Casey stares at my blue contact lenses, I hope she doesn't spot my dead eyes behind them. "Kirk," she says; I read an earnest look on her face. I'm tensed, ready for the thumping force of more soul return. Then I see a faint look of something I can't read on Casey's face, "Gosh, this is difficult Kirk," she takes a big inward breath, "OK, what I wanted to ask you, or rather wanted to know, is..." 

...Mom staggers through the door, bedraggled and woozy; she looks at Casey, "What you doing here?" her words are groggy and slurred.

I detect the smell of alcohol on her breath; it's an odour I associate with danger. My body reacts with sharp shakes. Casey notices and puts her hand on my twitching knee, "Mr Russel invited me over for the interview later this evening. He asked me to sit with Kirk while he's at the store," she explains. 

Mom wobbles and struggles to focus on Casey, "Interview? Interview? No, no, no! We have all Kirk's needs covered honey – no jobs going here honey bunny," she slurs.

Casey gets it. Not my status – Mom's drunkenness.  

Dad says she drinks to forget. She never drank alcohol when I was alive.

Casey doesn't remind Mom it's her news interview to counter Dale and Jenna's lies and give our side of the story. This is good, as Mom would only become hysterical if she remembers. Instead, Casey says, "Oh, OK, I'll just wait until Mr Russel returns, then I'll go right on home." Casey is looking after me, I like her for that.

Mom looks at me with an expression I read as drunken love, "Just look at my beautiful baby boy. He's so handsome, isn't he Stacey?" 

"It's Casey," I say.

"I know it's Lacey," says Mom.
 "No, it's Casey, you're saying the name wrong." Mom raises her voice, "Don't you dare tell me I'm wrong, and don't you be disrespectful to your mother – you hear me CALLUM!" she hollers, with booze sodden anger.

Mom's out of control. On the brink of revealing my status.

I can read Casey's face clearly, it's embarrassed then confused, "Why are you calling him Callum, it's Kirk?" she says. Mom's eyes fill with tears, I read a look of despair on her face, she turns and picks up the picture, "Because Callum was the kindest young man in the world. He... " 

...the door flies open...

...it's Dad, he rushes towards Mom and finishes her sentence "...was Kirk's twin," he lies.

Dad comforts Mom, guiding her out of the room before she can say more, "Come on honey, let me take you upstairs; I understand how hard all this is for you." On the way he addresses me firmly, "Kirk – waffles tonight buddy." I nod an affirmative OK." 

Those words are code, they mean I must remain completely silent until he returns.

Casey returns to the picture, "So this is Callum, your twin. How did he die Kirk?" I lower my head, and stay silent. She rushes back to me on the couch, "I'm so sorry Kirk, that was really insensitive of me," she says.

There's quite a long silence before Casey resumes talking, "Kirk, what I wanted to ask you before was; well, you know how we've gone through so much together in such a short time, I just wondered if we could ever be like – like more than friends?" I lower my head and remain silent, on Dad's orders. I hear a tear splat onto Casey's knee, "I guess that's a NO then," she says, while trying to stifle further tears. I don't know why she's sad.

......

Dad is very happy with Casey's interview and performance on NBC News, "Casey sure does say it straight. Hopefully this will all blow over soon, then we can get you back to High School buddy, and make Mom happy," says Dad, while taking me down to my feeding basement.

We re-animates don't sleep, we're dead, we don't need the refreshment that sleep brings the living. Dad tethers my ankles to the metal anchor embedded in the concrete floor, "I feel bad doing this buddy, especially since you got some soul back. But, I'm not sure I can trust you not to go walk-about again. We can't afford to make any more mistakes while you're still in the news. This is for your own good Kirk," he says, while turning off the light. He doesn't say goodnight. His job is done for today.

Now, my basement nights are long and a little lonely. My third soul return causes tiny thoughts and fragments of feeling to meander through my mind. I ponder Casey's question, I don't know what 'more than friends' means. I do know that, right now, in this clinical basement, I miss Casey; her smile warms my cold corpse. I hope I can see her when the sun arrives on the new day.

 ......

Mom can't remember talking about my living self while Casey was in the room. Dad says we're lucky he arrived in time, otherwise it would have been - boom! Mom's horrified that she herself almost caused my status to be revealed. She remains quiet as she gets me ready for a new day, only minimal make-up today, I won't be going out. School remains closed as the 'Hazing' story and 'Zomboy' are still hot. 

As the sun goes down and the evening hue spreads across a clear sky, I feel a little sad; I didn't get to see Casey today. I hope I see her tomorrow.

I sit alone as Mom and Dad talk upstairs. I'm aware that Dad's voice is raised, with a tone that carries a mix of emotions. I strain to listen, "Of course I have to take him, if I don't, it will only bring us negative attention. We have to confront this. Please be sensible hun. Now come on, do what you're so talented at, make Kirk look really handsome and publicly acceptable, so I can take him." 

Mom seems a little happier when they both enter the room, she smiles, "Kirk darling, I need to get you ready – you have to go to hospital this evening."

Dad dresses me in Abercrombie & Fitch jeans, shirt and baseball cap, "You look the business buddy, a real handsome young guy, let's go," he says. 

I don't know why I have to go to hospital, I'm dead. 

Can doctors raise the dead now? A little Hope hovers round my mostly dead head.

On the car journey to hospital Dad removes my little ray of hope, "I got a call today from Sacred Heart Hospital. Toby Evans came out of his coma this morning. He's asked to speak with you and I privately. I suspect he'll tell us how he discovered your status. You gotta remember everything we taught you Kirk, these are tough times, we can't lose you to triple discovery. You gotta use every ounce of that small piece of soul buddy, you understand?" He gives me a look I recognise as 'don't screw up.' I nod the affirmative, and feel a little piece of human preasure.

......

The hospital concourse looks a little like my feeding basement, cold and clinical. The smell of disease and disinfectant flood my nostrils with their conflicting odours of death and its antiseptic defense. We sit on plastic chairs and wait in harsh fluorescent light.

A lady approaches and introduces herself, "Hi, I'm Gemma, the hospital registrar, thank you both for coming in to see me," she says, her eyes focused on Dad, not me. She talks with Dad, at length. I don't listen, just stare.

Gemma leads us down narrow white corridors that seem to stretch forever. Finally she stops at a door with black letters on it: Recovery Room 60. She looks at me, I read a caring look on her face, "Kirk, don't be alarmed by the way your friend looks, it's still Toby under all those cuts and bruises. He'll mend real soon, he's young and tough." 

I didn't know Toby was my friend. I have a mild pang of panic. I would like Casey to be with me, she explains things to me real good. 

The room is small and white. Toby lies on a bed, tied up to machines that ping and purr; he's a tangle of tubes and weird noises. Two seats have been placed by his bed. We sit and wait; for what, I don't know.

Toby's face doesn't look like it did on the day of my hazing; it's too big for his body and multi coloured. Dad leans forward and speaks over the sounds, "Hey Toby, Kirk's here. I hear you wanna speak to him, go right ahead, when you're ready buddy, take your time." 

His head slowly rotates, coming to rest at my eye line. His speech, when it comes, is slow and kind of sore sounding, "Hi Kirk," he says, through purple lips. "Hi Toby. How did you figure out my status?" I say. Dad elbows me, "Hey Kirk, don't be so blunt," he says, with his pissed tone. Toby gurgles a painful chuckle, "It's OK Mr Russel, I know the score." I see Dad's ears prick up, like a dog's  when it's heard an interesting sound.

Although Toby's eyes are almost lost in his injury's, I still find them resting on me, "I suspected your status when I saw you at school Kirk, but at your hazing, when you ate the guts, I knew for sure," he says. He looks at Dad, to include him in what he says next, "You see, I'm a Young Associate. My older sister was a re-animate, we lost her to triple discovery."

This pleases and puzzles Dad; why had The Association not informed him of Toby's membership? Dad has many more questions, but a nurse enters to tell us the doctors will soon be coming for Toby's assessment.  "Could I just have five more minutes, please nurse?" asks Toby.

When the door clicks closed Toby talks, "We need to meet as soon as I'm fixed and outta here." His condition makes his speech slow and painful, but he continues with urgency, "The person who did this to me has very dark and powerful allies on his side. We need to work hard and fast to ensure Kirk and Casey's safety is preserved and justice is served." Dad interrupts, "Dale's been arrested for your beating Toby, he's in custody right now. The law will deal with him accordingly. 

Toby's final words are firm, "Mr Russel, Dale is highly dangerous, a significant threat to us all! We mustn't underestimate Dale Wicks: when bad meets evil, they're above the law."