Zombies! Episode 3 - Love Bites (5 page)

His conversation with Heron had been short.
There'd been some kind of something at a hospital and they'd made
him head of a zombie task force. Shawn had laughed when he'd said
that. Another part of the façade.
Zombie Task Force
sounds
like comic book ridiculousness to the average person but when
you've actually seen one,
fought
one, it sounded like a
dangerous freakin' job.

"I'm going to get you out of here, Shawn,"
Heron had said.

"Don't do me no favors," Shawn had replied,
regretting it as he said it.

Heron had scowled at that. "You're going to
be doing all of the favors for me. And you're going to start with
dropping that gangland attitude. Trust me, you don't pull it off
nearly as well as you think. The next thing you're going to do is
report to me anything that's going on between kids and
zombies."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean? What
are
kids
gonna do with
them
?"

The detective had shrugged. Shawn remembered
his other two meetings with this particular cop. The first had been
at the site of his arrest. The cop had been there with a partner,
each very different from the other. This guy, Heron, was cool and
confident. Later, when he'd come to see Shawn in jail, that
confidence had gone. His partner had been bitten and his world had
been shaken up around him. The confidence had come back during this
third meeting, though. And it had brought an edge with it.

"Kids do stupid things," he'd said. "Some
teenaged idiot will think of something that will catch on with the
rest of you teenaged idiots and I want to know about it."

"So I'm like a narc?"

He'd thought about that, made a show of
weighing the simile in his head before answering. Then he'd nodded.
"I've already arranged to have the charges against you suspended,
which means you'd better hold up your end of the bargain. It'll
take a few days for the paperwork to go through and then I'll get
in touch."

It had taken two and a half weeks to run the
paperwork. Shawn had awakened every morning in jail wondering if
that day was going to be the day they let him out. At least it
wasn't like being in prison. He'd heard some pretty scary stories
about prison. The lockup was a little easier. Hard criminals didn't
stay there for long and the petty ones weren't really dangerous. He
could tell that his stay was
very
extended. The guards there
got tired of seeing his face and their abuse, albeit verbal, was
starting to get nasty. He wondered just how long he'd had before it
got even worse.

But all of that was behind him now. Now he
was free of jail, free of school, and free to see Marcus. He'd
already decided that he'd do what Heron asked him to do. He did
not
want to go back to jail only to wind up in a federal
prison. If he couldn't find some juicy information, he'd be the
idiot that made up the fad. Whatever kept him a free man.

Leaving the school, he took a different route
to the trains. It was too late to avoid his friends, which was a
necessity, but that wasn't the real issue. He was actually
afraid
to go past the spot where he'd met the zombie. Truth
to tell, he was afraid just to walk down the street. As much as
he'd hated the jail, he hadn't realized just how comforting those
four walls had been for him. He looked at the faces of everyone he
passed on the street. Some of them ignored him. Some looked back.
None were dead. None were
un
dead. But he had to make
sure.

The train station was even worse. The gloom
inside the tunnels made it hard to see people who weren’t right up
close. A zombie could be ten feet away and you would never know it
until he had his teeth into you. Hell, in the New York City Subway
System, you might not even notice the smell.

The train came and he boarded it gladly. It
was October but still warm and the air conditioner pumped cool air
into the cars. They were well lit giving Shawn the opportunity to
inspect every last face before relaxing against the door. If it had
been rush hour, he wouldn't have been able to take the train.
Bodies pushed up against bodies with no way of making absolutely
sure that there were no zombies on the train. Rush hour was like a
smorgasbord for those things. If one slipped onto a train between
five and seven o'clock, there wouldn't be any people left by the
time it got to the next stop.

The stations went by in a blur. People read
or listened to music or fiddled with their smart phones. A month
ago, Shawn might have been one of those people. Now he just
watched. Every time the train stopped and the three sets of doors
opened, he checked out every face of every person. He did it
without shame, almost with challenge. No one rose to the challenge.
And no one was dead.

In the city at last, his train hit the Wall
Street station and Shawn exhaled as he disembarked and bolted for
the stairs that led to the street. Even at a quarter to four in the
afternoon, the Manhattan streets were busy. Especially downtown.
The bus stops were filling up. People were going into and out of
the train stations. Still wary of anything that might bite him,
Shawn made his way to the building where Marcus worked. He still
had a few minutes, so he parked himself outside the front entrance,
leaning up against a sign post, and waited.

Shortly after four, Marcus came out of the
building. At the sight of him, Shawn felt his stomach flip. Marcus
was tall and well built with a shaved scalp and cream colored skin.
He was as sexy as a man could be and Shawn was pretty sure he was
only gay when it came to Marcus. Before he'd met Marcus, his
fascination had been with girls just like the rest of his friends.
But there was just something about this man with his tailored suits
and his West Indian accent that made poor young Shawn melt.

Shawn knew better than to approach straight
away. Like himself, Marcus had any number of reasons to keep their
relationship secret. The homosexuality probably wasn't an issue.
Marcus was a commanding individual who garnered respect well beyond
his years. But he was dating a minor and that probably wouldn't sit
well with whomever he worked for. He caught sight of Shawn as he
exited the building. He was mingled with three others, the center
of attention as usual. He flashed a bright white smile Shawn's way
and kept on going. That was fine with Shawn. He'd been seen.
Waiting for the small group to move out of view, Shawn detached
himself from the signpost and made his way down the Wall Street
alley.

Behind one of the buildings where the
pedestrian traffic was thinner, he found another place to wait. He
didn't have to wait long. Marcus was smooth as silk. Even if he had
plans with those other people, he could extricate himself without
dealing offense or begging a question. As he approached Shawn, the
two of them a tremendous contrast, his smile had been replaced by a
frown, almost a pout. Shawn burst out laughing.

"Don't you laugh at me, man," Marcus said,
slapping him playfully in the side of the head. "I ain't seen you
in weeks."

"You'll never believe it," Shawn told
him.

"You got yourself a better boyfriend?"

"Like there is such a thing."

"Don't you forget it. I was going to give up
on you."

"I was in jail."

Now it was Marcus' turn to laugh. When it
came to Marcus, Shawn dropped the act. Marcus wasn't impressed by
it and Shawn wasn't interested in anything that didn't impress
Marcus. Under the façade, Marcus had found Shawn to be a sensitive,
somewhat timid boy.
Jail!

They walked slowly towards Marcus' apartment.
He lived in a downtown two bedroom that looked like it cost more
than he had any right earning at his age. Of course, it went well
with his suits and his jewelry and the restaurants they went to.
Shawn had had to buy some new clothing just so he could be seen
with Marcus. As they walked, desperate to be holding hands but both
afraid of who they might run into, Shawn told him the whole story.
When he was done, Marcus said nothing. He looked off into the
distance, just walking, soaking it all in. Shawn was sure that
Marcus thought him a liar. Even when they'd reached the apartment
and rode the elevator up to the third floor, Marcus was still
silent. Even as they went inside and sat on the sofa, Marcus had
nothing to say. Even as he poured them both some liquor, Shawn's
very watered down, he was still chewing on the whole story.

Finally, he asked, "So this zombie thing is
real?"

"It's on the news," Shawn told him.

"What does that mean? You can't believe
everything you see on TV."

"My mom told me half the people in the city
up and left."

Marcus shrugged. "Not me. The office was
closed for a week and I got to plan my future."

"Well it’s real," Shawn said finally. "And I
wouldn't go planning any futures right now."

"Well then there's no point in us carrying on
together," Marcus said sarcastically.

Shawn harrumphed, a little put out by the
other's attitude.

"How'd you get out? If you really killed a
woman, which I can't believe, how'd you get out after three
weeks?"

For a moment, Shawn hesitated. He didn't know
whether or not to tell Marcus about his relationship with Detective
Heron.

Marcus smiled, sensing Shawn's hesitation.
"What? Did you cut a deal?"

"Sort of. The cop got the charges suspended
in exchange for me being his informant."

And just like that, Marcus' smile turned into
a frown and his brow furrowed wrinkling the smooth skin of shiny
head. "
Suspended?
What does that mean? When the policeman's
done with you, they put you back in?"

"Not exactly. I think it's more like, if I do
a good job, they lose the evidence."

"I don't like that," Marcus said sternly.

"It's better than prison."

"But not quite freedom. I think we should get
you a lawyer."

"I had a lawyer."

"Ha! Some green public defender, I bet. I'll
find you a professional."

""I can't afford that, Marcus."

"I will pay for it."

"No, Marcus," Shawn pleaded. "It'll be
okay."

Marcus frowned some more. "You want to be
this policeman's bitch?"

That stung. Badly. But Shawn was backed into
a corner. "You can't get me a lawyer, Marcus. My parents will
wonder where the money comes from and then I'll have to tell
them."

Marcus waved a hand. "You're old enough to
make your own choices."

"My dad will kick me to the curb."

"You can stay here."

That was tempting but impossible. "Marcus,
I'm only seventeen. It would be worse for you than it would for me.
Besides, I want to graduate and go to college. I got my whole life
to love you but the next few years have to be about getting that
life going."

"Who's talking about futures now?" For a
moment, he thought Marcus was going to cry. He may just have been,
but he choked it down. Then he opened his arms and Shawn moved in
for the embrace he'd been craving for so many weeks.

***

IT
was getting late and Shawn knew he
should be leaving. But it had been too long since he'd spent any
time with Marcus. Still, with his recent troubles, his parents were
ever vigilant about having him home on time.

"Just call and ask," Marcus asked. If he was
annoyed that his boyfriend had to ask permission to stay out on a
Friday night, he didn’t show it.

"What'll I tell them?" Shawn asked. "They
know all of my friends and they're either going to check up on me
or they're gonna tell me I shouldn't be hanging out with so and
so."

Marcus took the cordless phone off of its
cradle and shrugged. "You'll think of something."

Shawn took the phone and dialed. He waited
three rings before his mom answered in a curious voice. Of course,
the number of the caller id would be unknown to her, as would the
name.

"It's me, Ma," he said.

"Oh," she said relieved, then suspiciously,
"Where are you?"

"I'm at a friend's house. In the city."

Marcus nodded his approval.

"What friend? I know all your friends."

"You don't know this one. His name's
Marcus."

"You're coming home now, right?"

Shawn shrugged. "I was thinking I'd stay.
We're just hanging out and Marcus said I could stay over."

"He did, huh? Does his mom know you were in
jail for killing two people?"

He breathed out his annoyance. "They weren't
people, Ma."

"Whatever. You get home now."

"Ma, I just want to hang out like a regular
kid." That was a tough play, but Shawn was desperate. He was hardly
a regular kid, having been arrested for murder and wanting to stay
overnight with his twenty three year old boyfriend. But his mom had
a big heart and every once in a while it was important to take
advantage of her sympathies. These days she walked a fine line
between hating him and feeling pity for him. He hoped she was on
the right side of that line at that moment.