“Reverend, I would be glad to speak with you outside the diner where we have more privacy,” Esk grunted as the preacher squished him against the wall.

“Oh, outside, huh? Ya’ wanna’ take this outside? Sure, ya’ little maggot!” replied Bandersnatch.

The Reverend forced Esk’s wrist into an uncomfortable angle, crushing his arm between their two bodies on the way out. The preacher grinned and greeted people as he passed other tables. Esk found it nearly intolerable to keep his armor intact, but he would have his revenge soon enough.

“How ‘bout out back, ya’ coward. Huh? Gonna’ rough you up good…” threatened the Reverend.

“Out back would be fine,” Esk said.

Once around the corner of the diner, Esk translated the Reverend to the moon where the good preacher found himself strapped naked to a cold metal slab in an unfamiliar examination room. This room was reserved for especially hostile or dangerous subjects. It was not used often, therefore it had a few loose strands of dried-up DNA laying around here and there, with some stuck to the walls like spackle from previous guests. Some was, of course, human DNA…

“This isn’t where I was b’fore. Where am I? Hey! What’s-Yer-Name! I know yer in here with me! Ya’ best let me outta’ this b’fore I call down hellfire an’ brimstone from Almighty Gawd Hisself on ya’!” Bandersnatch yelled.

Only the echo of his own voice answered him.

Esk returned himself to the back of the diner. He gave the Reverend time to think about his actions and where they got him. Perhaps he will go insane thinking of the possibilities. I do so look forward to getting back to him later. Much later.

***

Sam was inside eating a pile of half-burnt potato shavings called “hash browns”. This world was odd to Esk. The ways of the humans confused him, nevertheless he found himself wanting to continue studying it all.

“Heard the Preacher took ya’ out back, Esk. It’s the talk a’ the diner. What happened?” Sam asked in a muffled tone past his chewing motions.

“The Reverend has some learning to do,” Esk replied.

A hush washed through the diner. The air was still. Birds sang. Millers flitted and bumped against the lights near the ceiling behind the counter. A motorcycle passed by on the highway across the parking lot. A single man clapped slowly, yet intently. Others joined. Soon, Esk found that the entire diner’s population applauded him for taking the Reverend outside the diner. People heard cheers and whoops and hollers a half a mile away as Sam accompanied Esk down the aisle. They left the diner as everyone celebrated Esk’s victory. Little did they know what victory meant to Esk and his kind. The visitors were as kind to the Reverend as humans would be, even in hand-to-hand combat. Sam beamed with pride. The teenaged cook, who was on smoke break, however, huddled in the corner of the meat freezer, petrified about what he just witnessed out back…

***

Once home, Esk and Sam took up their respective positions in their recliners. Sam was still visibly pleased with Esk’s performance. Esk decided this was a good time to ask some questions.

“Sam, I have a few questions that I need to ask you.”

“Sure. Go ‘head. I like that TV show where they ask ya’ questions and ya’ have ta’ guess the answer, but it’s gotta be a question when ya’ answer back. Whaddaya wanna know?”

“What do you call one who is dead, but then comes back to life?” Esk asked.

“Oh, ya’ been watchin’ them zombie shows, have ya’? That’s what’cha call ‘em. Zombies. They eat brains. And they don’t die again less’n ya’ shoot ‘em in the head or otherways destroy their heads. You can cut other parts off ‘em, though, and they just keep a’ comin’. Pretty cool, huh?”

Esk was flabbergasted and trembled.

“What happens if you eat one of them, Sam?”

“Hm. Now that’s an interestin’ one. If ya’ eat one, I s’pose you get ta’ be half zombie. I know if one of ‘em bites ya’, ya’ get ta’ be a full zombie. But then ya’ can’t think anymore. Yer just hungry fer brains all the time.”

Esk started to sweat and was queasy from the conversation. Not only were the Gossips and the Reverend true cannibals, but they were also all half zombies. They could not die unless their brains were obliterated. This was why they eat that poor creature Jesus Christ. They probably locked him up somewhere without food or water. He most likely lived in his own filth in chains. Perhaps they tortured him regularly. Esk knew how humans kept their prisoners. The conditions were squalid and impressively inhumane.

Esk decided to ask the penultimate question. He paused for a moment.

“Sam, what is prayer?”

Sam almost jumped out of his recliner at the question. He came over and knelt on the carpet beside Esk’s seat.

“Now, Esk, this is really important. Do ya’ believe in Gawd?” asked Sam.

“God? Who is God? And who is Lod, speaking of God? Are they related?” Esk questioned.

Sam snorted as he laughed. He knew he had a lot of explaining to do before Esk understood prayer.

“How ‘bout we go through it play-by-play at church this Sunday, Esk? It’d be easier ta’ describe it all ta’ ya’ if we do it that way. Is that okay with ya’?”

“Yes. I would appreciate it very much if you would explain everything at church this Sunday.”

“This Sunday’s special, even. This Sunday’s communion.”

Esk shuddered at the word communion. He could only guess that it meant something sinister and unpleasant. Esk did not mention anything to Sam about the ultimate question of how they communed with the dead yet, though. That could wait until Sam finished his explanation of prayer during the church service. Esk expected Sam to ask him if he had any questions following that ordeal. The answer was yes. He had questions. Esk intended to ask them, too—all of them.

***

Dr. Severius expected Esk that evening. Esk excused himself from Sam’s presence and read the address at which the psychiatrist specified they meet. He looked forward to talking about this psychopathy reprogramming research with Dr. Severius. A research partner! On Earth! A human, even. Not one of the clones or the Council overseers that would shut down my plans and squelch my ambitions. No, a real live human being is willing to do research with me. How stimulating!

Dr. Severius stepped out from between two buildings down an alleyway and motioned Esk toward him in the darkness. The alley reeked of garbage, the blue bins overflowing with black bags of it.

“Hello, Dr. Severius. Why are we meeting here?”

“Shhh! Esk, we must be clandestine in this line of research. We’ll go to prison if we’re caught. Do you understand?”

Dr. Severius wriggled with both terror and excitement. The energy was contagious. Esk felt it growing within his right thumb. He noted that Dr. Severius was dressed in traditional homeless garb and wondered why he dressed as such, yet the conversation never drifted in that direction. This was a business plan in the making.

“I can get psychopaths for you to experiment on from Cell Block D. It’s easy. I just write up a report that they need to be on suicide watch in solitary. Then I interfere with the camera signal while you work on them. When I turn the signal off, the camera comes back on before the guards realize there was a problem with it. You’ll have to work quickly due to the cameras. I apologize for that, but I can’t help it. That’s part of the system. You understand,” Dr. Severius explained, “and you also know that neural connections take time to develop. The short working periods that we will engineer should allow enough time between ‘adjustments’ to reprogram the psychopaths properly.”

Esk replied with care, “Dr. Severius, I can make more time as long as you can obtain the psychopaths for me and run interference with the cameras in the prison rooms. I have my own way of reprogramming neural connections. Is that acceptable?”

“Oh, I like that. I like that very much. ‘Make more time.’ ‘I have my own way.’ It sounds mysterious and wonderful. This research will change the world as we know it if we are successful.”

“Yes. Yes, it will. I am hopeful that it will change this world for the better. I have plans for this research.”

“Oh, so do I, Esk. So do I…”

Image by Chouaib Saoud via Pixabay