I paused. After all, I’d never really given it much thought. I was dead, then I wasn’t, and I knew that I had the radiation to thank for it all. Guess I took it for granted. “I suppose, in a way, we do. I mean, one of the reasons we’re so slow, apart from death’s stronghold on us, is because I need to think of an action and the radiation needs to make that action take place, to power it. It’s like adding an extra step to everything. Why, do you think I can also direct the radiation to make the door unlock? Seems unlikely.”
“Seems impossible,” said Dara.
Ricky nodded. “It is impossible. The radiation only works inside of us: our own personal nuclear reactors. But . . .”
I took up where he left off. “But if you can control a nuclear power plant, you then control quite a bit of power.”
He nodded and attempted to touch fingertip to nose. It landed on his cheek. So much for that control. Then again, he had been dead, like really dead, for centuries now, while I had plenty of time to sort of, kind of, almost master my bodily operations.
Just to make sure, I too touched fingertip to nose. “Bull’s-eye,” I said, proudly.
“Bravo?” said/asked Dara, seemingly unsure what either of us was talking about.
“Now the true test,” said Ricky. “Concentrate and stare at the paper.” He lifted a sheet off the desk and held it a foot from my face. “Just a little. Don’t want to blow up the entire place, not with us still inside.”
“Amen,” said Dara. That, it appeared, she was clear on.
To say that directing a beam of radiation from my eyes was weird was putting it mildly. In fact, though it seemed that my brain did direct the radiation to help me crook a finger or bend a knee—neither of which I did all that well, mind you—it was still a subconscious exercise; this was anything but. Plus, I hadn’t a clue what the end result would be, besides perhaps burning my eyes clear off my face. And, yes, ouch.
“Well, here goes . . . everything,” I murmured, eyes locked to the paper, brain focusing, the rest of the world fading to the periphery. I felt the push, too, felt the energy rising, my eyes taking it all in, absorbing it before . . . before . . . WHOOOSH! “Well fuck me.”
Dara coughed. “Again, been there, done that, but that never happened before.”
The that in question was the hole in the paper, the edges of which were still on fire and spreading to the four corners. “I’m friggin’ Superman,” I coughed out, stunned, amazed and, yes, so sue me, just a little pompous.
Dara snickered. “Catty Woman is more like it, but fine, we’ll go with it. Just don’t go aiming those beams my way next time I accidentally ignore you and piss you off.”
“Accidentally.”
She touched fingertip to nose. It landed on her upper lip. “That is difficult, huh?”
Ricky sighed. “Can you please lift the paper to the alarm now? Before it stops burning, I mean.”
I nodded and quickly(ish) lifted the paper. Then I waited. Then waited some more. Until the paper reached its fiery crescendo. And then, WAA, WAA, WAA, went the alarm and down, down, down came the rain and click went the door.
“Well fuck me,” I said, yet again.
“Last time, been there, done that,” said Dara. “Now run!”
Which we did.
Ish.
Lost and Found
Back to the disco floor we went. The startling red emergency lights had flicked on, all other lights doused. From every corner the sprinklers sprinkled, soaking the zombies, who, as per usual, remained oblivious, even as they skidded and fell and tripped and writhed. Still, they were ordered to kill us, even though it had been a while since that particular nefarious order had been given, and so kill us is what they tried to do, the entire discoful of them aimed our way as one by one they noticed our attempted escape.
“KILL THEM!” we heard, yet again.
“You sound like a broken record!” I hollered, though I hadn’t a clue where that crazy bitch was hollering from this time around. I’d say she had eyes in the back of her head, but her wig was so friggin’ huge that it would be next to near impossible to see through it.
Dara then tapped me on the shoulder. “There’s too many of them, Creature.”
Ricky tapped me on the other shoulder. “And falling and crawling, in all this water, might not work to our advantage this time.”
“Thoughts?” added Dara, her eyes scanning back and forth and back again, looking for a way out of this mess.
“We should’ve stayed in Utah.” Yes, that was my immediate thought. Which might have been the only time in all of history that anyone anywhere ever said such a thing.
“New thought?” amended Dara as the crush of zombies began to surround us on all sides.
I nodded. Surprisingly, I did have an idea. “Zombie skin is too leathery for water to penetrate. At least with this kind of soft downpour.”
Dara nodded. “Uh huh, and?”
I grinned. “Leather can be cut, though.”
They both paused, clearly picturing what I was getting at. “Think you can do it?” asked Ricky.
“Worked wonders on that sheet of paper,” I replied.