Free Anything Can Be Dangerous by Matt Hults Page B

Christ,” he cried. “What’ve I done?”
    Behind him, the thing that was once
his friend repeated its message. “Phone for you, sir.”
    Ron faced it, finding no hint of
compassion.
    He pushed to his feet, wiping tears
from his face. “Where?” he asked. “There’s no phone in the
office?”
    “ Up front, sir.”
    He pushed past the thing, striding
down the hall, trying not to dwell on the fact he’d just lost his
last tether to the rational world.
    Please, God, let her have
made it out…
    He didn’t look at the swarm of
customers as he rounded the corner. Instead, he focused on the
black rotary-dial phone mounted beside the notorious sign that
outlined the restaurant’s enigmatic rules.
    He snatched up the handset, expecting
some disgusting slurping noise or something requesting an order of
flame-broiled afterbirths.
    “ Hello?”
    “ Finally!” Diane’s voice
spoke from the receiver. “You’ve had me worried sick for
hours!”
    Ron’s heart convulsed at the sound of
his wife’s words. He almost dropped the handset as his whole body
went weak. “Diane!”
    “ What’s going on up there?
I thought you’d be back by now. Do you know how long it took to
track down this number—?”
    “ Diane, listen,” he cut in,
unable to suppress his desperate tone. “I need help! Call the
police, or—”
    Ron fell silent as he saw a fresh
batch of customers enter the restaurant. It was the first time he’d
seen the doors open since setting foot inside, and his eyes boggled
at the warm yellow sunlight glowing outside.
    Where he spotted a van sitting in the
parking lot.
    Cartoon letters announced “We
Deliver!” across the vehicle’s side.
    Ron licked his lips, thinking fast.
Four feet away, a decomposing cashier turned from his register to
face him.
    “ Place an order!” Ron
whispered into the phone.
    “ An order?” his wife
echoed. “But I thought—”
    “ I know, I know,” Ron said.
“Just do it. Whatever you want! Please!”
    “ You know I don’t like the
kids eating that stuff.”
    “ Please!” Ron nearly
screamed.
    “ All right…” his wife
answered. “Just bring home some hamburgers, I guess. But no pop!
You know how Eric reacts to sugar.”
    “ Four hamburgers to go!”
Ron called to the kitchen, almost laughing. “Right away, ma’am!
Thank you for ordering! I love you!”
    “ Are you sure
you’re—”
    Ron hung up the phone.
    “ Let’s go!” he shouted. “I
got a VIP order to deliver, pronto!”

He moved through the kitchen, spurring
the workers faster, simultaneously searching for keys.
Miraculously, he found a set on a pegboard not far from the
phone.
    “ Are we ready?” he
called.
    Four burgers were passed to the front,
boxed for delivery.
    He placed the keys on top of the
stack, scooped them into his arms.
    And turned around to meet the
cadaverous face of a young man sporting a mouthful of worms. A
glossy tag pinned to his shirt identified him as a
“Deliveryman.”
    “ I’ll get that for you,
sir,” he said, taking the boxes.
    And before Ron could react, the thing
was walking away, vanishing into the throng of inhuman
customers.
    Ron stared after him, numb. He spun to
reach for the phone, but now the wall showed no sign of ever having
had one installed.
    Thoughts clashed in his mind, from the
question of whether or not Wendy had returned to the real world and
was even now trying to find help, to the idea that a reanimated
corpse was driving cross-country with four boxes of god-knew-what,
bound for his family.
    In the end, he pushed those
mind-shattering contemplations aside.
    He’d wait, bide his time. But he had
to remain sane.
    At the counter, he slipped on an
apron, faced the masses waiting to order, and stepped up to a
register.
    He cleared his throat.
    “ Next.”
     
    * * *
     
     
    THROUGH THE VALLEY OF DEATH
     
    This story can be found in the
anthology:
    BEST
NEW VAMPIRE TALES (Vol. 1)
     
    Jacob wiggled his toes inside his
loafers, finding that the