Breathers by S. G. Browne Read Free Book Online Page B

another turn, and all we hear is the rain on the asphalt and the sound of approaching footsteps.
    Rita and I back slowly away from the lifeless body lying on the shoulder of the road as the other two figures cross the street and come toward us. Without warning, Jerry appears behind Rita and me, causing both of us to jump and yelp and grab on to each other.
    Jerry looks down at the corpse and says, “Is he dead?”
    The corpse sits up, raising himself on his forearms, and shakes his head like a dog after a bath. “Nope. And I aim to stay that way. So why don't we all get the hell out of here before any more Breathers show up.”
    This is how we meet Ray Cooper.

early three stories tall and made of stone, the granary on Old San Jose Road has been abandoned for more than thirty years. Most of the roof is gone, as are any other signs of the farming operation that existed before the winery took over the land across the road and replaced the wheat with grapes. A faded assortment of graffiti covers the granary's circular walls, while weeds and wildflowers have overgrown the land surrounding it.
    Ray has lived in the granary since September, when his wife kicked him out because she couldn't put up with the stench. His wife must be overly sensitive to odors because other than Rita, Ray is the only zombie I've met who doesn't have the telltale underlying smell of roadkill.
    “Welcome to my humble abode,” says Ray with a twang that smacks of overalls and cow pies.
    Ray leads us through the back door of the granary. Jerry goes first, followed by Rita, then me. Behind us come the other two zombies who were with Ray in the field—Zack and Luke, adult twin brothers who died from neck and skull injuries when they dared each other to dive head-first from a railroadtrestle into the San Lorenzo River. They did this in the summer when the river was two feet deep.
    Ray told us their story. Zack and Luke haven't offered up more than grins, nods, and a couple of “Howdy's.” They're kind of creepy. But then, who am I to judge?
    Inside, Ray turns on a propane lantern, the light from the flame flickering off the stone walls. The interior walls cut in about four feet from the curved exterior walls, creating what would have been storage areas for the threshed wheat. A square sliding door in each wall sits at about shoulder level, while iron ladders attached to the walls climb up to the top of the granary.
    A single door leads from the back to the front, where another door large enough to accommodate a vehicle is boarded up from the inside. Other than the six of us, a couple pieces of charred wood, and an old, dirty tennis shoe discarded in one corner, the granary is empty.
    Behind me, Luke whispers something to Zack, who giggles.
    The rain has stopped, which is nice since most of the roof is gone. The remaining portion of the roof covers one of the grain storage areas, which Ray has converted into his own personal sleeping space and pantry—complete with shelves lined with canned goods and Mason jars and bottles of Budweiser.
    Just because we're the undead doesn't mean we don't like creature comforts.
    Ray also has firewood, matches, and old issues of
Playboy.
He pulls out several pieces of wood, some kindling, and one of the
Playboy
s, which he hands to Jerry. “Just tear out the articles, ads, and interviews,” says Ray. “Anything with nudie pictures stays.”
    While Jerry alternately peruses the contents of the
Playboy
and tears out pages for Ray to use to start the fire, I glance over at Rita to see if she's uncomfortable about any of this and find her flipping through an old
Playboy
with Charlize Theron on the cover.
    Within minutes, Ray has a fire crackling in the middle of the floor, the smoke drifting up and out through the open roof. In the darkness of night, it's doubtful any Breathers can see the smoke rising from the granary.
    “Anyone hungry?” asks Ray.
    Zack and Luke raise their arms fast and rigid like Hitler youth. Rita