Reanimated

What 3K will get you after the world ends--flash fiction

It was nearly time. Cameron glanced at his wristwatch for the third time in as many minutes. "Where are they?"

"Calm down, Cam. We're early." Melissa gingerly patted his arm, trying not to grimace at the texture of his skin. That was the problem with reanimation: there was never enough time before you dissolved into a nasty puddle of crud. Cameron had been uptight before he died; he wasn't any more relaxed now.

"I can't calm down. It feels like my skin is crawling." He raked his fingernails up and down his forearm, seeming not to notice the ribbons of gray flesh falling around his bare feet. That was another problem with Cam, and most reanimates. As soon as they opened their eyes, the first thing they did was rip off all their clothes. The dumpster behind Herman's Mortuary was stuffed with bags of shredded grave clothes. Oddly enough, reanimates usually kept at least one item from their former life. In Cam's case, that was the Rolex watch given to him by his parents last Christmas.

Melissa inched a few steps away, trying to be unobtrusive. He really had no idea how repulsive he was becoming, and she lacked the energy to try to get him to understand. Two days ago, it had been wonderful--their reunion had been explosive. Now the thought of kissing that graying, slippery flesh made her want to puke.

"Three days," Mr. Herman had told her right before the reanimation.

"That's all the time my three thousand dollars will buy?" She glared, certain the cadaverous old man was trying to bilk her out of her hard-earned college money. Not that college was an option any longer, not with the world the way it was now.

"Actually, three days is an estimate. My dear, you need to understand that this business is, how shall I say, rather iffy. Your fiancé may last the full three days, or he may not last one. It all depends on the force of his will, my dear. Not that even force of will can stand against time. Now, shall we get started?"

Melissa glanced over at Cam and nearly lost her lunch. Oblivious, he'd scratched all the way down to glistening bone.

"God, Cameron! Just stop. Please."

"I can't, Mel. It itches." In a frenzy now, he scratched and scraped his skin, effectively flaying himself. Hands over her mouth, Melissa backed away, tears filling her eyes. Too late. It was too late for the Cure.

Unable to move, Melissa watched the dancing skeleton that used to be her fiancé until he was just a pile of nasty crud.