Authors: Havelock McCreely
My Zombie Hamster (14 page)
6:25 a.m
. Everyone crowded into our den. Mom was trying to console Charlie’s mom. Dad was pacing back and forth, stopping every now and then as if he was going to say something, then shaking his head and continuing to pace.
“Genetically engineered superzombie,” said Dad, stopping suddenly. “The government has been experimenting on ways to use deadbeats as controllable weapons. Charlie is part of their experiment.”
“Don’t be absurd,” said Mom.
“No, you’re right,” said Dad. “The mayor doesn’t have the intelligence to keep something like that hidden.”
“What if she’s just a new breed of zombie?” I asked.
“Hey. She’s sitting right here,” said Charlie.
“Sorry,” I said.
Charlie reached out and took hold of her mom’s hand. “Do you want to know what I think happened?”
Everyone turned to look at her.
“I think what I am—what I’ve become—is the normal state of a zombie. If certain … conditions
are met. Think about it. What’s the first thing anyone does if someone dies? You run. You get away as quick as you can before they come back and try to eat you. Except, when I was sick, Matt kept me company. We spent hours on the roof just … chatting about our past. I … I could feel it inside of me. Like who I was, was trying to slip away, but every time Matt said something, it came back again and I remembered it was me, Charlie.”
We all looked at her, trying to understand her words.
“No one’s ever tried that, have they?” she asked. “Everyone just thinks deadbeats are mindless monsters. But maybe it doesn’t have to be like that. If we just take the time to be there with them as they die, maybe they’ll all be like me.”
“When do you think it happened?” I asked.
“I think it was that deadbeat who grabbed me? Back at the camp? I checked my jacket and saw it was torn. I think he must have broken the skin, infected me. Or whatever it is they do.”
“Do you feel the need to eat any of our faces?” I asked. “Because I know we’re friends and everything, but I don’t think I’d be comfortable with that.”
“Relax,” said Charlie. “Beyond a slight craving for some rare steak, I feel pretty good. Not tired or anything.”
Huh. Who would’ve thought it? I’d helped discover a new breed of zombie. I wonder if they’d name it after me? Hunter’s Condition. Something like that.
“But do you see how this changes everything?” said Dad suddenly. “If Charlie is a new type of zombie—sorry, Evelyn,” he said to Charlie’s mom, “then it’s world-changing. Look at her! She’s still Charlie. She’s still the same. If all it takes is to stay with people as they die, if all it takes is some human compassion, then we don’t have to be scared anymore.”
I’d never seen Dad so worked up. But he was right. This would change the entire world. If it wasn’t a fluke.
“That still doesn’t tell us what we’re going to do about the Zombie Squad,” said Mom. “They’ll be back. They’ll look for her.”
“We can hide her here,” said Katie, who had been up since the Zombie Squad arrived. “She can sleep under my bed. Or in my closet.” She looked at Charlie with a bit of a possessive smile. I could
almost hear her thoughts:
My very own monster under the bed
.
“That won’t be necessary, Katie,” said Mom. “I’m sure we can find a mattress for her.”
The Zombie Squad came back later that day. Guess they found the lifechip. They searched Charlie’s house but didn’t bother with us. Like I said before, they weren’t the most intelligent people, and besides, who in their right mind would hide a deadbeat in their house? It was unheard of.
1:35 p.m
. Mom came in to have a talk with me. She started off talking about grief and feelings of anger and resentment, guilt, that kind of thing. I was kind of puzzled, because I wasn’t feeling any of that. I eventually had to stop her, and said, “Mom, you don’t understand. Nothing’s changed. She’s still Charlie. She’s still my best friend.”
Then Mom started to cry and said what a good boy I was. It was a bit embarrassing, and I eventually had to call Dad in to take her away.
8:20 p.m
. And here we are, all up to date. Charlie is lying on a mattress in Katie’s room. I’ve given her a load of books to read and said she can come
play games on the computer, because I don’t think she’s going to need sleep anymore.
I lay on my bed thinking about Mom’s reaction to what I said. I wondered if I should have been scared, or disgusted, or … or anything. Maybe I was a freak for taking this in stride?
I thought about it for a while, then decided I wasn’t a freak for accepting Charlie. Or if I was, then I was totally fine with that.
FRIDAY, JANUARY 247:00 a.m
. Right. This is it. I’m going to fix everything this week. Before the pet competition next Saturday.
List of Things to Fix
1
. Charlie. (Well, not fix her. But come up with a way for her to live among us. Which, if I’m being honest, is a tricky one.)
2
. Catch Anti-Snuffles. Seriously, what happened to Charlie is huge, I know, but I have to deal with Anti-Snuffles and his zombie pet army. I just have to. Otherwise, I’m in serious trouble. And so is Dad. I don’t
think I can handle having my best friend turn into a deadbeat and my dad going to jail in the same week.
3
. Can’t think of a number 3. Is that it? Only two things? That’s not too bad, actually. I’m sure I can handle that.
Okay, possible solutions.
The Charlie Problem
1
. Charlie pretends to be a long-lost twin, or a visiting cousin who looks remarkably like Charlie did. The spitting image. Maybe she can wear some big, ugly glasses to disguise her. (Hey, it works for Clark Kent.) This is necessary because she is now listed as dead by the Zombie Squad, and if she just turns up at school some rather awkward questions are going to be asked. She’ll have to change her name as well. Something like Laura. Or Maddy. Something like that.
2
. She’ll have to wear really dark base or foundation, or whatever that skin-color makeup is that girls use.
3
. Charlie invests in some industrial-grade deodorant. I’m not really sure of the processes involved, but let’s face it, Charlie is a walking corpse. An intelligent and witty corpse, but a corpse nonetheless. She’s going to start to smell soon.
Hmm. Actually, that’s a point. Any solutions that rely on disguising who she is will only work short term. There’s going to come a time when people will realize she’s not quite right. That she’s a bit green around the gills. Especially if body parts start to fall off.
The Anti-Snuffles Problem
1
. We track the source of the storm drain, head inside with … with what, exactly?
Now that I’m writing this down, I’m asking myself what I am actually going to do if I
do
catch Anti-Snuffles. Looking at Charlie has turned everything around. What if he just wants a cuddle?
And then I remember those beady eyes
watching me, filled with malice. That little mouth snarling in rage.
No, Anti-Snuffles is definitely one of the old-school deadbeats. Devour brains, moan and groan, that kind of thing. So what I’m thinking is—look, I can’t just kill him. I’m not like that. I know he’s dead already, but still …
So I propose we catch him and somehow propel him out into the woods beyond the gates. I’m thinking of some form of rubber-band cannon. Just send him flying out of our lives.
And the other pets? Well, I’m kind of hoping that they follow Anti-Snuffles. Either that, or without his leadership they’ll scatter through the town and the Zombie Squad can handle them. I mean, it’s their job.
8:00 a.m
. Charlie just gave me a heart attack. The door slammed open and there she was, her arms raised at shoulder height, her eyes blank and staring. I looked at her in horror, and she started shuffling toward me.
“Br-a-a-a-a-i-i-i-n-n-n-n-n-s-s-s-s,” she moaned.
I will admit that I gave a slightly girlish shriek of fear. That was when she cracked up laughing.
“Oh my gosh!” she said. “You sound like a little girl.”
“No I don’t!” I squeaked. I cleared my throat. “No I don’t,” I repeated in a more manly voice.
“You totally do,” she said, dropping onto my bed and flipping through a comic book.
I waited for my heart to calm down a bit, then stared at her curiously. “How do you feel? Any cravings for brains or living flesh?”
“No,” she said with a sigh. “Nothing like that.”
I couldn’t help noticing she sounded the tiniest bit disappointed.
“What are we going to do, Matt? I can’t hide out here forever. There’s going to come a point when Dallas catches me.” She straightened up on my bed. “I’ve been thinking about this. I reckon I should just head over the wall. Take my chances outside.”
“No!” I said. “You can’t do that.”
“Why not? It’s not as if I need food. And the other deadbeats will leave me alone now that I’m one of them.”
“You’re not one of them,” I said firmly.
“Matt,” she said, “I am. Look at me. I have no heartbeat. I’m not breathing. I’m a deadbeat.”
“You’re not. You’re Charlie.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but I held up a hand to stop her. Surprisingly, she did.
“No more. Seriously, Charlie. I’m asking you to stop.”
She nodded. “Fine.” Then she grinned at me. “When do we tell Aren and Calvin?”
SATURDAY, JANUARY 25