Ex-Isle by Peter Clines (electronic reader TXT) 📕

She’d never been shot in the head. If she had, she didn’t remember it. She wasn’t sure if it would hurt her or not. It would probably put her down, but for how long?

Alice batted Madelyn’s left arm up. She grabbed the wrist and twisted the arm back and forth. She pinched the flesh once or twice at a few points. It wasn’t hard enough to be malicious or soft enough to be concerned. Then she did the same with the other arm. She pried Madelyn’s fingers wide apart and examined the skin between them.

“I don’t see any bites on it,” said Alice. She gave a quick glance over her shoulder to one of the two guards. Both of them had rifles aimed at Madelyn. One of them, the female guard, didn’t look much older than her.

“Because I haven’t been bitten,” Madelyn said.

“Jesus, it almost sounds like it’s alive,” the younger guard mumbled. She had dirty blond hair like St. George and a sharp chin.

“It might be one of those automatic things,” said the man. He had a thick, cowboy-type mustache that spilled over the edges of his mouth. “Maybe enough of its brain’s still active and it’s just spitting out words.”

“You’re talking about yourself,” said Alice.

Madelyn snickered and smiled. As soon as her lips pulled away from teeth, Alice stepped back. Three weapons rose to point at the Corpse Girl.

“Hey,” said Madelyn, “just laughing. You made a funny.”

“Mouth shut,” the cowboy said.

She thought about banging her teeth together, just to see if he flinched, but he looked a little too trigger-happy as it was.

The pistol went back up to Madelyn’s head. “Foot up.”

“What?”

“Lift your left foot.”

Madelyn brought her knee up and wobbled. Alice yanked the foot up and twisted it side to side. The Corpse Girl flailed at the air, reached for Alice’s shoulder, and the shotguns loomed in her face.

“Gimme a break,” she said. “She’s pulling on my foot.”

“Don’t,” said the female guard, “move.”

Madelyn looked down at the leathery woman. The eyes looking over the pistol were cold. They could’ve been staring at a paper target or an old can or an ex-human, just something that needed to be shot.

She sighed and straightened up. Her arms went out for balance, and she tried to focus all her weight onto her other leg. “You people are jerks.”

“And stop looking at me,” said the cowboy. “Your eyes give me the creeps.”

Madelyn made a mental note to never blink when she looked at the cowboy-mustached man. She repeated the note silently to herself three times.

Alice bent the foot in different directions. She checked between toes, squeezed the calf, examined the knee. Then she made a few quick gestures and Madelyn switched feet, holding the other one out. More twisting, more prodding.

“Take the rest of it off,” said the leathery woman.

“What?”

“The rest of the clothes. Off.”

Madelyn looked at the guards on either side of her. “But he…I mean, shouldn’t this be a girls-only thing?”

Alice glared at her. “You hiding something?”

The sports bra and boxer briefs suddenly didn’t feel like enough clothing. “I just…do I really need to take everything off?”

“Why not?”

“I just…” She looked over at the jerk cowboy, and then back at Alice. She leaned forward and the other woman leaned back, but didn’t shift her feet. “I’ve never been naked before,” said Madelyn. “With a guy. In the same room.”

The leather-skinned woman rocked back on her heels and gazed at the dead teen. “Now,” she said. “Or we put you down.”

Madelyn stood there. She looked at Alice. She looked at the man with the cowboy mustache. She looked at the girl with the dirty blond hair. They all had flat expressions. None of them were looking at a teenage girl. They were all looking at an it. At a thing.

She sighed, pressed her lips together, and pulled her sports bra up. Her hair snagged, and for a moment she was caught in a tangle of arms and spandex wrapped around her head. She wiggled free and dropped the bra on the pile of clothes. She hooked her thumbs in the waistband of the boxer briefs and pushed them down until they dropped to her ankles.

Alice gestured for her to lift her arms again. Madelyn raised them out to her sides. She waited what felt like a cool and confident amount of time while the other woman examined her, then glanced at the cowboy.

He smirked. Madelyn stared at him, not blinking, until the smirk faded. At least she didn’t have to be the only uncomfortable one in the room.

“I can’t find a bite anywhere,” Alice said.

“I told you,” said Madelyn, “I haven’t been bitten. Exes can’t even see me.”

The leathery woman walked around to face her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Can I put my clothes back on?”

“Answer the question.”

Madelyn shifted her thighs, put one arm across her boobs, and waved the other one up and down herself, at all her pale skin. “They don’t see me as food because I’m like this. They just don’t notice me. Like, aggressively don’t notice me.”

“Because you’re one of them,” said the younger woman.

“I’m not an ex,” said Madelyn.

“But you’re dead.”

She took in a breath. “I’m dead, yeah,” she said, “but I’m not an ex.”

Alice still had her pistol up. “So what are you?”

“I’m kind of naked. Could I please put my clothes back on?”

“After you answer the question.” The leathery woman reached out with her foot and swept the pile of clothes away from the Corpse Girl. “If you’re not an ex, what are you?”

Madelyn watched the clothes retreat. Her other hand drifted down to settle between her legs and cover herself as best she could. “Nobody knows,” she said. “My dad was a scientist and I think he did something to me, but…I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

“Oh, real convenient,” said the cowboy.

“Not really, no.”

Alice frowned. “Did something to you how?”

“I don’t know,” said Madelyn. “When I was little he’d give me shots sometimes, or things in IV bags.