Peter Clines - Ex-Communication

Todd smiled but shook his head. “Nah,” he said.

Well, I’m sorry, but I don’t loan out my comics to strangers. Besides, you’ve probably read them all, anyway. All my favorite titles stopped three years ago. I don’t know about you, but I don’t think it’s a coincidence that civilization collapsed right after Spider-Man made a deal with the devil .

The boy walked forward and squinted at the wraith. “I wanted to know, that is, I was wondering if maybe you’d heard anything from my dad?”

Zzzap cocked his head at the boy. Your dad?

“Danny Davidson. Daniel, but nobody calls him that.”

Not ringing any bells, sorry . A few threads of electricity crackled from his shoulders to the curving rings above his head. He wondered if the boy was lost. A lot of kids had grown up inside the walls of the Mount, and when the Big Wall increased their world tenfold a lot of them had been overwhelmed.

“He’s about this tall,” said Todd, holding up his arm as high as he could, “with blond hair like mine. He used to be kinda fat but he lost a lot of weight just before the zombies showed up.”

Sorry , said Zzzap, still nothing. Where would I know him from?

“What do you mean?”

Is he one of the scavengers or a gate guard or something? Were you guys out at Krypton?

Todd shook his head. “No, we’ve been here all along. Mom and I live over in Fifteen with my little sister.” He turned and pointed back at the door. “We stayed here after everybody else moved out.”

Okay. So where’s your dad?

“Well, he’s … he’s dead. He died just before we moved here to the Mount.”

Zzzap’s stomach dropped. It was a sensation he’d never felt in the energy form before. He didn’t like it.

“Some people were talking about the corpse girl and the magician,” said Todd. “They said you could talk to him when he was a ghost and that’s how he came back to life.”

Yeah … That’s not how it happened .

“But you could talk to him. To the ghosts.”

Not exactly. I mean, yeah, but Max—the magician—he was a real special case .

“Can you talk to my dad?”

Y’know, Todd-buddy, I think this is a conversation you might want to have with your mom. Or maybe Father Andy .

“It was Mom’s idea,” said the boy.

What was?

“Asking you. She thought you could bring Dad back, too.”

Zzzap knew he didn’t have a stomach in the same sense he didn’t have a finger. The energy form mimicked the shape of his body, not his internal organs. But his stomach was churning now.

“I miss him a lot,” said Todd. “Cloddy—she’s my little sister, Claudia—she doesn’t remember him as much, but she was sad for a long time when he died. Mom says she sees him outside the Wall now and then. He’s hanging around because he remembers us, too, deep down inside.”

Yeah, that’s probably it , said Zzzap. Look, Todd, I don’t think you understand what you’re asking me for .

“I’m asking you to bring my dad back.”

I would if I could , he said. I swear I would. But it’s just not how it works .

“But you already did it once. Couldn’t you do it again?”

But I didn’t really do anything , he said. It’s like saying the radio has something to do with writing your favorite song .

The boy scratched his head. “Maybe you could just let me talk to him for a while.”

Zzzap wondered how much trouble he’d get in if he fled the Mount right at that moment. They had lots of solar cells and some storage batteries. I can’t .

“Or Mom. She misses him, too. She cried a lot when we first moved here. I know she’d be happier if she could talk to him for a little while.”

The boy glanced over his shoulder at the door. Zzzap followed his gaze and focused on the far wall. It wasn’t hard to look through objects, it just made everything a lot blurrier. There were at least two dozen people waiting outside. Maybe closer to thirty. Men, women, children. He was pretty sure he recognized Christian Nguyen among them. Half of them were on their knees, their hands pressed together.

Oh, frak me , he muttered. It came out as a blast of static.

The boy flinched from the sound, but only for a moment. “Can you do it? Please?”

Todd, look, you’ve just got the wrong idea. All of you. It’s not that—

“Is there a problem?” a voice echoed through Four.

Zzzap sagged inside the rings of the electric chair. Oh, thank God .

Stealth walked out of the far corner of the room. The one with the deepest shadows, of course. She moved across the chamber with slow, even steps, and her boot heels clicked on the concrete floor. Her cloak caught the small currents from the electric chair and drifted behind her like trails of smoke.

Zzzap saw Todd’s temperature shoot up three degrees and his heart rate jump. He wasn’t sure if the boy was facing his childhood boogeyman or his first prepubescent fantasy. Todd probably didn’t know, either.

She stopped in front of the boy and crossed her arms. Even with her featureless mask, it was clear her gaze had fallen on him. “You are Todd Davidson,” she said. “Age ten and three months, son of Marcie, older brother of Claudia. Not doing well in English class.”

The boy’s heart rate revved again, just as he was getting it under control.

“You should not be here unescorted.”

There was a long pause before he squeaked, “My mom’s right outside.”

“Then why are you in here?”

The boy shivered. He hadn’t blinked since Stealth had crossed her arms. “I … I just wanted to ask a favor.”

“You are being unfair to Zzzap,” she said with a gesture at the wraith. “He wishes to help, but you are asking for something he cannot give you.”

“He helped the magician.”

“You refer to Maxwell Hale?”

Todd nodded twice.

Stealth’s head swung side to side within her hood. “You are mistaken. Zzzap did not help him. Maxwell made several preparations on his own which allowed him to survive. That is all.”

“But he was dead,” said the boy. “He was dead and he could talk to him.” He pointed an accusing finger at the gleaming figure.

“It might appear that way,” Stealth said, “but that is not what happened.”

“But everyone’s saying—”

“Everyone saying something does not make it true. You are old enough to know this.” The cloaked woman let the words echo in the room for a moment. “Zzzap did not and cannot bring anyone back from the dead.”

Todd sighed. His face slumped into the universal expression of a kid who’d been told something depressing that he’d suspected anyway. “Are you sure?”

“I am.”

Sorry .

The boy stared at Stealth’s boots. Zzzap could see him cooling off, and the hint of moisture at his eyes. “Okay.”

“The crowd outside is going to be leaving soon,” Stealth said. “It is not safe for people to block the entrance of an important building like this. You should return to your mother and explain this mistake to her.” She paused for a moment, then reached out to set one gloved hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Can I trust you to do this?”

Zzzap saw the boy’s temperature go up another two degrees. “Okay,” Todd said again. She lifted her hand away and he slogged across the room.

“And Todd,” she added.

He stopped at the door and looked back. “Yeah?”

“Return your sister’s doll.”

The boy’s heart rate jumped one last time. His eyes went wide, his nerve broke, and he ran out the door.