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Authors: Daniel Waters
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google…of giraffes.”
“You made that one up,” I said.
“Tommy’s taking a huge risk,” Phoebe said, ignoring our banter. “But he thinks it’s worth the risk. Or will be, if he succeeds.”
Maybe she was trying to tell me she understood what I had to do, even if she didn’t agree with it. Or maybe she was trying to convince herself; I wasn’t sure.
That fire was in her eyes again, that grim, steely resolve. I don’t know why it still surprised me. One of the first times I ever saw Phoebe, she was wrestling with one of those football players while they attacked Tommy in the woods.
But I think I could understand how she felt. In their own individual ways, all of her dead friends were risking their lives.
We all got together again a week or so before Christmas, keeping an appointment we’d made with the Hunters to check in on Sylvia. When we’d last seen Sylvia, she was going through some horrific “augmentation” process that was supposed to leave her restored, but instead seemed to have her—literally—in pieces, like an unassembled doll. We went to the Hunter Foundation expecting the worst, but were pleasantly surprised when Sylvia herself met us at the door, looking better than ever. Looking, in fact, almost human.
“Happy…birthday.” She greeted us under the watchful yet angelic gazes of Angela and Alish. “Sorry. I’ve been…OD’ing…on Christmas…specials…all week.”
I think we were actually stunned into silence by her happy return, watching her move, walk and talk far better than she ever had as a pre-augmentation zombie. We were so used to negative outcomes that I don’t think any of us—myself, Margi, Phoebe, or Adam—had even dreamed that she would be better off after the procedure. Margi offered her a bed at her house, as she once had with Colette, but Sylvia said that she was going to stay on at the Foundation and help the Hunters with their studies.
“This is…my chance…to make a difference,” she said. “Like…Tommy.”
Like Tommy. Like Colette, like DeCayce. Even like Tak, in his own way. Leaving her I was all the more determined that I, too, would make a difference by proving that my friends weren’t murderers.
I had Margi drop me off at the edge of the Oxoboxo woods, against the protests of my friends. It was late, it was dangerous, etc. I told them not to worry and that I was probably safer in the woods than I was at my family’s home, even, because who knew how long it would be before breathers started banging down doors and dragging zombies out into the street?
This really didn’t help my case any, but Margi pulled over and let me out.
“Kisses, kisses,” I said, stepping out onto the shoulder. Snow-covered leaves crackled beneath my feet.
“Be careful, Karen,” Phoebe said.
“Don’t you worry,” I told her. “Because I’m not. Worried, I mean.”
Hugs, hugs. I turned to watch Margi waving as she swung the car around, and also Adam and Phoebe in the back seat, Adam bending his head low to kiss Phoebe. It was just a quick kiss, a stolen peck taken when you thought the eyes of the world were on something else. But what I saw was the kiss that brought us—me and the one I loved—together. Something about the way he kissed her so brought back that moment.
The beautiful couple, boy and girl, in a close embrace, about to kiss.
One kiss to grant life, one kiss to take it away.
All our kisses were stolen moments like theirs. All our kisses were secrets: they were secrets that I couldn’t reveal to the waking world. I was too afraid to make those secrets public, and the one I love waited for me and waited for me, but my fear overcame me and we said good-bye. I tried to move on, but the blue fog washed over me, and all I had to cling to were my secrets.
My secrets weren’t enough to protect me, though, and the blue fog filled me.
And I took my own life.
I watched my friends kissing. They weren’t supposed to be together, either, I
“You made that one up,” I said.
“Tommy’s taking a huge risk,” Phoebe said, ignoring our banter. “But he thinks it’s worth the risk. Or will be, if he succeeds.”
Maybe she was trying to tell me she understood what I had to do, even if she didn’t agree with it. Or maybe she was trying to convince herself; I wasn’t sure.
That fire was in her eyes again, that grim, steely resolve. I don’t know why it still surprised me. One of the first times I ever saw Phoebe, she was wrestling with one of those football players while they attacked Tommy in the woods.
But I think I could understand how she felt. In their own individual ways, all of her dead friends were risking their lives.
We all got together again a week or so before Christmas, keeping an appointment we’d made with the Hunters to check in on Sylvia. When we’d last seen Sylvia, she was going through some horrific “augmentation” process that was supposed to leave her restored, but instead seemed to have her—literally—in pieces, like an unassembled doll. We went to the Hunter Foundation expecting the worst, but were pleasantly surprised when Sylvia herself met us at the door, looking better than ever. Looking, in fact, almost human.
“Happy…birthday.” She greeted us under the watchful yet angelic gazes of Angela and Alish. “Sorry. I’ve been…OD’ing…on Christmas…specials…all week.”
I think we were actually stunned into silence by her happy return, watching her move, walk and talk far better than she ever had as a pre-augmentation zombie. We were so used to negative outcomes that I don’t think any of us—myself, Margi, Phoebe, or Adam—had even dreamed that she would be better off after the procedure. Margi offered her a bed at her house, as she once had with Colette, but Sylvia said that she was going to stay on at the Foundation and help the Hunters with their studies.
“This is…my chance…to make a difference,” she said. “Like…Tommy.”
Like Tommy. Like Colette, like DeCayce. Even like Tak, in his own way. Leaving her I was all the more determined that I, too, would make a difference by proving that my friends weren’t murderers.
I had Margi drop me off at the edge of the Oxoboxo woods, against the protests of my friends. It was late, it was dangerous, etc. I told them not to worry and that I was probably safer in the woods than I was at my family’s home, even, because who knew how long it would be before breathers started banging down doors and dragging zombies out into the street?
This really didn’t help my case any, but Margi pulled over and let me out.
“Kisses, kisses,” I said, stepping out onto the shoulder. Snow-covered leaves crackled beneath my feet.
“Be careful, Karen,” Phoebe said.
“Don’t you worry,” I told her. “Because I’m not. Worried, I mean.”
Hugs, hugs. I turned to watch Margi waving as she swung the car around, and also Adam and Phoebe in the back seat, Adam bending his head low to kiss Phoebe. It was just a quick kiss, a stolen peck taken when you thought the eyes of the world were on something else. But what I saw was the kiss that brought us—me and the one I loved—together. Something about the way he kissed her so brought back that moment.
The beautiful couple, boy and girl, in a close embrace, about to kiss.
One kiss to grant life, one kiss to take it away.
All our kisses were stolen moments like theirs. All our kisses were secrets: they were secrets that I couldn’t reveal to the waking world. I was too afraid to make those secrets public, and the one I love waited for me and waited for me, but my fear overcame me and we said good-bye. I tried to move on, but the blue fog washed over me, and all I had to cling to were my secrets.
My secrets weren’t enough to protect me, though, and the blue fog filled me.
And I took my own life.
I watched my friends kissing. They weren’t supposed to be together, either, I
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