Isaac Marion - Warm Bodies - A Novel

My incurable honesty makes me hesitate, and Julie frowns.

‘Yes,’ M answers for me, exasperated. ‘He can. And I’ll . . . help.’

I nod quickly. ‘M will help. The others . . . will help. Besides,’ I add with a faint smile, ‘you can . . . keep yourself safe.’

She shrugs nonchalantly. ‘I know. I just wanted to see what you’d say.’

‘So you’ll . . . ?’

‘I’ll go with you.’

‘You’re . . . sure?’

Her eyes are distant and hard. ‘I had to bury my mom’s empty dress. I’ve been waiting for this a long time.’

I nod. I take a deep breath.

‘The only problem with your plan,’ she continues, ‘is that you seem to be forgetting you ate someone last night, and this place is going to stay clamped shut until they find and kill you.’

‘Should we . . . attack?’ M says. ‘Get you . . . out?’

I put the phone back to my ear, gripping the receiver hard. ‘No,’ I tell him.

‘Have . . . army. Where’s . . . battle?’

‘Don’t know. Not here. These are . . . people.’

‘Well?’

I look at Julie. She looks at the ground and rubs her forehead.

‘Just wait,’ I tell M.

‘Wait?’

‘A little longer. We’ll . . . figure it out.’

‘Before . . . they kill you?’

‘Hopefully.’

A long, dubious silence. Then: ‘Hurry up.’

Julie and I stay up for the rest of the night. In our rain-wet clothes we sit on the floor in the cold living room and don’t say a word. Eventually my eyes sag shut, and in this strange calm, in what may be my last few hours on Earth, my mind creates a dream for me. Crisp and clear, alive with colour, unfolding like a time-lapse rose in the sparkling darkness.

In this dream, my dream, I am floating down a river on my housejet’s severed tail fin. I am lying on my back under the blue midnight, watching the stars drift by above me. The river is uncharted, even in this age of maps and satellites, and I have no idea where it leads. The air is still. The night is warm. I’ve brought only two provisions: a box of pad thai and Perry’s book. Thick. Ancient. Bound in leather. I open it to the middle. An unfinished sentence in some language I’ve never seen, and beyond it, nothing. An epic tome of empty pages, blank white and waiting. I shut the book and lay my head down on the cool steel. The pad thai tickles my nose, sweet and spicy and strong. I feel the river widening, gaining force.

I hear the waterfall.

‘R.’

My eyes open and I sit up. Julie is cross-legged next to me, watching me with grim amusement.

‘Having some nice dreams?’

‘Not . . . sure,’ I mumble, rubbing my eyes.

‘Did you happen to dream up any solutions to our little problem?’

I shake my head.

‘Yeah, me neither.’ She glances at the wall clock and bunches her lips ruefully. ‘I’m supposed to be at the community centre in a few hours to do story time. David and Marie are going to cry when I don’t show up.’

David and Marie. I repeat the names in my head, savouring their contours. I would let Trina eat my whole leg for the chance to see those kids again. To hear a few more clumsy syllables tumble from their mouths before I die. ‘What are . . . you reading them?’

She looks out of the window at the city, its every crack and flaw brought into sharp relief by the blinding white light. ‘I’ve been trying to get them into the Redwall books. I figured all those songs and feasts and courageous warrior mice would be a nice escape from the nightmare they’re growing up in. Marie keeps asking for books about zombies and I keep telling her I can’t read non-fiction for story time but . . .’ She notices the look on my face and trails off. ‘Are you okay?’

I nod.

‘Are you thinking about your kids at the airport?’

I hesitate, then nod.

She reaches out and touches my knee, looking into my stinging eyes. ‘R? I know things look bleak right now, but listen. You can’t quit. As long as you’re still breath— sorry, as long as you’re still moving, it’s not over. Okay?’

I nod.

‘Okay? Fucking say it, R.’

‘Okay.’

She smiles.

‘TWO. EIGHT. TWENTY-FOUR.’

We jolt away from each other as a speaker in the ceiling blares out a series of numbers followed by a shrill alert tone.

‘This is Colonel Rosso with a community-wide notice,’ the speaker says. ‘The security breach has been contained. The infected officer has been neutralised, with no further casualties reported.’

I release a deep breath.

‘However . . .’

‘Shit,’ Julie whispers.

‘. . . the original source of the breach remains at large within our walls. Security patrols will now begin a door-to-door search of every building in the Stadium. Since we don’t know where this thing might be hiding, everyone should come out of their houses and congregate in a public area. Donot confine yourself in any small spaces.’ Rosso pauses to cough. ‘Sorry about this, folks. We’ll get it taken care of, just . . . sit tight.’

There’s a click, and the PA goes quiet.

Julie jumps to her feet and storms into the bedroom. She pulls open the blinds, letting the floodlights burst through the window. ‘Rise and shine, Miss Greene, we’re out of time. Do you remember any old exits in the wall tunnels? Wasn’t there a fire escape somewhere by the sky box? R, can you climb a ladder yet?’

‘Wait, what?’ Nora croaks, trying to shield her eyes. ‘What’s happening?’

‘According to R’s friend, maybe the end of this shitty undead world, if we don’t get killed first.’

Nora finally comes awake. ‘Sorry, what?’

‘I’ll tell you later. They just announced a sweep. We have maybe ten minutes. We need to find . . .’ Her voice fades and I watch her mouth move. The shapes her lips make for each word, the flick of tongue against glistening teeth. She is holding onto hope but my grip is slipping. She twists at her hair as she talks, her golden tresses stiff and matted and in need of a wash.

The spicy smell of her shampoo, flowers and herbs and cinnamon dancing with her natural oils. She would never say what brand she used. She liked to keep her scent a mystery.

‘R!’

Julie and Nora are staring at me, waiting. I open my mouth to speak, but I have no words. And then the front door of the house bangs open so hard it resonates through the metal walls all the way to where we’re standing. Heavy, booted footfalls pound the stairs.

‘Oh Jesus,’ Julie says in a panicked breath. She herds us out of the room and into the hallway bathroom. ‘Get his makeup back on,’ she hisses to Nora, and slams the door shut.

As Nora fumbles with her compact and tries to re-rouge my rain-stained face, I hear two voices out in the hall.

‘Dad, what’s going on? Did they find the zombie?’

‘Not yet, but they will. Have you seen anything?’

‘No, I’ve been here.’

‘Are you alone?’

‘Yeah, I’ve been here since last night.’

‘Why is the bathroom light on?’

Footsteps pound towards us.

‘Wait, Dad! Wait a second!’ She lowers her voice a little. ‘Nora and Archie are in there.’

‘Why did you just tell me you’re here alone? This is not a time for games, Julie, this is not a time for hide-and-seek.’

‘They’re . . . you know . . . in there.’

There is the briefest of hesitations. ‘Nora and Archie,’ he shouts at the door, his voice compressed and extremely loud. ‘As you just heard on the intercom there is a breach in progress. I cannot begin to imagine a worse time for lovemaking. Come out immediately.’

Nora straddles me against the sink and buries my face in her cleavage just as Grigio yanks the door open.