Derek Goodman - The Reanimation of Edward Schuett

“Horton, all we want to do is leave,” Edward said. “There doesn’t have to be any issue between us.”

“No issue? Listen wanderer, Ritchie already reported back to me about what he saw you doing to that zed. We don’t tolerate any of that kind of sick shit around here. And you have to be crazy if I’m going to let a zed leave my town if it’s not in pieces. In fact…”

There was another shot, and Edward had no idea what he was shooting at until he heard the body fall behind him. He turned to see Liddie on the ground. Most of her head was gone.

“Liddie!” he screamed. “Oh my God, Liddie!” He ran to her, forgetting to keep low and out of the line of fire, but Horton didn’t shoot again. Edward kneeled next to her and, ignoring the gore and brain matter that smeared all over his coveralls, clutched her body close to his. He looked into the ruins of her skull, searching for any hope that the shot hadn’t been the killer Horton thought it was, but there was no way. She was gone for good this time, and no old man in the middle of Illinois could possibly do anything to bring her back.

“Shit, you crying over there?” Horton yelled. “You better cut that bullshit out. You’ve got to be seriously warped in the head if you actually care that much about a corpse. You better step out from behind the truck real slow now, or else we’re going to come over there and make you step out.”

Edward went quiet. He held Liddie’s body for a few more second before he softly lowered her. One of her eyes had been blown from its socket by the bullet, but the other was still there and still open. He closed it.

“Wanderer, Goddamn it, you have to the count of three to surrender your fucking ass,” Horton said. “You hear me? One!”

Edward wiped what he could of Liddie’s brains from his coveralls, then wiped away the tears that had been forming at the corners of his eyes. He stood up without saying anything.

“All right, that’s good,” Horton said. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Now drop the rifle and slowly get your ass over here.”

Horton’s truck was about fifty or sixty yards away and parked lengthwise across the center of the highway. Horton and Bert stood next to the truck with their rifles up and ready to fire. Neither of them took refuge behind the truck. They probably didn’t expect Edward to give them any trouble anymore. Edward walked toward them, not moving in any hurry but not taking it slow, either.

“Hey, I told you to drop the fucking gun!” Horton said. “Drop it now or we’ll drop you!”

Edward didn’t think twice as he threw the rifle out off the road. He didn’t need it anyway.

“Okay then, now just hold up and stop right there so I can send Bert to check if you have any other weapons.”

“I’ve got a weapon,” Edward said softly. “But I’d just like to see you try taking it from me.”

Bert gave Horton a puzzled look. “What did he just say?”

Horton shook his head. “I said stop!”

“And I said take if from me!” Edward said. He sped up, not quite moving at a jog but very clearly heading straight for Horton.

“Hell with this,” Horton said, and he pulled his trigger. The bullet hit Edward square in his chest. Unlike with his arm, he really felt this pain. All of a sudden all his breaths burned, and he thought he could feel air escaping from the gaping wound as he broke out into a flat run. But even without being able to properly breathe, Edward kept moving. It was easier than he’d expected. After all, he’d been practicing moving without breathing for almost fifty years.

“What the fuck!” Horton yelled as Edward jumped the last few feet toward him. Bert tried to shoot Edward, but the shot missed completely. Neither of them were prepared for this move, just like Horton wasn’t prepared for the next one. He brought the rifle up to ward off Edward’s attack, but the move left his hand exposed. That was all Edward had wanted anyway.

Horton screamed, more out of shock than pain, as Edward bit him. He dropped the rifle, but Edward grabbed it before it could hit the ground.

“Bert,” Horton screamed, “shoot this crazy son of a bitch!”

“I can’t,” Bert said. “He’s too…”

Edward turned around and shot Bert in the leg. Bert himself screamed and dropped to the pavement. The rifle fell out of his hands and Edward ran to take it before Bert could come to his senses and go for it again. Once he had both guns Edward stepped away from them both. He didn’t even bother to aim the weapons in a threatening manner.

“Don’t kill us!” Horton said. “Please, I can pay you.”

“It’s too late,” Edward said. “I’ve already killed you.”

Horton looked like he was about to say something, but no words came out of his mouth. He started to shiver noticeably. Bert watched this, completely unaware of what was going on.

“Billy, you okay?” Bert asked. “Holy shit, what the fuck did you do to him?”

Edward didn’t answer. He just watched as the son of a bitch who had killed Liddie dropped to the ground, shook violently for a few seconds, then stopped. That was all Edward really needed to see. He went over to Horton’s truck to make sure it still had the keys in it as Horton got back up. Horton didn’t even need any of Edward’s special orders to know that his dinner was desperately trying to crawl away.

Edward didn’t take any satisfaction as Bert’s screams turned to gurgling croaks, but neither did he cringe from it.

Larissa pulled her ATV up to the entrance of what had once been an abandoned Culver’s restaurant just north of Winnebago, Illinois. When they’d chosen the building the interior had been coated in thick layers of dust, and the walk-in coolers had still contained the desiccated remains of long-decayed food. It wasn’t in quite the same sad shape now, but no one had made the effort to fix it up properly. They’d chosen it because it was one of the few buildings on the outskirts of town that looked like a stiff wind wouldn’t blow it over, but that didn’t mean they were going to stay here long. Neuman Security was still in its infancy, and they weren’t sure yet where they were going to call home.

Rae Neuman came to the door as Larissa got off the ATV and took her rifle from over her shoulders. Rae had given all of her new “employees” explicit orders to keep their weapons ready at all times. They didn’t know who, or maybe what, they would be facing, but Rae knew that a threat could pop up at any time. Just because she had confidence that they’d be getting some action soon, however, didn’t mean the others believed her.

“Yet another round of the town and we’ve still got jack shit,” Larissa said. “This is getting to be a little ridiculous, Rae.”

“Oh don’t give me that,” Rae said. “You would be finding just as little action if we had stayed in Fond du Lac, and you know it.”

“Yeah, but if I had stayed in Fond du Lac then at least I would know Merton was going to be paying me sometime soon. You still haven’t proven to me that you will.”

“Everyone will have their Goddamned pay, but you’re still going to have to wait. If you don’t fricking like it, then you can walk back up to Fond du Lac.”

Larissa grumbled but went inside. Rae didn’t think she had to worry about the girl leaving, at least not for a while. The girl was only barely an adult, and she hadn’t had a chance to get out and do anything with her life yet. Even if she found this boring, it was still better than her previous job desk-sitting in the Merton building.

Larissa was one of only a handful of the first wave of people Rae had recruited from Merton when she walked out on the job a couple of weeks earlier. Few people had believed her stories of a thinking, talking, human-looking zombie at first. Some, such as Larissa, had heard enough of the idle talk from onlookers on the day of Edward’s standoff that they at least gave Rae a chance to make her case. Rae had walked out of Merton that very day, not wanting any part of the cover-up. Johnny had tried to talk some sense into her, so she’d walked out on him as well. That would have been the end of it if she hadn’t dug deeper, looking for evidence to back up her claims. A few questions to the right people had turned up the term Z7, as well as a few key names in the CRS that she could use to at least make her story believable to a few more people. The real coup, however, had been finding the picture of Edward someone had taken just as the CRS was taking him out of the back of Ringo’s truck. It had been enough get the attention of a few somewhat disreputable media outlets. She had made her appearance on national television almost a week ago, and that was when things had gotten interesting. Merton Security didn’t (she hoped) have any idea where she was right now, although she couldn’t expect that to continue for long.