Free Zombie Versus Fairy Featuring Albinos by James Marshall Page B

they do want you to use her. I’m sorry, Buck. They want you to use her to get close to Guy Boy Man.”

CHAPTER
TEN
Think Of Zombies As A Whole
    I let the director’s words fall deep into the sinkhole of my depression; I let them burst on impact; I let them splash down and swirl around. I absorb them; they seep into my recesses. The albinos want me to use Fairy_26 to get close to Guy Boy Man. How do they want me to use her? Why do they want me to get close to Guy Boy Man? What are their plans? “Why should I go along with this?” I ask.
    “Depression sure snaps you out of being mindlessly selfless, doesn’t it?” remarks the director. “But I wish I could appeal to that side of you right now, Buck. Think of zombies as a whole. The albinos are really distraught over Guy Boy Man. Not only is he one of the few living people who can see zombies, he has an idea. Normally, the albinos love ideas. They buy them for cheap and use them to make obscene amounts of money. But Guy Boy Man isn’t selling and his idea is contrary to all the other ideas the albinos have already purchased, used, and reused countless times. If Guy Boy Man’s idea becomes much more popular, it could begin to unravel the fabric of our society.”
    I move my shoes on the wool carpet, trying to feel the floor. “We really do like chaos, don’t we?”
    “Absolutely,” says the director. “But the albinos only like chaos when it appears orderly.” The director sticks his hands on his bald spot, as if he knows he’s in it up to there, over his head. “You have to keep in mind I’m new to all this, Buck. Movie executives and record industry reps don’t show up in my office every day. I didn’t even believe in them until two hours ago.” He sticks his fingers into the congealed goo in the hair on the sides of his head and holds them there. The director looks at me through completely white eyes. “They’re so scary, Buck. They don’t take calls; they don’t do lunches; they don’t order in expensive coffees; they don’t yell at flunkeys and lackeys. I wish I could forget them. I wish I could go back to consolidation. I understand mergers. I understand acquisitions. I make deals with or buy out the competition because competition is difficult and no one really likes it. It’s the strain. It’s too much work: innovating; improving. Trying, trying, trying.” Realizing he’s gone off on a tangent, the director takes his hands from his hair and stares at the disgusting mess. “We, the zombies, don’t like organization, stability, and regulation but the supernatural creatures do and, unfortunately, we have to share the planet with them. I shouldn’t say ‘unfortunately.’ It’s in our own best interest. If we, the zombies, were able to, somehow, destroy supernatural creatures, we’d eat or infect all humans, including our own young while they’re still too physically small to be of much food value and we’d plunder our people farms and we’d wreck everything before long, levelling all buildings, filling in all tunnels, and we’d run out of things to destroy eventually and it’d get really boring and we’d slowly starve to death, probably turning on each other near the end.”
    “You paint a pretty bleak picture,” I say, not looking at the work of art on my desk.
    “It’s realistic. In any event, the albinos are concerned because we, the zombies, risk exposure by Guy Boy Man. Currently, irresponsible living people are discussing us with increasing frequency. The mainstream media refers to ‘zombie banks’ and ‘zombie institutions.’ Thus far, they’ve been doing it in a completely offhanded manner, most likely because the truth is so horrifying. However, even casual references are worrisome. As you know, currently, only a few living people, like Guy Boy Man, recognize us for what we are and these people, heretofore, have been unorganized. In the recent past, when groups of people learned of our existence and accepted it