Flip This Zombie - Jesse Petersen [43]
Which left me. Shaking. Stunned. And wanting to talk about what I’d seen so bad that I just couldn’t hold it in anymore. I finally turned toward David.
“It was bionic, wasn’t it?” I whispered.
He jolted, almost like he’d forgotten the rest of us were in the vehicle with him. For the first time, he lifted his foot a little from the gas pedal and we slowed down to a more reasonable speed for the school zone we were currently streaking through.
Although, to be fair to Dave, the school had burned down weeks ago, the only kids left there were probably zombie monsters, and there were no cops to ticket him for going sixty-three in a twenty anyway.
“I don’t know,” he said. His voice was shaking a little and he drew a breath to steady it. “Maybe not. I mean, maybe it was just a coincidence that the… thing was bigger and that it only seemed like it was… um… aware of us.”
I stared at him. “Are you that jaded? That blind?”
He glared at me. “What do you mean?”
I expelled a breath of frustration. “I mean that people in the camps and on the street have been talking about bionics for a couple of days now, but you said you could only believe what you see.”
“That’s true, Sarah,” Dave snapped. “It’s crazy to chase rainbows just because someone told you there was a leprechaun with a fucking pile of Lucky Charms at the end.”
I slammed my hands on the dash with enough force that it stung. “There is a motherfucking leprechaun, David! You just saw it. Just like you saw Kevin’s cure in the lab a couple of days ago. And yet you still doubt both of those things. You’re still looking for excuses as to why they aren’t true. Why? Is it because you’re scared?”
He slammed on the brake and in the back The Kid grunted pathetically as he slid on the metal van floor and sort of smooshed against the back of our seats.
Dave ignored his renewed whines and spun around to face me.
“Yes, I’m fucking scared, Sarah. And if you aren’t then you’re delusional and crazy. That thing back there, whatever it was, if it really is some kind of new breed of zombie that has even a fraction of higher brain function or greater strength… it means more of us are going to die.”
“Not necessarily!” I said, but my tone had no strength to it.
“Yes, necessarily,” he bellowed. “The only reason we have any chance against the horde now is that the zombies are stupider than Paris Fucking Hilton. They can’t figure out tactics or find ways to work together on any real scale. So we have an advantage. If they start to think, even just a tiny bit, the advantage goes out the window.”
I flinched, but he wasn’t done. His voice elevated.
“And since we somehow convinced ourselves we have to make our living in this world by chasing things that go bump in the night, that means we might die. Or worse, get bitten so that one of us might have to kill the other before they go all undead on everyone’s ass.”
“So wait, are you saying no more zombie catching, even no more zombie killing?” I gasped.
He gripped the steering wheel with both hands until his knuckles turned white. “Neither one of those activities seems like it’s going to ensure a nice old age with a retirement pension, Sarah.”
I blinked as I stared down at my rough hands. Once upon a time, when I worked in an office job, they’d been soft. I’d even done home manicures and painted my nails all pretty. But today they were the hands of someone who worked to survive. Someone who had to.
But I missed manicures. I missed being able to sleep in on a Sunday and then have waffles. I missed being able to just watch bad television at night while I munched on microwave popcorn.
I missed normalcy even if I’d grown accustomed to not having it. Even if I’d accepted I’d probably never have it again.
I sighed. “I realize what you’re saying,” I said softly. “But I see what Kevin showed us in that lab. And I think that might help us get to an old age, though maybe not the pension.”
“Christ Sarah—” he started.
I touched his face.