“Edward,” he said. “Edward Schuett.”
Chapter Twelve
By the time she reached the crowd gathered around the cars and truck, Rae’s lungs burned from the speed with which she had been pedaling her bike. The crowd was several people thick, and Rae had to stand on the pedals before she stopped in order to see anything. There didn’t appear to be much to see. Edward stood on the road behind the truck as two men, dressed much like DuFresne and Patal had been, quickly patted him down for more weapons. More men and women dressed the same way, either people from Merton Security or the CRS, were moving swiftly through the crowd and confiscating any cameras or recording devices. Many of the onlookers loudly protested this, but the security people made no effort to hide the guns strapped in holsters underneath their jackets. The crowd might be angry, but they were the descendants of survivors. They knew a time not to fight when they saw one.
Rae got off her bike, dropped it, and pushed past several people in the crowd. She could see Edward, his brow furrowed and his mouth tight from the emotion he was holding in, but he didn’t resist as the security people led him to one of the cars. An African-American woman in her forties stood by the car nearest to Rae, and she watched Edward with even more intensity than all the curious onlookers. Everyone else here looked mildly shocked at the appearance of the man who had been in the truck, but Rae didn’t think most of them knew what he really was. Edward may have looked sickly now, but not undead. His healing was continuing at an astounding rate. Only this one woman looked at him like she knew what Edward was, although she didn’t look at all fearful of him. Instead, she had a hesitant, hopeful look on her face. Rae tried to push past her so she could get to Edward, but the woman saw her and snapped her fingers at the nearest security personnel. A beefy woman nearby immediately stopped confiscating cameras and grabbed Rae by the shoulders.
“Damn it, let me go,” Rae said. “I’m with Merton.”
The African-American woman looked at Rae, then gestured to the security woman with her head, indicating that they move out of the crowd. The security woman pulled Rae over to the sidewalk, far enough away from all the commotion than none of the onlookers would be able to overhear them.
“You’re Rae Neuman, correct?” the woman said. “I’m Danielle Gates, Chief Director of Special Projects for the Center for Reanimation Studies.”
Rae blinked. She had heard that name before. “Do you mean you’re the local chief of these things, or…”
Gates smiled. She had the smile of someone who had been practicing disarming expressions for most of her life. “The whole country. I was at the field office in Chicago when I was informed that a woman at a small city’s gate had seen something interesting.”
“Look,” Rae said, “you’ve got to listen to me. I don’t know what you people think he is…”
Gates’ smile temporarily disappeared. “I’m afraid that’s classified.”
“I’m just saying, he’s not dangerous. You can’t kill him, please.”
Gates raised an eyebrow. “You’re referring to Mr. Schuett as ‘him,’ not ‘it’.”
Rae hadn’t even realized that. “Um, I guess I am. But he can actually think. He remembers things from before. You can’t hurt him.”
Gates paused. “Why would you think we were going to kill him?”
“The guy at my apartment, DuFresne. He gave the order to shoot.”
Gates’ smile disappeared again, and this time Rae wasn’t sure that it would be returning any time soon. “Mr. DuFresne will be properly reprimanded, I assure you. He reacted in a manner outside the parameters he had been given. Let me ease your mind when I say that Mr. Schuett will not be harmed in any way.”
Her tone was soothing, but Rae’s mind didn’t feel the least bit at ease. “So what are you going to do with him then?”
Gates gestured to the woman who had been holding Rae by the shoulders. “Would you mind please retrieving Miss Neuman’s B-36?” The woman nodded and left them alone for the moment. “Miss Neuman…Rae. May I call you Rae?”
Rae didn’t feel comfortable with where this might be going. “No, I don’t think so. You can go right on calling me Miss Neuman, thank you.”
Gates didn’t seem surprised by this. “Fine then. Miss Neuman, we appreciate both your help and the help of Merton Security in finding and identifying Mr. Schuett. You will be rewarded handsomely for keeping an eye on him for us. Because that is exactly what you were doing, correct? Keeping an eye on him? And not possibly trying to let someone as unusual and potentially dangerous as a thinking zombie loose?”
Rae didn’t speak. She was sure her expression said enough to this woman. She wanted to kick Gates in the shin, grab Spanky, and then take Edward somewhere far away from these people. She didn’t know why she suddenly wanted to protect him so much. She’d only just met him. But he seemed vulnerable, and while these people might have been able to give him his answers, she had no idea what else they might do with him. Gates’ assurances could be sincere, or she could work for the same government that had basically ignored the heart of the country while protecting the elite citizens of the coast during the worst point in the world’s history.
But Rae couldn’t do anything. Any attempt to help Edward now would only result in her getting arrested or possibly even shot.
Gates put a hand on Rae’s shoulder, and Rae resisted the urge to take it off while breaking a few fingers. “You will receive a bonus shortly, and I’m certain I can get you a promotion with Merton. The condition, of course, is that you don’t talk about this to anyone. You forget that you were ever a part of his story. As far as any of these people watching here know, all they saw was a sick man trying to evade custody for some reason. They don’t need to know who he really was. Ever. And if they do and we find out it was your doing, not only will you not be receiving that bonus, you will lose your job and your apartment. We’ll even take away your stupid gun.” To emphasize the words, Gates put out a hand for the returned security woman to place the rifle in. Gates handed Rae the weapon. “I trust you’ll be on board with us about this?”
“Of course,” Rae said. She wasn’t sure how convincing that sounded, so she added, “As long as my bonus and promotion are good enough.”
Gates snorted and took her hand off Rae’s shoulder. That final mercenary line seemed to do the trick, and Gates eased. “Good. It will be. Good day then, Miss Neuman.”
Gates walked away, moving swiftly between all the security people, giving them orders, and going in the general direction of the Merton employees who were talking to Ringo. From what little she knew about him, Rae was certain he wouldn’t have an issue taking a bribe to stay silent. That was the smart thing to do now.
Rae heard a wheezing noise from behind her and turned to see an elderly gentleman walking up to her. He was tall with a scraggly beard but only a few patches of hair on his head. His glasses were thick and the glass was yellow with age. He was probably older than anyone Rae had ever seen before, old enough to remember a time before the Uprising. All the commotion had probably attracted him, and all he would want was to know that everything was still safe and fell in line with the status quo.
“Miss,” the old man said. “Miss, what was it? What happened here?”
Rae looked for Gates. She had apparently finished talking with Ringo and was getting into the car that had Edward in it. The windows were tinted so Rae couldn’t see him, but she knew he was in there.