PERVERSE - Apply Fic

22

When the dead reconvene, they do not feel like ghosts. There bodies shamble, shuffle, decay. They are animated more like zombies than ghosts. There is no haunting to be done. None of them feel any particular tie to this place, a spot on a playground beside the church that Leo tells them to avoid but doesn't explain why. There is no passion, no lingering. All there is are vacancies. Within their bodies, at the motel where Lydia convinces the man to give them three rooms at a discounted price since they pay in cash. Ajay has procured from the jewelry Eva gave him. There are vacant drawers where clothes would go if they had stolen anything, vacant fridges where they could put food if they required it. Vacant stomachs, always hungry.

In the middle of the night, Eva rolls over in her bed and touches Ambrose's shoulder. He is just as awake as she is. Together, they return to the church and break into the basement they once called home. They steal back their clothing. Some of the food they collect, mostly the non-perishables to stuff in their new rooms. Eva is the one who works, creeping quickly, hopping from one room to the next. She doesn't mind how Ambrose barely helps her. Instead, he strips all of their cots and folds up the sheets. Then, he wanders up the stairs and presses his cheek against the ground. He can feel the draft coming in. He's heard of Holy Water, but never Holy Air. He feels God all around him, but he knows he still is not going to Heaven.

The next day, they all gather in one of the rooms, where Nico and Fallon have teamed up to make breakfast for everyone. Only then do they all agree to share what they know.

"We have four thousand dollars left," Eva says. "I'll get more."

"Some of us are going to start looking for work," Ajay tells them. "They've got enough under the table we can do out here. The snow'll be coming so at the very least we can shovel driveways. Five bucks per."

Unlike the others, Clare is aware they don't need to eat. Perhaps they hunger, but nothing could ever fill them. They are zombies, after all. Likely, they don't even need to sleep. Maybe they will feel cold, but could they even feel hot? Would the winter nights lounging in snowbanks actually kill them?

"And do we want to know where you're getting this money?" Audrey glares at Eva from beside her. "What if you run by before any of us have enough to pay for next week here?"

Eva takes out a cigarette from her pocket. With a click she ignites her lighter. She drags in and exhales the smoke directly into Audrey's face. Though Audrey cannot help but scrunch her nose, she otherwise tries not to give Eva the reaction she so desperately craves.

"We'll have to make it work, since we can't leave town," Barry offers.

Standing beside him, Lydia nods, "I went to the town line too. My body started to stop existing as we crossed it."

Audrey huffs and Eva blows another puff of smoke in their face. The smoke is getting thicker in the room. Lydia turns her head away from Eva. It's a habit, one her throat will appreciate even if she never sings again. She's done it since she died, prompted by Eva, but now she's worried she couldn't hold a tune. Lydia already has forgotten the blocking for the last opera she did. Maybe she wouldn't remember all the words to the songs she has sung. While Lydia may like testing Barry, she does not want to test this new theory.

Besides, she isn't sure what testing Barry has gotten her. When they picked rooms and beds last night, Barry offered to go with Audrey. Not her. In the cold hours of the evening, Lydia was awake, lying with Este in the next room and wondering if Barry chose the bed that mirrored hers, if he chose a spot that would have them lying next to each other if they had been in the same room.