Zombies Don't Forgive by Rusty Fischer

Author:Rusty Fischer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Medallion Press
Published: 2013-03-26T16:00:00+00:00

15

Teeth Time

Teeth Time is like a giant pool. Metal stands surround it, and one of those movie theater ropes zigs and zags to keep the guests’ lines from getting too chaotic. A small booth has an empty cash register and a sign: Shark Chow: $25. It sounds steep, but that includes 15 minutes in a shark cage where, next to a certified dive instructor, kiddies and grownups alike can feed real, live sharks.

The cage is empty. I’d hoped Stamp might be there, safe, even if submerged and surrounded by sharks. Sharks who couldn’t get to him.

The pool itself is alive with activity, gray water rippling and bits of fabric and worse clinging to the white-capped waves.

Fins puncture the surface of the saltwater tank, making it hard to see Stamp through the ripples and the black goop that is zombie blood. But there he is, finally, secured to the bottom of the shark tank with what look like cinder blocks and bike chains.

It’s not being underwater that’s threatening him. We don’t need to breathe, so big whoop. It’s the damn sharks circling him, some close, some not so close, all interested. They are sleek and slippery and brown or gray. They’re not big, like movie sharks, but their teeth are.

I can see the black-and-white stripes of Stamp’s hoodie and the saucers of his eyes as his mouth moves and nothing, not even bubbles, comes out.

I crumple beside the tank, looking for an opening, letting my dolphin statuette clatter to the wet concrete. It’s no use now. You can’t stab a shark with that and watch it die. They’re like the Living Dead but not actually.

Six sharks circle Stamp, their fins slippery, their jaws chomping. And then I notice why. There are parts of Stamp inside.

“Dane,” I shout helplessly even though he’s kneeling right next to me. Suddenly I’m kicking off my shoes. I don’t know why I do that except it’s what you do when you go swimming, right? I’m hysterical, shouting as I leap toward the water.

Rough hands snatch me back before I can even get wet, then toss me 10 feet onto the concrete.

I rush back, full steam.

Dane literally pile drives me into the ground. “Stop! Maddy. Back. Off.”

“We can’t let him die like that.” I shove with all my might and manage, with two knees and one well-placed elbow, to get Dane off me.

“We have to,” he says from behind.

Something clatters to the ground.

I look closely to see Dane grabbing a copper stake from the rubber handle end, where it’s safe for him to touch.

“W-w-where did that come from?” I stumble toward the shark tank.

“I always keep one handy, Maddy.” He hoists it high.

Now it’s serious. One touch from the copper business end, and that’s it. It’s lights out, Maddy. And I can’t have that. I need to get in that water and tear those sharks in half. He has to understand that.

“Dane, just, it’s my choice. You couldn’t control Stamp. You can’t control me!”

“No,” he says as he inches toward the edge of the tank.

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