Free Anything But Zombies by Gerald Rice Page A

expression on Eddie’s face. He felt the same way when he thought about losing his penis: it wasn’t a pleasant thought for any male.
    â€œCome on,” Dillon said. “Let’s get the splint to Dr. Miller so you can keep your penis—damn, you’re selfish.”
    Dillon turned, left the room, and started walking again.
    Eddie followed, glancing from his crotch to the splint every few feet.
    They didn’t talk anymore until they reached Eddie’s office, which connected Dillon’s to Dr. Miller’s office. Eddie was hired to be their shared personal assistant; he would do anything and everything they needed to keep their operations running smoothly.
    Dillon continued into his office and Eddie stopped at his desk to drop off the splint and grab his tablet before rejoining Dillon.
    â€œWhat’s going on with the extra security today?” Dillon asked as Eddie entered.
    Dillon tapped one of his computer screens and brought up the most recent news—something he did every day since the threats of terrorism had increased. Last month, one of the Undead Americans who was coming in to be restored had been set on fire by a masked man who had never been caught. They’d had to cancel the restoration because the zombie had then been too damaged to salvage. Because of the incident, Dillon had tried to be extra vigilant and aware of what was going on with the groups. They were pretty extreme in some cases, saying they needed to purge the human race, to cleanse it again. They were against humans having relationships with people who had been restored, even though after restoration a zombie was once again a living, thriving human down to every cell of their being. Their minds didn’t work as fast and often they had to relearn things, but they were still capable of thinking. The research showed that brain function was almost returned to normal about two years after restoration: that is, from minimal brain function. There was no proof that zombies thought in their undead state, but there was some brain activity that enabled them to move. Stabilizing medicine that Undead Americans were required by law to take helped as well, even though they weren’t sure how; it definitely kept them from rotting and trying to kill living humans.
    Nothing popped out at Dillon from the news headlines.
    â€œI’m not sure,” Eddie said. “Is there extra security today?”
    â€œSorry,” Dillon said. “I know it’s your first day and you wouldn’t realize the extra security wasn’t normal, but I thought you might have heard something.”
    Eddie shrugged. “I haven’t heard anything. Is there something in the news?”
    Dillon shook his head and sighed. “What’s the schedule look like today?”
    â€œThree before lunch,” Eddie said, checking the schedule on his touchscreen tablet.
    â€œGenders?” Dillon asked as he started working on his second touchscreen computer, making sure all the rooms and machinery they would need to do the restorations was ready.
    â€œOne male, two females,” Eddie said. “Dr. Miller is taking care of the male, so you get the first female. Whoever finishes first will start on the second female.”
    Dillon snickered. “I guess you’ll be getting acquainted with the breast room today too.”
    Eddie’s lack of response made Dillon grin.
    â€œWhere’s Dr. Miller?”
    â€œShe’s in her office,” Eddie said.
    â€œTaking a nap?” Dillon asked, looking up and across the office through his open door, at her door. The blinds were down over the window in the barrier. She often liked to rest before she did a restoration so she was mentally clear and calm.
    â€œI don’t know,” Eddie said. “We got a DNA match on the male; he was previously in the military so he was in the database. I put in a request to see if he had any next of kin, but research is backed