I blink. Miles has launched straight back into regular roommate chat as if nothing happened. “Uh, sure. I’m on it. Anything else I can pick up for you?”
“All good, Adam. I’m glad you’re OK.” He slaps me on the back and pulls his headphones back on, returning to his desk.
Seems like I’ve got a habit of undervaluing the people in my life who can actually be relied on. And a bad habit of keeping shitty friends. Not a single one of my so-called buddies ever called me back after I left frightened messages on their phones. They’ve shown their true colors I guess. I won’t be putting in the graft to keep in touch with them.
I will be grafting to make things up to Jen after last night. I trudge into my room and sling my bag onto the bed, sitting with my head in my hands. I really let her down, and even though she wasn’t angry with me, I’m angry with myself. I can’t let go of it.
That asshole shifter probably tries the same shit with every woman he meets, and I bet not all of them have someone there with them to make sure he doesn’t get away with it.
I grind my teeth thinking about the smirk on his dickhead face when he thought he could intimidate me and get what he wanted from Jen.
Fuck him.
I promised Jen I wouldn’t fight him or try to find him again, but I can’t stop thinking about the fact a guy like that doesn’t pull that shit as a one-off.
I almost message her just to see if she’s having a nice day, but when I check the time, I realize she’ll be at work by now. She hates it when I interrupt at work. Besides, I left a note and only saw her a few hours ago. I don’t need to smother her.
I set my phone down.
I try to take my mind off it by searching for information online to answer Jen’s question, but just like last time I looked, the internet is full of contrasting information. Some pages say zombies don’t exist, some say they are mindless drones who lose their sense of self, some say zombies last until sunrise, some say we last as long as we can keep all our bits together.
Frustrated, I shut the browser and message Rosie, the coordinator of Friends Of The Dead.
Surely she will know.
Sure enough, she messages back quickly, but her answer still leaves me puzzled.Rosie: I’ve never met any zombies older than me. I mean ones that were turned before I was. I’ve been a zombie about 18 years.
I mean eighteen years isn’t bad, but I’d like to be around until Jen is older than forty-seven.
Adam: How were you turned?
I’ve never thought to ask Rosie that, but now it seems like the obvious question.
A moment later she calls me, and I pick up. “Hi.”
“It’s easier this way. My fingers don’t work as fast as they used to,” Rosie explains. “You know, it’s a long story. I’m not sure I’ve ever really gotten to the bottom of it. As far as I can tell, it happens through a curse. The whole crap about getting bitten is bollocks.”
“Mmm. That’s how it happened for me. So who cursed you?”
Rosie sighs. “I’ll never know for sure. I used to live next door to this strange older woman. I used to call her a witch, but that was just because she fit the stereotype. Anyway, there was this patch of land between my property and hers. I didn’t do much with it, but it was technically mine. She wanted to put plants there, and I told her no. Told her I didn’t want the hassle. I can’t remember why I felt so strongly about it. We had a disagreement.
“I remember at the time she stole some of my clothes off the washing line. I didn’t think much of it, but I learned later the magic only works if you have a possession of the person you’re cursing. I just thought she was crazy.”
I nod, though she can’t see me. I’m thinking about the lock of hair my date tore from my head. This tracks.
“Then nothing happened for a long time after. I didn’t die for years. When I got the diagnosis, though, there was nothing the doctors could do. The tumor was too far advanced. We didn’t treat it. But one day I just woke up and I felt… better. It didn’t seem like a bad thing at first. Not at all, but my husband left. He said he couldn’t stand to see me like this. I learned much later that the curse works on those who have a lesson to learn. I spent my life being selfish, only worrying about myself. Now I spend my death trying to give back to the community.”
I swallow, thinking about what she said. If the curse only works on those who have a lesson to learn, there’s no doubt in my mind that my lesson was fixing things with Jen. Fixing me.
“What happens when you learn your lesson?” I croak.
“Oh, not to worry, love. I’m still here, aren’t I?” She cackles at her own joke. “You’ve got at least eighteen more years and counting.”
“Hmm.”
I’m sure she can tell I’m not reassured. “Look, Adam, none of us knows how long we’ve got left, not when we’re alive and notwhen we’re dead. Anything could happen at any time. You have to do your best to be the best person or monster you can be in the time you’ve got every day. That’s my motto.”
I sigh. She’s right. “Thanks, Rosie.”
