morning.” Bram reached for me again. “I’m glad you didn’t come. I would have been worried sick.”
I pushed his scarred hand away in annoyance. “Talk.”
With a rumble, he said, “We had to take on some zombies, okay? Back up the army. Thankfully, it didn’t turn into a bloodbath.”
“Oh God.” Cue me immediately feeling like a jerk. “I’m so sorry.”
Bram shrugged, though I could tell he was still troubled. “Let’s get everyone settled and then we’ll talk. We’re safe, that’s what matters.”
Respecting this, I gave up. Even though I still had questions, suddenly I wasn’t half as worried as I had been. The Punks could take over the world with giant mechanical dinosaur clowns and I wouldn’t bat an eyelash. No matter what might be happening, no matter how many fires might be burning, being with Bram always seemed to make things at least feel better.
He was okay. He was here. He was home.
Now I just needed my father.
“We can’t do anything right now. I went over to the Erika and spoke to Salvez already.”
“I swear , if I hear that phrase one more time …” I kneeled on my chair. “Anyway, what did Salvez say?”
“Like Dr. Chase told us—the Laz has mutated.”
“There’s more to it than that.”
“I wish I knew, Nora.”
It was dinnertime, and Bram was trying to get some food in him—the usual. Tofu. Protein used to trick his body into thinking it was getting the flesh it wanted, mixed with a digestive enzyme since his stomach no longer worked. Between statements, I gave him five chews. Under the kitchen table Dad’s Doberman pinscher, Fido, begged.
“You didn’t see Papa at all?”
“No. I asked for him, but got the runaround. Like usual. Every time I go over there lately, he’s busy. I feel kind of shut out of the research side of things.”
“Is it dangerous there? Should we be worried about him?”
“I told you about the living mob and the zombie attacks. We left once it got calmer and more army reserves arrived. See? I’m not holding anything back this time.”
“I want to see him, Bram.” I leaned my elbows on the table and fixed my gaze on one of the household signs Dr. Chase had used her talent with calligraphy to create: ZOMBIE-ONLY SILVERWARE GOES IN THE CANISTER. “I just want to know that he’s safe.”
Bram chewed five times. “Give him more time. The news just broke earlier today.”
“I know. And I know that he has the world on his shoulders. That’s why I’ve tried to be respectful. But Bram … I can’t do this anymore.”
Looking into Bram’s eyes, I could see that he understood. “I’m getting to that point myself. Somehow I’ve ended up a grunt on the ground again. Still fighting people. But I am not army anymore. Don’t want to be. Problem is, now is not the time to pitch a fit about it. We’ve got to stick together. Do what needs to be done.”
Putting my head in my hands, I tried to think. Bram patted myback, wiped his mouth, and said, “Look, I did get some info.” Lifting my head, I saw that he was cleaning off the fork and knife he’d used to eat with. “Here—I get to do the medical briefing this time.”
“Go for it.” It was better than nothing. I pillowed my cheek on my folded arms, turning my head to watch.
“So, you know the illness that makes zombies is fluid-borne, and caused by prions.”
“Yes.” I knew that prions were proteins, technically the same as other proteins already located in the human body—simply shaped differently, and thus diseased. They were wont to bend healthy proteins to look just like them, causing a deadly chain reaction that, in the case of the Lazarus, reanimated the dead.
Bram held up his knife and fork. “So imagine these are prions. They’re made of the same stuff—both metal, in this case—but they’re different shapes.” He stuck the tip of the knife through two of the fork tines. “Let’s say the knife is the ‘bad’ one. So the knife sticks to
I pushed his scarred hand away in annoyance. “Talk.”
With a rumble, he said, “We had to take on some zombies, okay? Back up the army. Thankfully, it didn’t turn into a bloodbath.”
“Oh God.” Cue me immediately feeling like a jerk. “I’m so sorry.”
Bram shrugged, though I could tell he was still troubled. “Let’s get everyone settled and then we’ll talk. We’re safe, that’s what matters.”
Respecting this, I gave up. Even though I still had questions, suddenly I wasn’t half as worried as I had been. The Punks could take over the world with giant mechanical dinosaur clowns and I wouldn’t bat an eyelash. No matter what might be happening, no matter how many fires might be burning, being with Bram always seemed to make things at least feel better.
He was okay. He was here. He was home.
Now I just needed my father.
“We can’t do anything right now. I went over to the Erika and spoke to Salvez already.”
“I swear , if I hear that phrase one more time …” I kneeled on my chair. “Anyway, what did Salvez say?”
“Like Dr. Chase told us—the Laz has mutated.”
“There’s more to it than that.”
“I wish I knew, Nora.”
It was dinnertime, and Bram was trying to get some food in him—the usual. Tofu. Protein used to trick his body into thinking it was getting the flesh it wanted, mixed with a digestive enzyme since his stomach no longer worked. Between statements, I gave him five chews. Under the kitchen table Dad’s Doberman pinscher, Fido, begged.
“You didn’t see Papa at all?”
“No. I asked for him, but got the runaround. Like usual. Every time I go over there lately, he’s busy. I feel kind of shut out of the research side of things.”
“Is it dangerous there? Should we be worried about him?”
“I told you about the living mob and the zombie attacks. We left once it got calmer and more army reserves arrived. See? I’m not holding anything back this time.”
“I want to see him, Bram.” I leaned my elbows on the table and fixed my gaze on one of the household signs Dr. Chase had used her talent with calligraphy to create: ZOMBIE-ONLY SILVERWARE GOES IN THE CANISTER. “I just want to know that he’s safe.”
Bram chewed five times. “Give him more time. The news just broke earlier today.”
“I know. And I know that he has the world on his shoulders. That’s why I’ve tried to be respectful. But Bram … I can’t do this anymore.”
Looking into Bram’s eyes, I could see that he understood. “I’m getting to that point myself. Somehow I’ve ended up a grunt on the ground again. Still fighting people. But I am not army anymore. Don’t want to be. Problem is, now is not the time to pitch a fit about it. We’ve got to stick together. Do what needs to be done.”
Putting my head in my hands, I tried to think. Bram patted myback, wiped his mouth, and said, “Look, I did get some info.” Lifting my head, I saw that he was cleaning off the fork and knife he’d used to eat with. “Here—I get to do the medical briefing this time.”
“Go for it.” It was better than nothing. I pillowed my cheek on my folded arms, turning my head to watch.
“So, you know the illness that makes zombies is fluid-borne, and caused by prions.”
“Yes.” I knew that prions were proteins, technically the same as other proteins already located in the human body—simply shaped differently, and thus diseased. They were wont to bend healthy proteins to look just like them, causing a deadly chain reaction that, in the case of the Lazarus, reanimated the dead.
Bram held up his knife and fork. “So imagine these are prions. They’re made of the same stuff—both metal, in this case—but they’re different shapes.” He stuck the tip of the knife through two of the fork tines. “Let’s say the knife is the ‘bad’ one. So the knife sticks to
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