Free When The Light Goes Out by Jack Thompson Page B

he's not one of them." "Good."
    Part of me was curious about how well the little girl understood the situation. How much did she know? Did she realize exactly what a zombie was? Did she realize that these zombies were far, far different from Hollywood zombies given she'd seen any of the old zombie flicks. I didn't know, but it definitely wasn't the time to ask. It just wasn't.
     
    "Baby, what's your name?" "Rowan."
    "Pretty name."
     
    "It's a stupid name, and I hate it."
     
    "Well, what do you want me to call you?" "Pixie."
    "Well then, Pixie, how old are you?" "A woman never tells her age."
    I couldn't help but grin at the way Pixie shyly glanced up at me. Only a small smirk on her face. She was talking like an adult, but she seemed to be tripping over her tongue. Like she was repeating what she'd heard other people say, not quite realizing what it meant.
     
    "Sorry to say it sweetie, but you're not quite a woman yet. So that rule doesn't work for you." "Well, how old are you?"
    "Old enough." "Not fair."
    "Life's not always fair. Now, Pixie, tell me how old you are, or I will tickle you."
     
    "No you Aah! Okay! Okay! I'm eight! I'm eight! Uncle! Mercy! I give! Stop! " She screamed, struggling to get away from my fingers pushing gently into her sides, and stomach. But I held tightly to her, only stopping a few moments after she started begging.
     
    "Atta girl." I smiled. "Planning to doubt me again?" "Nuhuh."
    "I thought so."
     
    The two of us looked at each other. Just looked. Maybe our expressions were different, I didn't know. But she looked tired. And sad. Tired, and sad. So I pulled her up against my chest. Resting my head on top of hers. Hoping that I'd be able to get some sleep. Even just a couple minutes.
     
    "Why don't you take a nap?" "I wanna visit Louie."
    "Maybe he'll be there, in your head." "You think?"
    "Us humans have ways of visiting those we love." "Okay."
    I smiled when Pixie stopped squirming. When she quieted down, and, as sad as she might have been, relaxed. I was able to feel the tension melt from her frame. But then I found that I couldn't go to sleep. Something was bothering me, a lot. A question.
     
    "Who was Louie?"
    "Hmmm?"
     
    "Louie? Who, exactly, was he?"
     
    "My buddy. He" The little girl paused to yawn, and I felt rather guilty for waking her up. If, of course, that's what I'd done. "He was taking care of me." "How old was he?"
    "Nine."
     
    "Poor baby.." "What?"
    "Nothing, go to sleep, baby. I promise not to wake you up again." "Okay."
    There was silence for only a few more minutes, before Pixie started moving again. Squirming, and trying to crawl away. I didn't know why. I didn't know to where, but I let her go. If the girl wanted to go somewhere, I wasn't going to stop her. Taking care of an eight year old, during a zombie invasion, really wasn't how I'd planned to spend my time.
     
    "I'm going to Dustin." "You do that."
    "What's your name?" "Excel."
    "Funny name." "I know." "Goodnight." Naive little girl.
    "Goodnight, Pixie. Be sure to get some sleep."
     
    I crossed my arms, leaning my head back against the wall. Turning my face to the side. I uncrossed my arms, pulling my knees up to my chest. Leaning my face against them. Wrapping my arms around them. Letting go. Lifting my head. I couldn't get comfortable, I realized with the tiniest surge of frustration. I desperately wanted to sleep, but wasn't so sure that it was going to happen.
     
    I couldn't stop thinking about Louie. Whoever he was. Whatever he looked like. I wasn't so sure about anything that had to do with him other then he was nine, and one of Pixie's friends. And, apparently, Malachi killed him. How could the boy live with that? I wouldn't have been able to.
     
    Maybe death was preferable to whatever one would call turning into a zombie. Turning, I guess you could call it easy as that. But I wasn't so sure I would have been able to just kill the child. That's exactly what he was. A child. He hadn't started