Page 69 of 10 Things I Hate About Zombies

‘Winslow, I hate to do this as much as you hate me doing it, because God, the smell. But I just want to check on you. And check in about the rent. Okay?’ She turned to Nick, crossing the fingers on both hands. ‘Okay, going in. Cover me.’

‘Roger that.’ Nick positioned himself in the hallway like a soccer goalie.

Rolling her eyes, Zoey turned the doorknob and let the door swing open.

Nick just about retched. The smell was intense, even for a gamer. Dozens and dozens of empty soda bottles lined the walls, to the point that they had to be structural. The desk was a filthy pile of crumpled tissues and dirty plates with some sort of pinkish goo on them, and the armchair in the corner had more varieties of fungus growing than Nick’s greenhouse. Worse than that was the bed: it was foetid with sweat, the sheets just about black with who knew how many months of neglect. A window was open: on it sat a confused-looking pigeon busted in the act of building a nest.

This was the room of someone deep in the throes of depression.

‘What’s that?’ Nick pointed at a scribbled note on the desk. He didn’t dare get too close just in case he ended up with the plague.

BR … it read, or at least those were the first two letters. The rest was an unintelligible scrawl.

‘BRB?’ said Zoey. ‘That must be it. Winslow does mostly talk in 2002 L33T speak.’

‘Well, it’s better than the alternative,’ said Nick. The zombie alternative.

Zoey grimaced as she glanced around the room. ‘Either way, I think it’s time to start looking for a new roommate.’

18

Zoey

Disappearing cat and missing roommate aside, Zoey was delighted to be at the Portland Art Museum. She’d seen so many wonderful exhibits since she’d moved here: the LAIKA one, the Japanese-print one, the Guillermo del Toro Pinocchio one. She even allowed Nick to snap pictures of the two of them with the sculptures outside, feeling a light fizz of pride as these immediately ended up on the family text thread.

‘I love this place so much,’ she whispered, as she looped her arm through his and dragged him up the entrance ramp. ‘As much as the downtown library. As much as the rose garden. As much as Powell’s.’

Nick pressed a hand to her forehead. ‘Feeling okay in there? I don’t think I’ve seen you this effusive before.’

‘I’m a complicated woman,’ said Zoey. Well, it was mostly that the circumstances around her were complicated. But things were starting to feel less complicated. Like she could see the future. Grasp it, even. ‘Thank you for bringing me here,’ she added, softly.

He squeezed her hand. ‘Anytime, babe.’

With Alice padding beside them, they strolled through the cavernous rooms of the museum, pausing to drink in block and screen prints from around the world: vibrant Indian patterns made from wooden blocks, a huge orange floral mural from a Japanese artist, linocut and silkscreen pieces from local makers. Zoey’s heart sang as she found herself surrounded by thick paint textures and swirling ink patterns.

‘These are so gorgeous,’ she said, marvelling at a seascape with curling aqua waves being traversed by a bright orange ship.

Nick, meanwhile, was awed by a massive peacock that shimmered with blues, greens, and golds. ‘Reba would love this one. Or the wallpaper over there.’

‘I think that block-printing a room might possibly be less frustrating than hanging actual wallpaper,’ mused Zoey.

‘We can try it at the house if you want. My study is looking grim.’

Zoey considered this. ‘We could do a mushroom print.’

‘And if it looks terrible, we’ll just lock the door and throw away the key.’

‘That’s basically what I plan to do with Winslow’s room. Or just pretend I’m Ripley from Aliens and blowtorch the whole thing.’

‘Your landlord would definitely understand,’ said Nick.

Zoey nodded. ‘It’d be classed as a property improvement.’

They wandered through a room overhung by a series of huge, arching prints. The first was printed only with yellow, with a new colour added with each print. The final one was a glorious rainbow stippled with golds and silvers.

‘What if we kissed under the rainbow?’ said Nick, dipping his head to do just that.

Zoey rose up on her toes, losing herself in his touch. She could feel the heat crackling between them – so much so that she was half surprised the prints around them hadn’t caught fire.