I shrugged. For a change I decided to follow instead of lead. After three hundred years, I figured I could use a break. “Did you go to school here?” I asked as we trudged through the layers of dust and debris, the windows barely letting in much moonlight, but just enough to illuminate our way.
“I taught here some years back.” His frown returned. “Well, that is to say, a few hundred plus some years back.”
I felt bad for the guy. None of this could be easy on him. Me, I had centuries to get used to the idea of what I was and what had happened; he had less than a day. Still, all things considered, he was doing remarkably well. Including the fact that we found what we were looking for in less than an hour, with minimal contact with any students, most of whom seemed to be locked inside of the various classrooms.
“Unbelievable,” I said when he held the jar out for me, its lone content sloshing around in some sort of preservative.
“Well, you asked for fresh brains.” He smiled. “Not exactly fresh, but I’d think, or at least hope, they’d do in a pinch. And they are human.” He pointed around the room we’d found ourselves in, the zombies held back by my command. “Gross anatomy class.”
I cringed. “Emphasis on the gross. But considering how many humans are left and ergo how many brains, beggars, as they say, can’t be choosers.”
“My thoughts exactly. And if it’s instinctual for the undead to feast on human flesh, brains in particular, than instinct will trump obedience any day.” He squinted into the darkness. “Or night.”
“So the guards will simply walk away, with no indication that we were behind it.”
“In theory.”
“Way to be positive.”
He smirked. “All things considered . . .”
I took the jar of brains and headed us out of the room. “Got it.”
He walked by my side, trying his best, it seemed, to ignore the other zombies, the ones held by my orders and the ones scraping the doors and the walls, out of sight, though sadly not out of mind. “Shouldn’t we let them out?”
“What would be the point?” I replied. “Hell is still hell, whether you’re in the fire or out of it.”
“Do you think they know that?”
“Did you?” I countered with.
He paused before replying. “I suppose not.”
I knew what he was feeling. I’d felt it myself countless times. “Morality, Doc, is only pertinent when dealing with a thinking, feeling other. These others have neither thoughts nor feelings. They simply are. Like a blade of grass is. And you wouldn’t free a blade of grass from the front lawn, would you?”
He chuckled. “Are all drag queens this deep?”
Me and the brain headed outside, a cool breeze suddenly whipping over us. “An onion looks simple from the surface of things, but look how many layers it’s got.”
“Plus, they taste good on a sandwich.”
“Well, it’s got me beat in that regard, but still.” We slowly made our way down the steps before I again turned his way. “Have you ever met a drag queen before, Ricky?”
I could see his smile in the near darkness. “Nope, you’re my first, Creature,” he replied. “You ever met a dermatologist before?”
My smile matched his. “If I ever had a zit, it was covered by pounds (seriously, pounds) of makeup, so what would’ve been the point? Besides, show me a drag queen with adequate health insurance and I’ll show you one with a rich husband who has way more than one kink in his coil, if you get my drift.”
“Not a clue.”
“Give it another hundred years or so then.”
“God that sounds weird.”
And it was about to get a whole hell of a lot weirder.
***
We walked back the way we’d came, Ricky by my side, the bait still sloshing about within the large jug. Thankfully, it was well-sealed, otherwise, no doubt, we’d be awash in zombies. Ricky stared from side to side now. I think he’d grown accustomed to the milling, groaning undead.
“How, um, how long before we revert back to that?” He was pointing to a herd to our left side.
“I reverted back once, centuries ago. The salt cure seems to last about a week. Then the radiation pulses through again, clouds our brains, our thoughts, until we’re—”
“That.” And still he kept pointing. “And when’s the last time you had any?”
“Just before we left the island. And you took all we had on hand. Which means that you and I have roughly five days before—”
“That.”
It was neither a pretty picture nor a pretty thought. Still, it wasn’t like we weren’t always near the cure. All it took was a well-stocked restaurant or corner store. “Don’t worry. We’ll find some more soon enough.”
He nodded, but didn’t reply. I knew he was worried, despite my telling him not to be. I suppose he had good reason to be, not only for himself but also for Lola now, for Dara. Heck, for all humanity, if that in fact was what Blondella was after.
When we neared the nightclub-turned-fortress, I halted all the zombies we passed. Because if I didn’t, I knew we’d be overrun once the jar’s lid was removed. In fact, that was still a possibility, given what Ricky had said, that instinct trumps obedience.