with terror. The voice in the back of his mind noted that the same thing applied to what he had read about vampires.
Everett took a calming breath. He pulled his lips up in a small, tight smile that didn’t show his teeth.
“Hello, Monique. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said carefully.
The zombie let out a breathy moan and she shuffled past Everett without looking at him. He didn’t turn at the sigh of relief the doctor didn’t quite stifle. When Dr. Transton followed Monique, Everett fell in behind him. The doctor pushed the up button on the elevator, waited until the zombie made her slow way inside, and pushed the button for floor thirty-three.
The smell of decay that filled the elevator made it hard to breathe. Everett was about to hold his nose when he noticed the doctor merely subtly breathing through his mouth. Determined to keep making strides with Dr. Transton, Everett did the same. It didn’t do much to lessen the stench, but kept him from passing out before the door opened again.
Monique gave a quiet moan and shuffled out. Her arm hit on the side of the elevator door, but she didn’t appear to feel it. The full force of her very meager attention was on the pair of glass doors set in a glass wall halfway across the room. Everett looked up to find more glass above them. All of the walls to the doors were made of glass squares, rectangles, triangles, and octagons. The effect was a wash of pale radiance from the half moon and starlight above.
A light shot across the glass, then another. Everett stared in awe at the tiny shooting stars trailing from one pane of glass to the other. It was beautiful, but didn’t make sense.
“How does the glass do that?” he asked.
“Magic,” Dr. Transton replied, his attention on the zombie.
“Magic?” Everett repeated doubtfully. “Magic isn’t real.”
“Neither are vampires,” the doctor said. Before Everett could reply, Dr. Transton held up a hand. “Patience, Everett. Look.”
Everett followed his gaze.
Monique had reached the glass doors. They slid open automatically. The instant the undiluted moonlight touched her skin, Monique changed. It wasn’t as though her rotten skin and appearance disappeared, but another image settled over her. Her blonde hair shimmered, her gray skin glowed, and her gaze softened with her smile. It was as if, with the moonlight, Everett was able to see Monique as she had been before she was turned into a zombie.
She put out her hands, her arms bending at the elbows as they hadn’t been able to do inside. Monique lifted her chin and turned in a circle. The girl who had been a zombie danced in the light of the moon.
Everett barely dared to breathe for fear of breaking the spell. He swore he had never seen anything as beautiful as the girl who twirled and walked on her tiptoes, pirouetting in time to music only she could hear.
“That’s my little girl,” Dr. Transton said.
Everett glanced at him and saw tears brimming in the doctor’s eyes.
“What happened to her?” he asked.
Dr. Transton was quiet for so long Everett didn’t think he would answer. The doctor’s gaze remained on his daughter, following Monique’s graceful dance across the rooftop.
“Do you know how zombies are made?” the doctor finally asked.
It hadn’t been in Everett’s reading. He wished, not for the first time, that his father had been interested in studying monsters instead of plants and insects. It certainly would have made his life a lot easier. He shook his head.
Dr. Transton glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “A zombie is made when a vampire bites a human.”
The words hit Everett with the force of a battering ram. He didn’t know what to say or do. Memories swarmed. He saw a familiar face and heard a laugh. He shook his head and it drifted away. The emotions that rose with it refused to go away as easily.
“I know what you’ve probably heard in fairy tales, but this is the reality,” Dr. Transton said
Everett took a calming breath. He pulled his lips up in a small, tight smile that didn’t show his teeth.
“Hello, Monique. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said carefully.
The zombie let out a breathy moan and she shuffled past Everett without looking at him. He didn’t turn at the sigh of relief the doctor didn’t quite stifle. When Dr. Transton followed Monique, Everett fell in behind him. The doctor pushed the up button on the elevator, waited until the zombie made her slow way inside, and pushed the button for floor thirty-three.
The smell of decay that filled the elevator made it hard to breathe. Everett was about to hold his nose when he noticed the doctor merely subtly breathing through his mouth. Determined to keep making strides with Dr. Transton, Everett did the same. It didn’t do much to lessen the stench, but kept him from passing out before the door opened again.
Monique gave a quiet moan and shuffled out. Her arm hit on the side of the elevator door, but she didn’t appear to feel it. The full force of her very meager attention was on the pair of glass doors set in a glass wall halfway across the room. Everett looked up to find more glass above them. All of the walls to the doors were made of glass squares, rectangles, triangles, and octagons. The effect was a wash of pale radiance from the half moon and starlight above.
A light shot across the glass, then another. Everett stared in awe at the tiny shooting stars trailing from one pane of glass to the other. It was beautiful, but didn’t make sense.
“How does the glass do that?” he asked.
“Magic,” Dr. Transton replied, his attention on the zombie.
“Magic?” Everett repeated doubtfully. “Magic isn’t real.”
“Neither are vampires,” the doctor said. Before Everett could reply, Dr. Transton held up a hand. “Patience, Everett. Look.”
Everett followed his gaze.
Monique had reached the glass doors. They slid open automatically. The instant the undiluted moonlight touched her skin, Monique changed. It wasn’t as though her rotten skin and appearance disappeared, but another image settled over her. Her blonde hair shimmered, her gray skin glowed, and her gaze softened with her smile. It was as if, with the moonlight, Everett was able to see Monique as she had been before she was turned into a zombie.
She put out her hands, her arms bending at the elbows as they hadn’t been able to do inside. Monique lifted her chin and turned in a circle. The girl who had been a zombie danced in the light of the moon.
Everett barely dared to breathe for fear of breaking the spell. He swore he had never seen anything as beautiful as the girl who twirled and walked on her tiptoes, pirouetting in time to music only she could hear.
“That’s my little girl,” Dr. Transton said.
Everett glanced at him and saw tears brimming in the doctor’s eyes.
“What happened to her?” he asked.
Dr. Transton was quiet for so long Everett didn’t think he would answer. The doctor’s gaze remained on his daughter, following Monique’s graceful dance across the rooftop.
“Do you know how zombies are made?” the doctor finally asked.
It hadn’t been in Everett’s reading. He wished, not for the first time, that his father had been interested in studying monsters instead of plants and insects. It certainly would have made his life a lot easier. He shook his head.
Dr. Transton glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “A zombie is made when a vampire bites a human.”
The words hit Everett with the force of a battering ram. He didn’t know what to say or do. Memories swarmed. He saw a familiar face and heard a laugh. He shook his head and it drifted away. The emotions that rose with it refused to go away as easily.
“I know what you’ve probably heard in fairy tales, but this is the reality,” Dr. Transton said
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