The zombies were like Canadians, in that they looked enough like real people at first, to fool you. But when you looked closer, you saw that they were from some other place, where things were different: where even the same things, the things that went on everywhere, were just a little bit different.
The zombies didn’t talk at all, or they said things that didn’t make sense. ”Wooden hat,” one zombie said to Eric, ”Glass leg. Drove around all day in my wife. Did you ever hear me on the radio?” They tried to pay Eric for things the All-Night didn’t sell.
Real people, the ones who weren’t heading towards Canada or away from Canada, mostly had better things to do than drive out to the All-Night att 3 a.m. So real people, in a way, were even weirder, when they came in. Eric kept a close eye on the real people. Once a guy had pulled a gun on him – there was no way to understand that, but, on the other hand, you knew exactly what was going on. With the zombies, who knew?
Ur novellen ”The Hortlak” av Kelly Link.
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