Flip This Zombie - Jesse Petersen [59]
“I know exactly who the enemy is,” Dave growled behind me. “Mr. Comic Book Villain here. All you need is a thought bubble, asshole.”
I spun to face him. “Stop,” I insisted, grabbing his arms. “I know you think you’re right, but you are being crazy. And as much as I appreciate your protection, you don’t speak for me on this.”
Dave stopped glowering at Kevin and instead jolted his face down at me. “What?”
“You told him that she isn’t going out anymore. But you didn’t ask me what I want to do,” I said softly.
He stared at me for what seemed like forever, eyes wide and face pale, before he finally pushed my arms aside. “You can’t be serious.”
I looked at him and then at Kevin, who was smiling slightly, I suppose in support of what I was saying. Or maybe he was just a smug son of a bitch.
“I realize you two have wildly differing views on this, but I do think that what Kevin is working on could change our world,” I began.
Dave snorted. “Oh, I totally agree, Sarah. I’m sure all those bionic zombies will change everything once there are enough of them.”
I froze in my spot. I never thought he’d go straight at Kevin and accuse him of something so vile. Especially without more proof than a marking he thought he’d seen in the heat of a really crazy, unbelievable moment.
Kevin moved forward. “Bionic zombies?” he repeated, blinking behind his glasses. I noticed now that there were flecks of… something on them. “What are you talking about?”
“So your major at the University of Crazy was mad science and your minor was bad acting, right?” Dave asked.
I backed up to the bed and sat back down because my head was throbbing.
“Over the past few weeks we’ve heard reports of a new kind of zombie.” I sighed. “Yesterday we saw one for ourselves. They appear to be bigger, maybe more alert, stronger. I started calling them bionics.”
Kevin drew back, but after a moment he nodded. “Bionics. And you think I created them?”
The question was directed toward Dave.
My husband folded his arms. “I’m pretty fucking certain, actually. Hell, maybe that’s why you want us to bring all these zombies to you. Maybe you’re making your own little souped-up army.”
“And why would I do that?” Kevin asked with a humorless laugh.
Dave shrugged. “Maybe you saw too many Resident Evil flicks and found yourself always rooting for Umbrella Corp rather than the hot chick. Maybe you like how it feels when you play God with dead things. Maybe you think you can take over the Badlands or even storm this supposed Midwest Wall that everyone believes is out there. I have no idea what your twisted mind would have as a reason to fuck with monsters that are already bad enough as it is.”
“David, please,” I whispered, although I have to admit, I was watching Kevin for his reaction to Dave’s accusations. For now, there wasn’t one. All the emotion was wiped from his face and his gaze held steady on my husband.
His hand held just as steady on the .45.
Finally he sighed. “David, you’ve been in the Badlands, as you call them, a long time. I can’t imagine what you’ve seen and done and been through. And I suppose it’s because of those experiences that you have such a low level of trust, such a low level of tolerance for hope. But I promise you, there is no way I would ever participate in making ‘bionic’ zombies, as you put it. I’m trying to eradicate this infection, not mutate it to my own devices.”
“Hm,” Dave said without hesitation. “Sounds like something a mad scientist would say.”
Kevin’s eyelids fluttered just a little, his only tell that what David said annoyed or angered him. His voice remained calm, though.
“Very well, you’ve made your point clear. You have no faith in me. And I suppose none in any hope that this thing that has happened to our world can be changed. But what about you, Sarah?”
His gaze turned on me, piercing behind the glasses. I shifted slightly beneath it, especially when I felt Dave’s stare with equal intensity and force. I felt like I was being tugged between two worlds.
Dave was the world I could see, the world of