monstrosities that don’t deserve to live. They carry parasites that threaten the safety of our world. They have imagination which perverts their minds.”
“And why must they be killed?”
“Because they’re monstrosities. They carry parasites that—”
“Yes, yes, I know all about the Hunter Code. But forget all of that. Just tell me this. Why must the living be killed?”
“Because”—glancing at Norman for help—“they’re evil?”
This time Albert’s smile wasn’t so wide. He took a sip of the coffee from the holder on his wheelchair, placed it on the desk, and folded his hands again.
“Conrad, all your existence you’ve been taught the evilness of the living. But what if I were to tell you that the living wasn’t really so evil? That, for the most part, they are just like you and me. What would you say?”
“Why am I here?”
“You are here, Conrad, because you hesitated in killing a zombie. You are here because a number of your men can’t trust you anymore.” Albert paused. “But you are also here because you have proven yourself a great Hunter. Like your father, you live by the Hunter Code, you know how to keep a secret, and the reason you became a Hunter in the first place—at least from my understanding—is that you want to uphold the safety and protection of our humanity. Am I right?”
All of that wasn’t quite true—Conrad had never really had a choice in the matter, it had just been his station in existence and that was what he had followed—but he nodded anyway.
“You are here,” Albert said, “because we need more and more people we can trust. Despite what the Government says, our existence is in peril. Every year more and more people expire. Decades ago a dead lasted until they were about seventy. Now nobody passes beyond sixty, and it’s believed that in another year or so that number will be down to fifty-five. Do you see, Conrad? Do you see that something needs to be done to help keep us together?”
Conrad didn’t see everything, but he saw enough. He shifted again in his seat, leaned forward, and said, “So you’re the Director of Living Intelligence, where you study zombies.”
Albert gave Norman the same approving smile. “I think he’s getting it.”
“You are committing treason against the Government.”
The scientist’s smile faded.
“You are spreading zombie propaganda like the rest of the crazy pro-living extremists all over this world.”
Albert said, “Conrad, wait a minute.”
Conrad rose to his feet. “You’re not trying to better this world.” He took a step toward the scientist’s desk. “You’re trying to destroy it.”
Albert’s black eyes were wide. He opened his mouth, tried to speak, looked at Norman for help.
“ You are what’s wrong with this world.” Conrad placed his hands on the desktop, leaned down close to the scientist’s face. “You scientists and your—”
“That’s enough,” Norman said. He too had risen to his feet. “Conrad, sit down.”
Conrad remained standing, glaring back down into the scientist’s wide black eyes.
“That’s an order.”
Conrad stood up straight, took a step back to his seat, sat down.
“Albert,” Norman said, “would you please give us a moment? Afterward we’ll take him to meet Gabriel.”
Once the scientist had left—ignoring Conrad’s glare as he maneuvered his wheelchair from behind his desk, past the two men, and out of his office—Norman turned to find Conrad glaring back at him, shaking his head.
“What’s going on here?”
“Conrad.”
“Just what the fuck is all of this?”
“Conrad, settle down.”
“Are you a traitor just like him? Do you actually believe in the shit he was saying?”
Norman stepped in even closer, pointed his finger right at Conrad’s face. “I am still your superior officer and I will not be talked to like this. Do you hear me?”
Conrad only stared back at him, at the tip of the old captain’s finger. For a moment
“And why must they be killed?”
“Because they’re monstrosities. They carry parasites that—”
“Yes, yes, I know all about the Hunter Code. But forget all of that. Just tell me this. Why must the living be killed?”
“Because”—glancing at Norman for help—“they’re evil?”
This time Albert’s smile wasn’t so wide. He took a sip of the coffee from the holder on his wheelchair, placed it on the desk, and folded his hands again.
“Conrad, all your existence you’ve been taught the evilness of the living. But what if I were to tell you that the living wasn’t really so evil? That, for the most part, they are just like you and me. What would you say?”
“Why am I here?”
“You are here, Conrad, because you hesitated in killing a zombie. You are here because a number of your men can’t trust you anymore.” Albert paused. “But you are also here because you have proven yourself a great Hunter. Like your father, you live by the Hunter Code, you know how to keep a secret, and the reason you became a Hunter in the first place—at least from my understanding—is that you want to uphold the safety and protection of our humanity. Am I right?”
All of that wasn’t quite true—Conrad had never really had a choice in the matter, it had just been his station in existence and that was what he had followed—but he nodded anyway.
“You are here,” Albert said, “because we need more and more people we can trust. Despite what the Government says, our existence is in peril. Every year more and more people expire. Decades ago a dead lasted until they were about seventy. Now nobody passes beyond sixty, and it’s believed that in another year or so that number will be down to fifty-five. Do you see, Conrad? Do you see that something needs to be done to help keep us together?”
Conrad didn’t see everything, but he saw enough. He shifted again in his seat, leaned forward, and said, “So you’re the Director of Living Intelligence, where you study zombies.”
Albert gave Norman the same approving smile. “I think he’s getting it.”
“You are committing treason against the Government.”
The scientist’s smile faded.
“You are spreading zombie propaganda like the rest of the crazy pro-living extremists all over this world.”
Albert said, “Conrad, wait a minute.”
Conrad rose to his feet. “You’re not trying to better this world.” He took a step toward the scientist’s desk. “You’re trying to destroy it.”
Albert’s black eyes were wide. He opened his mouth, tried to speak, looked at Norman for help.
“ You are what’s wrong with this world.” Conrad placed his hands on the desktop, leaned down close to the scientist’s face. “You scientists and your—”
“That’s enough,” Norman said. He too had risen to his feet. “Conrad, sit down.”
Conrad remained standing, glaring back down into the scientist’s wide black eyes.
“That’s an order.”
Conrad stood up straight, took a step back to his seat, sat down.
“Albert,” Norman said, “would you please give us a moment? Afterward we’ll take him to meet Gabriel.”
Once the scientist had left—ignoring Conrad’s glare as he maneuvered his wheelchair from behind his desk, past the two men, and out of his office—Norman turned to find Conrad glaring back at him, shaking his head.
“What’s going on here?”
“Conrad.”
“Just what the fuck is all of this?”
“Conrad, settle down.”
“Are you a traitor just like him? Do you actually believe in the shit he was saying?”
Norman stepped in even closer, pointed his finger right at Conrad’s face. “I am still your superior officer and I will not be talked to like this. Do you hear me?”
Conrad only stared back at him, at the tip of the old captain’s finger. For a moment
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