Trake

  Chapter 6

  A dingy-looking child, face blackened with dirt like he works in a coal mine, gives me an unsettling scowl. He reaches out, sprinkling small, white granules into my hand. “I want to go home!” he says defiantly. Such a feisty spirit.

  “You were a street urchin, stealing to survive,” I tell him. “No family. No place to call home. I could take you back to the city, where those men you stole from would be real happy to see you.”

  The boy lowers his head, defeated, facing the cold-hard truth. He’s alone in this cruel world to fend for himself.

  “Don’t make me the bad guy,” I say, looking into his teary eyes. I give him a huge stack of cash. He stares in awe. He’s probably never seen so much in his life.

  “For me?” he smiles.

  I give him a wink as I walk away. He follows me. As I walk by, the harmonious sound of pickaxes and shovels carving earth puts me at ease. Machines roar, as walking meat sacks process these white flakes. Men, women, and children covered in rags and grime stop working, shooting me cold stares. One guy from the group has a bloodthirsty gaze. I continue on ahead. He lets out a bloodcurdling scream. In my periphery, I see his pickaxe nearing my skull. I’m a dead man, so I have nothing to lose.

  He stops in his tracks. He can’t move a muscle. A woman in a sparkling red Victorian dress and sunflower hat waves her hand. The man flies into the wall. He’s out cold.

  “Still having trouble with the mules?” Vivian asks.

  “Just another day in the office. Speaking of, where’s Junior?” I ask her. “I want to hear more of his Casket stories.” I push the kid I gave the money to through a small tunnel that leads him back home.

  I love that big heart of Junior’s. He reminds me of my uncle in Singapore, Hwang-Lee. When I was little, he’d tell me all these crazy tales, especially about the people who hold regret, The Dead Ones, or the politically correct designation, Necro Sapiens, aka zombies. I wish that wasn’t true, since I’m one of them.

  But Junior will be back soon, I’m sure of it. I enter my office, which is connected to the mining site and I’m met by a man with long bandages across his face and hanging from his shoulders. He’s wearing a stylish red waistcoat. He’s reading the books, making sure the measurements, money, and accounts match up. Outbreak has always been thorough. His sister in her jean jacket and skinny blue jeans knocks over my fifteenth-century sculpture. Susie is a klutz, but she’s good at other things.

  “That’s coming out of your check, Susie,” I say in Korean. I talk in my native language when I’m shocked or angry.

  She grumbles under her breath.

  These people here, Vivian, Outbreak, and Susie are my top executives, aka, the Feast of Crows. All I’m missing is Junior, Niles, and that... last one I hate him so much, I won’t even say his name. Junior’s probably having fun or something. Prometheus is on-site working on some projects for me, and then Niles is checking the inventory and doing business with our supplier, making sure he isn’t ripping me off. And that last one is at some shanty seaport town. I can’t stand him…Rhodes. He never takes work seriously and always thinks he’s better than us. Growing up in Singapore was simpler than running an entire mining operation.

  “Books are good,” Outbreak says.

  I slap him on the back for a job well done. His eyes shift to the right, somewhat concerned. “But…” he sighs. Outbreak has something on his mind. It must be important if he’s puzzled.

  “Come on, spit it out,” I say, hiding my worry behind a wide smile.

  “There were reports that two zombies from the Red Dawn faction found an Abiotic Channeler. Rumor has it she’s a young girl,” he tells me.

  Interesting. She’ll fetch a high price, but then again, if she’s a talented Channeler, she could have some use. She’s too valuable to sell off. Something tugs my shirt.

  “Daddy,” says a soft voice.

  It’s my doe-eyed, 6-year-old daughter, Bell, in her fabulous purple dress, with bandages over her eyes. I lift her in the air, swinging her around. I stop when I notice her soft, bright skin has more spots of grey. It’s getting worse, but at least her forehead still feels warm. She is my life, the only living person I don’t despise.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  I wish I could look into her wide, brown, innocent eyes, but I’d fade away if I did. I wouldn’t mind going that way. I take off her bandages and look into her adorable eyes.

  “Those aren’t yours, daddy,” she says, pointing at my eyes.

  I pop out my eye and give her a closer look. “Are you sure?”

  “You can’t trick me, daddy,” she says.

  I love these moments. I love this place, this town.

  My body begins to disintegrate. It’s because I’m breaking one of the golden rules of being a zombie… don’t look your loved ones in their eyes. I cover her eyes again with the bandages. My body returns to normal. And I just changed these borrowed eyes this morning.

  I guide Bell outside as zombies dance, drink, and shoot fireworks in the night sky. In their undead glory, they storm me, raising me and my daughter into the air, surfing us through the crowd. Bell is just as excited as the zombies.

  “Trake! Trake! Trake!” They continue to shout my name. Well, my American name, Don “Crown” S. Trake.

  “Seung-ho Cheongak,” says Susie, intentionally mispronouncing my name. She’s trying to be cute. Only Junior could call me by my native name, although he kept mispronouncing my name so much, his iteration stuck.

  The Dancing Flower trade has been wonderful for the city. To see their undead faces with such joy brings me to tears. But I need more manpower to harvest it. It’s usually around areas with a high salt concentration, so I had to think outside the box. Human labor, living people that is. Who in their right mind wants to be alive? If I was asked that eight years ago before my first death, I’d disagree. But now? If my arm comes off, stitch it on and it’s like new. Have vision problems? Change your eyes. Fewer fatigue toxins, work longer hours.

  But in truth, the living are cruel, especially Bureau Number 9, a subsection of ZAS responsible for documenting discoveries in Zombie World and sending them to the governments across the world, both living and dead. When I first arrived here, I was so lost and confused. The town I was assigned to taxed us to death, made ridiculous rules that were punished harshly if broken, and other things too horrifying to speak of. But when Junior arrived, he gave me the courage to fight back. We got rid of Bureau Number 9 and turned this place into a paradise.

  There are many places where ZAS doesn’t exert influence, but they’ve been expanding in the last eight years. But so is my city, Festive Moon, the Undead Eden.

  “Drink up, people! Celebrate our six years of freedom!” I shout, as the zombies finally put me and Bell down.

  “Seung-ho,” says a voice in the crowd.

  The giant crowd disperses, revealing a tall, strapping zombie, with a red mustache and long red hair. His Scottish accent is harsh to the ears. A piece of his right ear is missing. His sleeveless black shirt and black pants seem like they might explode with the effort to contain his compressed muscles. He’s Benjamin Kurtz, the leader of the Red Dawn. He’s in a foul mood as made clear by his wicked scowl.

  “Don’t you see we’re busy at the moment?” Outbreak says to Kurtz.

  Several of his men surround Outbreak. With a menacing glare from Kurtz, they stand down, returning to their leader.

  “It’s been a while, Outbreak.” Kurtz smiles. “Being dead suits you. Love the new look.”

  Outbreak storms Kurtz, ready for a fight. Is he crazy? He can’t use his ability here. It’ll be disastrous for the whole town.

  “Outbreak, don’t do it!” Susie exclaims, racing towards him. “Calm down, bro.” She grabs his shoulders, as her soft voice relaxes him. That’s a crisis averted. I tell Outbreak to cool off and get a drink.

  “What do you want?” I ask Kurtz.

  He shoves a phone to my face. It’s a picture of a satellite image. Looks like two objects burning into orbit.

  “I see you got a new hobby.” I chuckle, walking away.

  He turns me around. Vivian pushes several Red Dawn members back with a shockwave.

  “Stand back, Viv. I’m fine,” I say.

  “Satellite feeds captured my guys floating in space,” Kurtz says. “That’s them on the return trip.” He points at the two fireballs.

  “What’s that got to do with me?” I ask, shrugging my shoulders nonchalantly.

  “Only one guy I know can make people fly,” he says. “I’ll get to the point. Junior took off with my product…an Abiotic Channeler.”

  Well, this is wonderful. Junior is always dependable. When he’s not working, he just watches reruns of Survivor. Can’t wait to hear how he pulled this off. Susie and Vivian explain how Junior helped me survive and liberate Festive Moon. What a guy.

  “Well, if that’s all Kurtz, good day,” I say. “I’ll send flowers and pay for the processions. You know Junior’s a little extra.”

  His face twists in anger. It’s priceless. But surprisingly, he’s actually laughing. Did I miss something? I spot Outbreak stopping short of the bar staring at the jumbotron in the center of town. Everyone in Festive Moon does the same. Every resident is in shock. Some even break down into emotional outbursts. I look up. It can’t be. It’s Junior’s face, along with his Danger rank. It’s pretty high. That’s about right for someone from the Casket Run. Under it says “deceased.” My heart drops. I fall to the ground, beating the earth. He was like a father to me. He showed me how to survive in this purgatory.

  “Did you have something to do with this!?” I shout at Kurtz.

  He gives me a smug grin. “As much as I’d love to take the credit, it wasn’t me. You got a lot of enemies, so narrow it down.”

  He and his posse leave town. Vivian consoles the grieving citizens, while Outbreak races towards me and Susie.

  “It can’t be,” Susie whimpers.

  I hold her as she cries on my shoulder. I pat her head, not sure what to say. Bell is crying too. I tell them it’s okay.

  “It’s not okay, Trake,” says Outbreak, with an inquisitive glance. “If we find the girl, we find Junior’s killer. But suppose he was killed not by a rival faction, or some rando on the street.”

  It’s my worst fear.

  “ZAS?” I shudder.

  Susie wipes her tears. “That’s unlikely.”

  I stomp my foot on the ground. “It doesn’t matter. Outbreak, Susie, find the girl. Anyone who gets in your way, crush them.”

  My anger is kindled so much that an aura of green energy surrounding me spreads through the entire town. The city rumbles and shakes. My daughter’s innocent gaze calms me down. No one kills my people and gets away with it. No one.