Free Badass Zombie Road Trip by Tonia Brown

corpse.”
    “Yup.” Satan stowed the bottle in his jacket again.
    “And physically—just physically speaking—it is dead.”
    Satan produced another cigar and lit it as he answered. “Dead as a can of ham.”
    “But it’s talking.”
    “Yup.”
    “And standing of its own accord.”
    “It would seem so.”
    Jonah sat up and eyed the corpse, which was still frozen in mid-thought. “And it’s thinking.”
    “Actually,” Satan corrected between puffs, “I do believe I said he’s trying to think.”
    “Trying. Yes. I see the difference. Then—and forgive me for seeming so adamant about this—but based on the whole walking and talking and trying to think thing, logic dictates that he’s not dead.”
    “Which he isn’t.”
    Jonah smiled for the briefest of moments, almost sure he had a grasp on what was happening. Then Satan went and ruined it by opening his fat mouth.
    “He’s undead.” Gnawing on the cigar a moment, Satan gave Jonah a sideways glance, as if measuring the mortal’s worth. “I thought Dale said you were smart. You talk like you’re smart, but I’m beginning to wonder.”
    “Look, is that Dale or not?” Jonah asked. “That’s all I want to know.”
    “Yes and no.”
    Jonah screamed in frustration and drummed his fists against the hood beneath him. “Why can’t you just give me a straight answer?”
    Satan’s smile was harsh and empty as he repeated his tired mantra. “Now, what would be the fun in that?”
    “Okay.” Jonah slid down the hood of the Focus, shoulders slumped in defeat before his shoes touched the gravel. “I get it now. This is all just a game, and you’re very amused by my confusion. I get it. Ha, ha. Joke’s on me.”
    The cold grin melted, not into a warm smile, but instead into a pout. Satan patted Jonah on the back. “Aw, come on. Don’t take it so personal, kid. I know this is rough, and I must seem like a complete jackass, but trust me. This is what you wanted. Better yet, it’s what you needed.”
    “But … why?”
    Satan shrugged. “You said you couldn’t drag a corpse around the whole U.S. while looking for me. Now you don’t have to.”
    “But that thing is dead.”
    “No, he’s …” Satan started, then shook his head as if thinking better of it. “You know what, forget about semantics, okay? He’s dead. Dead, dead, dead. Right?”
    Jonah nodded.
    “But dead or not, he’s able to carry his own weight. Which, from the looks of your pitiful physique, is bound to be a bonus here. He’s able to walk. To talk. He should be able to hold a conversation, as long as the topic isn’t too engaging.”
    Jonah smirked. “So he’s just like the real Dale then?”
    “Good one, kid!” Satan chuckled. “And you’ll need that sense of humor too, because without a soul, that beast is totally unfiltered. He has access to Dale’s memories and thoughts and lusts, but he lacks that spark that helps you guys struggle with morality issues.”
    “No moral filter? He’s sounding more and more like the regular Dale.”
    “Think of him as Dale squared. Maybe even Dale to the fourth power. He’ll be more aggressive than necessary. He might say the wrong things at oh-so-wrong times. He’ll have trouble curbing those delicious human urges.” The Dark Lord’s dark eyebrows waggled most distastefully.
    “You’re kidding.” The thought of Dale’s urges turned Jonah’s stomach.
    “Okay, then let’s accentuate the positive. He should be able to drive. That will help, yes?”
    “Drive?” Jonah snorted as he shot a nasty glance to the corpse, which was still mulling over a question Jonah had long since forgotten. “You think I’m going to let that drive me around? In a car? On the highway? Uh-uh. I don’t think so.”
    “I’m telling ya, he’s more useful this way than full-on dead. No body to drag around. Someone to talk to—”
    “What use is talking to him if he has to think every question over for a half an hour before he can