Zombies in Love by Fleischer Nora

Author:Fleischer, Nora [Fleischer, Nora]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-09-22T07:00:00+00:00

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Why didn’t I stay at Mankato State? wondered David Leschke as he scanned the list of names carved into the slate walls lining the Hall of the Dead. And there it was.

DAVID LESCHKE.

He’d heard about this before. How did the Board of Overseers manage to have your name, your own name engraved on a wall that had apparently stood, unchanged, for the past hundred and fifty years? One of the many things he found unpleasant and disorienting about Winthrop-- its apparent existence outside the world of normal scientific laws. He wished he'd known about it before he decided to come, but you couldn't turn down Winthrop, could you?

He touched the name and the letters melted under his fingertips to nothingness. To his left, another slate panel shifted open. Behind it was the iron cage of an old-fashioned elevator. The elevator shook slightly when he stepped into it, and he closed the cage behind himself. There was no button, and the elevator sat in place for a moment while David wondered whether he should just open the cage and get out. Then, with a jolting lurch, he rattled upwards.

Up was good. He'd heard some wild stories about what was lying under the tower of Memorial Hall, and he was glad he wasn't going to find out personally.

At least, not yet.

The elevator doors opened on a scene of unbelievable masculine plushness. The walls were paneled in some rare wood that Prof. Leschke could not identify, and the floor was marble, but covered in an enormous antique Oriental rug. Taxidermided animals lined the walls-- and every one that Leschke recognized was extinct. (Where did you even get a taxidermied dodo bird?) Seven portly, middle-aged men sat in a circle of club chairs. Whenever one set an empty drink on the table by his side, a white-jacketed waiter instantly replaced it with a full one.

They had reserved another club chair for David, and it was only after he sat down that he realized that it was somewhat smaller than those belonging to the others.

They'd thought of everything, before he even knew it was time to stage a counterattack. They'd had so much more practice than he had.

The man in the center chair spoke. “So glad you could join us, Prof. Leschke. You may call me Mr. Dudley. I speak for the Board of Overseers. Would you care for a drink?”

Anything to delay this discussion. “Yes, all right.”

A servant-- where had he come from?-- pressed a tumbler of scotch on the rocks into David's hand. It was only then that he realized that, unlike the members of the Board, he hadn’t been given a table for his drink. He held the glass awkwardly on his leg, feeling the condensation run through his pants, leaving a dark circle.

"You will grant me the old man's privilege of telling the story slowly, and with a discursion or two," said Mr. Dudley. "This is an ancient university, professor-- more ancient than our young nation, and in many ways, far older than that.

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