{"sf1_id":8407,"sf2_id":"qmy0LREe","title":"Summer Vacation Of The Living Dead - book 2","author":"Alex Reynard","words":20215,"posted_at":"2005-12-15T18:15:00.000Z","tags":["Adventure","Bat","Cheetah","Coyote","Death","Mouse","Supernatural"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/8407-summer-vacation-of-the-living-dead-book-2","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/qmy0LREe","image_url":"https://www.sofurryfiles.com/std/thumb?page=8407\u0026ext=.jpg","description":"#2 of Summer Vacation Of The Living Dead","content":"Summer Vacation Of The Living Dead  \na gruesome little screwball comedy by Alex Reynard  \n  \n  \n-~\\*BOOK TWO\\*~-  \n  \n  \n  \n~\\*\\*\\*~  \n  \n  \n-CHAPTER SIXTEEN-  \n  \nEarly the next morning, as dawn was breaking, Old Simon Farrington was making his  \ndaily rounds. He was a porcupine, and he was pushing sixty-five. His walruslike  \nmustache was dishwater-grey. He had been working at the old town cemetery for  \nover four decades.  \n  \nEvery morning he got up at five A.M. And walked to work. It was only a mile, and  \nit was good exercise. He said hello to Tony at the desk, then he went out to  \nunlock the shed. Then he would climb into the driver's seat of his little green  \ngolf cart and make a complete circuit of the cemetery grounds. Over the years he  \nhad honed his route to an efficiency so sharp it could give you a paper cut, as  \nhe was fond of saying.  \n  \nThis particular morning, as he was passing by the Garden of Babes, he braked  \nbriefly. Near the grave of a young boy named Max Lopez.  \n  \nSomething seemed wrong about it.  \n  \nThe dirt seemed... disturbed. The boy's funeral had been quite a while ago, and  \nthis dirt looked freshly trampled.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Then the smell hit his nose. He recoiled in utter disgust.  \n  \nIt all became clear now. As such things sometimes happened, some drunk had gone  \nfor a stroll in here last night, fell down over the grave (slept on it, possibly)  \nand threw up in the grass before he left. A little parting present.  \n  \nOld Simon's fluffy grey eyebrows drew down in consternation. Shame on him. Shame  \non whatever heartless sinner would befoul a child's grave like that. He wished  \nthe man was still here, so he could run him over a few times in his golf cart.  \n  \nHe sighed. Not much you can do about puke outdoors. Indoors, you can use a mop,  \nas he had done more times than he cared to think about. Outside, you just had to  \nhope the wind would blow the smell off after a while.  \n  \nOld Simon scratched his backside for a moment, and then drove off.  \n  \n  \n~\\*\\*\\*~  \n  \n  \n-CHAPTER SEVENTEEN-  \n  \nThat Saturday night (which was technically Sunday morning by the time her head  \nfinally hit the pillow), the power of dreaming finally returned to Tish Lopez.  \n  \nShe was in a coffin, an extra-wide one, and Max was right there next to her. Not  \na zombie, but the same Max he'd always been. Neither of them were scared. The  \ncoffin was lined with a coral-pink plush interior and lit by a dim, cozy, unseen  \nlight source. They were smiling at each other, their noses nearly touching in the  \ntight space, like sharing the same sleeping bag. They were doing crossword  \npuzzles. Apparently they had been doing them for quite some time, since the lower  \nhalf of the coffin was almost completely full of them by now. Then the lid opened  \nabruptly. It was not the Grim Reaper, but only their fourth grade teacher. And  \nthey were not underground, but outside. As their teacher helped them both step  \nout of the coffin, Tish saw it was lying smack dab in the middle of the  \nplayground at recess. As soon as she and her brother exited, the coffin sprouted  \ntank treads and drove off cartoonishly. Tish and Max waved bye-bye as it  \nvamoosed, leaving flame trails behind it. The teacher led them inside, and there  \nthey saw that everyone in class was wearing plastic halloween masks of Nick  \nChainsaw. The real Nick looked a trifle embarrassed. It was his birthday, and he  \nhad brought too many cupcakes; they were piled in a heap in the corner of the  \nroom, literally up to the ceiling. The next thing Tish knew, she and Max and Mom  \n\u0026 Dad were all invited over to the Chainsaws' house for dinner. 'Dinner' turned  \nout to be a very large live octopus (who did not seem at all cooperative)  \nsprawled out in the middle of the table. But everyone else was laughing and  \nhaving a good time, trying to carve off hunks of tentacles as they writhed past.  \nThen Tish was watching a movie about boats and...  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; She blinked.  \n  \nSunlight on her muzzle. It was morning already.  \n  \nThe little coyote smiled an uncharacteristically bright smile and sat up in bed,  \nstretching and yawning. She'd only gotten about three hours' worth of sleep last  \nnight, but somehow she felt incredibly refreshed nonetheless. She thought about  \nher dream as she sat there in her pajamas. It hadn't made that much sense, but  \nthere had been an overall happy, carefree feeling to it. As if everything was  \ngonna be okay again. And, of course, just dreaming at ALL was cause for  \ncelebration. It struck her that maybe she was simply \\*unable\\* to dream unless Max  \nwas with her...  \n  \nActually, Max was not technically with her at the moment. Tish had decided on the  \nfly that it would be way too dangerous and risky to sneak Max back into the  \nhouse. At least for now. At least until they knew more about his present  \ncondition, and more about what Mom and Dad would think of it. Max had  \nwholeheartedly agreed. The last thing he wanted was to give Mom a heart attack  \nwhen she saw him, or have Dad fearfully come after him with a blunt instrument.  \nHe said he was fine with staying in the toolshed for the night, and they could  \ntalk more the following day. Tish felt sorry for him nonetheless. Out there in  \nthat drafty, dusty shed all alone... At least it had been a warm night.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Still, she wanted to be with him again right away. She was like a little pup on  \nChristmas morning; she knew there were presents downstairs, and she couldn't bear  \nto stay in bed a second longer.  \n  \nDown in the kitchen, Carlos and Martina were just sitting down to breakfast when  \nthey heard a loud thumping sound descending towards them, similar to a herd of  \nthundering elephants. Of course, it was only Tish bounding energetically down the  \nstairs. She ran up to the table, grabbed her plate and started bulldozing  \nridiculous amounts of breakfast foods onto it immediately. \"Good morning Mom!  \nGood morning, Dad!\" she sang out cheerfully.  \n  \nMartina's eyebrows went up. \"My goodness! You're looking chipper this morning.  \nGet a good night's sleep? I heard you snoring like a moose all night.\"  \n  \nTish chortled, realizing she may have put her tape player up too loud. \"Um, yeah!  \nAnd I had a really good dream, too!\" She dashed to the cupboard and selected the  \nbiggest tumbler in the house. Darting back to the table, she filled it almost to  \nthe top with orange juice.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Mom looked somewhat astonished. \"Um... Hungry?\"  \n  \n\"Yup!\" she said with a sunny grin. \"I'm gonna take all this stuff outside and eat  \nit since it's such a nice morning and I'm just so damn happy! Okay, bye!!\"  \n  \nAs the miniature tornado fled the scene with over half their food, the two grown-  \nups turned to each other with astonished and mildly concerned gazes.  \n  \n\"What in the world was that about?\" Martina asked her husband. \"She's been lost  \nin her own little world for a week, and all of a sudden she snaps out of it, just  \nlike that?\"  \n  \nCarlos shrugged. \"Kids are strange. They are like rubber bands in many ways.\"  \n  \nShe nodded, sighing. \"I guess. I wonder if this means she's finally getting over  \nMax...\" she said, sounding almost sad at the idea.  \n  \nThe broad-shouldered coyote shook his head firmly. \"No. She will never get over  \nhim, and neither will we. You shouldn't 'get over' the loss of someone you love  \nthat much. ...But maybe she has begun to realize her own life isn't over now  \ntoo.\"  \n  \nMartina smiled at him and took a sip of milk. \"My husband, the child  \npsychologist,\" she teased lightly.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; He grinned. \"Ah, yes. Beauty and brains all in one package. I am the perfect man,  \nand you shall worship me,\" he said, the zenith of suaveness.  \n  \nHis wife giggled out loud. \"Oooooh... I just might take you up on that later...\"  \n  \nMeanwhile, Tish was dashing across the lawn to the big stinky toolshed out back.  \nIt was very likely it had been created by the same furson who had designed the  \nhouse, since it shared the same characteristic bizarre dimensions, as if the  \narchitect had been either slightly crazy or burdened with poor depth perception.  \nIt was too big to be only a toolshed, and yet it was also obviously not meant as  \na garage either, since there was only the one small side door. There had already  \nbeen tons of rusty, useless gardening and farming equipment lying around in there  \nwhen they'd moved in. It was possible it had all been there since long before the  \nprevious owners. Dad kept his lawnmower in the shed and otherwise ignored it as  \nmuch as possible. Somehow, it managed to be even spookier than the attic in its  \nown lopsided way.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Balancing the juice glass between her forearm and chin, Tish carefully eased the  \ndoor open, unsure as to what she'd find inside. She really hoped she hadn't  \nscrewed up the spell somehow, like merely creating a temporary effect, and Max  \nwouldn't be lying in here dead again.  \n  \nHe was lying down allright, but from his snores he was very much still animate.  \nHe was flopped down in the bucket of an old green wheelbarrow in a position so  \nuncomfortable it made Tish cringe.  \n  \nA musty smell hit her nose as she entered; rust and rot and cobwebs. She padded  \nover and nudged her brother's shoulder with her foot. \"Max? Um, wakey-wakey...\"  \n  \nMax snored on.  \n  \nTish gave the wheelbarrow a short kick and that seemed to get the job done. The  \nbleary-eyed zombie boy came out of sleep with a long yawn and a cloud of  \nunspeakably disgusting morning breath. It could have peeled the paint off  \nbattleships. Tish politely gagged into her shirtsleeve.  \n  \nMax sniffed around and noticed there was breakfast nearby. He turned to his  \nsister with a smile. \"G'morning.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; \"Good morning, Max. Sorry you had to sleep in here. I wish we could've brought  \nyour coffin with us, but then the grave would have sunken in.\"  \n  \nMax shrugged unconcernedly. \"Eh. I'm sure it was nice and soft, but would you  \nreally wanna sleep in one all the time? Wouldn't it creep you out?\"  \n  \nShe considered that. \"Good point. Still, I have no idea how you managed to fall  \nasleep in that thing.\"  \n  \nMax glanced down at the wheelbarrow. He clumsily tipped himself out onto the  \nfloor and stood up. He stretched, producing a bone-clattering cacophony, as if  \nhalf his skeleton had come unglued during the night. Afterwards, he grinned  \nblithely and shook his tail, seemingly unaffected. \"It was pretty comfy actually.  \nBetter than the beds at Uncle Ernesto's house.\"  \n  \nHaving slept in them herself, Tish thought that was probably a fair estimate.  \n\"Your neck doesn't hurt or anything? It looked like it was bent straight back  \nwhen I came in.\"  \n  \nMax turned his head from side to side, making loud clicking sounds. He put his  \npaws to his cheeks and stretched his neck a bit. To Tish's horror and Max's  \ndelight, he found he could twist his head around almost 180 degrees now. \"Aw,  \nsweet! And it doesn't hurt a bit!\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; \"Good for you, I guess...\" she said with a wince. \"Hungry?\"  \n  \n\"Starving!\"  \n  \nShe held out the tray to him. He glanced over the selection, then took the glass  \nof OJ first, chugging from it with a satisfied sigh. \"I hope you don't mind  \nsharing the one glass,\" Tish said. \"I didn't want Mom 'n Dad getting overly  \nsuspicious. And I guess I'm not worried about zombie cooties.\"  \n  \nHe grinned. \"I'll try not to infect you.\" He looked thoughtful for a moment.  \n\"Geeze, I wonder if I even \\*can\\*?\"  \n  \n\"Bite me and find out,\" she teased.  \n  \nMax was about to answer back with a witty retort when he suddenly bent over and  \nviolently upchucked his orange juice onto the dusty concrete floor.  \n  \nTish squeaked in surprise. \"Shit!\"  \n  \nLooking woozy, Max wiped off his mouth on his shirt sleeve (he'd already  \ndispensed of the hot and sweaty formal jacket he'd been buried in). \"Uh...\"  \n  \nWhimpering sympathetically, Tish set her plate down on a workbench and gave Max a  \nhug. \"You okay now?\"  \n  \nHe nodded. \"That was weird. It was like, the second it hit my stomach, it came  \nright back up. I'm still hungry though.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; \"Maybe the juice was too much for you. Like when we both got the flu and we  \ncouldn't hold down anything but soup.\" She looked over at the plate. \"Here, try  \nsome toast. That oughtta be mild enough.\"  \n  \nHe accepted the little triangular slice. \"Thanks. Here goes,\" he said, and took a  \nbite.  \n  \nTish watched eagerly as he swallowed. They both waited nervously, and felt bitter  \ndisappointment when the toast came right back up too, totally undigested. Max  \ntried to catch it in his paw but instead it escaped to mingle with the orange  \njuice.  \n  \nTish's ears drooped sadly. \"Oh Max, I'm so sorry. I guess you'll just have to  \nwait until your stomach settles down.\"  \n  \n\"Yeah, you're probably right. You go ahead and eat though. Don't let me stop  \nyou.\" He looked around and spotted an old rag hanging on a nail. He bent down to  \nsop up the juice and toast, then threw the rag in the corner.  \n  \nTish sat down on a rickety wooden stool and sipped some juice (making sure to  \ndrink from the opposite side of the glass Max had; there was still a bit of  \nmucousy, lip-shaped residue there). She picked up a piece of bacon and was about  \nto bite down when she noticed Max staring at her. \"What?\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; \"Gimme that bacon,\" he said dully.  \n  \n\"Come on, if you couldn't keep \\*toast\\* down, there's no way- Hey!\" She jerked  \nback, a little scared, as Max rudely whipped out a paw and snatched the strip  \naway from her. He crammed it in his mouth like a pet dog. \"You don't have to act  \nlike a dickhead! And you're probly just gonna puke it back up again.\"  \n  \nBut to her surprise, he didn't. Max licked his lips contentedly. He blinked, and  \nseemed to be coming out of a daze. \"I- I'm sorry, Tish. I just smelled the meat  \nand went nuts. I think it's staying down though.\"  \n  \nTish arched an eyebrow and went 'hmmm'. \"Okay... You're a zombie, so maybe you  \ncan only eat meat.\"  \n  \nThat seemed to jibe with what his body was already telling him. His stomach was  \nhappily digesting the bacon, and wanted more. \"I think you're right.\"  \n  \n\"Let's try a little experiment.\" Tish scooped up a forkful of scrambled eggs.  \n\"Try some eggs. They're sort of like meat. They're an animal product, anyway.\"  \nShe held it out to him, and realized she was about to feed him like a baby. \"Here  \ncomes the airplane!\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; \"Nummy-nums!\" said Max, chuckling. He slurped down the little bit of eggs and  \nheld his belly in both paws, waiting to see what it would think of them. His  \nstomach seemed confused by the eggs for a second, then it grumbled a bit,  \ndebating whether or not to urk them back up. Then finally it said 'what the hell'  \nand let them stay. \"Cool! So, I can eat bacon and eggs. But not bread or fruit  \ntype stuff.\"  \n  \n\"No vegetables either,\" she reasoned, trying to look on the bright side.  \n  \nHe grinned. \"Yeah, good point!\"  \n  \nConversation wound down for the moment as the two siblings sat down to breakfast.  \nMax climbed back into the wheelbarrow and lounged in it like a beanbag chair.  \nTish split the eggs down the middle and let Max have all the bacon. She took the  \ntoast and juice, and said she'd bring him back some milk later on to see if he  \ncould drink that instead. Max commended her on her deductive thinking.  \n  \nMax polished off the last strip of bacon with a contented smile. That had really  \nhit the spot. His stomach was full of eggs and meat and was just about going  \nbananas with joy. This felt much, much better than being full of gas and  \nformaldehyde. \"So, when're we gonna tell Mom and Dad about me?\" he asked  \ncasually.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Tish froze up for a second. Her tail drooped. \"Um... I don't know. Maybe we  \nshouldn't. At all, I mean.\"  \n  \nMax sat straight up. \"Come on! I wanna see them again! And I'll bet a trillion  \ndollars they've been missing me all this time too!\"  \n  \n\"I know,\" Tish whined sadly, \"but think of how bad it could go! I'm totally cool  \nwith you being a zombie, but I know it'll be a shock for them. They might...\" She  \nsighed. \"Max, they might try to kill you the second you show yourself. I think we  \nshould just chill out for a few days, try to learn as much as we can about what  \nyou are now, then I'll try to ease them into it, if it's safe.\"  \n  \nMax looked a little suspicious. \"What do you mean, 'safe'...?\"  \n  \nTish bit her lip.  \n  \nLooking like his sister had just slapped him across the face, Max asked quietly,  \n\"Don't you trust me?\"  \n  \nHe'd asked so pitifully, Tish couldn't help hopping down off the stool into the  \nwheelbarrow to give him another hug. \"Of course, you dummy! Of course I trust  \n\\*you\\*! You're my brother and my best friend in the universe. You know I love you  \nmore than anything. I just... Well, I've never raised the dead before and I have  \nno idea if I did everything right. You might...\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; He finished for her. \"...I might change into something else without warning.  \nOkay, I understand now.\" He remembered seeing her pick up the bacon, and how,  \njust for a second, his mind had seemed to get blanker and focus solely on getting  \nthat little bit of meat in his mouth as soon as possible. It might be nothing at  \nall. But Tish was right; it was a good idea to keep him under observation for a  \nlittle while nonetheless.  \n  \nTish nuzzled his shoulder. \"I know you won't do anything bad, Max. I know you're  \nstronger than that. I know you love me 'n Mom 'n Dad and you won't hurt us. But  \nyou've seen just as many zombie movies as I have. We have to be careful. Just for  \na little while until we're sure.\"  \n  \n\"You're totally right. I'm sorry.\"  \n  \n\"Don't be sorry. Just think of it like you're sick and you're in the hospital and  \nthey need to make sure you're not contagious or something.\"  \n  \nMax nodded and gave her paw a gentle squeeze. \"That sounds about right.\" He  \nfrowned a little in frustration. \"But I really wanna tell \\*somebody\\* else... I  \nmean, I can't help thinking of all the people who must've gone to my funeral, all  \nmy friends, how sad they must've been, and they still think I'm dead. I don't  \nwant them to be sad over me anymore.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; His compassion had always impressed her. It came so much more naturally to him  \nthan it did for her, and she envied him sometimes because of it. \"I know. And a  \nlot of people did come. Most of the guys you sit with in class, I think, and Mr.  \nGoldwood and Mrs. Germaine.\"  \n  \nHe smiled. Mrs. Germaine had been their fourth grade teacher, and she'd narrowly  \nbeat out Mr. Goldwood for being Max's favorite. He liked knowing she had cared  \nabout him enough to come. \"There's gotta be someone we can tell,\" he persisted.  \n  \nTish felt awful, having to disappoint him like this. \"Max, think about it: if one  \nof your friends died, wouldn't you be a little freaked out if they just suddenly  \nshowed up at our house a few weeks later and wanted to go play hockey again like  \nnothing happened?\"  \n  \nShe had a point, and he hated it. \"Fuck. Dammit, I don't wanna have to spend the  \nwhole summer out here in this shed all by myself...\"  \n  \nTish opened her mouth to speak...  \n  \n\"Sorry! You know I didn't mean that. I know you'll be here too.\" He gave her paw  \na reassuring pat.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Tish took his paw in hers and gave it a squeeze. Max looked so sad, and she could  \nonly guess what he might be thinking right now. She felt suddenly ashamed of  \nherself. All this time, through all her planning to bring Max back from the dead,  \nand she had never once thought about how hard it might be for him. She should  \nhave anticipated this loneliness, and that his 'condition' would surely cause him  \nphysical problems. She felt incredibly selfish.  \n  \nAnd even worse, Nick was still probably worried about what-  \n  \nA lightbulb snapped on above her head. \"Nick!\" she shouted joyfully.  \n  \n\"Huh?\"  \n  \n\"We can tell Nick! I told him yesterday I was gonna do something really  \ndangerous, and that it had to do with you, and that I wanted him to tell Mom 'n  \nDad if anything bad happened to me. He'll be able to deal with you like this! I  \nknow he will! I'm gonna go call him right now!\"  \n  \nTish's idea brought smiles to both their faces. \"That's a great idea! How 'bout  \nyou ask him to come over sometime tomorrow, like noon-ish?\"  \n  \n\"Why wait till then?\" she asked, puzzled.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; \"I wanna try out my new body a bit. Go runnin' around, see if I fall apart, stuff  \nlike that,\" he replied.  \n  \n\"Ohhhh. Good thinking.\" Tish jumped nimbly up and out of the wheelbarrow. \"I'll  \ncall him and let him know everything's okay. I'll tell him there's a big surprise  \nwaiting for him tomorrow!\"  \n  \nMax nodded. \"And bring me some milk. And any other meat-things you can find! I'm  \nstill hungry!\"  \n  \nTish saluted. \"Aye-aye, dead guy!\" Max laughed as she snatched up the dishes and  \nwent tearing out of the toolshed.  \n  \n  \n~\\*\\*\\*~  \n  \n  \n-CHAPTER EIGHTEEN-  \n  \nA few hours later, Martina paused in confusion by her bedroom window. She could  \nhave sworn she'd seen someone running past in the backyard. And for a second, she  \nhad been absolutely certain it was Max.  \n  \nShe shook her head. Just an optical illusion. Had to be.  \n  \nShe set her mind back on the matter at hand. Looking down at her dresser drawers,  \nshe called out, \"Honey? Did you polish up some of my jewelry last night?\"  \n  \n  \n~\\*\\*\\*~  \n  \n  \n-CHAPTER NINETEEN-  \n  \nAfter running around for a while like a wild dog and thoroughly testing out his  \nnew-and-improved undead body, Max was hungry again.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Tish sat up in a tree in the vast yellow field of their backyard, watching her  \nbrother wistfully. She didn't feel quite so selfish now. Max had been running and  \njumping and yelling and laughing his tail off for an hour now. He looked really  \nhappy. And yeah, his condition would carry both pros and cons, and yeah, they'd  \nhave to keep him hidden until they came up with some way of breaking the news  \ngently to everyone, but those didn't seem like such awful problems anymore. Max  \nwas \\_alive\\_ again, and that was what really mattered most. As he'd told her when  \nshe came back from the house, he never, \\*ever\\* wanted her to think he wasn't  \ngrateful for the second chance at life she'd given him. He praised her bravery  \nand her brilliance, and hugged her so hard she thought she'd pop. It was just  \nwhat she'd needed. For a second there, it was like the past two weeks had never  \neven happened at all.  \n  \nShe'd brought with her a big glass of milk and two leftover fishcakes from the  \nhouse. Max had tentatively sipped the milk until he was sure his stomach wasn't  \nminding it being there, then drained the glass dry in less than a minute and  \nasked for more. He munched fishcakes while she trotted out for another glass. She  \nreturned with a tumbler of milk and a can of air freshener. He did kinda stink,  \nshe explained tactfully. He was not offended, and let her give him a good spray-  \ndown.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Then she asked him to take off his shirt and pants and hold still while she gave  \nhim a complete diagnostic. He felt a little silly, standing there in his  \nunderpants, arms held out stiff at his sides, while Tish carefully scanned his  \nwhole body for irregularities. She told him his cheek had been split and some of  \nhis bones looked broken last night, but now they seemed to be okay again.  \nHowever, some of his other body parts looked torn or lumpy now. And the milkiness  \nof his left eye hadn't gone away at all.  \n  \nHe tried to explain as best as he could what being a zombie felt like. He said  \nagain that he felt slightly less in control of himself now, like his soul was  \ninhabiting a second-rate body and it was a poor fit. He said it was like trying  \nto ride a bike he'd never been on before, or trying to walk in clothes that were  \nway too big for him.  \n  \nHe also described a truly bizarre sensation that he'd felt continuously ever  \nsince his rebirth. It wasn't obtrusive and, like his heartbeat (at least, back  \nwhen he'd HAD one), it was easy to ignore. But he said it felt kinda like his  \nbody was constantly breaking down, rotting, decomposing, yet at the same time it  \nwas also working tirelessly to keep him in one piece. Like townspeople scrambling  \nto repair a dam while floodwaters constantly battered it. He said he didn't think  \nhe was in any real danger of total decomposition, but that it might not be a such  \nbad idea for him to keep up a steady diet of as much protein as possible. He had  \na hunch that his whole digestive system had been altered, that its purpose now  \nwas to convert as much food as it could directly into building materials. His  \nchief evidence for this theory was that he hadn't felt a need to pee since  \nyesterday, not even a little bit, and he bet Tish he wouldn't be taking a dump  \nany time soon either.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Tish was impressed at his calm reasoning. All in all, he was taking this so  \nsmoothly it astounded her. Like resurrection was a perfectly normal everyday  \noccurrence. Max just shrugged and said he'd always had a feeling something like  \nthis would happen to him sooner or later. As he said, he'd always felt 'destined  \nfor weirdness'.  \n  \nAfter his physical and their biology chat, Max set about seeing how much his new  \nbody had changed on a practical level. Their backyard was enormous, stretched out  \nacross dozens of hilly, uneven acres that no developer would ever consider  \npurchasing. But it made a gnarly playground for two imaginative young coyotes.  \nMax ran free through the high golden grass. Somehow, subconsciously, his body  \nknew it had spent a hell of a long time cooped up in a tiny underground box, and  \nnow it was reveling in motion and exercise.  \n  \nAn hour or so later, panting gleefully, Max loped up to Tish's tree and gave her  \na full status report. He said all those zombie movies where the dead dudes just  \nshambled around like snails with their arms stuck out in front of them were pure  \nbullshit. He felt surreally limber and agile today, as if he could run for hours  \nwithout stopping. He didn't feel the least bit tired, and his muscles weren't  \nsore at all. In fact, he didn't even seem to feel any pain anymore.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Tish leaned over, curiously, as he gave her a demonstration. Grinning like a  \nmagician about to perform a fantastic trick, he put his paw flat up against the  \ntree trunk. With his other paw, he pulled out a nice smooth rock he'd found in  \nthe field. It was just about the size of a baseball. Without a moment's  \nhesitation, he smashed the rock into the back of his hand with all his strength.  \nTish shrieked and nearly toppled off her branch.  \n  \nMax gave her a nonchalant smile and told her to watch closely. He held up his  \nwounded paw. It looked like a crumpled bouquet of twigs. It oozed with nearly-  \nblack blood.  \n  \nThen slowly, the fingers started to move on their own. One by one, the bones all  \nknitted and the muscles repaired themselves. The blood was slurped back up  \ninside. With skin-crawling pops and squishes, his fingers all untwisted  \nthemselves. Max gave them a little wiggle when it was all done. His paw looked  \nperfect again. Just like new.  \n  \nTish gaped dumbly, torn between thinking that that was impossibly cool, and  \nwanting to go throw up somewhere. Finally, she hopped down from the tree and  \ncradled Max's rejuvenated paw in her own. She caressed the flesh. It felt  \nslightly strange, more loose and brittle than normal, but otherwise everything  \nwas where it should have been. She could not believe it hadn't hurt at least a  \nlittle bit to do that. Max assured her it hadn't, and cheerfully offered to  \nperform another demonstration on his other paw if she didn't believe him. She  \ndecided to believe him.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Around then was when his tummy started growling again. Tish checked her watch and  \nsaw that it was lunchtime. She was about to go back to the house and root through  \nthe fridge some more, when she suddenly got an even better idea. She told Max to  \nmeet her back at the toolshed in a few minutes.  \n  \nWhen he did, she was carrying an armload of loose clothing and grinning  \ndeviously.  \n  \n  \n~\\*\\*\\*~  \n  \n  \n-CHAPTER TWENTY-  \n  \n\"You're insane,\" said Max.  \n  \nTish giggled.  \n  \n\"This is never gonna work.\"  \n  \n\"Too bad, we're already almost there, ya big baby. Just keep quiet and no one  \nwill notice.\"  \n  \nMax rolled his eyes. He had a bad feeling about this.  \n  \nHe was currently wearing the biggest T-shirt he owned, a pair of winter gloves, a  \nblack jacket with the hood pulled way up over his face, and an incredibly baggy  \npair of his Dad's jeans that he'd been stepping on the ends of constantly.  \nFinally he snarled at Tish to wait up as he sat down on the sidewalk to roll up  \nthe hems. That was better, though now anyone who cared to look could also get a  \nbetter look at his big clunky snowboots.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; \"I feel like the biggest retard in the entire history of retardedness,\" he  \ngrumbled.  \n  \nTish giggled and reached out to hold his paw. \"It'll be okay, Max. I won't tell  \nyou you don't look stupid, but think of all the yummy, juicy meat you'll be  \neating when we get there! Dad was in a good mood when I asked for cash and he  \ngave me a twenty! You can get whatever you want!\"  \n  \nThat did cheer him up a little bit. Two bigass double cheeseburgers, loaded down  \nwith cheese and bacon, did sound almost erotically appealing right now. Max's  \nmouth was watering just thinking about it. He'd just have to remember to leave  \noff the buns and tell them to hold the sauce. And no french fries, unfortunately.  \nThough maybe he'd try one of Tish's. Heck, they cooked 'em in so much grease,  \nthey practically counted as meat.  \n  \nTheir destination was Dooley's, a small, statewide hamburger franchise that  \nadvertized 'The Biggest, Most Beautiful Burgers You Will Ever See In Your Life'.  \nTruth be told, they were usually about average in the looks and size department.  \nBut still, they tasted a hell of a lot better than the usual fast-food slop. The  \nextra few cents you spent at Dooley's were always well worth it.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; It was Max's favorite restaurant. He could eat there every day for eternity and  \nnever get sick of it. And as far as he was concerned, their barbecue sauce must  \nhave been concocted by angels on high.  \n  \nThe extra clothes he was wearing served two purposes. First and foremost, they  \nwould hopefully obscure his identity enough if someone they knew happened to spot  \nthem. At least from a distance. Probably. He even had his tail tucked down the  \nback of his pants.  \n  \nSecondly, Tish had hoped they might keep the smell in. She was rapidly getting  \nused to it herself, but there was no denying that Max \\_literally\\_ reeked of the  \ngrave. He smelled rotten, and no amount of air freshener would make it totally go  \naway. Although she'd emptied half the can on him by now already.  \n  \nWhen they eventually reached Dooley's, Tish could see through the glass doors  \nthat the place was packed. Good. They could try to lose themselves unobtrusively  \nin the crowd. \"Now try not to puke on or eat anybody,\" she chided playfully.  \n  \n\"Ha ha ha,\" said Max.  \n  \nThey both realized as soon as they entered that luck was with them today. They'd  \nforgotten that Dooley's was always, \\*always\\*, redolent with the dizzying,  \nmouthwatering aroma of fire-grilled dead cow. After a long meal at Dooley's, you  \nwent home smelling like the place. Guaranteed. No one was gonna notice a little  \ncarcass-stink in here.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Tish and Max quietly took their place in line. After a fat guy ahead of them had  \nfinished ordering a #3 combo with two chocolate milkshakes, Tish approached the  \nregister.  \n  \n\"Welcome to dooleys would you like to try our new mesquite chicken breast combo  \ntoday,\" the haggard-looking employee chanted mindlessly at them. He was a  \ncollege-age fox, and he looked like he was in dire need of some sleep. He was  \nalso wearing a lovely and fashionable little white paper hat.  \n  \nFeeling empathy for the poor bastard, Tish spoke slowly and clearly. \"Hello. I  \nwould like two double bacon cheeseburgers; hold the sauce, a large chicken  \nstrips, a medium fry, a medium cola and three little things of milk.\"  \n  \nThe employee rang everything up, casting an uncomfortable glance at Max as he did  \nso.  \n  \n\"He just got out of the hospital, where he spent a month recovering from a  \nhorrible skin infection,\" Tish said reproachfully. \"How'd you like being stared  \nat if over seventy percent of your fur had fallen out?\"  \n  \nThe employee looked utterly abashed. \"Oh, geeze, sorry! Really, I wasn't staring!  \nI was just thinkin' it's kinda hot to be wearing all that. My bad.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; \"S'allright,\" mumbled Max.  \n  \nThe coyote twins waited around for a few minutes for the food to show up. When it  \ndid, Tish's sense of misanthropy was dealt a small blow when she looked at the  \nreceipt and noticed the employee had 'forgotten' to charge for her drink. She  \ntossed him a thankful smile as she walked off to find a seat.  \n  \nWay in the back, next to the restrooms, there was a booth with nobody around.  \n'Perfect,' thought Tish. Max clumped along behind her (his boots sounding even  \nmore ridiculous than they looked) as she went over and sat down.  \n  \nMax whipped off his gloves in a heartbeat. \"Finally! The smell is driving me  \nnuts!\" He unwrapped one of the burgers and just gazed lovingly at it. \"Hello,  \ngorgeous...\"  \n  \nTish giggled and sipped her soda.  \n  \nTail wagging even though it was trapped between his leg and denim, Max tore the  \nbuns in half (keeping enough on the burger to hold it without getting his paws  \ngreasy) and took a huge bite. He murred orgasmically with his mouth full.  \n  \nTish had to put down her drink for fear of shooting cola out her nose. Max was  \neating his burger in the most obscene manner she had ever seen. He was making  \nlove to it. He was making really, really perverted noises too. \"We're trying to  \nkeep a low profile, remember?\" she said, giggling.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; \"Sorry. Can't. Meat too good,\" he grunted, and took another bite. He got a little  \nbit of bun in his mouth this time and nearly gagged, but was able to force it to  \nstay down. He supposed it might be possible to 'train' his stomach to accept  \nplant matter eventually, but for now it was being pretty stubborn. \"Hey,\" he  \nrealized as he polished off burger number one, \"I've turned into an anti-  \nvegetarian.\"  \n  \n\"Uh oh, I guess I have to protest you now,\" Tish quipped. She was, among other  \nthings, a champion of nonev-rights. Yet at the same time, she was also perfectly  \nhappy with eating them. Her position was that, being a coyote, eating meat was  \nnatural for her. She was a realist; more than half of all furry species on the  \nplanet were carnivorous or omnivorous, so meat-eating wasn't gonna go away any  \ntime soon. But just because she ate nonevs didn't mean she thought they didn't  \ndeserve to be treated as civilly as possible. Half of her birthday money every  \nyear went to a radical nonev-rights group that liberated fur farms, torched  \nunscrupulous medical testing labs and generally made life hell for anyone in  \ncongress who voted against bans of cruel killing or hunting practices. Tish was  \nmore of a believer in direct action than protests and pamphlets.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; \"Lemme try a french fry,\" Max asked.  \n  \nShe was wary. \"Okay, but have a napkin ready in case you yak again.\"  \n  \n\"Roger wilco,\" he said with a nod. Tentatively, he chewed and swallowed the  \nlittle potato sliver. All was silent for a second. Tish and Max both waited  \neagerly. The fry seemed to be staying down.  \n  \nBut... \"Aw, not agai-\" Max clenched his eyes shut and gagged as the mashed up wad  \nof fry shot straight out of his throat and missed the napkin by a mile.  \n  \n\"Ewwww! Son of a bitch!!\" Tish screeched. It had landed perilously close to her  \nchicken strips.  \n  \nMax wiped his mouth and then grinned at her. \"I'll gave you a buck if you eat  \nit.\"  \n  \nShe glared at him, grinning too. \"Fuck you and die, Max.\"  \n  \nA little old woodchuck lady in the booth opposite them (who was so short neither  \nof them had noticed her yet) gasped indignantly. \"You horrid children! Where on  \nearth did you learn such language, young lady?!\" she demanded.  \n  \nTish turned to her with an angelic smile. \"In church,\" she lied cheerfully. \"Our  \npastor drinks a lot before sermons.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Horrified, the woodchuck snatched up her tray and left to go sit somewhere else.  \nShe scowled with righteous fury at the two evil children as she passed.  \n  \nTish and Max burst into unrestrained guffaws.  \n  \n\"That was awesome,\" Max praised.  \n  \nTish smiled breezily. \"I like to think I elevate pissing people off to an art  \nform.\"  \n  \nMax snorted. He took a drink of milk and blew bubbles in it with his straw. \"So,  \nwhat're we doing after we get home? Like, dinner and sleeping and stuff? I really  \ndon't mind sleeping out in the toolshed again, if you're worried about that.\"  \n  \n\"Are you sure? It just seems so mean of me. I'm sleeping in my nice cozy bed, and  \nyou're in a wheelbarrow out in the yard like a pet dog or something.\"  \n  \nHe brushed her concern away. \"Tish, cool it. I don't mind. It's summer; it's warm  \nenough outside. And I told you I don't feel pain anymore. Watch this...\"  \n  \n\"Please don't.\"  \n  \nHe ignored her and scooted over to the side of the booth so she could see his  \nlegs. He got a firm grip on his ankle, then bent his right leg up in a circle,  \nbending it at a sickening 180 degree backwards angle. \"Neat, huh?\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; She stared, revolted, like passing by a bad bus accident on the highway. \"That is  \n\\*nasty\\*, Max. Don't do that again.\"  \n  \nNow that he knew it grossed her out, he'd be doing it every chance he got,  \nnaturally.  \n  \nTish actually thought it was severely cool. She'd acted like it grossed her out  \nso he'd keep on doing it all the time. Naturally.  \n  \nMax started in on his second burger after draining milk carton number one. Like  \nall good little anarchists, he'd opened the 'Open Other End' side out of sheer  \nmalevolence.  \n  \nTish nibbled a fry. \"As far as dinner goes, I can either sneak you leftovers  \nevery night when Mom 'n Dad aren't looking, or I can use some of my allowance to  \nget stuff delivered, or we can do a combination of both. Nick might be able to  \nhelp out too, once we tell him.\"  \n  \nMax nodded. \"Those are all good ideas.\" Although another had occurred to him that  \nhe wasn't about to say aloud. When she wasn't around, he might have to go out  \nback at night and hunt. He loathed the idea. The thought of taking another living  \nbeing's life was anathema to him. But he was, after all, a predatory species. And  \nhe could already tell that his undead metabolism was gonna need a lot more meat  \nthan just what a plateful of occasional leftovers would be able to provide. Maybe  \nhe could try eating bugs, he considered.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; He had another thought. \"Oh, hey, could you bring me some of my stuff out of my  \nroom? Like, books and video games and stuff?\"  \n  \n\"Sure! You can make a list when we get home.\" She puzzled for a moment on how to  \nget it all out of the house unobtrusively, then smiled. \"I could get a big  \ngarbage bag and fill it up with stuff. Trash day's tomorrow, so I could just act  \nlike I was taking it to the curb. Then I'd sneak around back and drop it off at  \nthe shed.\"  \n  \nHe was impressed by her cleverness. \"You would totally make a good undercover  \nagent, all this sneakin' around stuff you're coming up with.\"  \n  \n\"Why thank you! You want one of my chicken things? I'm still a little full from  \nthis morning.\"  \n  \n\"Thanks!\" Max eagerly took one and started peeling the breading off, figuring it  \nmight cause him problems. When he was done, he realized just how little chicken  \nwas actually in these things. He was left with a little white droopy thing that  \nlooked like a tampon. He ate it up anyway. No use wasting protein.  \n  \nTish picked at her fries while she watched Max finish up his other burger and  \nanother half-pint of milk. She drained her drink as well. She got up for a  \nrefill, and when she came back she noticed a familiar odor was becoming  \nnoticeable. \"Max, you're gettin' stinky again,\" she whispered.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; His cheeks flushed. \"Aw, shit.\"  \n  \n\"Pocket your last milk and let's split,\" she suggested. He nodded and obeyed. He  \nfollowed her up to the front, carrying their tray and their garbage.  \n  \nAs they passed by the easily-offended old woodchuck again, Tish got a wild smirk  \non her face. \"Say,\" she remarked loudly, \"what's long and hard and full of  \nseamen?\"  \n  \nThe woman just about choked on her cola.  \n  \n\"A submarine!\" Max replied with exaggerated enunciation. \"Do you know what word  \nstarts with 'F' and ends with 'uck'?\" he queried.  \n  \n\"Firetruck!!\" they said in harmony. They passed by their elderly nemesis,  \nsnickering shamelessly. She ranted threateningly at them as they got rid of their  \ntrash and left, but they were both laughing so hard they only caught snatches of  \nit. 'You kids!' and 'disgraceful!' and 'a good spanking!'.  \n  \n\"Maybe she'll be there next time,\" Tish said hopefully.  \n  \n  \n~\\*\\*\\*~  \n  \n  \n-CHAPTER TWENTY ONE-  \n  \nNearly two thousand miles away, a man who'd been taking a piss by the side of the  \nroad at dusk decided \\*not\\* to tell the police, or anyone else for that matter,  \nthat he could have sworn he'd seen a big, dark something-or-other the size of a  \nboxcar zoom right past him, at top speed, \\*through a corn field\\*...  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;  \n~\\*\\*\\*~  \n  \n  \n-CHAPTER TWENTY TWO-  \n  \nNick had a blindfold on, just in case.  \n  \nTish and Max hoped they were ready for anything, but this was an impossibly  \ntouchy situation. How exactly do you go about introducing someone to a walking  \ncorpse without them going berserk and pissing their pants and running away  \nscreaming? (Now \\*there\\* was a question you weren't likely to see popping up in  \n'Miss Manners'.)  \n  \nThe night before, Tish had successfully smuggled all of Max's requested  \npossessions out of the house and into the shed. He'd been especially happy to get  \nhis paws on his comic book collection, since he knew he'd be spending a lot of  \ntime over the next few months cooped up with nothing else to do but read. He'd  \nalso suggested that maybe Tish could get him some books from the local library.  \nShe instantly agreed, and pledged to do anything at all to make him comfortable  \nuntil they could figure out a better place for him to stay. Grinning, Max asked  \nif that included hourly foot massages. Tish playfully punched him in the head.  \nMax giggled.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; That night she dreamed again, but she did not remember what she had seen. She  \nchatted casually with Mom and Dad at breakfast, the epitome of guilelessness,  \nthen ran off to the shed. She and Max plotted and brainstormed and just generally  \nshot the shit all morning long. And they both agreed that, even though the  \nsituation was pretty darn fucked up, it was all worth it just to be able to sit  \nand talk with each other again. Max told Tish he wouldn't mind if he was just a  \ndisembodied head, so long as they could still be brother and sister. Tish was so  \ntouched by the sentiment, she actually cried a little. Though, of course, she  \nflatly denied having done so.  \n  \nThey both heard the scrape of Nick's bike braking in the driveway around eleven  \nthirty. They hadn't counted on him being early, but this wasn't like a surprise  \nparty with streamers and balloons and cake. This was just him and them. And  \nhopefully, luck would put in an appearance too.  \n  \nTish came running up from the side of the house. \"Nick!\" she greeted cheerfully  \nas the cheetah boy walked his bike over to the front porch. \"You're kinda early.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Nick looked up, a little worried. \"Is that okay? Am I gonna have to wait? You  \njust sounded so excited on the phone...\"  \n  \nShe trotted over to give him a small hug. \"Nah, it's okay. Everything's ready.  \nAnd it's gonna be one hell of a surprise, I promise you.\" She pulled one of her  \nlong black socks out of her pocket. \"I'm gonna put this on you like a blindfold,  \nokay? Just so the surprise will be perfect. Don't worry; it's clean.\"  \n  \n\"Um, allright...\" It would be an understatement to say that Nick was intrigued.  \nHe trembled slightly as she wrapped her sock around his head, her fur brushing  \nagainst his. Then blackness encompassed his vision. He could see a tiny bit of  \ndaylight around the edges of the sock, but that was all. He held his arms out in  \nfront of him. \"So, where is it?\"  \n  \nTish took his paws in hers. \"In the toolshed, remember? Come on, just follow me.  \nI'll go slow.\"  \n  \nNick's cheeks flushed as his best friend led him across her lawn. His nerves were  \non edge. The suspense had been killing him since yesterday, trying to imagine  \nwhat Tish's incredible secret could be. From the sheer volume of her voice the  \nday before, it was \\*huge\\*, whatever it was. And she was smiling more than he'd  \nseen her in months.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Abruptly, he had a revelation. What if she was taking him out to the toolshed to  \nmake out with him?  \n  \nNick stumbled and nearly tripped. His seeing-eye coyote steadied him and told him  \nhe was only a few feet away now.  \n  \nHis idea suddenly seemed very plausible indeed. He felt almost foolish for not  \nrealizing it before. The grinning, the giggling, the excited lilt to her voice...  \nShe was hot for his bod. Had to be. It was the only thing that made sense. And  \nworst of all, Nick had absolutely no idea what to think of the idea. Sure, he  \nloved Tish, but strictly as a best friend. He'd always thought she was pretty,  \nbut it had never even occurred to him to look at her \\*that\\* way.  \n  \nNow she was dragging him out to the shed to have her way with him. She was gonna  \nwhip off the blindfold and kiss him right on the mouth, he just knew it. Oh god,  \nif she put his hand up under her shirt, he'd pass out. He was sure of it.  \n  \nHe heard the toolshed door creak open.  \n  \nThe anxious young cheetah shivered and gulped. His mind was getting soupy. 'Okay,  \nhere it comes. I'll just back away real quick and tell her I don't think I'm  \nready for this kind of-  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; \"Nick?\" Tish spoke up.  \n  \n\"H-Wha?\" His head whipped around, trying to pinpoint her, trying to figure out  \nwhere to run. His nose wrinkled as he caught a whiff of something rotten. Why the  \nhell would she wanna come out \\_here\\_ to fool around anyway? It smelled like  \nsomething had died in here...  \n  \n\"Nick, are you ready?\" she asked, sounding uncertain. Her cheetah friend looked  \nlike he was on the verge of seriously freaking out.  \n  \n\"Uh, uh, uh... I guess,\" he stuttered, feeling hot sweat pour down his forehead.  \n  \nTish reached up to untie the blindfold.  \n  \nNick closed his eyes and puckered up.  \n  \nMax laughed. \"Geez, I didn't think you'd be \\*that\\* glad to see me!\"  \n  \nThe voice sent an electric shock straight through Nick Chainsaw to the concrete  \nfloor he was standing on. His brain did a somersault inside his skull. He did not  \ndare open his eyes. In a heartbeat, he'd gone from worrying about love to  \nworrying he was going insane. It couldn't be. He could not possibly have heard  \nthat voice. His eyes seemed to be glued shut. His heart jackhammered. He couldn't  \nmove.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; \"Nick!?\" Tish yelped, frightened for him. \"Please, it's okay! Everything's okay!\"  \n  \nSomehow, Nick opened his eyes.  \n  \nA corpse was standing there across the room from him. Max's dead body was  \nstanding there \\*looking\\* at him. \\*Smiling\\* at him.  \n  \nSo that's what that smell was.  \n  \nNick uttered a throaty burble and backed up faster than a cornered rat, trying to  \nreach the door and run as far away as fucking possible. Instead, he slammed up  \nagainst the side of the shed and the whole thing creaked and shook. The young  \ncheetah's eyes glistened with fear. His mouth was open and in his mind he was  \nscreaming, but his throat could not produce a single sound.  \n  \nMax's smile died. He and Tish had tried to think of all the possible outcomes of  \nthis meeting, and unfortunately they both knew that this one was probably the  \nmost likely. It was also the one Max had hoped to happen least of all. Nick had  \nbeen his best friend since forever. He didn't want that to change. He didn't want  \nhis best friend to fear him. 'I'm the same guy I always was, Nick. My body's just  \ndifferent now. Please, try to understand that...'  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Tish watched Nick's reaction. And then she watched Max's. And then she looked  \nback at Nick.  \n  \nAnd then she hauled off and belted the young cheetah across the mouth.  \n  \n\"Jesus Tapdancing Christ, Tish!!\" Max hollered. \"What the fuck was that for!?\"  \n  \nTish was already kneeling on the floor beside Nick. She put an arm around his  \nshoulders and turned his face towards her. Good; his lip wasn't bleeding. She  \nhadn't meant to hurt him, only to snap him out of it. \"Nick? Come on. I'm sorry.  \nSay something. Please, Nick?\"  \n  \nNick turned his eyes to her, looking like a bewildered goldfish. \"D-dead,\" he  \nhusked.  \n  \n\"Yeah. No shit, Sherlock.\"  \n  \nMind boggling from her indifferent response, Nick stared up into her face. She  \ncertainly didn't seem scared. In fact, she was giving him a severe 'don't be a  \nbaby' look. \"But... What the...\"  \n  \n\"Look at him, Nick. Look at Max right now. Do it!\" Tish took her friend's head in  \nher paws and firmly but gently forced it in the right direction.  \n  \nMax stood there, slouching, looking sheepish. He gave Nick a weak little wave.  \n\"Hi, bro...\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Nick blinked. The fuzziness started clearing off of his mind. His panic was  \nstarting to ebb. He was regaining the ability to think clearly again. \"Max?\"  \n  \nThe young coyote nodded. \"Uh huh. Sorry if I stink a bit. I've only been back  \nabove ground a couple days now.\"  \n  \nDespite himself, Nick laughed. More of a hiccup, really.  \n  \nTish helped the dazed feline to his feet. \"You're not gonna go all 'eek-a-zombie'  \non me again, are you?\" she asked carefully.  \n  \nHe shook his head. \"I g-guess not...\" And here he'd been thinking all this was  \nabout smooching! Damn his hormones!  \n  \nTish softly patted his cheek, smoothing out his fur with a pained look in her  \neyes. \"I'm really sorry I hit you, Nick. I just didn't want you to start  \nscreaming, or do something stupid. Mom and Dad have no idea he's out here. And  \nyes, he's the same old Max. Nothing's changed but his appearance. Just think of  \nit like he's got some kinda weird medical condition or something.\"  \n  \nNick weakly nodded. He looked over at Max, who was still smiling shyly at him.  \nThose eyes were not blank and mindless, not a stare of dumb monstrosity. Those  \neyes said, 'We used to be best friends, Nick. And that's how I want it to be  \nagain'.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; \"You're... You're really okay, Max?\"  \n  \nHe nodded. \"Mostly.\"  \n  \n\"And you're not gonna eat my brain, right?\"  \n  \nMax scoffed. \"Naw. It'd take me hours just to find it!\"  \n  \nFinally, Nick was convinced. He grinned. He'd seen a lot of movie zombies too,  \nbut never one with a sense of humor.  \n  \nTo Max, seeing Nick smile was just about the best feeling in the world at that  \nmoment. He put out his paw for a handshake.  \n  \nNick ran over, his fear forgotten, his joy at seeing his best friend alive again  \nfinally leaping to the front of his heart. The sadness was over. He didn't have  \nto miss him anymore. He didn't have to cry anymore. He slammed his paw into Max's  \nand gave a hearty pump.  \n  \nSomething went \\*crunch\\*.  \n  \nBoth Max and Nick looked stricken. They stared into each other's eyes for an  \neternal moment, knowing something had just gone very, very wrong, and neither one  \nwanted to be the first to realize it.  \n  \nTish solved the dilemma for them by shouting, \"Oh, GROSS!!!\"  \n  \nMax finally looked down, and just about lost his grip on reality. He felt  \nseasick. In his enthusiasm, Nick had shook his hand so hard it had snapped almost  \ncompletely off. It had split right along the wrist. Max could see bones hanging  \nout of one end amid the torn fringes of fur. A thin band of skin like a wet  \nnoodle was all that was keeping the two parts held together.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Nick looked down and immediately let go of the dead thing in his paw. He made a  \nchoking, gurgling noise. Eyes bulging, he clamped his paws over his mouth and  \ndesperately forced back vomit.  \n  \nUpon Nick letting go, gravity took hold of Max's right paw and finished the job.  \nThe dead appendage swung down and tore off easily, landing with a muffled clatter  \non the floor below.  \n  \n\"I'm gonna be sick!!\" Nick wailed, backing up rapidly.  \n  \nDespite wanting to burst out yowling at the top of his lungs, Max put forth an  \nextraordinary effort to keep his cool. Slowly, slowly, he bent down and picked up  \nhis paw. It felt like a dead pigeon. He held it up, side by side with his new  \nstump, and stared at them both. There was no pain, and that only made everything  \nseem more unreal.  \n  \n\"Oh crap, oh crap, oh Max I am so \\_sorry\\_!\" sputtered Nick. \"Please don't kill  \nme!\"  \n  \n\"Just cool down, man,\" Max said, his voice wavering like an echo, his mind  \nfloating a hundred miles away.  \n  \nStill partly stunned, Tish walked closer and stood by her brother. \"It doesn't  \nhurt, right?\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Max shook his head. \"Uh uh.\"  \n  \n\"Do you think you could, y'know, put it back on?\" she suggested.  \n  \nMax brightened slightly, feeling a bit of hope. That actually sounded quite  \npossible. \"Good idea, sis.\" He carefully placed both halves of his ripped wrist  \ntogether and pressed.  \n  \nBut when he loosened his fingers, the hand slipped out of his grip and went  \nskidding across the floor again. It was like trying to balance an egg on an  \napple. Whimpering, Max stared at his stump. \"This sucks...\"  \n  \nLooking heartbreakingly pitiful, Nick stepped closer. \"Max, I-\"  \n  \nMax put his remaining paw on his best friend's shoulder. \"Dude, don't worry. It's  \nnot your fault. No hard feelings. It probably woulda happened sooner or later  \nanyway.\"  \n  \nNick mewled. \"Still, your hand...\"  \n  \n\"I know,\" Max shrugged. He grinned. \"And that was the one I jerked off with too,  \ndarnit.\"  \n  \nFeeling a whirlpool of emotions, Nick reached out and hugged his best friend.  \n\"I'm still sorry,\" he said softly.  \n  \nMax patted him on the back. \"I'd rather have a friend like you than two hands  \nanyway.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Tish was about to tell Max what a sweet sentiment that was, when \\*something\\*  \nstarted happening to her brother's stump. Aghast, she shouted, \"Max! Look! What  \nIS that?!\"  \n  \nStartled, Max held up his wrist for all to see. He grimaced in confusion and  \ndisgust.  \n  \nSomething green was oozing out of his exposed flesh. This was nothing like blood,  \nnot even the sluggish black stuff that had come out of him the day before. This  \nstuff was like foam. A sick yellow-green, like contaminated snot. It smelled like  \ndecay.  \n  \n\"Pus!\" exclaimed Nick.  \n  \nBut Max didn't think it was pus. For one thing, it sure as hell wasn't acting  \nlike pus. This stuff was growing, pouring out of his wrist like whipped cream.  \nAnd as more of it hit the air, it started to solidify.  \n  \n\"What's happening, Max?\" Tish asked fearfully.  \n  \n\"I have no idea,\" Max stated truthfully. \"It doesn't hurt though. Just kinda  \ntingles. Like my shampoo.\" Then he noticed the ragged edges of his skin where his  \npaw had been torn from; they were starting to curl forward again and stick to the  \ngreen stuff. Max dared to hope he was seeing what he thought he was seeing.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; The foam was swelling, spreading out into a small, ovoid blob. The surface of the  \nmass was starting to thicken, like the skin of a balloon.  \n  \nTish gaped in wonder. \"Max, I think it's...\"  \n  \n\"Shh!\" He didn't want to jinx it.  \n  \nNick didn't say a word.  \n  \nThe smell got worse. Like rotten eggs and maggots. The blob on the end of Max's  \nwrist puffed up to the size of a baseball. Then it started to grow lumps. Five  \nlumps. The lumps grew and lengthened. The skin tightened and hardened, looking  \nnow like a half-inflated latex glove. Fur began to sprout near the bottom, then  \nit slowly spread upwards and around. Inside the mass, the foam started  \nsolidifying, growing dense and hard in some places, stretchy and strong in  \nothers. Its color changed from green to a pale red.  \n  \nMax was grinning like mad, in relief and amazement.  \n  \nWithin a minute, he had a brand new paw.  \n  \nHe gave the fingers a wiggle. They smarted a bit, and they were still tender. But  \nat least he could move them. The fur was getting thicker now, covering up all the  \npink flesh. The smell went away completely. And then it was like nothing had ever  \nhappened to it at all.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; \"That was sweet as hell!\" Nick finally burst out.  \n  \nBoth coyotes laughed with relief. Max gave Nick a macho hug. \"Dude! I totally  \nhave to thank you now! I never would've realized I could do that without you!\"  \n  \nTish was too amazed to say a thing. She'd been shocked silent, watching the green  \nmass pulse and ooze and shape itself into a new hand for her brother. She had  \nseen \\_nothing\\_ about this in Grandma's spell!  \n  \nMax gave his new paw another tentative flex, and this time everything felt  \nperfectly A-OK. He stared at his regrown appendage. As if just being alive again  \nwasn't enough, now he'd been a part of a second miracle!  \n  \nHe looked down at the floor and scanned around a bit before spotting his old paw.  \nHe picked it up. It was already starting to fester around the edges of the wound.  \n  \nTish stuck her tongue out. \"Eew. What're you gonna do with that now?\"  \n  \nMax merely looked at her, and she suddenly knew.  \n  \n\"You can't be serious,\" she said flatly.  \n  \n\"What, what?\" asked Nick. They were doing that telepathy thing that creeped him  \nout again.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Max shrugged in a 'what else am I supposed to do?' kind of way. Looking like he  \nwas readying himself to jump into a giant pile of manure, he squinched his eyes  \nshut and tipped his head back. He opened his mouth as wide as it would go. He  \nlifted up the amputated paw...  \n  \n\"Oh, \\_hell\\_ no,\" said Nick, unable to draw his gaze away.  \n  \n\\*GULP\\*  \n  \nMax looked more than a little queasy.  \n  \n\"How'd it taste?\" Tish kidded facetiously.  \n  \n\"Not very good,\" he understated. \"But hey, you're always talking about the  \nimportance of recycling, right?\"  \n  \nNick looked back and forth between the two of them. \"You know, I just realized  \nsomething...\"  \n  \n\"What?\" the coyotes asked in stereo.  \n  \n\"If it was anyone else but you guys, I'd think I was losing my mind right now,\"  \nhe deadpanned.  \n  \nLaughing, Tish gave him a noogie.  \n  \nMax grinned. Nick was their best friend again.  \n  \n  \n~\\*\\*\\*~  \n  \n  \n-CHAPTER TWENTY THREE-  \n  \nNick asked if he could stay for dinner that evening, and Martina agreed, though  \nnot without some small concern. He had the same look on his face now that Tish  \nhad. Effervescent, excited, much happier than normal. And they were holding a  \nsecret from her now, she was sure of it.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Nick and Tish had cleared their plates at lightning speed, then ran straight back  \nout to the toolshed again. And when she thought she wasn't being watched, Tish  \nhad snuck back inside to take all the leftover porkchops with her. Martina had  \nwatched her from the stairwell, her tail curled worriedly.  \n  \nNow she stood by the bedroom window, staring down at the soft glow emanating from  \nthe cracks in the walls of the old toolshed. Every now and then, the summer  \nbreeze brought with it a small snatch of wild laughter.  \n  \nShe heard soft footfalls behind her. \"Carlos...\"  \n  \nHe came up behind her and put his paws upon her shoulders, beginning to massage  \nthem. He murred questioningly; 'penny for your thoughts.'  \n  \n\"I'm worried about Tish.\"  \n  \nCarlos nodded solemnly. \"And why is that, my love?\" Knowing, but asking anyway,  \nso she would be able to release her hidden fears to him.  \n  \n\"She's been out in that shed constantly. Ever since Sunday morning. I don't think  \nshe's been in the house more than fifteen minutes since then. She's hiding  \nsomething from me. I know she looks happy and I know it shouldn't bother me, but  \nit does. I'm her mother. I always felt like Tish and I could talk about anything  \ntogether. I guess...\" She sighed, worried she would sound selfish. \"I guess I'm  \nworried that one day she'll become one of those teenagers who acts like it's  \ntorture to acknowledge her parents' existence.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; The big paws kneaded slowly, pressing deeply but softly into her tense flesh.  \n\"Whatever she's hiding, I think she will tell us eventually. Soon,\" he stated  \nsoftly.  \n  \n\"How can you be so sure?\"  \n  \n\"I'm not,\" he replied straightaway. \"But call it a guess. Whatever her secret is,  \nit's a happy one, but it's also one she thinks we won't approve of. Maybe she  \nthinks we won't understand, that we'll try to take it away from her, whatever it  \nis. But eventually she will come to us and tell us. I want to believe she has  \nfaith in us. That she'll know her happiness is important enough that we won't  \nmind bending a rule or two for her.\"  \n  \nMartina leaned back against him silently. Just feeling their bodies press lightly  \ntogether, hearing their clothes rustle. She reached up to run her paws up and  \ndown his strong arms. \"You don't think she and Nick are making out in there, do  \nyou?\" She knew that wasn't the case anyway, she only wanted to get the question  \nout in the open. To ask it, so they could discard it.  \n  \nCarlos shook his head immediately. \"No. Not yet at least,\" he added with a smile.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; She smiled too. Someday, she thought, Tish and Nick were destined for couplehood.  \nAnd she had always imagined Max would be the best man at their wedding...  \n  \n\"You want to know what I think?\" Carlos asked.  \n  \nShe angled her head up to nuzzle his throat. \"What?\"  \n  \n\"I think there's something living out there. You've noticed her talking leftovers  \nout there, haven't you?\" She nodded. \"I think she discovered an animal hiding in  \nthere and has made it her pet. A rabbit, perhaps. Maybe even a nonev coyote.  \nWouldn't that be poetic?\"  \n  \nMartina 'hmm'ed. The theory did seem to fit the facts.  \n  \n\"With Max gone, she needs an outlet for all the love she used to share with him,\"  \nCarlos said, his voice cracking slightly. \"Hopefully, she has found someone to  \ntake care of and hold and talk to. Like her dolls when she was little. And yet  \nshe worries we won't understand. That whatever it is, we'll drive it off. But I  \nthink there are a thousand and one worse ways of expressing grief. She has not  \nturned to destruction, but compassion. I'm proud of her.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; His voice had begun to waver badly, and she could hear tears in it. Her rock, her  \nmountain, was quietly cracking. He had always been stoic. It came naturally to  \nhim, and she loved it dearly about him. He was mysterious and wise and alluring,  \nbut never without emotion. And now, it was simply time to put aside that persona  \nfor a while. To break down. To let it flow. And she loved that about him too.  \n  \nTurning around, she looked deep into her husband's golden eyes. \"I miss our son.\"  \n  \nHe clutched her softly to his broad chest, lying his muzzle across her shoulder,  \nhis face in her hair. \"Me too, my love. I would do anything to hold him in my  \narms once more.\"  \n  \nAnd since they could not, they held one another. And together, they cried.  \n  \n  \n~\\*\\*\\*~  \n  \n  \n-CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR-  \n  \nFor Tish, Max and Nick, the next few days passed uneventfully. Mostly.  \n  \nNick came over and spent time in the toolshed as often as possible. Whenever he  \ncould, he also brought over protein-rich leftovers from his house. He knew for  \ncertain Max loved his mom's beef stroganoff, so he made a special effort to get  \nhold of a bunch of it. When he delivered it out to the shed, he watched with a  \ngrin as Max devoured the entire pan the second after he'd gotten a good whiff of  \nit. Max had thanked him extensively, and told him to pass on some of that  \ngratitude to his parents too. Nick promised he would.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; For Tish, it was becoming increasingly difficult to hide her toolshed excursions  \nand meat-snatching from her parents. They seemed to have at least figured out  \nthat \\*something\\* was going on out there. They gave her knowing looks at dinner  \nand asked her subtly loaded questions, trying to trip her up. But their  \ninterrogation efforts were unusually mild, and Tish eventually came to realize  \nthat they trusted her to tell them her secret when she was ready. That made her  \nboth happy and sad. Happy that her parents had such faith in her, but sad that  \nshe'd probably \\*never\\* be ready to tell them. She knew she was being chicken. She  \nknew she should just be brave and introduce them to Max and deal with the  \nconsequences. But something forced her back every time she tried. Partly it was  \nknowing she could get in \\_serious\\_ trouble for this, but mostly it was worry for  \nMax. If they couldn't accept him as he was now, it would break his heart. Sure,  \nthey'd had success with Nick, but Nick was just a kid like them. Kids are just  \nnaturally more able to accept impossible stuff. Grownups are different. They live  \nexclusively in reality and are uncomfortable when the weird and unexplainable  \ncome knocking on their door. The reality was, Tish knew, that she'd procrastinate  \nand procrastinate until eventually one of them would discover Max on their own  \nsomeday. The outcome would probably be even worse then, but she had no idea what  \nin the world she \\*could\\* say to break it to them gently. She watched her mother  \nand father grieve the loss of their son, and yet he was only a hundred feet away,  \nmissing them too. Tish knew something had to happen soon, and she only hoped it  \nwouldn't end in chaos.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; For Max, the novelty of being a zombie had quickly melted away under the sheer  \nweight of the boredom of his new life. When Tish and Nick came around, they had a  \nblast. They talked about all sortsa stuff, read comics together, played games,  \nand mostly they reminisced about old times, back when all three of them were  \nstill alive. It was like they were rediscovering their friendship and what made  \nit work, and Max liked that. By looking to the past and reliving some of their  \nhappiest moments, they were strengthening their friendship now. Like cementing up  \nthe cracks in a long-standing foundation to keep it strong forever.  \n  \nBut when they were gone, Max was bored out of his skull. He read voraciously,  \nsince there was really nothing else to do in the daytime when Mom or Dad might  \nspot him running around in the backyard (a fact he'd become belatedly aware of  \nsince last Sunday). He ended up polishing off three paperbacks he'd started but  \nnever finished, and reading four more cover-to-cover in single sittings. So, to  \nsome extent, he was somewhat grateful for all the spare time. Whenever he found  \nhimself grumbling about how bored he was, he reminded himself of how great it  \nfelt to come to the last page of a good book. And then he would start to read  \nagain.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; But when night fell and Tish went off to bed, Max's day had just begun.  \n  \nIt was something he had decided firmly not to tell Tish about. She'd only worry  \nabout him and try to help him. He loved her for that, but she also kinda had a  \nthing where she just HAD to solve every problem put in front of her or she'd get  \npissed off. This was something he had to do on his own. This was a part of who he  \nwas now, and it was private.  \n  \nWhen darkness fell and covered their town, Max came out to hunt. He truly  \nappreciated Tish and Nick's effort to keep him fed on leftovers, but he just  \ncouldn't bring himself to tell them that it wasn't anywhere near enough. His body  \nwas rotting worse than either of them realized, and it was happening at a faster  \nrate every day. On Thursday, he tripped over the stool in the shed and his left  \nfoot had snapped right off. This time, luckily, he was able to force it back on,  \nthough it seemed a little wobbly for a few hours afterwards. His tail had fallen  \noff twice already. His green eye kept rolling out unexpectedly. And he'd probably  \nlost all of his fingers and toes at least once each. (There seemed to be no logic  \nto whether something could be reattached or whether it would have to be regrown.  \nThe outcome was about fifty-fifty either way)  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; He'd even found a way to turn his collapsibility into a game. Once, he'd asked  \nTish to pull his finger. She had done so, grudgingly, expecting a fart, and  \ninstead it had come right off in her paw. She went 'eeeew' and threw it at him  \nwhile he fell over in the wheelbarrow laughing.  \n  \nThe simple fact was, he was dead, and dead things rot. He was rotting away just  \nlike any other piece of meat left out in the sun too long, and the only way to  \nslow the process was to eat more meat. Lots and lots of it. Tons of it. Every  \nnight, Max snuck out and canvassed the town. His sense of smell had always been  \npretty impressive, what with being a canine and all, but now it had developed  \ninto something downright supernatural. He could smell a porkchop in a trash can  \nfrom more than a mile away. The tiniest trace of blood, he could ferret out and  \nlap at eagerly.  \n  \nHe sought out dead things. He crammed deceased insects into his mouth by the  \nhandfuls, avoiding eating live ones unless absolutely necessary. Not because he  \nthought it was gross (which it was), but because he truly hated the thought of  \nkilling any living thing, no matter how small.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; The first time he had encountered roadkill, he had gulped and knew he would not  \nbe able to resist it. It was a dead cat. Somebody's pet. Poor Fluffy would never  \nreceive a decent burial because he was destined to end up in Max's tummy. The  \nreluctant little zombie had stood there by the side of the road, kneeling by the  \ndead cat for almost fifteen minutes. Just thinking about what this poor animal's  \nlife might have been like. Who had cared for him? Who had loved him? Who would  \nmiss him?  \n  \nThe bugs crawling on the cat's carcass produced the only sound it gave in reply.  \n  \nA car came charging up the road and Max ducked swiftly out of sight behind a  \nbush, wondering what the hell was so important that that asshole had been going  \nso fast at three fifteen in the morning.  \n  \nHe came back out of hiding and faced the cat again. He knew he could never do  \nthis if he thought about it too much, so he simply closed his eyes, took a deep  \nbreath, and let the scent of flesh and blood fill his nostrils.  \n  \nAnd suddenly he found himself crouched on the road, cramming the dead cat into  \nhis mouth as if it were struggling to get away. He barely bothered to chew. His  \nhunger had taken over completely, leaving his brain with only the barest primal  \ninstructions. The taste of fur and meat and filth and decay filled Max's mouth,  \nand he loved it.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Afterwards, he patted his stomach and was almost ashamed of how satisfied he  \nfelt.  \n  \nHe went off in search of more.  \n  \nFrom then on, Max prowled the highways and byways. Sure, supermarket dumpsters  \nand regular trash bags often contained lots of nummy bloody treats, but the  \ncity's roads were like one colossal outdoor buffet, all laid out just for him,  \nfree of charge. The weather was hot every day and it was a virtual dead critter  \nbonanza. Max scarfed squirrels, chewed up chipmunks, ate rabbits and raccoons  \nravenously, fed on foxes and put away plenty of 'possums. He even found a mostly  \npicked-over but still edible deer carcass once.  \n  \nThe highway department started wondering who in the hell was doing their job for  \nthem. And \\*why\\*!?  \n  \nMax's most difficult meal came to him Friday night when he discovered the corpse  \nof a nonev coyote on a stretch of interstate. She lay there pitifully; her body  \nsmeared almost to unrecognizability, but her face was still unmarred. She looked  \nup to him silently with her puffy black eyes. Max was in tears. He knew he had to  \neat her. He knew if he didn't, he'd rot away to nothing. But still, he cried.  \nThis was his ancestor, his spiritual link to the eras of the past, before his  \nkind walked on two legs. He knelt beside her and made his mind a blank. Twenty  \nminutes later, the other coyote was completely gone, and Max was running back  \nhome in tears.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; He thanked her as he ran, as he had thanked all of the dead animals that had  \nprovided him with nourishment. Every time he had fed, he'd said a small prayer  \nfor his meals. He begged their forgiveness for disturbing their rest. He wished  \nthem happiness in heaven, and pledged to do something nice for them in return if  \nthey ever met in the afterlife someday. It might have been just a bunch of  \nnothing, but it did make him feel a little bit better.  \n  \nSaturday morning, just as dawn was breaking, Max stopped to devour a squirrel  \nhe'd seen laying in the gutter a few blocks from his house. It was fairly fresh,  \ndevoid of maggots, and tasted pretty good, considering.  \n  \nWhen the small corpse was almost halfway gone, the legs dangling comically out of  \nhis mouth, Max glanced up and saw he was being watched. A little girl, a vixen,  \nno more than six years old, was giving him a reproachful glare from the seat of  \nher Big Wheel across the street.  \n  \n\"You're gross,\" she said austerely.  \n  \nMax shrugged. 'I don't really have much of a choice,' he replied with his  \nexpression.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; The vixen regarded him a few moments more, seeming to decide that this shambling  \nmockery of life was more pitiful than dangerous, and rode off without saying  \nanother word.  \n  \n~\\*\\*\\*~  \n  \n  \n-CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE-  \n  \nSaturday was grocery day. Tish waved to her dad as she hopped up into the car  \nbeside Mom. Mom reminded her to buckle up, and Tish did so. She wasn't exactly  \nsure how she could convince her mother to buy all the jerky and pork rinds and  \nother stuff Max wanted, but she knew she'd find a way. Max was depending on her  \nafter all.  \n  \nShe and Mom had been going shopping together on Saturday mornings like this for  \nas long as Tish could remember. It was a time-honored ritual. It was like the  \nkickoff festivities for the start of the weekend. Every now and then, Tish would  \nglance at the little plastic seat and the square legholes on their cart and  \nthink, 'Was I ever really small enough to fit in that thing?'  \n  \nThey had a system. As soon as they were through the doors, Mom went for produce  \nwhile Tish ran and got the hotdogs and lunchmeat. Today, she grabbed an extra few  \npackages of the hard salami Max liked. She thought maybe she could tell Mom she'd  \nbeen having weird food cravings, and say it was part of her natural grieving  \nprocess. Yeah, that might fly. Who could say no to a grieving kid? Mom gave her a  \nslight curious look when she came back, but said nothing about it.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; The food safari progressed as normally as could be expected. Mom got that frozen  \nvegetable blend Tish secretly detested. Bread was buy one get one free. And to  \nTish's surprise, beef jerky was on sale too. So she tossed four packages in the  \ncart when Mom wasn't looking.  \n  \nAbruptly, Tish found herself thinking about her father. He was sitting home all  \nby himself right now, and that made her a little sad. Usually, Mom and Tish went  \nto the supermarket and Max stayed home with Dad. They did something together  \nevery Saturday, but Max would never tell what it was. 'Secret Man stuff,' he'd  \nsaid. That probably just meant they watched TV or burped or something. But  \nwhatever it was, they always seemed happy when they came out later to help the  \ngirls take the bags inside. They smiled at each other a lot, the same way she and  \nMom smiled at each other on the way home from the store. Sometimes, even doing  \nlittle things, it's nice to spend time with someone you love.  \n  \nBut now Dad was sitting home all alone.  \n  \nTish's head was full of thoughts and she wasn't really in the supermarket  \nanymore. Her eyes registered the aisles and displays, but they were just dreams  \nto her.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Then suddenly, like a splash of hot coffee in her face, Tish found herself face  \nto face with Eddie Schwartzman again.  \n  \nHe grinned.  \n  \nTish gulped. \"Oh! Um, hey...\" Shit! This was the second time he'd interrupted one  \nof her thoughtful moments. What a jerk!  \n  \n\"Hi Tish,\" he said pleasantly. Or at least as pleasantly as he could. His smile  \nwas as slimy as dead fish.  \n  \nEddie's mom was just up ahead, comparing antibacterial sprays. Mrs. Lopez came  \naround the corner just then and the two women instantly eyed each other like  \ncats. They stiffened and bristled, their mouths drawing in to fierce lines.  \n  \nThe Lopezes and Schwartzmans only occasionally crossed paths at the supermarket.  \nThey each knew each other's usual shopping days, and tried to avoid them if they  \ncould. The tension in the air as they passed was thick as cream cheese. Some  \ncustomers in nearby aisles actually shivered, as if a freezing wind had tapped  \nthem on the shoulder.  \n  \nJust as the cubs were too busy staring down each other to notice the adults, the  \nadults barely noticed the kids either.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Martina pushed her cart slowly, guardedly forward. She kept her eyes on Mrs.  \nSchwartzman the entire time. The immaculately coiffed white mouse was dressed  \ntoday in a rich burgundy blouse and skirt combo that would have taken Martina  \nweeks to save up for. In contrast, Martina herself was in jeans and one of  \nCarlos' plaid shirts.  \n  \nThe womens' eyes were locked onto each other like laser beams. Neither of them  \nsaid a word. They didn't need to. Their hate for each other was well-established.  \nThere was no need to make a big, uncivilized scene right here in public.  \n  \nWordlessly, Mrs. Schwartzman said, 'You're nothing but garbage, Martina, and your  \ndaughter is too'.  \n  \nWordlessly, Mrs. Lopez replied, 'All the money in the world couldn't give you a  \nheart and soul, Naomi'.  \n  \nThe children, however, had much to say.  \n  \nEddie smiled. He'd caught Tish off guard and was happy about that. He spoke to  \nher low and soft and congenially. What he said was, \"You're gonna keep out of my  \nsight, bitch.\"  \n  \nTish forced down the urge to slam him to the ground and stomp on his crotch.  \nRepeatedly.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Eddie continued, still keeping his tone quiet and friendly. Anyone passing close  \nby would have thought they were having a nice little chat. \"I'm gonna have a real  \nnice summer vacation, and I don't wanna see you at any point during it. Okay? If  \nyou see me, walk the other way. I don't care what you're doing, you just get the  \nfuck away from me. Instantly. You got that?\"  \n  \nTish glared at him with such utter hate and contempt that a lesser soul might  \nhave evacuated in their drawers. \"And why, exactly, do I have to do anything you  \ntell me to?\"  \n  \nThe fat little mouse's grin got bigger. \"Because, Tish,\" he said, as if calmly  \nexplaining something to a retarded person, \"you hit me last time. You humiliated  \nme, and I didn't like that. My dad didn't like it either. And he especially  \ndidn't like you getting off so easy. If he was the principal, you wouldn't have  \njust gotten expelled; your filthy, scrawny ass would've wound up in jail where  \nyou belong.\"  \n  \n\"Yeah?\" Tish said, feigning yawning, as if he was no more intimidating than an  \nant. \"Good thing he isn't then.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Eddie nodded. \"That's right. But he does have more money than your whole family  \nwill ever see in your lives. And if you come near me again, he'll sue you,\" he  \nsaid smugly.  \n  \n\"Bullshit,\" Tish shot back instantly.  \n  \nEddie shook his head. \"Wrong. He can do it. And he will, the second I give the  \nword. He'll sue your dad for not keeping his rabid bitch daughter on a leash.  \nI'll say you're dangerous, that you tried to do all sorts of nasty shit to me.  \nI'll lie my ass off. And you know what? Everyone will believe me, and no one will  \nbelieve you. You're fucked, Tish. If you had any balls, I'd have them in the palm  \nof my hand right now.\"  \n  \nTish smirked mellowly. \"Oh, I'm sure you know \\*lots\\* about having guys' balls in  \nyour hands, Eddie. Probably in your mouth, too.\"  \n  \nEddie flinched, his greasy smile turning into an even uglier scowl, but only for  \na second. Then that disgusting, hideous grin was back, and Tish wanted to punch  \nall his teeth down his throat just so she wouldn't have to look at it anymore.  \n\"Shut your mouth, you dumb cunt,\" he said sweetly.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; \"You like talking like a grownup, huh?\" Tish asked nonchalantly. \"You overhear  \nyour dad call your mom that?\"  \n  \nEddie narrowed his eyes. \"I mean it. You shut your mouth and you stay the hell  \naway from me. My dad will take away everything you have. He'll take your money,  \nyour car, your house, everything. Your whole fucking family's gonna end up living  \non the streets. You'll be eating out of dumpsters and sleeping on cardboard. Like  \nvermin. And you'll probably all get sick or die of starvation. And hey, then you  \ncan all have a happy ending, burning in Hell forever with your stupid dead  \nbrother.\"  \n  \nSomething in Tish rattled, like a cog bursting free of a grinding machine. 'Don't  \nyou dare, you piece of shit. Don't you dare talk about Max like that.'  \n  \nEddie laughed. \"I mean, really, how fucking dumb do you have to be to get hit by  \na train anyways? What, did he not understand the concept of 'taking one step  \nsideways'?\"  \n  \nTish's fist twitched. It so badly wanted to lash out and hit Eddie and just keep  \non hitting him until he could never say another word ever again. Just pulverize  \nthat mouth of his to a bloody pulp. But that would not only be suicide, it would  \nbe doing exactly what the fat little bastard wanted.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Taking deep breaths and never taking her eyes off of him, Tish backed up slowly.  \nShe wanted to say something glib, something witty. Something that would trump all  \nhis bullshit. But instead, all that came out was a whimpered, \"Why the hell  \naren't you ashamed of yourself?\"  \n  \nFor just a second, Eddie's false cheerfulness dropped, and he let her see his  \nreal face. The face of a kid who tears the legs off bugs for yuks. The face of a  \nkid who picks on smaller, weaker children because nothing in the world makes him  \nhappier than seeing their terrified expressions. The face of a kid who relishes  \nthe power than can be gained from obliterating all traces of mercy and compassion  \nand generosity from one's heart. The face of a kid who will, in high school, seek  \nout anyone the slightest bit different from societal norms and beat the shit out  \nof them with several large, cruel friends for being a 'faggot'. Who, in college,  \nwill rape a classmate, or two, or three, and then use his money to keep them all  \nquiet. Who, as an adult, will take great glee in climbing the corporate ladder,  \nputting himself as high as possible over a vast network of employees, and then  \nsystematically and sadistically causing them all as much misery as possible, just  \nlike shaking up an ant farm. The face of a furson to whom money, power and sex  \nmean nothing in comparison to the joyous ability to cause suffering.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; \"Because I have no reason to be,\" he replied calmly.  \n  \nTish finally realized just how scared of him she truly was. And that he  \nabsolutely meant it about destroying her life, and the lives of her parents. He  \nsaw it all as just a big game. She had tipped him too far, and now she had to pay  \nfor it.  \n  \nHurriedly, she darted out of the aisle and ran to her mother.  \n  \n  \n~\\*\\*\\*~  \n  \n  \n-CHAPTER TWENTY SIX-  \n  \nMax nearly tossed his comic book across the room as the shed door exploded open  \nand Tish stomped in, angrier than he had ever seen her before. And that was  \nreally saying something.  \n  \nTish pointed right at him. \"Dead boy, it's time for you to earn your keep.\"  \n  \n\"Th' fuck?\" he asked, puzzled and frightened.  \n  \nShe smiled thinly, cruelly, madly. Her smile let him know he was not the target  \nof her anger, but for whom it was there would be no escaping her wrath. \"Max, it  \nis time for us to get \\_revenge\\_.\"  \n  \nAnd Max suddenly knew exactly who, and how, and why. Just like sometimes he  \nalways 'just knew' things his sister wanted him to know, and she 'just knew'  \nthings about him too.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; He grinned. \"When?\"  \n  \nShe growled. \"Tonight.\"  \n  \n  \n~\\*\\*\\*~  \n  \n  \n-CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN-  \n  \nNick had come over that afternoon and had been informed of the twins' plan. While  \nhe was initially enthusiastic about it, especially considering who the target  \nwas, the details of it made him increasingly uneasy the more he heard about them.  \nThey could go to prison for this, he'd said.  \n  \nTish gave him a look like he was the biggest pussy on earth. \"What's more  \nimportant; not taking risks, or vanquishing the forces of evil?\"  \n  \nSo now he found himself up a tree in the Schwartzman's backyard with binoculars  \nplanted in front of his face. The moon was high and to his right. He'd lied to  \nhis mom about sleeping over at the Lopez's house and he was up way past his  \nbedtime already. He felt like a criminal.  \n  \n\"I feel like a criminal,\" he said into his walkie-talkie.  \n  \n\"Don't feel like a criminal, feel like a commando,\" Tish ordered sternly through  \nthe static. Somehow, she had adopted this weird military general persona that,  \nfrankly, gave him the creeps. \"What we're doing is for the good of all furkind,  \nson.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; \"How can I be your son when we're the same age?\" he quipped.  \n  \n\"Oh, go sit on a bird's nest, Nick. We're sposto be having fun here!\" she barked.  \n  \n\"I know I am!\" Max piped up, cheerful as ever. Nick brushed a branch aside and  \ncould see him and Tish hiding behind the Schwartzman's garage. The eager little  \nzombie waved to him.  \n  \n\"Besides,\" Tish continued, with a little more understanding, \"we're only going to  \nget in trouble if we get caught. And we're not \\_gonna\\_ get caught. If this works,  \neither Eddie never says a word about it and we never hear from him again, or he  \nblabs to everybody and they lock him up in the nut house. Remember, he's not  \ngonna see either of \\_us\\_.\"  \n  \n\"Understood,\" Nick grumbled. But his tail was still twitching anxiously.  \n  \n\"And that's why you're the lookout, bro,\" Max added. \"We gave you the least risky  \njob so if things fuck up, you can just run off and say you had no idea what was  \ngoing on. Seriously, I'm really glad you decided to go along with this. I feel  \nbetter knowing you've got my back. Thank you. You're a good friend.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Nick smiled. \"You're welcome.\" And he did feel a little better now. Bizarre as it  \nwas, here he was talking to an actual zombie, and while trespassing on private  \nproperty to boot, and yet, somewhere deep inside, he wouldn't have wanted to be  \nanywhere else in the world right now. This was just like old times. This was just  \nlike all the other crazy adventures the three of them had gotten up to together,  \nonly bigger and bolder and more dangerous this time. The mother of all pranks.  \nAnd true, while Tish and Max had almost always had to drag him into things like  \nthis, he always ended up having a great time. He knew he'd probably never do  \nanything this exciting again for the rest of his life.  \n  \n\"Way to boost morale, soldier!\" Tish told Max cheerfully over the three-way  \nconnection. They all chuckled a bit.  \n  \n\"Can you see what they're doing?\" she asked Nick.  \n  \nHe picked up his binoculars again and scanned the windows. Easy to do, since the  \nbig house had so many of them. \"Eddie's in his room. His mom and dad are  \ndownstairs, watching TV. No, wait... his dad's getting up. Okay, just going to  \ntake a whiz. You'll be clear in a few minutes. Just promise me you'll do this as  \nquiet as possible.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; \"No, we're gonna break down the door with a battering ram and run in waving  \nChinese firecrackers,\" Tish deadpanned.  \n  \nMax snorted.  \n  \nNick giggled a bit too. \"You know what I mean. And don't worry. I can see  \neverything from here and I'll warn you if anyone does \\_anything\\_.\"  \n  \n\"Damn, this feels like one of those spy movies!\" Max said excitedly.  \n  \n\"Hey, Eddie's doing something...\" Nick whispered. He leaned a little closer,  \nwatching the pudgy rodent magnified through the round black lenses.  \n  \n\"What?\" Tish and Max both asked.  \n  \nNick winced. \"Eeew! He's changing into his pajamas, and I saw his ass for a  \nsecond!\"  \n  \nTish laughed her tail off. \"Gross! I bet it blocked out your whole view!\"  \n  \n\"Yeah, it was pretty big. Like a giant marshmallow!\"  \n  \nThe two coyotes giggled like idiots for a few moments.  \n  \nNick perked up suddenly. \"Shit! He's heading for the bathroom! Now! You gotta go  \nnow!!\"  \n  \nHe heard the snap of Tish pulling on latex gloves. She wasn't about to leave any  \npawprints. \"Okay. Here we go. I'm keeping the walkie-talkie, so Max is kinda on  \nhis own.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; \"Wish me luck,\" said Max.  \n  \n\"Tons of it,\" said Nick. \"Both of you. Don't get caught.\"  \n  \n\"We won't,\" Tish assured.  \n  \nThen Nick watched the two dark figures streak across the lawn to the  \nSchwartzman's back porch. The glass patio doors were unlocked, as they'd made  \nsure of beforehand (no one seemed to lock anything in this neighborhood), and the  \ntwins both slipped in silently.  \n  \nNick kept the binoculars glued to his face. His jaw was set in a permanent  \nnervous clench. He had never before been more scared for his friends' safety.  \n  \nBut Max was right. This did feel just like one of those spy movies. And how cool  \nwas that?  \n  \n  \n~\\*\\*\\*~  \n  \n  \n-CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT-  \n  \nLike a good boy, Eddie brushed his teeth every night before going to bed. It was,  \nquite possibly, his only decent quality.  \n  \nHe stood at the sink admiring himself as he went about his nightly routine. He  \nthought he looked great. Snow-white fur. Perfect whiskers. Handsome brown eyes  \ninstead of that freaky pink most white mice had. His cousin was the only true  \nalbino in the family, and Eddie couldn't stand looking at her when she came over  \nto visit. Those pink eyes creeped him the fuck out. They looked like vampire eyes  \nor something.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; He finished up, spat into the sink, and flashed a big grin at himself in the  \nmirror. His dark pajamas looked just like a little suit. He could see himself  \ntaking over Dad's business someday, and he thought about how much fun it was  \ngonna be to fire people.  \n  \n\"Clean out your desk and get the hell out of here by three o' clock!!\" he  \nplayfully snarled at his reflection. He laughed. He thought he'd done that pretty  \ngood.  \n  \nHe flicked off the light and closed the door. The plush hallway carpet felt nice  \non his bare feet. He padded over to the top of the stairs and shouted down,  \n\"Goodnight, Mom! Goodnight, Dad! Goin' to bed now!!\"  \n  \nThey mumbled some goodnights at him and he made a face. They were probably down  \nthere sitting on the couch in front of the TV kissing again. God, he hated that.  \nThey just looked so fucking gross when they did it.  \n  \nHe thought about what that bitch Tish had said in the supermarket this morning,  \naccusing his dad of swearing at his mom. Heh, she had no idea how backwards she'd  \ngotten it. He hardly \\*ever\\* saw mom and dad fight. And even then, it was  \ncontrolled and quiet. No screaming or cursing or hitting like some of the fucked  \nup couples he saw sometimes on TV talk shows. No, his parents hugged and kissed  \nand talked baby talk at each other constantly. Their fighting was reserved for  \neveryone \\*else\\* around them. Everyone who didn't \\*matter\\*.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; And it wasn't even really fighting then. It was more like playing. They had fun  \npassive-aggressively tormenting people at work, and especially the dumb maid who  \ncame in Sundays and Tuesdays. Eddie wondered what Mom had planned for her  \ntomorrow. One of her favorite games was to make a huge mess and pretend it had  \nbeen an accident, right in front of the stupid woman, then watch, smiling, as she  \nhad to clean it up. The maid was fun because she always took the abuse without  \nsaying a word. She was the perfect punching bag. One time Eddie had spilled a  \nplate of spaghetti down the white-carpeted stairs and then stood at the bottom  \nwatching her try to scrub out the stains. Her big fat ass bouncing around back  \nand forth was so funny, he'd had to leave the room and go outside to laugh  \nhysterically at her.  \n  \nYeah, he'd try to think up something special for tomorrow when she came.  \n  \nThus filled with happy thoughts, he toddled off to his room.  \n  \nIt was a big room, just like all the other rooms in the house. Theirs was the  \nbiggest and nicest one in the whole neighborhood, and since this was the nicest  \nneighborhood in town, it wouldn't be boasting to say they probably had the nicest  \nhouse in the whole city.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Everything was elegant and grand. Mom liked that word; 'grand'. She used it a  \nlot. Especially when talking to clients. She said there were a lot of words  \neveryday people didn't use, and that language was one of the ways you could show  \nyourself to be better than other people. Eddie kept that in mind, and always did  \nhis best to improve his vocabulary and speak with sophistication.  \n  \nOn the other hand, Dad had remarked once that a well-placed swear word could  \nsometimes be used to good effect. It produced a nice shock. Like if you were  \ntalking to some nobody, and you were speaking to him nice and soft and  \ngraciously, and then you suddenly dropped your voice and called him a fucking  \ncocksucker, sometimes you could really rattle the hell out of the bastard. Eddie  \nremembered that, too.  \n  \nThe pudgy white mouse turned off the lights and crawled into bed. He pulled his  \nsheets over him and kicked his blankets way down at the foot of his bed to rest  \nhis paws on, just how he liked. He pulled the sheet up to his chin, lying on his  \nback, and relaxed.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; The room was dark now, lit only by moonlight and his tiny firefly collection.  \nThat's what he called it. His computer, his stereo, his TV and his DVD player all  \nhad tiny little lights that stayed on even when they were turned off. Tiny little  \nred and blue and green dots of light. He liked that. And across from him, on the  \nlittle table beside his bed, the time floated in red numbers against the  \nblackness. His alarm clock. Little red floating numbers. His room was full of  \ntiny little colored lights.  \n  \nAnd then suddenly, they all went off.  \n  \nPuzzled but not scared, Eddie blinked against the darkness until his eyes  \nadjusted and he could see vague shapes again. There was his dresser, and his  \ndesk, and his entertainment center. All of it looking like it was wrapped in dark  \nvelvet. That fuzziness that shapes have in low light.  \n  \nHe guessed there might have been a blackout. It seemed a little odd, but not  \nimpossible. They usually happened during a bad storm, or when a lot of people  \nwere using their air conditioners, but tonight was clear and mild. Maybe someone  \nscrewed up at the power plant?  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Eddie laid back down, looking up at the ceiling. Wondering when the power would  \ncome back on again.  \n  \nHe sniffed.  \n  \nWhat was that smell?  \n  \nHe hadn't farted, he knew that. He didn't have any pets, and mom and dad \\_never\\_  \npoked around up here. He would have given them hell if they had. Maybe he left  \nsome food sitting out and it spoiled? Maybe. He did keep snacks up here  \nsometimes.  \n  \nBut no, it seemed to be getting stronger, and it wasn't bad food. It was much  \nworse than that. This was like dead animals on the road.  \n  \nSomething made a noise under his bed.  \n  \nEddie tensed up immediately.  \n  \nHe felt like an idiot a few moments afterward. There was nothing there.  \nObviously! He'd gotten over \\*this\\* shit when he was little. It was just that the  \npower had gone off and there was a bad smell in here, so he was a little on edge,  \nbut so what? It wasn't like-  \n  \nThe noise again. Louder.  \n  \nRasping. Scraping.  \n  \nOh Jesus Christ something was \\_under\\_ there.  \n  \nWhat was it? Maybe an animal had gotten in? A mouse? Now wouldn't that be funny.  \nScared to death of his own tiny little ancestor.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; The thing made another noise. It shuffled. It grabbed hold of the bedframe and  \npulled itself along the floor.  \n  \nIt was a hell of a lot bigger than a mouse.  \n  \nEddie was frozen stiff like an icicle. He knew what it was now. Some man had  \nbroken in here and was gonna kidnap him and hold him for ransom. Or even worse,  \nmaybe it was a pervert who wanted to... To \\_rape\\_ him. He didn't even think he  \ncould deal with such a disgusting possibility.  \n  \nAnd fuck, it was coming closer, and he couldn't move, and there wasn't anything  \nclose he could grab to use as a weapon, and that horrible, horrible smell was  \ngetting stronger.  \n  \nEddie turned his head, and eyes were looking back at him.  \n  \nIt was worse than he ever could have imagined. It was not a mouse or a kidnapper  \nor a child molester. It was a rotting, stinking corpse. And it was staring right  \nat him and smiling.  \n  \nEddie felt like some invisible hand had closed around his throat. He tried to  \nscream but it wouldn't let him. \"mommy... mommy... daddy...\"  \n  \n\"Damn, you're even more pathetic than I remember,\" The dead thing said. \"This is  \ngonna be easy.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Recognition came. A horrible, unspeakable recognition. This could not be real.  \nThis was the kind of thing that only happened in stupid horror movies. It was not  \nreal. It was just someone in a costume. It was not him.  \n  \nThe corpse tilted its head, as if hearing the mouse's doubts. Slowly, savoring  \nthe fear it was inflicting, the dead thing reached out and cupped Eddie's chin in  \nits rotting paw. \"Say my name, scumbag. Say it. You know who I am. Say it now,  \nyou fuckin' numbnuts.\"  \n  \nThe smell was unbearable. It was going right up his nose from those dried-out,  \ntwiglike fingers, clutching at his face. This was no costume. He had no doubts  \nnow. The hand was dead, and so was the creature it belonged to. Eddie trembled  \nlike a leaf in the breeze and stared into the eyes of the monster: one dark  \ngreen, one a sick, cloudy blue.  \n  \n\"Say it.\"  \n  \n\"M-m-max.\"  \n  \n\"That's right. Good boy!\" the dead thing said, like a trainer praising a pet dog.  \nIts smile was leering, unnaturally gleeful. \"And here I thought you'd be happy to  \nsee me! I'm disappointed! You told Tish you wished you'd had the chance to dunk  \nmy head in a toilet last week. Well, here I am! I assume the bathroom's down the  \nhall. You wanna try it now?\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Eddie shook his head.  \n  \n\"Yeah. I didn't think so.\" It chuckled at him. \"Wuss.\"  \n  \nThe corpse stood up, still keeping a firm hold on Eddie's chin. With the grace of  \na jungle cat, it eased itself up onto his bed. It crawled on top of him. Their  \nbodies were separated only by a thin sheet. The corpse sat on his chest, knees at  \nhis sides, looking down on him with that unchanging smile, as if it was about to  \npass judgement.  \n  \n\"You scream and I'll kill you, Eddie,\" it said casually.  \n  \nEddie nodded.  \n  \nThe dead thing leaned down. Slowly. Closer and closer. Until their noses were  \nnearly touching. It opened its mouth and breathed on him. The foulness of the  \nstench was eclipsed only by the gleam of moonlight off that set of jagged teeth,  \nwhich were less than an inch away from his face. Those teeth looked like they  \nwere eager to sink deeply into him.  \n  \n\"You said some pretty mean things to my sister today, Eddie, didn't you?\"  \n  \nThe fat mouse shook his head. \"No, nooo...\"  \n  \nThe undead monstrosity smirked. \"Oh, come on. I don't like being lied to. You  \nthink I clawed my way out of my coffin and dragged my decomposing ass through all  \nthat dirt just to listen to you bullshit? Tell the truth, man. Come on, we both  \nknow it.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; \"Okay, allright, you're right. I did. I'm sorry,\" Eddie managed to say, his voice  \na high-pitched gobble.  \n  \n\"No you're not,\" the creature said so swiftly and stingingly, it was like a slap.  \n\"You don't feel sorry for anything you do because you're more of a monster than I  \nam. Sure, I'd love to bite into your stomach and suck your guts out while you  \nwatch, but at least I'm honest about it.\"  \n  \nEddie pissed his pants.  \n  \n\"Jesus, that's disgusting!\" the dead thing yelped as it skittered off of him. But  \nit didn't run away. Instead, it sat down on the bed beside him, almost cuddling.  \nIt laid its rotting head down cheek-to-cheek with his. The smell, oh god, the  \nsmell. And he could see where its skin was peeling and cracking in places. \"Is  \nthat your idea of defense, Eddie? Pretty piss-poor if you ask me. Ha! Get it?\"  \n  \nEddie did not find that at all amusing.  \n  \nThe corpse patted Eddie on the cheek. \"So, here's the deal. You're going to leave  \nmy sister and my family alone. And I mean \\*forever\\*. Even if it's your parents  \nthat give them shit, you'll be held responsible. And if you ever say another word  \nto Tish, I'll know. And I'll come back. And in the morning, your mom and dad will  \nfind blood splattered all over the place. Nothing but blood. And it won't be  \nmine, buddy.\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Eddie jerked and twitched and shivered and made tiny, desperate sounds in the  \nback of his throat.  \n  \nThe corpse sat up again, looking down on its prey. \"I'll be watching, Eddie. All  \nthe time. I know it's kinda cliche, but...\" It reached up and wedged its fingers  \ninto its eye socket. With a twist and a sickening \\*sklutch\\* sound, it pulled out  \nits own right eye, the green one, trailing a thick red nerve cluster behind it,  \nleaving the blue-white one still staring unblinkingly at him. \"...I've got my  \n\\_eye\\_ on you.\" The corpse grinned, and popped the sticky eyeball right into  \nEddie's wide open mouth.  \n  \nHad the young mouse been able to, he would have screamed and screamed until his  \nlungs ached and there was blood in his throat. But that invisible hand still  \nwould not let go. With all his will, he forced himself not to think about the  \ntaste of the soft, round thing that had been poked between his lips.  \n  \nThe corpse slid down off the bed and stood up. \"I think that's all. Gotta get  \nback to the cemetery now. You can keep that,\" it said, pointing to what it had  \nleft behind. \"One's enough for me. Think of it as a farewell gift. And, one more  \ntime, are we clear about what I told you?\"  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Eddie nodded. Hoping ardently that maybe if he just agreed, this thing would go  \naway and leave him alone. He spat the eyeball out and it rolled down his cheek,  \nleaving a drool-trail. \"Uh huh.\"  \n  \n\"No more fucking around with my sister?\"  \n  \n\"Right.\"  \n  \n\"No more threatening to sue my parents?\"  \n  \n\"'Course not.\"  \n  \nThe corpse smiled, satisfied. \"Good. Great. Fantastic.\" It turned towards the  \nwindow. \"Well, I guess I'll be going now!\" it called out cheerfully.  \n  \nEddie felt relief flood his heart.  \n  \nThe dead thing took a step forward, then paused. \"Oh, wait. I almost forgot. One  \nmore thing...\"  \n  \n\"What?\" Eddie whined, just wanting this horrible insane nightmare to end.  \n  \nMax jumped up on the bed, an insanely cheerful grin on his face. \"This!\" he  \ncried, tail wagging.  \n  \nAnd then he began to vomit.  \n  \nEddie finally screamed as a tidal wave of blood and guts spewed out of the dead  \nthing's mouth. It was like the corpse was unraveling its entire body, turning  \nitself inside-out. Hunks of intestine and wet bits of liver flew out of the  \nzombie's throat as if shot from a meat-loaded cannon. The red rain splattered all  \nover Eddie's face, his bed, the sheets, his pajamas. It got in his hair, up his  \nnose, and large meaty chunks went straight into his mouth. He didn't care. His  \nmind was gone. His scream was finally loose; he'd been saving it up for a while  \nand it was a doozy.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; It seemed to go on for an eternity. An eternity of red, dripping, reeking, rotten  \nvomit.  \n  \nEddie laid there in bed, covered nearly head to toe in carrion, screaming  \nmindlessly at the top of his lungs.  \n  \nThat was how his mother and father found him moments later. They'd ran upstairs  \nas soon as they heard the scream, wet and gurgling, sounding like their boy was  \nbeing murdered. And at first they thought that was exactly what had happened.  \nEddie's dad slammed open the door to his son's room, flicked on the light and  \nthought for a brief, heart-stopping second that somehow his boy had swallowed a  \ngrenade and it had gone off.  \n  \nEddie's mother started shrieking too. She hated the sight of even a small drop of  \nher own blood, detested horror movies, and this was more gore than she had ever  \nseen in her life. In the bright, glaring light, the blood looked very, very red  \nindeed.  \n  \nThe only way they knew Eddie was still alive was that he still would not stop  \nscreaming.  \n  \nThey rushed over to his bed and began doing a very odd little dance. They both  \nwanted to hold their son and comfort him, but neither of them wanted to actually  \ntouch the hideous stuff he was covered with. So they both kept moving forward and  \njerking back, again and again. \"Jesus, Eddie! Calm down! Stop screaming! What the  \nfuck happened!?\" Mr. Schwartzman bellowed.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Eddie could not focus his eyes; they roamed crazily around the room.\"Dead!!  \nThing!! A corpse!! Under the bed!! Dead thing!! Threw up!! Eyeball in my mouth!!\"  \n  \n\"What in the world are you talking about, darling?!\" his mother fretted, still  \nunable to actually come within a foot of the steaming, stinking mess on his bed.  \n  \n\"A FUCKING ZOMBIE THREW UP ON ME, MOM!!! THAT'S WHAT FUCKING HAPPENED!!!\" he  \nshrieked, drops of blood flying off his whiskers, his eyes lolling and swirling  \nwith madness and rage.  \n  \nObviously, whatever had happened was too traumatic for her son to deal with, so  \nhe had transposed an image from some scary movie on top of it. \"You're not hurt,  \nare you? This isn't your blood? Oh, please, God...\"  \n  \n\"No, it's not mine!! It's the zombie's!! Aren't you paying attention!? Get this  \nshit OFF of me!!!\"  \n  \nShaking, terminally confused and frightened, Mrs. Schwartzman threw up her hands  \nand ran from the room, yelling, \"I'll get some towels!!\"  \n  \nMr. Schwartzman was having a hard time forcing himself to believe that this was  \nnot just some bizarre TV show he'd dozed off in front of. He looked all around  \nthe room, and noticed the open window, the curtains flapping in the night breeze.  \n\"Shit, they must have gotten away. Don't worry, son! I'll get the bastards who  \ndid this! I'll wring their little necks!\" And he too fled the room.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; It is a test of a furson's true character, when they are faced with a nightmarish  \nsituation such as this. A disgusting tableau and a loved one in trouble. Some  \nfursons are able to face their disgust and push through, rushing to the aid of  \nwhoever is in trouble. Others, ones possessed of more selfish natures, find  \nexcuses (such as towels and open windows) to get as far away from the scene as  \nthey possibly can.  \n  \nThat left Eddie, quiet for now, still lying on his back in his bed, his fur  \ncompletely soaked with carnage, abandoned by his parents.  \n  \nHe stared up at the ceiling. He tried to convince himself he hadn't really seen  \nwhat he thought he'd seen. That it had all been some kind of elaborate trick. It  \nwas dark, that was all. Someone had played a very mean joke on him. Nothing  \nsupernatural about it.  \n  \nWith the lights on now, it was easy to think such things.  \n  \nThen the dead thing slithered out from under his bed again and stood up. Blood  \nhad soaked its black clothes and grey fur. It wiped its mouth on its sleeve and  \ngave Eddie a sheepish grin, looking at him with one diseased eye and one gaping,  \nsagging socket.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; \"Gosh, I'm sorry about that. Musta been something I ate!\"  \n  \nThe dead thing laughed and walked nonchalantly out the door.  \n  \nEddie started screaming again.  \n  \n  \n~\\*\\*\\*~  \n  \n  \n-CHAPTER TWENTY NINE-  \n  \nA handful of minutes later, three breathless cubs all met up several blocks away  \nat the decided-upon rendezvous point. They had each split up and gone in wildly  \ndifferent directions, and none of them had even been spotted, much less pursued.  \nNevertheless, they were all panting and their hearts were thumping.  \n  \nThey all looked up at each other, and at the same time, burst out laughing.  \n  \nNick nearly fell over. \"Oh, man! Wow!! I watched the whole thing! You scared the  \neverliving crap outta him! He's gonna end up in a mental hospital for the rest of  \nhis life!\"  \n  \n\"Yeah, Max!\" Tish congratulated. \"Great work!\"  \n  \nMax took a small bow. \"Thank you, thank you! You're too kind.\"  \n  \n\"I'd hug you if you weren't all covered in stinky meat stuff,\" she said. Earlier  \nthat afternoon, Tish had biked back to the supermarket with the rest of her  \nsaved-up money and bought beef liver, chitlins, headcheese, blood sausage, cow  \ntongue and ground up hamburger. Basically, anything that looked sufficiently like  \nzombie entrails. Just before heading out, Max had happily devoured all of it,  \nraw. He said it was delicious, and it probably would have kept him feeling  \nnourished and full for a long time. But he didn't have any regrets about having  \nto lose it as part of the plan.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; He chortled. \"Me too. Aw man, this stuff really does stink! You're gonna need to  \nturn the hose on me when we get home.\"  \n  \n\"Well, at least \\*you're\\* clean enough to hug,\" Tish told Nick. She pounced on the  \ncheetah and gave him a big squeeze and a kiss on the cheek. \"You were great too!  \nLike my guardian angel!\"  \n  \nNick blushed a bit and accepted the embrace. And the kiss was actually a lot  \nnicer than he'd expected. His job had been to relay to Tish what was going on in  \nEddie's room. While she snuck down to the basement, Max headed upstairs and  \nslipped into their nemesis' room unseen. When the roly-poly li'l bastard was in  \nplace, Nick gave the signal for Tish to pull the fuse for his room. This was a  \ntricky part of the plan, and they had all agreed not to go through with it if the  \nfuses were unlabeled. Tish didn't want all the lights to go out. The objective  \nwas to freak Eddie out while keeping his parents in the dark (ha ha) for as long  \nas possible. To Tish's delight, Mr. Schwartzman owned a label-maker, and all the  \nfuses were marked clear as day. 'EDDIES ROOM' was right there, ripe for the  \nplucking. And as soon as she'd heard screaming, she plugged that sucker right  \nback in and hauled ass up the stairs and out of the house, jamming her rubber  \ngloves in her pocket as she ran.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; Now it was all over, and everything had worked out to perfection. Tish could not  \nhave been happier. \"You ever heard that phrase, 'revenge is a dish best served  \ncold'?\" she asked the boys.  \n  \nThey both nodded.  \n  \nShe grinned. \"They're wrong. Revenge is a dish best served with hot fudge and  \nrainbow sprinkles.\"  \n  \n\"What's that mean?\" Nick asked.  \n  \n\"It means,\" she explained with a crafty smirk, \"that if you're gonna, you might  \nas well have a lot of fun doing it.\"  \n  \n\"Definitely!\" Max cheered.  \n  \n\"Let's go home and get you cleaned up before mom realizes that rubber bunny's in  \nmy bed again,\" Tish said.  \n  \n\"What'd you put in my sleeping bag?\" asked Nick.  \n  \n\"A bunch of stuffed animals, and Dad's bowling ball for your head.\"  \n  \nNick was mildly insulted.  \n  \n\"Oh, come on! It's not like they're gonna look anyway! Let's go!\"  \n  \nThe three of them dashed off down the deserted, empty street. Max politely lagged  \nbehind, and tried his best to stay downwind.  \n  \n  \n~\\*\\*\\*~  \n  \n  \n-CHAPTER THIRTY-  \n  \nFor Eddie Schwartzman, life was never quite the same again.  \n  \nWhen the police came, Eddie had just gotten out of the shower. He'd been in there  \nso long, all the hot water had completely turned to cold. He barely noticed  \nthough. All that mattered was getting the stains and the smell out of his fur.  \nHe'd scrubbed himself so hard, he actually tore his skin in places.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; When he stepped out of the bathroom, clad only in a towel, he was immediately  \nasked many, many questions. He gave the same answer again and again: Max Lopez  \nhad come back from the dead and puked on him. The more he said it, the less they  \nbelieved him, and the angrier he got. Eventually he was reduced to a screaming  \ntantrum. He kicked and bit at the officers as they tried to restrain him. His  \ntowel fell off, adding humiliation like fuel to his fire. He became so violent  \nthe police had no choice but to handcuff him while his horrified parents looked  \non.  \n  \nThey hauled him down to the police station like a common criminal. Eddie was not  \na happy boy. His anger never ebbed, only escalated. They kept on asking him again  \nand again what had happened, who had attacked him, and Eddie kept on explaining  \nover and over that it was that zombie sonofabitch Max. He became so enraged at  \nthem for not taking him seriously that black spots danced in his vision, he  \ncoughed up blood, and finally, he actually passed out from sheer overexertion.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; The adults shook their heads and tsk-tsked. The poor boy was delusional, and he  \nwas determined not to be shaken from that delusion. So, Mr. and Mrs. Schwartzman  \nlocated a child psychiatric facility with an outstanding reputation and Eddie was  \nsent to live there for a while. If you think he accepted this new development  \nquietly and with dignity, then you would be wrong. The insults he howled at his  \nparents for 'betraying him' were too foul to even be accurately described. When  \nthe men in white coats finally carted him off, it was a relief.  \n  \nHis first day at Peaceful Oaks' Sanctuary For Troubled Youth, Eddie broke another  \npatient's nose and told a nurse to suck his cock when she tried to give him a  \nsedative. Three guards had to wrestle the fat little mouse down and stick him in  \nthe ass with a needle. When he woke up, he was strapped to a table in the maximum  \nsecurity wing, in a featureless white room which was to be his new home for a  \nvery long time. Eddie screamed obscenities into thin air for hours and hours upon  \nend. The night nurse worried he was going to burst his larynx eventually.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp; The doctors soon learned that not only was Eddie the angriest child they had ever  \nencountered (stemming obviously from his total inability to accept the reality of  \nwhat had happened to him the night of the 'meat incident'), but that he was also  \nthe purest child psychopath \\*anyone\\* had ever discovered. Eddie seemed to not  \nonly have been born without a conscience, but his parents had actually  \n\\*encouraged\\* his antisocial, cruel and heartless behavior. It was thought that he  \nwas very possibly a hopeless case.  \n  \nAnd so, little Eddie spent many, many years strapped down, drugged or locked up.  \n  \nNeither Tish nor Max ever saw him again.  \n  \nAnd perhaps they may have inadvertently saved the rest of the world from a  \nhellishly malevolent force of nature hidden within the body of a small boy.  \n  \n  \n~\\*\\*\\*~  \n  \n  \nEND OF BOOK TWO  \n  \n  \n  \n  \n\n","series":{"name":"Summer Vacation Of The Living Dead","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/8406-summer-vacation-of-the-living-dead-book-1.json","next":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/8408-summer-vacation-of-the-living-dead-book-3.json"}}