Chapter 3

  Ray

  After my talk with Mai yesterday, I wonder if I should just accept being undead. It’s not like I change it with a snap of my fingers. I clench my chest as images of my mom and dad, Rob and Kadisha Dean, overwhelm me. I remember we built a treehouse together. Dad kept hitting his hand with the hammer because he kept getting distracted talking to me and mom. He gets easily distracted. I don’t know what mom saw in him. I miss those times.

  I can’t give up. I have to see my parents again. “I’m going to be alive again!” I shout.

  I realize where I am. Zombies are lined up, waiting for tickets to go to the living world. There are hundreds of others in their seats, waiting for their number to be called. I’m in Wake Park, well, at the outer gate. It’s where the top officials of ZAS, zombie and living, meet. My uncle is on a meeting with ZAS’s higher branch about the recent kidnappings. I’m just here so my uncle can keep an eye on me. My life sucks.

  If that’s not bad enough, all the zombies laugh and ridicule me because of my recent admission of wanting to be alive again. The one next to me doesn’t laugh. He gives me a pitiful stare.

  “You got folks at home?” he asks.

  “Yeah, we all do,” I say, depressingly.

  He taps my shoulder, pointing at the undead receptionist giving out slips. She’s laughing the hardest.

  “I got a wife and kid back home,” he laughs. “I sneak out every night to see them. I fool these clowns with a fake slip. Gets em’ every time.”

  I can’t stop laughing at his story.

  Suddenly, he lowers his head, moaning. “But I can’t look my boy in his eye. That’s the rough part,” he continues.

  I get up, shooting my fist in the air. “When I find the Casket, I’ll bring you back, too, so you can see your son again.”

  Everyone gives me a skeptical glare, except the man I’ve been talking to; he just smiles. Some of the zombies call me stupid, telling me to accept this new life.

  Amy comes in, dragging me to the side like an embarrassed parent. “What are we gonna do with you?” she laughs nervously. She takes me to the office where she hands me some ice cream. They seem busy today. There are a lot of faculty members stamping papers.

  “You’re dead. Accept it,” says an irritating voice. “Stuck between life and death – a wandering soul yearning for purpose. Stop your whining, kid. It’s annoying. You’ve been here over a year.”

  Chris Ming. He’s as cold as ever. A somewhat round Chinese priest with a blue scarf, trench coat, and tan slacks. He exudes a purple aura that makes the building quake. The staff trembles at his power. It stops a few minutes later. Showoff.

  Amy stares him down. “That’s cruel.”

  Chris takes a pipe and sticks it in his mouth, lighting it with a match. “Yes, but Ray has to face reality. Sure, the undead only have 12 hours of the day between 8 am to 8 pm in the Living World. But he can use that time to find a hobby, make some undead friends…people other than John.”

  Amy pitches a glass of water in his face. He turns around, calm, walking off. “You can’t baby him forever. He has to grow up,” he says.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  I hate this guy. If he wasn’t the leader of the 9th branch, I’d give him a taste of my fist. Amy takes me to another room. A man with frosty blue skin and a receding hairline is stamping out a slip with the ZAS’s logo. It’s Val. He’s part of the regulatory committee.

  He tells the zombie in front of him that my uncle has to approve of it first since he’s from his district. “Be back by 8 pm,” he says.

  “Why?” the zombie asks.

  Val turns on the TV. It’s just a compilation of clips of zombies staying out late. One clip shows a guy dancing with the living. It hits eight pm and he’s a pile of ash. The partygoers are at a loss for words while the priest sweeps up the man’s remains.

  A treasure chest, filled to the brim with gold coins and jewelry, sits next to Val. As he turns his attention to Amy, I grab a handful of gold coins. He snatches them away as his eyes glow red, almost possessed. “Leave my treasure.”

  Val’s unearthly voice sends shivers down my spine.

  He returns to normal, a bit embarrassed about what he’s done. “Got me again, Rig.”

  “How hard is it to say Ray?” I said, pulling my afro.

  Val’s a Dragur. Unlike me, and most other zombies, Val is a supernatural class zombie. In other words, magic or the occult allowed him to come back instead of the natural way of emerging from the dirt like most zombies. Lucky for him, the rules that affect us don’t really apply to him. Well, most of them, anyway.

  Val points at a seat. I sit down as he questions me for an hour about why I hate being dead for the thousandth time. He gives up, seeing I’m not buying it. He sighs, pinching his forehead. “Look, Ray,” he says. “I know you’re still getting used to this, trust me, I was the same way. Worse.”

  I can’t imagine that since Val is a pretty cool guy, as long you don’t touch his treasure chest.

  “I’m going to find the Casket, see my parents, and say goodbye to this place,” I say smiling.

  “Like your enthusiasm, but that’s not an option,” he says.

  I pull a paper from my shirt. It’s a picture of Jamal standing next to the Casket. “It’s not like it’s impossible, so why do we give up?” I ask.

  Amy signals for me to follow her. Val joins me as we all go to her office. It’s filled with all sorts of objects; swords, guns, and posters of infamous zombies and living people during the Casket Run. I see undead and living adventurers like Tony Passion, Jamal End, and the two-horned gashadokuro, Clark Ashura to name a few. Even Val’s up there? He was part of the Casket Run? He even has his own ZAS wanted poster!

  “That’s so awesome,” I say, looking at him like he’s the pinnacle of cool.

  “He was on our radar for all sorts of crimes,” Amy says, smiling.

  Val clears his throat. “Who I was isn’t important. I did things, not very nice things before I changed.”

  So Val went from one of ZAS’s most wanted to a pencil-pushing drone. That’s a letdown.

  Amy slides her finger across photos and articles. “All of these people, including Val, tried to become living again. They traveled the world looking for the Casket. Many of them, living and dead are immortalized in the room as well as all over Zombie World and the land of the living.”

  “But what happened?” I asked.

  Amy and Val sigh. Val looks distraught.

  “Their hopes and dreams were crushed,” Amy says. “They weren’t the only ones looking for it. As fights broke out, rival factions, groups, organizations took each other out. It was total chaos. Before long, only a few made it out unscathed. Others still ride from the infamy 10 years ago, while guys like Val tell old tales to relive their glory days.”

  Val gives an upset look as the skies turn black from his presence. “Well, thanks for that wonderful description, Amy,” he says sarcastically.

  Amy pats my head gently, hoping it sunk in. “Ray, stick with the program,” she says. “You’ll be safer here. Trust me, I know how you feel. I got family too, but there’s a lot to offer here. You’ve just got to look around.”

  If Val couldn’t get the Casket, what chance do I have?

  I leave, heading to the sandy shore. The ocean is crystal clear; the sky is as blue as ever. Even the plants look greener and livelier than they ever have. It’s just a distraction from the one fact: I won’t ever have a normal life again. There’s still the curfew, rotting flesh, and the fact that I can’t look mom and dad in the eye again. I look up into the sky with malice, shaking my fist. “I hate this place!” I shout, hoping someone can hear me.

  I haven’t been this broken since I was killed. My last thoughts as the driver came to see me were I don’t want to die. Mom. Dad. Save me. I was scared. I didn’t know if heaven or the bad place existed, all I knew was that I didn’t want to die. I remember Uncle Elijah told me I could never see them again. I cried for months. Why do these rules exist? They’re stupid.

  The only good thing is my immunity to salt. I think I know why, but…wait. Am I seeing things? I take out my binoculars to be sure. It’s a zombie. He’s round, wearing a Hawaiian shirt, sandals, and shorts. He’s holding someone by a string and it looks like they’re floating. It’s Naomi!