymns, and she read to him passages from the Bible. The passages dealt with hope, the power of prayer and faith, the love of children, and the love among members of a family. Ray responded to the music and to his mother's voice.
In about a month, Ray looked almost tame. His mother got the idea of making him more comfortable. She kept him in diapers, and kept him in the basement, but she removed his chains. She tried to teach him to use the basement toilet, but Ray was a zombie, and zombies are not very bright. And though he was still ugly, he was her son, and every once in a while, the way the light bounced off his face, his eyes looked to her like they were, when they were bright, shining brown, and he was her beautiful boy.
Word got around that this older lady was living in a big house by herself. She didn't go anywhere. She didn't work. She had regular deliveries from the grocer and the pharmacy. She made use of a garden service, and recently had a maid come by once a week for light housekeeping. The word was out that the lady had money, but she didn't go to the bank. JoJo and Arnie, two thuggish teenage boys, almost twenty, slow runners, were chased by trouble, and always got caught, decided for an adventure, to pay a visit to this lady and to see if the word on the street was true.
The two young lads had clocked the house. They knew that breakfast on a Tuesday was the best time to call on the lady.
Did they knock? No, they just knocked in the back door. The house had no alarms. They caught Ray's mom's mixing knock out drugs on the kitchen counter. The boys didn't know what she was doing. They thought she was making some tonic that older people drank.
She jumped and shouted, "Good Lord, what do you want?"
The two surly, thuggish looking boys went into their intimidating stance, their body language said: don't make us beat up on you. They had the grunt, the stare, the moves down tight. They were better than Hollywood criminals. They've been robbing since they were little boys, when they extorted money from weaker children.
"Look, grandma, don't you start screaming," the shorter of the thugs said.
"Get out!" Ray's mom shouted.
The other thug pulled a hand gun."Shut the hell up, or I'll blow your head off!" The boy spoke in a calm controlled voice, like he thought a gangster should, like he knew what he was doing.
Ray's mom did quiet down. She didn't want the neighbors calling the police. The police might do a thorough search of the house and find her son in the basement.
"That's what I like," the taller thug said. "Cooperation." He kept his gun on her.
The other thug said, "Now look, grandma, tell us where the money is, before my man here does something you are gonna regret."
As the thug spoke, his grin promising more pain than she could handle, she began to hear a voice whispering in her ears. It sounded like her own voice, like her subconscious was talking to her.
"Simple, no-nonsense. Take the tall one first. The one with the gun. You can do it. You can do it, if you try. He won't suspect a thing. You will surprise him. Then the other one. He will be puking and pissing his pants as his pal goes down. Knife the big one, then the little one. Four quick motions. Grab the knife, thrust it into the tall one's back, right through his heart, you know where it is, then pull out the knife, and do the other one. Four motions, then they are done. Don't worry about the bodies. They will provide fresh meat and bones. Ray like to eat bones too. They're good for his teeth, and he likes to drink blood, which is a good way to wash down a meal of bones. You have a big freezer in the basement. You have to plug it in. Ray's old saw is still in good working condition. Those scrawny boys' s bodies can give your boy enough prime meat for a week. Do you want them going down stairs and molesting your son? Take the knife from the drawer. The long butcher knife. It is sharp, and driven with power enough, will penetrate their hides to the hilt. Your love for your son will guide your hand. Your instinct to protect him with will give you the strength to remove these threats to him.
"Take the knife and do a mother's duty."
Ray's mom blinked in confusion. How could she be thinking such things? She was no killer -- Ray was a federal agent, a law man. But then she thought, he was a government agent. Now he's just a boy who needs his mother more than ever.
"Hey, don't go dumb on us; show us where the money's hid," the short boy said.
"I keep a little money in this drawer," Ray's mom said, in a weak, trembling voice.
The thugs laughed. The tall one said, "Yeah, that's what I'm talking about." That was the last thing he ever said.
Ray's mom hand came out of the drawer with the butcher knife.
The tall boy wasn't looking at her. He turned to his buddy, and he his buddy were as happy as could be. They were getting the money, showing the old bitch who was boss. They didn't even have to hit her to make her shake like one of those little Mexican dogs.
The tall one didn't die right away. He did go down on his knees in shock. He did drop the gun.
Ray's mom yanked the knife out and the tall thug fell face down on the floor.
The smaller boy was crying now. "Nobody was supposed to have gotten hurt! You killed him over money." Before he could realize that had been prepared to do exactly the same thing to her, the knife went into his gut. He couldn't believe that some old lady was taking him down so easily. "This ain't right. You wasn't supposed to..." He fell, his knees thumping on the tile before his belly splashed down in the spreading pool of blood.
The voice in Ray's mom's head sounded cheerful. "You are a good mother, protector and provider..."
"Yeah," Ray's mom spoke to herself out loud. "I'm a mother with a mess to clean up. I have blood all over my floor. I have to boil some water to clean this knife. The back door -- I have to fix it myself. Ralph next door would do it, but I don't think he would understand the rest of it."
She managed to clean up the mess the thugs caused. For weeks, she'd been cleaning up after a zombie. Fixing the door was the only part she wasn't used to.
After the incident with the two thugs, Ray's mom almost convinced herself that she needed to go out and get a permit to have a gun in the house; then she talked herself out of it.
The voice -- sounding like her voice -- said, "You have a gun. The boy's gun. You don't need a permit. You can't leave Ray alone in the house. Who knows what might happen while you are away?"
She stayed. On maid day, the maid service sent a different maid.
On the roof of the Homeland Security building downtown, Jerry gazed out upon the quiet capitol city. Nothing looked unusual. Everything was normal, boring. For a brief second he thought he could skip the meeting and scoot home, perhaps Lily might drop in early and they could have some afternoon play.
Then he heard the cry of panic from Ray's house. The maid sent to Ray's house wasn't a maid but an agent, and she had sent out a psychic call for help. While nature's call had sent Ray's mom to the bathroom on the first floor, right off the front hall, and the maid was supposed to have been cleaning upstairs, the agent, sensing the missing Ray's presence in the house, managed, with burglary tools, to open the locked basement door. She tip-toed down to check out the basement and she became a snack for the zombie, who was waiting beneath the steps.
They-- the experts, the authors of the zombie literature -- say that zombies are dumb. But they are not stupid, they know when it is feeding time and they have the five senses that most humans have. The zombie heard a noise at the locked door. He wasn't hungry. He knew it was too early for lunch. He liked the lady, with the nice voice, who fed him.
He thought -- yes, he thought. This zombie was brainless in human terms; he was an animal. He wasn't dead. The old Ray was gone, but Zombie Ray had some brain functions. He thought that maybe the nice lady was coming down to talk. The zombie didn't know what the lady said. He just liked her listening to her talk.
It took a long time for the door to open. The zombie knew something was wrong. He could smell. He took a good sniff. The scent of the person on the other side of the door didn't belong to the lady. He walked, as fast as a zombie could, but it was pretty slow, and hid under the steps. Once the agent got the door opened and came down, he reached out, grabbed her legs, pulled her to the floor. Maybe he wanted to see what kind of food was this. The agent hit the floor hard, kicking and screaming, and thrashing about, but the zombie didn't let her get loose. If she had, it would have been hell for him to catch her. Her arms were free. She had a gun. She shot him. The bullet hurt so much that he tore her legs almost loose. While he was doing that, she got off another shot, but not in him. He knew he had to get her to stop kicking and screaming, and shooting, so he bit a chunk out of her left leg. She sent out a psychic scream and raised the alarm. Every agent in the paranormal unit must have heard.
Ray's mom came running down the stairs, with the dead thug boy's gun. She had to silence the girl to protect her boy. She couldn't let that girl's screams bring the cops. She fired one shot into the agent's head.
Jerry then heard the telltale death rattle at the bottom of the undercover agent's throat. Jerry took his time going below. The building was full of excited people, scrambling down the halls, bumping into each other, as they raced to their cars, and then sped up the street.
Jerry went into the office assigned to him. He was a contract worker, not a sworn agent. He sat back in his seat, shut his eyes. There was nothing more that he could do.
On the news, the reporter said, that a woman barricaded herself in her home and a federal agent was dead. The neighborhood was sealed off. A half of hour later the street activity was over. Ray's mom was in the scope of a sharpshooter' s rifle. The order was given to take her out. The sharpshooter scored a direct hit. His bullet exploded in Ray's mom's head. She fell, bleeding red and dead.
Later, at Home Land Security HQ, the spook sub division of the paranormal division debriefing room.
"She had a gun in her hand and she fired at one of our people," Neal, age thirty two, the agent in charge, defended his order. "You don't shoot one of us and expect to walk."
"She was Ray's mother."
"I don't care if she was Jesus' s mother."
"You are reckless," Jerry said.
"Mr. Civilian contractor calls me reckless. He doesn't have his butt on the line everyday to protect this country from threats."
"What do you make of that Baby Huey creature we found in the basement?" He asked.
Two other psychics nodded briefly until stopped by Neal's stare.
Jerry told him. "You sent an agent into Ray's mother's house because the unit detected his presence. You found Ray and you don't want to admit that it is him."
"I've had it up to my keister with you remote reviewers."
"Why are you head of the spook unit?"
"To kill spooks."
"Today, you killed Ray's mother. She wasn't a spook.You have Ray. He wasn't a kidnaped or a run-away agent, as you expected. And you have a problem that I can't help you with."
"Why haven't your contract been canceled, Mr. Contractor?"
"You admire my work."
"When are you going to start doing some work today? I've received zilt from you on this case?"
"Be careful how you treat Ray, be very, very careful."
"That thing is not Ray. I know Ray. I served with Ray in the Corp. I was at Annapolis with Ray. Ray is my deputy here. Ray is a friend of mine.I repeat, that thing is not Ray."
Jerry decided to take a break from Home Land. He told Neal that he needed to step out for a five minute breath of air. Neal was glad to see him leave. Jerry stepped out and did not return.
Lily found him at home, sitting on his bed, surrounded by holographic looking images, which were projections of his memory. He was dissecting his life. He mumbled of how he'd been blasted in the face with both barrels of fate' s guns of irony. Lily sat in the bed with him. She removed her blouse and threw it at him face. He ducked and let her blouse fall to the floor.
"Lover, "he scolded. "I've been here a whole two seconds and you haven't begun to undress."
"Why did your sister allow them to kill Ray's mother?"
"Them? Your friends?"
Jerry got out of bed and left for his den to sit and to think.
He found Lily waiting. She was nude, seated, with her feet propped up on his desk. "I didn't come all this way to go away empty. I need you now."
"Why did your sister let Ray's mother die?"
Lily picked what looked like a piece of lint from the air. She said it was a piece of time, and that time outside the room had stopped, so that nothing inside the room could be observed. She said, "My sister and I are not all powerful, do not know all things, and cannot do all things. She could not have stopped that bullet, because she did not know it was coming. She doesn't know what she is going to do next."
"She could reverse Ray's condition, can't she?"
"No, she can't."
"She told me she has sex with him."
"Sure, sex is ninety percent mental."
"She can reverse Ray's state, Lily."
"She can't and save face."
"Her face? Her pride? Because of your sister's pride, Ray's mom is dead, and Ray is a hapless beast in the hands of the government."
"For what it may be worth to you, my sister cried, actually cried over Ray. For what he did, he should be dead. There is no excuse for a faithless lover. "
"He went out with a girl to please his mother. Your sister and you appear as spirits, you don't become corporeal in this dimension. A guy can't take you home to show off to his mom."
"So he said."
"He slept with her."
"She practically raped him."
"You are defending your friend."
"It is the truth."
"He ejaculated in her."
"Not in, on, and that was an accident. If your sister had scanned his mind, instead of jumping to conclusions, she would have learned the truth."
"You listen to me Ishmael Jeremiah Jerome," Lily said Jerry's full name.
His father named him Ishmael, according to his mom, because his father blamed her for not having the birth control, and slapping that name on him was his father's way -- in his mom's words, "the bastard way of saying he wasn't going to have anything to do with his son." Jerry's mom slapped the name Jeremiah on him. Her joke. She said, that Jerry told a truth that none of the bastards in his father's family wanted to hear. Jerry answered only to the name Jerry. Ishmael Jeremiah was used only on his official government documents.
"Jerry, and you listen to me well, " Lily continued. "If some hussy corners you, you had better know what to do."
"I tell them, I'm gay. It works."
"You can defend yourself against humans better than he could."
"My special natural gifts, enhanced by you."
"I don't want to fight. I want to make love. And I can't do anything about my sister. Trust me, she loves Ray and will protect him. She wants to make sure that no other female wants him."
Earl cocked the gun's hammer. "You are going to talk."
Lily left after three solid days of sex. Jerry didn't go to work. Earl called, wanted to talk. Jerry let him into the house. They sat in the den. Earl pulled a gun.
"I know all about you. My brother told me how, when you and he were fourteen, he use to sleep over at your house and you and he would masturbate together. Neither of you could get a girl to look at you. He told me how you were both into the occult, and how you called up demons for sex. How you both got sister demons. I know his demon bitch did this to him. Mom came home and found him chained in her basement. He wasn't completely transformed, so she recognized him. She called me. He said that he chained himself, and he begged us not to tell anyone where he was. He said his condition was temporary. Up until the last moment he was himself, he kept saying the bitch would reverse what she did to him. I know you have powers. You are going to help my brother. They have him in a military facility somewhere in Utah. You are going to help me to get him out. I can't bury my mother, knowing that her son is being treated like an animal. She can't rest in peace."
Jerry said, "Please put the gun away."
Earl replied, "No, not until you swear on the Bible that you will help."
Jerry said, "If you are not going to shoot the gun, I will."
As if gun had a life of its own, it fired, leaving Earl with a powder burn, blisters on his hand, and him wincing in pain, broken skin on his thumb, and with the fear of knowing the true weakness of his position. The bullet didn't bounce off Jerry. It was intercepted in mid-air and vanished in a flash of light. Until Jerry smiled, Earl had the sinking feeling that he was a dead carcass.
"Relax, Earl, your mind is being manipulated by your brother's demon girl."
"That fag stuff about you and Ray wasn't true?"
"What are you talking about?"
Ray looked confused.
Jerry asked, "Do you believe your older brother would tell you that, when he was a kid, he used to jack off with his best friend?"
"No." Earl gave Jerry a hard stare. "You do have powers?"
"So did Ray, so does everybody. So do you. Ray and I fine tuned our psychic abilities when we were in the military service of the country."
"Yeah, but what are we going to do about Ray?"
Jerry looked hard at Earl. "Are you ready to look after your brother? It will be a full time job. You will have your mother's money and your brother's."
Absent-minded, as if he wasn't all there, Earl took a handful of ancient coins from his coat pocket and jingled them. Jerry scanned Earl's mind and saw a gypsy fortune teller giving Earl the coins. Earl mumbled to Jerry, "He won't hurt me. I feel he won't."
"He won't, " Jerry said, " but you won't be able to allow him out. He is a zombie, your brother, but a beast to all outsiders. The demon controls his soul and she wants him isolated from the world of people. She will permit only one caretaker, you."
"I feel this is true."
"She cannot order you against your will."
"How does she control my brother?"
"He belongs to her, gave up his free will for sexual pleasure, when he was very young, and didn't know any better."
"So when do we leave for Utah?"
"You bury your mother, buy a farm. I will bring your brother to you."
The moment Earl left, Lily's sister returned. She was grinning. She was happy. "When are we going to Utah?" she laughed.
Jerry asked, "You will protect Ray's brother better than you protected his mother?"
"You must allow Earl a life away from the farm where his brother will be."
"Who's going to watch out for Ray?"
"You have slaves in this dimension who Earl can employ. I know you."
"I could fix it that Earl could have a relief." Lily sister grinned. "Now, what is your plan?"
"Simple. I shall rent a truck, charter a plane and go to that army base and get him."
"You will need to have more than that; they will be looking for him."
"We will deal with that later."
"Deal with it now. I have a plan. Some, most, all of them, have been mistreating Ray. I have clouded their minds, so they are not so mean to him now. But a few will have to pay for the mistreatment of my lover. That army base is going to have an outbreak of a zombie causing disease, and while the good guys are busy shooting zombies, a great guy like you will sneak in there and rescue my Ray."
"There are two thousand people on that base. We will start with two zombies. Two will become two hundred in a few hours -- that should keep them busy. The army will have its hands full, and nobody is going to miss our zombie." She laughed.
Jerry forced himself to smile. More people would end up zombified. More people would die. Not exactly what he had in mind when he contracted his services to the government.
But it could easily be worse if Lily or her sister were to get really pissed off.
"Sounds good to me," he said. "I'll make the arrangements for the truck and the plane."
Lily's sister nodded. "I will see you outside the army base." She vanished.
Jerry sighed. "Ray, buddy, wherever what passes for your soul is now, you better appreciate this." He pulled an untraceable cell phone from his pocket and started to dial.
© 2009 Franchot Lewis
Bio: Franchot Lewis is a resident of Washington, D.C., and therefore has first-hand experience with zombies (or those related species, Congressmen and Senators). Franchot Lewis's story Human and Naked appeared in the March 1999(!) edition of Aphelion; other works have appeared in Dark Stories, Black Roses, and other venues.
E-mail: Franchot Lewis
Website: dfunzy on HubPages
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