Lights, Camera, Zombies by Kiernan Kelly

Author:Kiernan Kelly
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Torquere Press
Published: 2013-05-11T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four

Two months later, we were a couple. Three months later, we were talking about moving in together. I was against the idea, although not for the reason you might surmise. I wanted nothing more than to shuck my rat’s nest and move into Dex’s fabulous antebellum apartment, but I knew it would be too dangerous for us. Although our feelings for one another continued to develop, and hovered at that elusive, ethereal line in the sand called love, out of necessity we kept our relationship on the down-low. Dex was still passing for a breather, and we couldn’t risk anyone thinking a lifer and a zombie had something going on, or that Dex was only posing as a lifer. Neither of us was very keen on the idea of spending any time in jail. We compromised by exchanging house keys.

We didn’t have the opportunity to work together again until today, and we were both tiptoeing around the set, trying to pretend we didn’t know each other. We didn’t want to give anyone the slightest inkling that we were more than merely passing acquaintances. It was difficult at best, and sucked big, fat, hairy monkey balls at the worst.

I’d spent the night at Dex’s. As usual, Dex did my makeup before we left the apartment so that I’d looked properly zombie-esque by the time I arrived on set. I took off first on the Vespa, and he followed in his Chevy a few minutes later. We parked in different areas of the lot, we made sure we walked onto the set separately, and didn’t pass more than a word or two between us all day. Those few words we did exchange were spoken only while I was sitting in Dex’s chair as he pretended to add more makeup to my already prosthetic-heavy skin.

I was just stepping out of the makeup trailer when the assistant director waved at me.

“You, there. Zombie. Follow me. Mr. Granger needs a deadie onset.”

I ground my teeth. Deadie. I hated that term. It was demeaning, and sounded like what you’d get if Disney made zombies. Still, work was work, and I knew I was lucky to have gotten the job. I did what I was told. “Yes, sir.” I trotted after him.

I noticed people watching me out of the corner of their eyes as I passed, and their attention was making me nervous. Usually, zombies functioned below the radar of the breathers onset. We were like props to them -- mere window dressing, no more alive than plastic manikins. They knew we were there, used us as needed, and never gave us a second thought afterward. To have them surreptitiously watching me gave me the creeps. I could feel their gazes burning holes in my back even after I walked by.

Granger was having an argument with his assistant when I arrived at the hot set. I didn’t want to eavesdrop, but that was practically impossible considering how he was screaming through his megaphone.

I was thinking, judging

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