Unkillable by Patrick E. McLean Read Free Book Online

voice say “Good morning.” What the hell, I thought, what’s the worst thing that could happen? I opened my eyes and said, “Good morning.” For a brief moment, I saw the pretty coroner from the night before. I smiled. She screamed. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she passed out.
    I sighed. Yeah, that’s how it was going to be. Might as well accept it. 

    * * * * *

    Chapter 10
     
    I looked down at the pretty girl passed out on the floor. It was clear that she would be no help. I don’t know what I expected. I pushed the drawer all the way open and rolled out onto the floor. I thought about putting the girl in the drawer, but since I had just given her the scare of her life young life, I decided that it wasn’t the thing to do. I had hurt and killed a lot of people since I’d died – and maybe I’d have to kill more – but I had a lot of time to think about things in the meat locker. Just because I was dead, didn’t mean it was the right thing for everybody.
    For a moment, I considered trying to chart a less violent course through the world. I had to chuckle at that. The world hadn’t been nice to me, so why should I be nice to it? I took the girl’s cellphone from her belt and made a call.
    “Bruce?”
    “Who is this?” said Bruce.
    “It’s me,” I said.
    “Do you know what time it is man?” Bruce sounded stoned. But how could you tell? Bruce always sounded stoned.
    “Bruce, it’s Dan.”
    “Ohhhhhhhhh. Holy Shit man! You’re still alive?”
    “No, Bruce. I’m still dead.”
    “But, all the shit at the club. I mean, Jesus, man. It was like a bomb went off or something. It’s all over the news. They called it a gang attack.”
    “Gang attack. Figures. Even in the afterlife I don’t get any credit.”
    “Wow, man. Where are you?”
    “I’m at the morgue.”
    “You mean like the city morgue? Like, the cop morgue?”
    “Yeah, Bruce, the cop morgue.”
    “Well, well, how’d you get there? Never mind, man, you gotta get outta there. Did anybody see you?” Sometimes Bruce’s mind worked so slow, I could hear the gears mesh. I looked down at the pretty coroner and gave Bruce a minute to think it through.
    “Yeah, Bruce, somebody saw me, but I don’t think anybody’s gonna believe her story.” Would you? Bodies don’t just spring back to life. Everybody knows that, except you and me. But all the regular people, you know, the common clay – morons – they haven’t got a clue. And even if somebody gave them a clue, they wouldn’t take it. Who wants to know that things really go bump in the night? I had been transformed into one of those things and I didn’t even want to know about it.
    “Well, what are you going to do?” Bruce asked.
    “I’m going to walk out.”
    “What! Man, you can’t just walk out of THE POLICE STATION!”
    “What do you mean? What’s the worst thing they can do? It’s not like they can kill me.”
    “Experiments,” said Bruce, in a deadly earnest tone. “Experiments. Seriously, how many of those black-ops guys would love get their hands on you?”
    Bruce had always been full of conspiracy theories. When I was alive I thought he was an idiot, but I had kept my mouth shut. ‘Cause Bruce had money and when I was short, he would buy me a beer. But now? Bruce was making just enough sense to scare me.
    “Well, whatever. If I make it out of here, I’m gonna need a ride.”
    “Oh, sure thing. I’m there all the time. Meet me at the loading dock. Oh, and whatever you do, don’t use --”
    I never got to hear the end of that sentence, because just then I heard the heavy clomp of men’s dress shoes in an industrial hallway accompanied by enthusiastic, if somewhat tuneless, whistling. It was pretty clear that whoever it was, he wasn’t trying sneak up on anybody. The guy was loud enough to spook the dead. Or at least, me.
    No matter how jolly or musically incompetent he might be, I decided I didn’t want to be caught standing over an unconscious