He pushed down against the world and soared up into the air. The wind felt strange against his scalp, and it took him a moment to remember the new haircut.
Flying the three blocks south to the old Stage Four was excessive, but St. George still hadn’t gotten past the thrill of flight. He’d been able to glide for years, but it wasn’t until the war with the Seventeens and their undead army that he’d been able to make the leap, so to speak, to actual flight. The threat of losing everything they’d worked for, losing friends, and letting down the people who believed in him, had made something click. Now he could fly, and he was stronger than ever.
And the thought of losing Stealth, he admitted, had probably had something to do with it, too.
He shot into the sky, high enough that he could see the beach a dozen miles away and the Pacific Ocean and Catalina Island far off to the south. Stealth had sent Zzzap out there six months ago. The island’s little town, Avalon, was gone. About a thousand exes wandered the narrow streets and out into the hills. He stared out at the dead island and then dove back to the ground.
He landed outside Four. The air stank of ozone. Kids came here at night to watch their hands glow with static electricity. Four had been a stage once, back when the Mount was a film studio. They’d stripped out the sets and linked it to one of the nearby power houses with heavy cables once used by lighting crews.
The other end of those cables ran to the object at the center of Four. It was a set of three interlocking rings, each wrapped with copper wire. They formed a rough sphere that looked like a seven-foot gyroscope. Someone had dubbed it the electric chair while it was being built. The nickname had stuck.
Hovering inside the rings was the form of a man. It was a reversed silhouette, like looking at the sun through a man-shaped cutout. Arcs of energy shot from the brilliant figure to snap and pop against the copper-wrapped sphere. St. George could tell his friend was staring off into one of the stage’s empty corners.
Well, I’m still getting used to it, said Zzzap. His voice was somewhere between a kazoo and pure static, and it buzzed over the crackle of power. You have to admit, this isn’t exactly an everyday thing. And I say this as a guy who more or less turns into a small star.
As St. George approached, the gleaming silhouette turned in the air toward him.
Wow, said Zzzap. They really did a number on you.
“Who were you talking to?”
Nobody. The brilliant wraith shrugged and gestured around him. People. On the radio.
St. George nodded and ran his hand through the short strands of hair. “So, how’s it look?”
Zzzap tilted his head. You know what’s big after the Zombocalypse? Hats.
“Seriously.”
Remember when you were a little kid and your mom always made you get that page boy-looking haircut?
“How’d you know?”
It’s what every mom did.
“So it looks like that?”
Yeah, it’s a little worse, said Zzzap. It’s like a blind person tried to do a page boy with a pair of hedge clippers.
“Great.”
Zzzap shifted again. The rings crackled as he shed a few more kilowatts of power. You still heading out?
“Yeah. You still nervous?”
The wraith shrugged. It’s a big thing, he said. You and I have been over to the valley a few times but really no one’s gone there in almost two years. Hell, I think Danielle was the last one there when she came over with her Marines.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to call them ‘her Marines.’”
Whatever.
“We’ve got to go sometime,” said St. George. “We’ve cleaned out everything we can find on this side of the hills. Now it’s either the beach or the valley, and the valley’s got a lot more resources.”
I know. You have to admit, though, it’s just kind of weird. I’ve gotten used to the valley being ‘somewhere else,’ y’know?
He nodded. “There seems to be a lot of that going around,” he said. “We’re getting... insular, I guess. Is that the right word?”
Yeah.
“Plus I just had a talk with Billie about the Seventeens. We’ve got to start including them more, starting now. She’s going to have one of them come out with us.”
Really? Zzzap bowed his head for a moment. You sure you don’t want me coming out with you?
St. George shook his head. “We’ll be fine. This way you can keep Danielle powered up here and still make it out to us if anything goes wrong.”
Assuming you have time to set off a flare.
“If we don’t have time to set off a flare, there’s not much you’d be able to do anyway.” He held up his hand and counted off three fingers. “Remember, red is trouble, blue we need you but it’s not urgent, white means we’re spending the night over there.”
The wraith shuddered. Better you than me.
“Hey, it’s my last choice, too.”
*