Dead Ice

Nicky didn’t argue, or hesitate, just reached down and pulled Dark Hair up by a handful of his thick coveralls like you’d pick up a puppy by the loose skin at the back of its neck. “Hey,” the man said as his feet dangled and he got set on solid ground.

Domino had reached toward the blond, but he scrambled out on his own. “What the hell was that?” he asked. His buddy had stumbled away from Nicky like he was afraid he’d do more than just pick him up.

“Did anyone tell you why we want to exhume this body?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Blondie said. “You’re checking to see if it’s a killer zombie.”

“That’s right, which means it may come out of the grave trying to eat people.”

“No worries, we’ll get to the metal vault and it’s all yours after that.”

“Did you check the date on the tombstone before you moved it?”

They looked at each other, as if they were both going to ask, Did you check? Finally Blondie said, “It’s old, so what?”

“Putting a coffin in a metal vault is a modern concept. Before that it was just wood boxes, and those rot right along with the body.”

They exchanged another look between them. I watched them think it through and finally Dark Hair said, “Shit.”

“Yeah,” I said.

“They said something about it being a really old body, but that was all,” Blondie said.

“They didn’t explain the possible danger?” I asked.

They both shook their heads.

“You might want to discuss that with your boss later, or do your own research into burial practices through the ages. It might save your lives.”

“Are you saying the zombie could be just a few feet down and . . .” Blondie stopped and stared into the hole as if it suddenly had a sign above it that read, Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.

“It’s possible,” I said.

“They don’t pay us enough to risk getting eaten alive,” Blondie said.

“Fuck, no,” Dark Hair said.

“You guys wait over there until it’s time to put the dirt back in; we’ll take it from here for a while.”

They started to walk away with the shovels still in their hands.

“We’ll need the shovels.”

They looked at them as if they weren’t sure they were willing to give them up. “If you break them, the cost comes out of our paycheck.”

“We’ll do our best not to break them,” I said, and held out my hand.

Blondie started to hand me his shovel, but Nicky interceded and took it instead. “I’ll dig for you.”

Domino took the other shovel. “We’re paid to do the heavy lifting, right?”

“You know my rule, I don’t let anyone take chances I won’t take myself.”

“Yeah, and we love you for it,” Domino said, “but you’re the only one who can control the zombie. Nicky and I can dig.”

“They’re right, Anita,” Manny said.

“I don’t want them in harm’s way either.”

“One of us will dig, and the other one can cover with the rifle,” Nicky said.

I thought about it and finally said, “Okay, Nicky covers with the AR, Domino digs.”

“Why does he get to cover and I have to dig?”

“Because he’s a better shot than you with a long gun,” I said.

“He’s not better than I am with a handgun.”

“No, he’s not, and if we empty all the rifles and go for handguns feel free to join, but since we’re starting with the AR, he watches your back while you dig.”

Domino didn’t like it, but he couldn’t argue with my reasoning, so he climbed into the grave and started digging with Nicky beside him, rifle pointed down at the dirt in case something tried to grab them. I got to stand beside the grave and watch the dirt for signs of wood, or pale flesh, or anything that wasn’t dirt. I could have unleashed my necromancy and searched the ground for the body, but I was afraid that even that little bit of power might push the zombie awake, if it was dead to the world again. I was so far out of known territory that I was afraid to do much of anything but wait to see the body, or the zombie, or whatever Warrington was now. The fact that even I couldn’t define what he was, or wasn’t, bothered me a lot. I was a necromancer, the first true one in centuries; if I didn’t know what was going on, then no one did. We were so screwed, because I had no one I could ask for advice, or help. I’d killed the last two necromancers that I’d met. They’d been trying to kill me first, so it was self-defense, but still it would have been nice to have someone to consult with—maybe I could ask some other animators and we could coffee-klatch? The trouble was, I knew that Manny knew less than I did about all this, and he’d trained me. That didn’t make me hopeful about getting real advice from anyone else in the field. Yes, I was trying to think of anything but the fact that one man I was in love with, and another that I liked a lot, both of them my lovers, were in a grave digging up a flesh-eating zombie, and all I could do was watch and wait while they endangered themselves. I liked being in the front of the charge, not leading from the rear.

With the rifle tucked up tight against his shoulder and cheek, Nicky asked, “Do I shoot at the first movement, or wait to see what he does?”

It was a great question; my answer wasn’t nearly as great. “I’m not sure.”