Servant of the Undead

"Wipe that look off your face."

Rachelle interrupted Hayden with bye now and clicked off. He slipped his phone into his pocket. Overheard, the sun slid behind a cloud and the street dimmed. Off to the west, a new bank of clouds hung in the sky, the edges an ashy gray, the centers dark. More snow. A lot more. A blue pickup passed, its tires making a hushed rumble as it turned away and headed toward the river. 

A yellow Brookline Cab Company van sat at the corner, its light on, a stream of exhaust chugging out the back. The thin trail of the cabbie's cigarette dangling out the open driver's side window spiraled up toward the darkening sky. The cabbie turned, catching Hayden's gaze as he took a long draw. The man didn't look away as he flicked the butt out onto the street. The window went up and the van rumbled away.

Hayden pushed away from the wall. When he reached his place, he scanned the rooftops and checked under the eaves. Empty. He jogged up the steps, swung open the door. Nothing. He wasn't dumb enough to think she wasn't around. He could sense her, feel her deep inside his body, thrumming in his blood. She would show up and there was nothing he could do to stop it. The best he could hope for was to be ready, brace himself for her effect on him and, most of all, keep Rachelle uninvolved.

Once he reached the top landing, he paused to slide his feet out of his snow-covered boots and set them by the wall. He dug out his keys and reached forward to put the key in the lock, but the door swung open slightly, enough for him to see the outline of Rachelle's body. No fur coat this time. She was wearing a ratty Boston College sweatshirt, jeans and red wool socks.

She swung the door open, grabbed his arm and pulled him in. He stumbled, his stocking feet sliding on the wood floors. "Surprise, your friend from work was looking for you."

"Hey there, Hayden."

Mattie. On his couch, smug as ever. Everything about her was the same, except for the addition of a black leather jacket, zipped up high, completely covering her breasts.

"Wipe that look off your face." She leaned back, arching her back as she crossed her bare legs. "I didn't break in or anything. Your girlfriend found me sitting on the steps. She's a sweetie, so she let me in. If it weren't for her, I might be hiding under an eave, you know, just trying to keep warm." She slid a smile over at Rachelle. "Your girl and I have been getting acquainted and I've been filling her in on everything."

Hayden pulled in a breath and the scent—icy, metallic, unavoidable—rippled through him, nearly knocking him off balance.

"Why didn't you tell me you were going to keep working on the zombie stuff?" Rachelle swept around the room to stand next to the couch, two feet from Mattie. "It sounds awesome."

"I—I—"

Mattie cocked her head and ran her palm down her leg. "Did Bob tell you to keep it a secret?"

Hayden turned away from them, using the time it took to set down his book bag and take off his coat to get himself together.

"I can't believe you didn't tell Rachelle anything at all about our research," Mattie said.

"Our research?"

Rachelle came around to Hayden's side. "Mattie told me some about it, it's, it's—"

"Sexy," Mattie cut in, stretching out the word with a low husky growl.

Rachelle pulled on the hem of her sweatshirt as she glanced at Mattie. "That too, for sure. I was going to say, kind of creepy." She glanced at Mattie. "But in a fun way."

Hayden dropped into the chair across from the couch. "Creepy but fun?"

Mattie pointed a pale finger at Hayden. "I found one of those zombie tribes you were telling me about. Well, actually, I didn't find it, so I haven't seen it yet, but someone I know—and trust—told me about it. He saw it." She dug into her coat pocket and pulled out a wadded-up sheet of brown paper that looked like a piece of a brown grocery bag. She flattened it against her knees. "A guy named Matthew gave this to me. We should go check it out."