the zombie movie with his old friend. Kira’s body felt so warm and soft beneath the arm he’d draped around her shoulders. She had kissed him once already. Which had made him realize how much he’d been repressing his true feelings for her. Being her friend was nice. He’d derived a not insignificant degree of fulfillment just from that. She was the only truly close female friend he had. She’d shown him different ways of looking at things, viewpoints he didn’t get from his male acquaintances. And yet, some hidden part of him clearly had always desired more, something deeper.
The movie was starting. He could tell by the sudden swell of ominous music. But he couldn’t bring himself to watch the screen. He was entranced by Kira. Everything about her suddenly seemed so perfect. The soft, round shape of her face. The small nose. The slightly plump lips. Eyes so big he could imagine falling into them.
She sensed his scrutiny and looked at him.
There was a long moment of electric tension. Nothing was said, but much was communicated in that shared gaze.
Kira set the popcorn bucket on the sticky floor, then she seized a handful of his shirt and pulled him toward her.
Monroe kissed her.
Slid a hand up one of her bare thighs.
And then there was an abrupt crash of amplified thunder. Monroe jumped. There was a flash of bright light. Lightning? That had to be it. It was storming in the movie. The movie he didn’t give a shit about right now, a sentiment apparently shared by Kira. She gripped the hand on her thigh and urged it farther up her leg.
She moaned softly, whispered his name. It was a delicious thing to hear from her lips.
There was another bright flash.
And then another, brighter now, almost blinding. Monroe blinked and felt suddenly woozy. His head felt thick, his body distant, his thoughts fuzzy. The light flared brighter still, blotting out the world. For a long moment, he seemed to exist only in a sightless, soundless void, a place of pure white. He couldn’t even see his own body. A thought drifted out of the formless ether. He had died. Some sort of sudden attack. This was the afterlife.
The moment passed.
He heard another huge crash of thunder.
Then he felt rain pattering on his head.
He opened his eyes. Opened his mouth. Felt water touch his tongue. He was lying flat on his back on asphalt. He could feel its rough texture beneath him. He stared up at the sky, at the black clouds drifting high above him, moving fast and occasionally obscuring a luminous full moon.
He sat up, took a look around.
“What the fuck?”
He was in the parking lot outside the theater. He got to his feet and staggered around in a slow circle. The Sunshine 6 was dark. There were no movie titles on the white marquee. The only vehicle in sight was Kira’s silver Hyundai. Every other car, Jason’s Malibu included, had vanished.
His first thought was of Jason Tatum.
Motherfucker put something extra in the punch. Acid or some shit.
How else to explain this?
He heard the sound of an engine approaching. A huge vehicle of some sort came screeching into the parking lot. Its bright headlights pinned him as it rocketed toward him. He held up his hands against the glare and was able to discern the huge outline of a Hummer. It squealed to a stop six feet away and doors on both sides popped open. Two musclebound men clad all in black emerged.
One pointed at him. “Get him.”
Monroe gaped at them. “Whoa. Hey. Just hold the fuck on. I don’t know what the hell’s going on, but—”
Both men came at him.
Monroe belatedly realized that full-throttle retreat was by far his best option. He staggered backward a few steps, then turned to flee at full speed, but by then they had him. He struggled against them, but they held on to him with grips of iron. One of the men opened the Hummer’s back door and tossed him inside.
Kira was there.
A man with the coldest, blackest eyes he’d ever seen was seated next to her.
Kira
The movie was starting. He could tell by the sudden swell of ominous music. But he couldn’t bring himself to watch the screen. He was entranced by Kira. Everything about her suddenly seemed so perfect. The soft, round shape of her face. The small nose. The slightly plump lips. Eyes so big he could imagine falling into them.
She sensed his scrutiny and looked at him.
There was a long moment of electric tension. Nothing was said, but much was communicated in that shared gaze.
Kira set the popcorn bucket on the sticky floor, then she seized a handful of his shirt and pulled him toward her.
Monroe kissed her.
Slid a hand up one of her bare thighs.
And then there was an abrupt crash of amplified thunder. Monroe jumped. There was a flash of bright light. Lightning? That had to be it. It was storming in the movie. The movie he didn’t give a shit about right now, a sentiment apparently shared by Kira. She gripped the hand on her thigh and urged it farther up her leg.
She moaned softly, whispered his name. It was a delicious thing to hear from her lips.
There was another bright flash.
And then another, brighter now, almost blinding. Monroe blinked and felt suddenly woozy. His head felt thick, his body distant, his thoughts fuzzy. The light flared brighter still, blotting out the world. For a long moment, he seemed to exist only in a sightless, soundless void, a place of pure white. He couldn’t even see his own body. A thought drifted out of the formless ether. He had died. Some sort of sudden attack. This was the afterlife.
The moment passed.
He heard another huge crash of thunder.
Then he felt rain pattering on his head.
He opened his eyes. Opened his mouth. Felt water touch his tongue. He was lying flat on his back on asphalt. He could feel its rough texture beneath him. He stared up at the sky, at the black clouds drifting high above him, moving fast and occasionally obscuring a luminous full moon.
He sat up, took a look around.
“What the fuck?”
He was in the parking lot outside the theater. He got to his feet and staggered around in a slow circle. The Sunshine 6 was dark. There were no movie titles on the white marquee. The only vehicle in sight was Kira’s silver Hyundai. Every other car, Jason’s Malibu included, had vanished.
His first thought was of Jason Tatum.
Motherfucker put something extra in the punch. Acid or some shit.
How else to explain this?
He heard the sound of an engine approaching. A huge vehicle of some sort came screeching into the parking lot. Its bright headlights pinned him as it rocketed toward him. He held up his hands against the glare and was able to discern the huge outline of a Hummer. It squealed to a stop six feet away and doors on both sides popped open. Two musclebound men clad all in black emerged.
One pointed at him. “Get him.”
Monroe gaped at them. “Whoa. Hey. Just hold the fuck on. I don’t know what the hell’s going on, but—”
Both men came at him.
Monroe belatedly realized that full-throttle retreat was by far his best option. He staggered backward a few steps, then turned to flee at full speed, but by then they had him. He struggled against them, but they held on to him with grips of iron. One of the men opened the Hummer’s back door and tossed him inside.
Kira was there.
A man with the coldest, blackest eyes he’d ever seen was seated next to her.
Kira
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