Warm Bodies Page 0,54

me. My slacks no longer chafe.

'You should at least lose the tie,' Nora says. 'You're about ten wars behind the fashion curve in that fancy get-up.'

'No, leave it,' Julie pleads, regarding the little strip of cloth with a whimsical smile. 'I like that tie. It's the only thing keeping you from being completely grey.'

'It sure won't help him blend in, Jules. Remember all the stares we got when we started wearing sneakers instead of work boots?'

'Exactly. People already know you and me don't wear the uniform; as long as R stays with us he could wear spandex shorts and a top hat and no one would mention it.'

Nora smiles. 'I like that idea.'

So the tie remains, in all its red silk incongruity. Julie helps me knot it. She brushes my hair and runs some goo through it. Nora thoroughly fumigates me with men's body spray.

'Ugh, Nora,' Julie objects. 'I hate that stuff. And he doesn't even stink.'

'He stinks a little bit.'

'Yeah, now he does.'

'Better he smell like a chemical plant than a corpse, right? It'll keep the dogs away from him.'

There is some debate about whether or not to make me wear sunglasses to hide my eyes, but they eventually decide this would be more conspicuous than just letting that ethereal grey show itself.

'It's actually not that noticeable,' Julie says. 'Just don't have a staring contest with anyone.'

'You'll be fine,' Nora adds. 'No one in this place really looks at each other anyway.'

The final step in their remodelling plan is make-up. As I sit in front of the mirror like a Hollywood starlet getting ready for her close-up, they powder me, they rouge me, they colourise my black-and-white skin. When they're done, I stare at the mirror in amazement.

I am alive.

I am a handsome young professional, happy, successful, in the bloom of health, just emerging from a meeting and on my way to the gym. I laugh out loud. I look at myself in the mirror and the joyful absurdity of it just bubbles out.

Laughter. Another first for me.

'Oh my . . .' Nora says, standing back to look at me, and Julie says, 'Huh.' She tilts her head. 'You look . . .'

'You look hot !' Nora blurts. 'Can I have him, Julie? Just for one night?'

'Shut your dirty mouth,' Julie chuckles, still inspecting me. She touches my forehead, the narrow, bloodless slot where she once threw a knife. 'Should probably cover that. Sorry, R.' She sticks a Band-Aid over the wound and presses it down with gentle strokes. 'There.' She steps back again and studies me like a perfectionist painter, pleased but cautious.

'Con . . . vincing?' I ask.

'Hmm,' she says.

I offer her my best attempt at a winning smile, stretching my lips wide.

'Oh, God. Definitely don't do that.'

'Just be natural,' Nora says. 'Pretend you're home at the airport surrounded by friends, if you people have those.'

I think back to the moment Julie named me, that warm feeling that crept into my face for the first time as we shared a beer and a plate of Thai food.

'There you go, that's better,' Nora says.

Julie nods, pressing her knuckles against her smiling lips as if to hold back some outburst of emotion. A giddy cocktail of amusement, pride and affection. 'You clean up nice, R.'

'Thank . . . you.'

She takes a deep, decisive breath. 'Okay then.' She pulls a wool beanie over her wild hair and zips up her sweatshirt. 'Ready to see what humanity's been up to since you left it?'
Chapter 13
In my old days of scavenging the city I often gazed up at the Stadium walls and imagined a paradise inside. I assumed it was perfect, that everyone was happy and beautiful and wanted for nothing, and in my numb, limited way I felt envy and wanted to eat them all the more. But look at this place. The corrugated sheet metal glaring in the sun. The fly-buzzing pens of moaning, hormone-pumped cattle. The hopelessly stained laundry hanging from support cables between buildings, flapping in the wind like surrender flags.

'Welcome to Citi Stadium,' Julie says, spreading her arms wide. 'The largest human habitation in what used to be America.'

'There are over twenty thousand of us crammed into this fishbowl,' Julie says as we push through the dense crowds in the central square. 'Pretty soon it'll be so tight we'll all just squish together. The human race will be one big mindless amoeba.'

Why didn't we scatter? Head for high ground and plant our roots where the air and