Romancing the Afterlife

28 Hours Later

Detective Brand was at his wits end with his new case. It was one of the most frustrating and stupid challenges of his short career. For starters he had about thirty-seven different contradicting testimonies and counting. The phones were still ringing about some supposed zombie that was spotted at the beach. A female beach goer named Julie, Janie, Jenny, Jolie, Jazzy or even Gerri according to one person, had ripped her own hand off (some say in protest) and transformed into an unholy satanic creature who had come to eat brains and blend in with modern society, possibly in order to mate with them and have a litter of zombie children. The issues with this collaborated story were obnoxiously numerous, despite it being such a popular one. Beyond the simple fact that it dealt with the supernatural and was logically impossible, writing ghost stories on a report also made him seem stupid himself. He was police detective, not the Ghostbusters, Buffy or John Constantine. Nearly all the witnesses were under the age of 21 and many were intoxicated at the time, despite them all denying it. It was largely assumed many of them had been using some sort of hallucinogenic drug knowingly or not, and were tricked by some over the top prank, causing them to trip balls and start a small riot.

There were of course, no actual reports that included any horrible injuries, infectious bites or eaten brains, with the exception of one girl who had been dropped off at the hospital with a bullet lodged in her brain. The boyfriend of this one victim claimed one of the rioters had shot into his car from a mile away while the two of them were driving away from the insanity, after they had been cruising around the beach for fun. He said they saw no zombie girl, just freaked out drunken teenagers looking to perform anarchy. It seemed as likely a story as an attractive girl who partied on the beach with most of Raccoon Hill’s more social elite teenagers, demonstrated some hot dance moves, tried to hook up with a guy who had something going with one of the other girls, and then when she got busted for being a “thirsty hoe bag” she retaliated by ripping off her skin and revealing the zombie girl she was underneath. The zombie girl who there had been no further sightings of. The boyfriend didn’t know for certain who had shot into his car and handicapped his girlfriend, but he suspected the shooter had probably been Bruce Holden, because in his words “that’s the kind of guy he is”. It was a pretty flimsy accusation, but he had to start somewhere.

Brand was convinced his police captain hated him. That was why he had assigned him such an asinine case, so he could laugh at him with the rest of the station behind his back. He had never been that nice to him, although not many of them were. He was the youngest detective in Raccon Hill at age 27 the other four detectives were all above 40. It was a small station in a small town. The only others in the station his age were two regular street cops who were always relegated to giving out tickets, because they were too immature for anything else. He had spent the beginning of his detective career getting coffee for the rest of his team, paying his dues as they liked to call it. When they finally let him have his first case, he spilled his coffee on the evidence, which led them to not being able to convict the Pet store robber, even though they had the robber on camera holding a bunny hostage. There were very few crimes in Raccoon Hill, let alone investigations, he had been waiting a long time for a second chance. A year and a half later the success of his second chance is based on the supernatural and stupid overreacting teenagers.

He left his small cubicle, aka his office, and checked in with his assistant Angela at her desk. He was allowed to choose his own assistant for this case, he chose Angela because she was the only one who was even remotely close to being a friend of his. She was a regular cop and was older than him with a family at home. She had been screening all the calls coming in about the undead incident. Her face looked as stressed as he felt, so when she got up and left at his approach, he followed her outside. The phone on her desk was left ringing. She stepped out the side exit and lit a cigarette she pulled out of nowhere, ten feet from the safe smoking area. She offered him a cigarette and was surprised when he confessed he didn’t smoke. A large majority of the station smoked. She told him that no new or relevant information had come in and Captain Helsing was expecting him to hand in a full report when he closed the case, which he expected to be the end of the day. Brand shouted some obscenities, and then asked her to have Bruce Holden brought in for questioning. She had the two young officers on standby.

The only thing that proved any of the bullshit he was supposed to be investigating had any remote truth to it was the alleged zombie’s hand. One of the teens had turned it over, claiming he found it at the side of the road at the beach. They at first had been reluctant to believe it was real since the teen handled it with his own bare hands, which when verified he and Angela both agreed was pretty gross. They determined it more likely to be a girl’s hand based on the green nail polish on the fingers. The hand had to be sent to a forensics unit in Tallahassee for identification, because they didn’t have a forensics expert in Raccoon Hill. So until they called to give him its identification or Bruce Holden was brought in, he was spinning in his chair ignoring calls and drinking copious amounts of hazelnut roasted coffee.

The sky was black but constantly illuminated by enormous bolts of lightning that sometimes touched down and scorched the earth. The town of Raccoon Hill was on red alert, a state of emergency had been called. Everyone sat armed and ready, shivering waiting for the attack. She marched to the top of the hill for which the town was named, and looked down at all the silly scared citizens. The time had come for them to pay. It was their time to go to the afterlife she had come from. This time she had brought friends, friends who were at her command. The zombie casts of Jersey Shore, and The Hills, and the last season she remembered of the bachelor were in her army, along with enough zombie raccoons to eat all the citizens’ corpses. She sent them down the hill into town to destroy. She watched as Bruce Holden was crushed, and her dad was melted, and Amber Ackles was ignored and had to watch as every attractive male was torn to pieces in front of her. She raised her fist up in victory! Only to bring her arm down to discover her fist was missing.

She shot up startled, breathing heavy, grabbing an empty soda can and crushing it. She looked around trying to refresh her mind as to where she was. The radio played quietly on the closest dance station, it wasn’t that close and came in as half static. The coffee table was littered with several empty soda cans, a dirty coffee mug, two stacked dirty plates with forks on them, and a pizza box. Cain sat in the corner in the bean bag chair. He had put the book he was reading down and smiled. “You finally woke up.”

“How long was I asleep?”

He looked at an old alarm clock sitting on a cardboard box. It read 3:06. “About 29 hours I think. It’s pretty early in the morning.”

“Holy cow.”

“I know, was like a coma, but it was worth it. I worried I wouldn’t be here or would be sleeping when you woke up.” He yawned.

She raised her hands to her face, looking them over, relieved to see dark tan flesh on two fully formed wonderful hands with all eight fingers and two opposable thumbs again. She then looked down at herself and saw her two magnificent mammaries under her dirty torn shirt right where they belonged, approximately the same size. She would have looked at her toes, but they were under a blanket Cain had thrown on top of her while she was sleeping. She looked over at Cain who had a satisfied smile from watching her exuberant reaction that she knew he had been anticipating. “My nail is chipped,” she scoffed with a laugh, limiting his ability to be pleased with himself.

“Well how do you feel?”

“Hungry, really hungry.”

“Yeah, there’s half a meat lover’s pizza there,” he pointed to the pizza box, and I have half a box of burgers and a hibachi outside.”

“You’d make me burgers at three in the morning?” she asked it almost rhetorically, knowing the answer. She didn’t realize how much she was smiling at him; he was still there for her. To him it was a exciting surprise to see her so happy around him. He had done a lot of thinking while she slept and had decided to change his approach with her. He went outside in the dark and started the hibachi grill. The burgers he would make would get the attention of every local neighbour dog, and have them bothering their owners in the middle of the night. Inside Lucy turned the TV on only to discover there was no cable in The Box. She saw a pile of DVDs and started going through them, most of them were violent action movies or superhero movies, and eventually she found a movie about a zombie who falls for a human girl. It was a comedy, and seemed a little coincidental. She was a few minutes into the movie when Cain came in with the burgers and they ate and watched together.

Halfway through the movie Cain paused it and turned to her, “I need to talk to you about something.”

She sensed it was something serious “Okay, what’s the matter?”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, “I guess I’ve been afraid to ask you, but was this you?” he flicked through a few things on his phone, and handed it to her. She looked at his phone to see the mysterious texts the night she died. She kind of stared at it for awhile. He couldn’t get a positive or negative read from her face.

“I have to be honest. I don’t remember this, I was pretty bombed.” She watched his face drop a little, and felt a small pain of guilt. “This was my number, I just can’t tell you what I was thinking at the time. I might have been a bit horny” This brought his face back up and to attention, she laughed on the inside.

“There is something I’m going to give you, I hope you understand what it means, and how hard this was for me. Physically and emotionally.” He reached into his other pocket and placed something on the coffee table it was a shiny black rock with red veins in it. She was confused for awhile, turning it over in her hands, but when she realized what it was she knew that he was trying to give her, her freedom. She couldn’t believe he was giving this to her, especially since he had told her the story of him dropping it in with her body. She stared at him with wonder and puzzlement. He didn’t explain, he just told her it was hers.

He had come to see the whole stone business for what it was. The stone wasn’t meant to make people love you, just bring back the one that you loved, it was assumed you loved someone who loved you as well before they died. She could never be content as long as the fact remained that she had no choice but to be with him forever, if she wished not to become a walking corpse again. Cain would do his best to instill faith in her that a life with him could work and not be that bad. They could move far away, beyond any suspicion and she could still pursue her dreams, whatever they were. He would help her be anything she wanted to be, and he would never abandon her, as long as she wanted him around.

She leaned back against the futon and curled her feet up beside her. “Do you remember those silly candy hearts you use to give me?”

“On valentine’s yeah.”

“Not just on valentine’s, you sometimes gave me a bag on my birthday too.”

“Oh, I uh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, I never told anyone, but I loved them. I would take them home and put them in a dish by my bed, every morning I would read one and then eat it like a daily love vitamin. You were really sweet, and I just never gave you the credit.” She patted the spot next to her on the futon. Coaxing him to come sit beside her. The invitation made him a bit nervous, as it was the opposite sort of behaviour from all his experience with girls, and this was Lucy Little. He sat down next to her trying not to seem nervous, but wasn’t successful enough to look comfortable either. Lucy was no stranger to guys being a bit intimidated by her. “So, you kissed me before I fell asleep?”

“Uh, yeah I did,” he said unsure of if her question was leading to an accusation, “I worried that maybe there wouldn’t be another chance. An- And it might heal you. It kind of seems related.”

“You kissing me?”

“Well my presence, general affection, tender feelings. It’s all really guesswork.” He might have said more, but she took his face in her hands and kissed him hard and intensely. Cain recognized that this felt absolutely nothing like the last time when he kissed her, and it meant so much more. This was the basis of every fantasy he had ever had about her. Her lips were soft and moist, and they led his up and down in tandem. For a brief moment he felt her tongue poke in between his lips, it felt odd but he loved it. Her hands on his face held him still so he didn’t squirm or turn his head too much. When the kiss was over she pulled away, but he quickly leaned forward and gave her a small kiss of his own, not wanting the moment to be over. She snickered at his cute eagerness.

“Why don’t we finish the movie,” she suggested to him, pleased with the enamored look on his face. He hit play on the remote and the movie started again. He had actually never watched it before. It was one that Jonas had left there. He was a bit surprised when she leaned over on him and lifted his arm to put it around her. Even though they had just been kissing it was still new and exciting to him. He had only ever kissed one girl before. It was the sixth grade, her name was Susie Jacobs, she had braces, and it was just an experiment. Nothing like the kiss he had just shared with Lucy. She seemed to really enjoy the movie, she laughed a couple times and they occasionally drew funny parallels to their own situation.

When the movie ended, he turned it off and then waited to see what she would want to do. Perhaps she would be tired still, he knew he sort of was, but the adrenaline of having his dream girl with him kept him from becoming drowsy. She stood up, coming only a few inches from the ceiling and walked to the door. He worried she might just walk out his life again, but she only opened it a crack to peek outside. It was still pretty dark outside. The sun hadn’t started its ascent yet. She closed the door and looked back at him. “Does this door lock?”

“Well not really, I mean there’s a hole on the outside of the door and you can put a lock on it, but then we’d be trapped. Why would you want to lock the door?” he naively asked.

“To lower the risk, but I think we’re okay.” She leaned down and turned the small heater on, then stood up and took her top off, leaving just a bra covering her breasts. “Let’s see if you can make me invulnerable,” she said with a sly sexy smile, as she moved towards him. He leaned away from her a bit from nerves but he kept eye contact with her. He knew it wasn’t a cruel joke, as she got closer to him, he became aroused but also worried he was about to have a panic attack. Jonas had occasionally given him advice or descriptions of certain experiences, but none of it was overly helping him at this moment. He wondered if she suspected his inexperience, “Don’t worry, I’ll help you, it’ll be really easy.” She definitely knew, but he felt a little better about it.

Bruce was picked up wandering out of a bar at closing time. The two officers sent to pick him up actually happened to know Bruce. They chatted to him about sports and women in the parking lot and then let him wait in the car, as they questioned the bartender while enjoying a complementary beer. The bartender claimed Bruce had been drinking all night bothering other patrons about an evil brunette who shamed him by scaring him in public instead of putting out. He was thrown in the proverbial drunk tank until he was sober enough to speak cohesively, but hopefully still drunk enough to be unconsciously honest. Naturally Bruce immediately claimed there had never even been a gun, so there was no way he could have been the shooter. The shooter had a gun, so he didn’t see the shooter or the shooting. It was drunken logic. Several people admitted to having seen him many times at the local gun range, and apparently he was extremely proficient at shooting. He didn’t have a gun permit though and all the guns at the range were accounted for. The shooter’s gun was never found at the scene. Neighbours apparently heard several shots but no one identified Bruce, instead they complained that the police needed to be more on top of monster attacks and riots, for the sake of the children. Bruce insisted that he had been with a friend Amber Ackles the whole time, and admitted that they both witnessed the zombie girl but they lost her when she ran away. He claimed Amber was currently at home recovering from an injury caused by gymnastic dancing. A phone call to her house verified this information with her mother. Bruce was placed into a holding cell for the time being, but lasted about an hour before he asked to confess more to Detective Brand.

Angela brought Bruce into the interview room, telling him to sit and remain there. She offered him a beverage, but when he requested a jack and coke she left him there. Brand entered the room brandishing a mug of coffee. He looked at Bruce long and hard, trying to stare him down, but Bruce could barely even keep his eyes open. Brand knew Bruce was a bigger part of this and probably had something to do with Janice Rawlhaerich’s shooting, but he couldn’t prove it yet. It was hard for him to think since he’d been awake for thirty-seven hours now, “Do you know what time it is?”

“No,” Bruce answered honestly, not realizing the question was rhetorical.

“You need to tell me something, and you need to be quick. There are cells I can put you in with people that would enjoy the company of a strapping lad like yourself,” he was bluffing, and it was hard to tell if Bruce was buying it.

“I know the zombie girl’s name.” Bruce thought he was offering him something.

“So do I. Anything else?”

“She got away in an orange car.”

“The one that was shot at?”

“Yessss. Janice Rawlbitch or whatever was in the car.”

“And you shot her trying to shoot the zombie girl.”

“f**k no!” Bruce pounded the table, making Brand jump a bit and spill his coffee, both embarrassing and annoying him. Bruce spoke more calmly trying to hide his amused smile “Just saw her get in the car. Someone must have shot at them down the road.”

Detective Brand had already spoke to Jonas about possibly aiding the escape, he of course denied there was ever a zombie in his car, mainly because they don’t exist, unless you were referring to Janice who apparently didn’t smile much even before she had been shot. It was sadly the most logical and practical statement Detective Brand had heard in the last twenty-four hours. “See the problem buddy, is there is no proof of a zombie. Just a girl in the hospital with a bullet in her head, making her to stare off into the next plain of existence. If you can’t help me, then you’re wasting my time.”

“Okay, okay, I was going to kick his ass, but I guess you can. There is this kid named Cain.”

“And he shot her?”

“No, he has the zombie.” Well, it was something Brand thought to himself.

The pre-dawn night became the regular early morning. The sun was rising, but most people had barely woken up if at all. Cain and Lucy lay under a blanket tangled cuddling, mostly naked. They hadn’t said a thing to eachother in awhile, instead just reveling in the relaxed joy of their previous activities and the comfort of the warm body next to them. Cain was ready for a nap, but Lucy was wide-awake. Though it had been Cain’s actual first time, it surprisingly had felt similar to her first time too, except much better. Her mind had a lot more experience than her current body. She admitted to him at one point that she had been missing s*x since the first day she was back, like she hadn’t had it in over a year. They had giggled and made plenty of personal jokes about this to eachother.

Cain broke the silence, “So I knew about your butterfly tattoo, but how long ago did you get this one?” He touched her inner left thigh, where her angel tattoo was. She blushed but her face got a little more serious. She didn’t say anything at first, he was the third person to ever see it, but he would be the first to know the truth about it.

“A few months before the end of the school year, like early spring. It’s kind of special. I had this babysitter when I was a kid and she always talked about Europe and how great it was there, and how she didn’t want an American boyfriend because the guys there were sooo much better,” she said the last part in a funny voice, “Well I don’t know, I just never forgot her preference and desire for foreign men. So this one time I’m checking out guys on dating sites, with a fake profile of course, and I end up meeting this half Italian, half Portuguese stud. I won’t get too into the nitty gritty, but he had my attention, and we talked everyday. He was finished school and working in Spain, his name was Angel. The more we talked the more we fell in love. He was so smart and funny, and he had a sexy suave accent whenever we used Skype. He was a Jack-of-all-trades, could make money wherever he went. He was a real free spirit. I was going to go meet him in Spain that summer and we were going to go around Europe together. I don’t know if I ever would have come back.”

“You can still go see him.”

“No, I can’t Cain. He was attacked by some crazy tourists and he died.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” she snapped before calming her tone, “I googled it, it was him. That’s why I have this tattoo, in memory. No one really knows about him, except you I guess. I still wanted to go there and pay my respects, I was just waiting until school was done, and then …”

“And then you died.” He finished for her.

“Yeah, maybe I met him in the afterlife. I have no idea.”

“Well now that you have the stone, you can still go and pay your respects one day.”

“If the stone is the answer, then yeah, but you don’t know for sure. Plus I don’t have I.D. or money. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Sure it does. I’ll help you get I.D. and I have been saving for school for awhile, I’ll take you.”

“That’s really sweet, but let’s stop talking about it for now. Just makes me sad.” Cain understood. They got dressed and talked for a few more hours, getting to actually know more about eachother and feel like real friends. He brought her inside for breakfast and helped her get through the intrusive questions and answers period with his mother. His mom would later tell his dad that Cain had gotten really lucky with finding Julie. They were actually proud of their son for his choice of girlfriend, more so than they had been when he graduated (because that was more expected).