Night Things: The Monster Collection by West Terry M

Author:West, Terry M.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pleasant Storm Entertainment, Inc.
Published: 2016-10-07T04:00:00+00:00

3.

The Red Card

I felt like a ghost the next day. Working the graveyard shift was a schedule my body could never quite get used to. Whether at work or leisure, I always felt half there at best. It didn't help that I had agreed to come in early to keep an appointment with a newly turned zombie. I wasn't accustomed to seeing the day through my office window.

Michael Halfred had been a zombie for less than a month. He had just been released from the Z Station quarantine center on Staten Island and he had been deposited by bus at my shelter. He had been an accountant when he lived. He was a small unassuming man who was now lost and frightened.

"I have nothing," he said. He sat across from me in Goodwill clothes and his eyes barely rose above the floor as he talked. "When this happens, you lose everything."

"It's traumatic," I agreed. "Have you sent the papers to your family notifying them? You know you cannot approach anyone, friend or blood relation, until they have been served the notices, right?"

"Yes. I had one sent to my wife," Michael said, cleaning his horn-rimmed glasses with his sweatshirt. He didn't need them anymore, but many zombies held on to little things like that. "I sent it when I went to the new life center."

"Has she responded?" I asked.

Michael nodded. "She has declined my request. She wants nothing to do with me."

I nodded solemnly. "You have to respect that. Don't take it personally. It's hard for many people."

Michael took a moment before he continued. "It isn't fair. I am entitled to zero. Money. Property. Possessions. I can't even have the people I loved in my life unless they sign a piece of paper. And I can't have more than two of my own kind around me."

"Well, the scientists are saying that you can be around half a dozen before it gets dangerous. We are working to change that law. Did they issue you a red card?"

"Yeah, but I hate the picture on it. One eye was closed and my hair was a mess," Michael joked, despite his misery.

I gave him a soft chuckle of encouragement, but he bobbed back down in his depression.

"I thought about the R.I.P. process," Michael admitted dourly. "You can just walk and lights out."

"It's an option. But you should give yourself more time before doing that. You can bunk here tonight. We haven't booked any zombies today. I'll send you out tomorrow with as many rat stamps as I am allowed. You'll get through this, Michael."

I looked past Michael and noticed Abraham Janvier, the Medicine Man. My cheek still ached from the punch he had landed the night before. He stood on the sidewalk across the street. He had on his bomber jacket and dark shades. He stared at me through my window.

"Can you excuse me for a second?" I said, leaving Michael.

I walked out of my office and started across the street. A bus blared its horn and rumbled past me, hiding Abraham.

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