Ray
The sun begins to rise above the barren farmland. My new smartwatch reads 7:30 a.m. It's only a half-hour until showtime. I feel the excitement rushing through my veins. I race forward, heading for the ultimate destination; home. Mom and dad are going to be thrilled to see me. "Forget about it, Rig," says a somewhat somber, yet caring voice.
I stop dead in my tracks. I hate that stupid nickname.
"John, that's not my name!"
The grizzled old man shoots me a smirk. That's John, or as everyone here calls him, John the Digger. I turn around as he continues hacking the earth, switching between his trusty pickaxe and shovel. He pauses, tipping his wide-brimmed hat, dressed like an undertaker in a black shining jacket, pants, and black steel-toed boots. He's my only "friend," since I moved here a year and a half ago. To him, and mostly everyone else, I'm a bit of a rebel.
John is halfway through the dirt. "Kid," he says. "You've been here for over a year. You turned eleven three weeks ago. You should be used to the system by now. You can't see your loved ones... Not possible."
John takes a whiff of air, breathing in this "paradise." A large group of sickly greenish people are marching to loud hip-hop music. I nod to the rhythm. John smiles. "See?" he says. "This place isn't as bad as you think."
I hide my smile with an unimpressed look.
It's so fun. Everyone is eating cotton candy, playing fun games, carrying sparklers. Even total strangers join in. As if. I'll pass. It's fleeting, just a distraction from this cruel reality. We're dead, stuck between life and death because those here died unfulfilled, with regrets deep enough to keep them from passing on. I'd do anything to be alive again.
John's almost done with the hole; time to get into character. I roll my eyes to the back of my head and stretch my arms out. A man climbs out of the same hole. He's wearing a business suit. His jaw is hanging from the seams, slightly decomposed. It heals immediately.
"Aarrraghhh!" I growl.
He slips into the hole, trembling like a baby. "Zombie! Please… don't eat me!" he pleads. The look on his face is priceless. It makes me laugh until I cry. The zombie bit gets them every time.
John gives me a disappointed scowl, shaking his head in disapproval. "Really, Rig, that's the only thing that makes you happy?"
"Stop calling me that!" I shout. "It's Ray! How hard is it to say Ray?"
But he's right. I hate being dead, so scaring the life out of new visitors is the only way to show my living side. That and I love the look on their faces like they're gonna pee themselves.
The man gets to his knees, begging. "Please don't eat me! I'll pay you anything. I'll get you some makeup for that skin condition. I don't think that's healthy."
John grabs the man's hand, pulling him out of the grave with such a force that the man's arm comes off. John takes a needle and thread from his pocket, sews the man's arm back, and then rotates it. It's good as new. John's calm face relaxes the new resident. He takes the man to a nearby stump and tells him to take a seat.
"You're dead," John says, without hesitation. Ouch. He could've eased the man into the news. Instead, he ripped the Band-Aid off
The man stares at John in disbelief. "It can't be." I look at all the greenish, pale, ashy, and bluish people moving around. The pain is sinking in. The man breaks down into a sad mess, thrashing around, and then beats the soft soil with his fist. I fight back the tears as I approach the man. I embrace him, hoping to calm him down.
I remember I was like the businessman, crying for hours, alone, without my parents. My uncle came, trying to make me feel better. But I still felt that hole inside. That emptiness.
John explains to the businessman this is another chance at life.
The man's eyes are filled with hope. I pat Bill's shoulder, taking a deep sigh. "Mr. Bill, uh, what John said was nice and all, but there are three problems with being a zombie. First, you can't see anyone you cared about when you were living."
Bill gives me a stunned expression. "I can't see my wife and kid, or my parents."
"That's the toughest part of this. I can't see my parents, either." I sigh depressingly. "Second, we zombies have a time restriction when entering the living world. And finally…"
I take a pouch from my pocket. I dig into it, pulling out a tooth and a packet of salt. I tear the packet open, dumping the salt on the tooth. It combusts into yellowish-green flames before turning to ash. "Salt is bad for zombies. It destroys the molecular bonds in our bodies."
I'm riddled with guilt looking into his sad puppy-like eyes.
"But being dead still has its perks," I smile. "Our bodies are imbued with necro energy, which is the opposite of life energy in living people. It pretty much allows us to have a living-like body. We age like a normal person, but the older we get, the more our bodies decompose. Like yourself here, we spent six months in the ground. The dirt revitalizes our cells with necro energy, preventing decomposition from moisture and humidity. You sleep through it and don't remember a thing, until you wake up, realizing you're buried under hundreds of pounds of dirt, screaming, digging yourself out, wondering what the heck is going on."
"Sounds like an annoying, 11- year old, African-American kid I know." John snickers, looking at me."
I shoot John a wary scowl. "Also, we need food, water, sleep, oxygen like any other living creature."
Bill gives me confused look. "So we have to consume human flesh to survive?"
I feel the frustration rising inside of me. Calm down, Ray, breathe. John takes note of my exasperated expression and takes over.
"The kid hates that question, and so do I. We have the same diet as a living person, so why on God's green earth would we eat people?"
John has a nearby zombie escort Bill to the farm. That's what I call home. It's actually a place called Moss Town that houses newly dead residents. It's ran by the Zombie Accord Services, aka ZAS, an organization that keeps us protected from dangers from outside our borders, as well as serving as a starting place to get us adjusted to the whole being dead thing. John's job involves finding undead residents buried under the dirt. I don't know how he finds them; it's like he just knows.
It's boring because they keep us tied up with the rules for our safety. The town has everything to keep us happy, but that's not enough. We just want to live the way we did when we were alive and get a chance to breathe and not be smothered like overprotective children.
We also have zombie factions, which is a fancy term for a group of undead outlaws or gangs. They're pretty bad, like looting, killing, burn-your-town-down-with-everyone-in-it bad. But they never come here. There are also dangerous undead creatures and monsters that wander around, killing or eating anything living or undead; sometimes they just cause mayhem for the thrill of it.
As I glance back at Bill, his smile turns to a frown. This place is nice, but it's not a paradise. Unlike them, unlike the rest of these corpses, I'm going to find a way to be alive again. I swear I'm going to return to my family.
Me and John get into an old mustang. He starts the car with a rusted-beat-up key and drives off. I don't want to go back to the farm. John plays 90's pop music in the car throughout the whole ride.
Within an hour, John and I arrive back in town. We exit the car. In bustling Moss Town, zombies are moving about, going on with their mundane lives. One man is playing poker with his friends, laughing to his heart's content. A short woman across the street with stitches across her nose is watering her plants. A large group of zombies are showing their tickets to the staff, as they pass through a bright portal that leads to the Living World. A normal Moss Town day.
A kid my age throws a ball my way. I gear myself up for a pitch and let it go. It crashes through a window. I laugh nervously as John lowers his hat, taking a deep sigh.
"Kid, that's the third window this month," John sighs. "What am I going with you?"
An old man with bags under his eyes looks out the busted window with a lifeless stare. He tosses the ball back, but his arm falls off, landing next to me.
I pick up his arm. "Got to be careful, Old Man Perry. Look alive." I toss him his arm back.
"How can you be so, lively?" he says.
His words cut me deep. I look at everyone around me, although they have everything to keep themselves happy, you can see the misery behind their smiles.
"Cause I'm going to be alive again and see my parents," I shout with glee.
The zombies look at me like I'm crazy. They start laughing hysterically. "Look, kid," says the Old Man Perry. "Cursed to live out our days as zombies is our life. Get used to it. I can't look my grandkids in the face, without turning to dust. I can only be out between the hours of 8 morning to 8 noon in the Land of the Living or else I turn to dust. The same is with all undead folk. So, suck it up, Ray. This is your new life. See us? We do what makes us happy."
I'm ready to tell Old Man Perry a thing or two, but John gets in front of me. "You know the kid has a big imagination," John says to Old Man Perry. "Besides, stop being all mopey. Smile. Think about the positive."
Old Man Perry scratches his chin. "Ray's uncle does keep the riff-raff at bay, so that's somewhat comforting."
I look at John. "Old Man Perry is a jerk."
"Well, kid, as we know, sometimes misery can bring the worst in all of us," John says.
I smile. "But unlike him, this place isn't going to beat me. I'm going to be alive…."
"…again and see my parents," says an irritated voice.
A tall, living elderly priest walks by in colorful black robes, with a look of disgust. His grey hair is neatly combed back. The wrinkles on his face are years of hard work and stress of being the priest to the town.
"Father O'Riley," I smile.
He smiles back. "That guy you and John dug up, we transported him to the main site. The people there are getting his papers ready, giving him the tour… the usual."
As Father O'Riley is talking, another bright light emerges nearby. A smile whips across my face. It's another portal to the living world. I sneak off to the crackling gate of energy where my parents are. I missed them so much. A column of blue flames emerges from the ground, blocking my way to the portal.
"Dang it!" I shout. "I was going to get some video games," I say to O'Riley.
He waves his hand and the fire disappears. "Get a slip like everyone else."
"I would, but I can't because you guys suck the fun out of everything," I moan.
O'Riley grins. "Or is it because you almost endanger your life on every occasion? Last week, I had to literally tackle you to the ground to prevent you from looking your parents in the eye. If you would've died on my watch, I don't think your Uncle Elijah would be too happy about that."
O'Riley stops, kneeling beside me, stretching his hand out. "Look around, Ray."
I take in the zombies just going through normal life, just doing what makes them happy. I notice some are even smiling. But behind those smiles, are just sad people who miss their families---just like me.
"I know being a zombie is difficult. I'm alive, so I can't relate to your pain, but I understand it at the same time. This is a second chance at life. This town has everything you want to make you happy. At least try to make the effort."
"Everything, except my mother and father," I finish.
Living and dead men in gray uniforms sporting a mountain insignia on their collars, push me aside, interrupting O'Riley's deep conversation. They're heavily armed with tanks on their backs and knives and guns inside their jackets. O'Riley waves me away, telling me to go back home. I sneak to the back of a building where they can't see me at. The Regulatory Committee is here, which means ZAS is doing something big. The guys in uniforms are like our special security if things get crazy.
"Father O'Riley," a zombie blurts out. "A living junior officer under my supervision has gone missing."
"A lot of living people have been missing lately on the news," another officer adds.
O'Riley glances into the distance, pinching his forehead in irritation. "Apparently you people didn't make sure you weren't followed."
The men look into the distance, assuring O'Riley there's nothing here.
Something grasps my shoulder. It startles me. I turn around, picking up a nearby rock to protect myself. It's John. I take a sigh of relief and drop the stone.
"Don't scare me like that, John," I said. "Did you hear that? It's like on the news. People…living people have been going missing."
Recently, living people have been kidnapped in the living world, but not in high numbers. It's usually people no one really cares about or notices if they're gone.
John gives a hearty laugh. "See, kid, you get to see something interesting today. This place isn't as boring as you think."
"What are you talking about, there's nothing here except miles of road…"
The ground starts shaking violently like there's an earthquake. I scan the area, but there's nothing unusual in sight, except Old Man Perry stealing a potato from the lady's garden. I look up ahead again, frozen in fear. I blink a couple of times, hoping it's all in my head. It's not.
Old Man Perry stares in the sky in horror, too. He kneels to the ground, saying a prayer.
"God doesn't answer the voices of the condemned," says a loud, unearthly voice.
Old Man Perry looks up again in terror, as his eyes meet the sockets of a giant, hulking skeleton in front of the city. It's dressed in skinny jeans and a black vest with a tattoo of a red sun on its skull.
Old Man Perry takes off in the opposite direction, screaming. "A gashadokuro!!!"
This giant walking skeleton, a gashadokuro, is the worst kind of zombie. They're former walking corpses filled with so much hatred and sadness that they amass the bones of the dead to fill their sorrow.
It immediately starts smashing buildings and taking living people, putting them into a metal cage inside its ribs. The earth trembles with every step the creature makes.
Living and dead ZAS personnel charge the skeleton. They spray concentrated salt from powerful hoses connected to the tanks on their backs at the gashadokuro. The skeleton's rib ignites in a yellow-greenish fire. It tears out the burning rib and hurls it at the agents. If Uncle Elijah was here, he'd take care of this.
"John, what should we do?" I ask, leaping behind a fruit stand for cover.
He's gone, racing towards the gashadokuro. "See, Ray, this place isn't so bad!" he shouts.
There's a giant skeleton crushing buildings and kidnapping people. That's the definition of bad. There's never been an attack on Moss Town, well, since I've been here. John told me there was only one attack within Moss Town's history, but nothing on this scale.
Stuff like this never happens. Moss Town is usually a peaceful place. Sure, we break the rules, try to sneak out without permission---that sort of thing, but nothing terrible. This town is so peaceful that countries in Zombie World have Moss Town ranked number one for the perfect vacation spot.
The only person capable of handling this is my uncle and O'Riley. But O'Riley is guiding the residents to safety, securing the people in the back of the city in a dome of protective fire. Old Man Perry navigates through the destruction of crumbling buildings and stray objects flying his way. A punctured salt tank is leaking salt, and heading towards him. Old Man Perry dives into the dome of fire, at the last second, but some salt lands on his arm. A small fire ignites on his arm, but he frantically slaps it until the fire dies out.
A huge shadow covers me. I look up, realizing its debris knocked over by the gashadokuro. I hop over the fruit stand, only to fall face-flat. Memories of the parents flood my mind. All I wanted to do was see them again. Can't believe it ends like this. A strange mist pushes me out of the way. I know where that came from.
Father O'Riley snatches me from the ground, shocked to his core. He shakes me roughly. "Are you insane? Get in the barrier."
I race in the direction of the barrier of fire, baseball sliding inside. My leg stings a bit from the friction of the ground.
The skeleton makes a run for it. The entire town shakes with every step. "I'm getting promoted after this!" the gashadokuro says.
As the skeleton's foot lands on the outside border, an eerie mist severs his leg. It's the same mist that saved me from the debris.
"AAAARRGHH! It burns!" The skeleton screams.
That mist means one thing. I look up at a building and see a chocolate-skinned man. He's late. My Uncle Elijah with his impeccable good looks, which run in the genes, stares down the gashadokuro as its severed leg reassembles.
As everyone realizes my uncle and O'Riley are present, the residents in the city return to business as usual.
The giant skeleton, who calls himself Tyler, stares at my uncle angrily.
"The Elijah Dean in the flesh," Tyler says. "I heard you were in charge of this district. ZAS is getting progressive, letting a meat sack, a living person, be the boss of a designated ZAS province. I was going to conduct some business and leave, but if I kill you---I'll go down in history as the man who put down a Dean."
I stare at the wall with torn posters of zombie outlaws, all with Xs across their faces because they faced my uncle. This Tyler guy has signed his death warrant. He doesn't know what he's up against.
Speaking of, an undead blonde-haired woman in a red dress appears behind me with a speakerphone. It's Amy Kitz, another regulatory member in charge of ensuring we know the rules.
She shouts at the gashadakuro over the speakerphone. "Mr. Tyler Gates! You have disrupted the peace of Moss Town, an Association-protected province, causing havoc in the living and dead world, and endangering the welfare of ZAS personnel! Turn yourself in, or leave this Town. If not…eh…you know the rest."
Gates cackles. "What are you farm zombies and living trash gonna do to me, a lieutenant of the Red Dawn gang?"
He should've just given up and left. He slams his fist into a building, but blue flames consume his hand, shielding the building. It's from Father O'Riley. He shoots another blast from his fingertip that destroys Tyler's arm in a giant, blue explosion. The skeleton's arm isn't growing back.
The zombies and living people gather around, cheering on my uncle and O'Riley. Meanwhile, John presses his feet against a nearby building, leaping from it. He soars through the air at supersonic speed, going straight through Tyler. The cage is gone, and a couple more ribs with it. John releases the people from the cage.
The giant skeleton squints with fury. He launches his fist at my uncle. A blue aura radiates from Uncle Elijah. It's the life energy of the living. Living people can do all sorts of things with it, but many don't know how to tap into it.
With a single swing from his sword, a giant blast of pressurized steam blasts the gashadokuro to bits, leaving a portion of legs intact. Amy draws an X over Tyler's ragged and grimy wanted poster. We exchange looks and she shrugs her shoulders. She did warn him.
Immediately, the town cheers for my uncle. Some are shouting John's name, but those are mostly the people he dug up.
So, that's over and it's half after nine. I have less time now. As Amy turns away for a second, I sneak for the portal to the living world. I smile as my parents' house is just a foot away.
"Nice try, but you're grounded for sneaking off last week," says Uncle Elijah, stepping in front of me and looking disappointed.
Dang, it!
"And help John dig up more people," he says. "It'll teach you to be more appreciative of life."
"Life?" I shout, stomping my foot. "You call this living?"
Amy positions herself between us before this gets worse. I hate this place. My stupid uncle will never understand because he's alive.
We go to an apartment nearby. I head upstairs to our place and go into my room. Inside, papers are scattered everywhere. It's a mess of research I collected since I've been dead. I pick up an article. It's about a zombie. He's wearing an open shirt and yellow pants, and cornrows covered by a bandanna. This is Jamal End. Next to his emaciated face is the Undead's Holy Grail, aka the Black Casket, my only chance at being alive again. This End guy found it during the Casket Run 10 years ago and became living again. Both living and dead have been searching since then for this casket. It has the power to resurrect the dead and the undead. However, it was stolen from End soon after he used it. But I'm going to find it, and be alive again, so I can see my parents face-to-face.
Someone drums on my door with a signature beat. It's Mai. She enters. She's the landlord and Uncle Elijah's girlfriend, although he's technically fraternizing on the job because he doesn't pay squat for the room. You couldn't tell Mai was a zombie from her milky skin. She looks just as she did when she was living until you touch her frigid, stiff hands.
She pushes my head onto her shoulder. I know what this is. It's "the talk."
"Being dead isn't so bad," Mai says. "You can replace missing limbs. Easy. Produce fewer fatigue toxins, that's a plus…and…" she smiles, taking out her eye. She holds it out, as her pupil darts around the room. She pops it back in. I turn my face to the pillow. I'm tired of the speech. I get a slight smile from her.
Mai rubs my cheeks, brushing salt from my arm. "But you're not like most zombies," she says. She's right. I don't catch on fire. I'm unique in that salt can't hurt me like the others. "You're special like me," she continues. She glances at the paper I'm holding with the picture of the Black Casket. "If you believe and work hard," she says, moving towards the door, "you'll see your parents again." She closes the door behind her.
I tape the paper to the wall, looking at the image of the Casket. I feel a burning desire. "I'm going to find it. The Black Casket," I say.