The bride patted my face and said, “You’re adorable! My fiancé is Korean too,” then stumbled out. I was surprised she could tell I was Korean. Usually people assumed I was Chinese. Sometimes Japanese. Even kids at school who’d known me forever thought I was Chinese.
“Can I come out now?” a muffled voice cried out from the closet on the far wall.
“Uh, sure? Everyone’s gone.”
The door creaked open. I backed away as a mutilated female zombie wearing a crumpled witch hat stumbled out.
Chapter Two
Nate
There were entrails hanging out where her belly button should’ve been.
“I was starting to get a little claustrophobic.” The girl blinked rapidly, adjusting her eyes to the flickering radiant lights. “I’m Kate, the new ‘spooky seasonal feature’ they added last week.” She took one quick look at my Feed Me (Braaaains)! T-shirt and tattered jeans, then focused her gaze on my face.
My eyes and ears tuned into her every move, my whole body on high alert. I was trapped in a room with a zombie girl. All the other zombies I’d worked with were dudes. “I’m Nate.” I shrugged, trying not to cringe at our cutesy rhyming names, not quite sure why I was shrugging in the first place.
Everything on my body that could possibly sweat did. Instant oil slicks involuntarily formed on my palms, feet, and face T-zone, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to stop it.
Was it weird to think she was cute? She had shining brown eyes and a button nose that crinkled adorably each time she looked at the fluorescent lights. Well, as adorable as a zombified girl could be, with all that makeup, straggly hair, and fake wounds. Why did she take this “zombie girl in the closet” role? She could seriously star in commercials or something like that.
This girl was way out of my league, though. Out of my dimension, even. My heart pounded as my chest tightened, giving me the sensation that my body was trying to choke my heart out of my chest cavity. God, why was I so awkward around girls? And a zombie girl, no less.
Not knowing what else to do next, I extended my clammy, sweat-pooled hand, and we shook firmly, like we were coaches facing off in a football game.
“Nice to meet you, Nate,” she said, then stretched her arms high above her head. “That closet is way too small for someone my height. And I’m only five foot three and a half.” After hopping around on both feet, she added, “My feet are asleep!”
“So, you’re the new big finale, jumping out of the closet at the end? You’re here from now through Halloween, and then what—are you coming back for Thanksgiving and Hanukkah and Christmas?” I was torn between being ecstatic about her new role and being terrified, knowing she’d be hiding in the closet for fifty-nine minutes of each session, maybe listening to me give my opening spiel. Even with fifty-plus escape room games under my belt, my self-confidence shrank by the second at the mere thought of being in future sessions with this zombie girl.
“Yeah, I’m just a seasonal worker, not a year-rounder like you. Will work for food. Or brains,” she said, giving a nod toward my shirt. A boom of thunder rumbled and echoed through the building, taking me by surprise. Thunderstorms were a rarity in Seattle, something to do with the cool breeze on the Pacific Ocean. Something I didn’t really pay much attention to in junior high science class, but maybe should have.
“Hey, can you do me a favor?” she asked.
Gulping down my fear, I replied, “Depends. What do you need? If you need a ride home or something, then maybe?” My mom’s 2002 Honda was a busted piece of crap and shimmied at fifty-five miles per hour, its top speed, but it got the job done, driving from point A to point B. But if Kate wanted to borrow money, she was shit out of luck. All of my wages went toward my Xbox subscription, college fund, and savings for a business I’d launch in a few years. I had nothing to spare.
“I need you to tell me which black eye looks better.” She pointed double-finger guns at her face. “Left eye…or the right one? I’m trying to perfect my makeup artistry for work again tomorrow.” Damn, she was working a shift tomorrow, and unfortunately I wasn’t. My stomach twinged with disappointment. Or hunger. Maybe both.
“I—I—I like the one on the left. It gives your eye a gaunt, hollow look,” I said hesitantly as she raised an eyebrow at me.
She pulled a mirror from her purse and examined both eyes. “Interesting. I kind of like the other one. It looks more realistic to me. Like I’m not trying too hard to look dead, you know?”
What in the hell was she talking about? Both of her eyes were “dead”-looking. I’d worked at this zombie escape room job for a year. Read every zombie survival guide I could get my hands on. Watched every zombie movie and every episode of The Walking Dead more than once. I knew my zombie shit.
“Yeah, I agree,” I replied, and motioned for her to come with me to the employee lockers in the break room.
“So, actually, could I get a lift home maybe?” she asked as we opened our lockers. “I didn’t really think about how I’d look taking public transportation. And you know, the rain could make it all worse.” She removed her hat and smiled, revealing a fake missing tooth and bloody gums. I had to admit, she took her zombie job very seriously. Kate was convincingly, purposefully gross.
I grinned confidently while shutting my locker door, even though my heart was pounding and my sweatiness all over my body intensified. “Sure, my after-hours job is zombie rescue. I retrieve zombies and put them back in their habitat.”
She pulled her peacoat from her locker and put it on over her raggedy dress. “Great! There’s a Dick’s Hamburgers on the way to my house. I need food. I’ll buy you dinner and a milkshake if you want.”
When we got outside, rain assaulted us from every direction. We’d already had ten days of straight rain, not unusual for October in Seattle. And the seven-day forecast? Even more rain.
Kate studied the flyers on the corkboard next to the entrance while I locked up. She stared hard at the neon-green Zombiegeddon advertisement, examining every word. Zombiegeddon was a new zombie-themed survival competition with a huge cash prize. It was on the same day as my big-time cross-country meet a month away, so I hadn’t bothered to look into it more.
When we finally got to my car, I swiped my accordion folder of college financial aid applications off the front passenger seat and tossed it in the back. I handed Kate a wad of clean tissues from my pocket to mop up her runny makeup and also used some to wipe my forehead’s fountain of sweat.
As I turned the key in the ignition, I wondered, If we are eating hamburgers and it is her treat, does this count as a date?
Kate took a selfie just before wiping off her cheeks. “I look scarier now than I did before. I might try this look tomorrow. Maybe I’ll stick my head under the shower or something.”