Free Reanimated Readz by Rusty Fischer Page A

family was gone, his mother and little brother wiped out in the Great Zombie Infestation of 2017. I’d only lost my dad, so compared to him I was lucky. I was also human. Sorry. Mortal.
    And the things I said to him there, out of anger, out of disgust, they make my face burn even now. “How?” I snort, the first tear falling. “How can you care about…me?”
    “I care because I know you don’t hate me, Tanner.” His voice is soft and slow, so listening to him is like listening to one of those relaxation CDs with the rainforest or snow-melting sounds.
    “I care because I knew even when you broke up with me, at the Center, you didn’t hate me. You hated the way the world is now. You hated losing your dad, and how your mom shut down after losing your dad. Like now, you’re just scared. From that time on, you’ve just been scared. But that’s just it, Tanner. I’m scared, too.”
    I snort. “Look at you, Calvin. You’re indestructible. You can’t feel pain. You’re immortal, for Pete’s sakes. What could you possibly be afraid of?”
    Calvin’s eyes soften and his lips part.
    “Life without you, for one.”
    He stands then, slowly, like he does everything, and turns away. I watch him walk, smirking through my tears at the grass stains on the butt of his white jeans.
    I may be the most unpopular girl in school at the moment, but suddenly I don’t feel so alone anymore.

 
     
     
My Brother, My Zombie
     
    A Reanimated Readz Story
     
     
    By
     
    Rusty Fischer

 
     
     
    There is a big rock a quarter mile from the checkpoint, and I tell Sam to sit. Literally. “Sit,” I say, like you would to a dog. He knows six commands. This is the first, and most common, of them.
    It’s amazing how often you have to remind them to sit. They’ll just stand all day if you let them. I don’t care for him so much, because he never gets tired, but it’s irritating as hell for me.
    It’s like that friend who always reads over your shoulder when you’re checking out the new Teen Beat in the library before homeroom, only you’ve lived down the street from her since you were like, five, and you know no matter what you say now she’s never going to stop.
    Sam smiles and sits. He looks nice in his cargo pants with all the pockets up and down the sides, and the stiff lumberjack flannel shirt over his plain white T-shirt.
    I can’t do much about the glazed look in his eyes, the marble-slab pallor, or the yellowing teeth, but at least his clothes are new and clean and pressed. Well, at least, they were before the six miles we had to walk to reach the first checkpoint.
    Sam is gentle, now, because I’ve been feeding him every few miles. If I hadn’t, if he was hungry, he’d be snarly and snappy and not so quick to mind me. His clothes might be torn and his eyes might be wild and his nostrils might be flaring at the scent of blood pumping through my veins. But he’s full, mostly, so he’s been behaving for the most part.
    I feed him now, strips of bloody, raw meat from a Tupperware container in my backpack. We’re getting low. Only six strips left. But it’ll be fine once we pass the last checkpoint. He can misbehave all he wants in the Z-Zone, and nobody will be able to touch him.
    Not anybody human, anyway.
    Around us the town of Sable Bluff is quiet, almost…peaceful. There are fewer people now that school is out, and work is out, and this far out of town, the streets are fairly empty.
    It’s better this way. Fewer people to point and stare; fewer people to heckle and throw things at Sam.
    He eats hungrily, taking each strip from my hand like I taught him.
    “Slow,” I say firmly. It’s the second command. He does everything so slow now, ever since, well…it happened. Everything but eating, that is. He could take three hours to walk a block, but three seconds to eat a side of beef. So when it comes to his daily feedings, I have to force him to take his time. “Slow.”
    He nods and chews steadily, a drop of