Damage & Decay

Chapter 16

Part two: Zombie Cards (Collect the Whole Set!)

"Everyone carries around his own monsters."

-Richard Pryor

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There was a sign on a pole that read DOT PIXIS---EROSION ARTIST. It hung from two lengths of rusted chain and creaked in the hot western wind. The outside of the house was painted with murals of lush rainforests filled with exotic birds and brightly colored frogs. Eren had barely glanced at the murals when he'd come to apply for a job, but now he lingered to look. The paintings were filled with life--monkeys, insects, flowering plants--but no people.

The artist opened the door on the second knock. He wore low-slung jeans that seemed to be held together by dried paint, and a plaid shirt with the sleeves cut off. His feet were bare, and he had a steaming cup of coffee hooked on one multicolored finger. He peered down at Eren.

"You're that kid," he said.

Eren nodded.

"I thought I told you that I couldn't use you."

"I'm not here about the job."

"Okay. Why are you . . . ?" the artist's voice trailed off as Eren held out the card. Pixis looked at the image and then at Eren.

"Who is she?" Eren asked.

Shutters dropped behind the artist's eyes. "It's just a card, kid. They're sold in every settlement in California."

"I've been out to the Ruins." When that didn't seem to do much, Eren added, "With my brother, Armin."

Nothing.

"Armin Jaeger."

The artist studied him, stalling by taking a long sup of his coffee.

"I need to know who she is," Eren said.

"Why?"

"Because I believe in her. Because she's real. My friends think she's dead or that she's just a ghost story. But I know she's real."

"Yeah? How do you know that she's real?"

"I just know."

Pixis drained his cup. "D'you drink coffee, kid?"

"Sure."

"I'll brew another pot. This might take a while." He wasn't smiling when he said it, but he stepped back to let Eren enter. The artist paused to look at something that caused his whole body to tense, and Eren turned to see the Motor City Hammer, crossing the street toward the livery stable. However, the Hammer was looking directly at Pixis, and he wore a peculiar smile on his ugly face.

The artist's house was clean but not neat. Sketches were thumbtacked to the walls; partially finished paintings stood on half a dozen easels. A wheeled wooden table held hand-mixed pots of paint. They passed through into a tiny kitchen. Pixis waved Eren to a chair while he went to fill the coffeepot. Every house in Mountainside had an elevated cistern that drew upon the reservoir and rainwater to feed the faucets and toilets. Because of some quirk of luck during the influx of First Night survivors, Mountainside had twenty-three plumbers and only one electrician. In terms of electricity they were half a step out of the Stone Age, but there was always water to flush the john and fil the kettle. Eren was cool with that

"Armin Jaeger, huh," Pixis murmured. "I can see it now, but not when you were here the first time. I knew Armin had a little brother, but I always assumed he'd look more Asian."

Eren nodded. Both of Armin's parents were Japanese, so Armin had straight black hair, light brown skin, black eyes, [A/N: I know this isn't true, but for this story it has to be this way.] and a face that showed only the expressions he wanted it to show. Eren's mother had been a green-eyed, pale skinned redhead who looked like every one of her Irish ancestors. Eren got an even split of the genes. His hair was straight, but it was medium brown with red highlights. His eyes were a dark forest green. His skin was pale, but he took a good tan. However, where Armin's body was toned to a muscular leanness, Eren was merely lean.