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From behind her head, she heard him make a surprised noise, then he shifted, putting his arm around her shoulders. Charlie smiled back with a grim determination, and settled back in her seat, then scooted over until her shoulder was pressed against his. John looked up at her with a smile as she sat down, but didn’t say anything. “I don’t believe you,” she said to the phone on the wall.īack in the theater, her eyes took a moment to adjust as she inched along the back row toward her seat, careful not to make noise. “Okay.” Charlie hung up the phone before he could say good-bye. “I mean, I’ll let you know when we find something.” Anything else you found, anything you know about the man-the victim.” Please, if there’s anything else you know. “Is there anything else you can tell me? I know it’s confidential, but you’ve brought me in this far. “Oh.” Burke let the silence stretch between them, and Charlie finally broke it. “Everything is okay, I just wanted to see if you’ve found anything else.” “Charlie? What’s wrong?” He was instantly alert Charlie could picture him leaping to his feet, ready to run. She dialed carefully, pausing between numbers to check the card again, as if the writing might have changed since she looked.
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He pointed silently to his right, and Charlie went, fishing in her pocket for a quarter, and for Chief Burke’s card. There was a young man at the concession stand, and she asked him if the place had a pay phone. She arrived at the swinging theater doors and stopped-she couldn’t do it. There must be some clue of what carried him into that field, and where it came from.Ĭharlie shivered. But this didn’t feel like a dream.Ĭharlie jostled her thoughts back to the present, where even the crime scene of a gruesome murder seemed like a safer place to keep them. They were only slightly less common than dreams of showing up to class naked, plummeting from a great height, or having your teeth all suddenly fall out. Dreams about being trapped are common, she reminded herself. On the sidewalk, she took a deep breath and felt an intense relief at the wash of fresh air. She made her way out of the row, through the lobby, and out the door. “I’ll be right back,” she told John, and got up without waiting for him to respond. She’d been irritated by the movie, now she was irritated by the conversation she herself had introduced. “You know, like the idea that you eat your enemy’s heart to gain their power? Maybe the zombie eats its enemy’s brain to gain its … central nervous system?” He glanced at Charlie, but she was only half listening. “Maybe it’s symbolic,” John suggested, eager to engage, however odd the conversation. It walked into that field of its own accord. He didn’t walk into that field the suit did. That man wouldn’t have been able to walk on his own in a suit so oversized.
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But why would they want to eat brains? It doesn’t make sense.” If there’s a functioning central nervous system, which has somehow decayed to the point that movement and thought are possible, but severely hindered, fine. Zombies don’t make sense if they’re dead, the central nervous system is shot, and they can’t do any of this. “This doesn’t make sense,” Charlie muttered, mostly to herself.Ĭharlie didn’t move, but she repeated herself. Now there were people running, the zombies lurching after them. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.Ĭharlie stared straight ahead. “I’m fine,” she whispered, and gestured to the screen. She sat back, setting her shoes back on the floor. She realized she’d pulled her feet up on the chair and was hugging her knees to her chest.