Afterlife of Alanna Miller

ONE In the end, somehow you end up thinking about the beginning. "Sabrina called again last night. So did Emma," Alanna said, panting a little as we hurried up the steps. "Then there was someone called Suzette..." I laughed. "You remember their names better than I can. I'm not sure I could tell you which was which in a line-up. They were all pretty, eager and giggly, until they had their clothes off, when they became about as responsive as a blow-up doll or a cadaver. Would you want to have s*x with someone who reminded you of a cadaver?" Alanna screwed her face up. "I've dissected more of them than you have, but only you could think of messing with one. You're seriously messed up, Nathan. I'm going to get you a blow-up doll for your birthday, if only to keep you away from cadavers and girls whose calls you won't answer. I wonder if they have zombie ones..." "There are worse things to think about during a cadaver dissection," I replied, hitching the strap of my backpack higher on my shoulder. Alanna snorted. "Like which of the female med students hasn't buttoned her lab coat up properly over her low-cut dress? I saw you staring at Danielle last week..." I lost track of what she was saying, her words drowned out by an excited giggle behind us. The dark-haired girl in the same low-cut dress I remembered from last week charged up the stairs, overtaking us and continuing up. Her skirt was so short I could see that she wasn't wearing any underwear – or not much, anyway. Maybe a g-string, I guessed. A vice clamped onto my shoulder. God, Alanna had a strong grip for a girl. "So I'll be giving Danielle excuses as to why you're not returning her calls next week?" I shrugged, rubbing my shoulder as she let go. "I haven't slept with her yet." Alanna's signet ring caught on my shirt, so she yanked it free, the rosy stone catching the light for just a moment. "I bet she'd agree to do it on the necropsy lab table if you asked her today," Alanna retorted. "You'll be in her skimpy knickers before the weekend's over, for sure." "I could resist if I wanted to," I protested. "The day that happens, I'll die of shock," she replied. "I can't wait to meet the girl who tells you to f**k off instead of asking you to f**k her." She jerked her bag further up her arm. "Don't wait for me. I'll make my own way home." "Where are you going?" I asked, dropping my bag so I could button my lab coat. "Shopping. I might even get your birthday present if I find a s*x shop that does inflatable zombies." She winked and strode off. I stashed my bag in the rack and pulled out my dissection kit. I knew I needed some more scalpel blades, but I hoped I still had one or two left. Clutching the kit and my file, I shouldered open the door. "Oops!" the girl without knickers said as her forceps tinkled to the floor. She doubled over to pick them up, showing her bare, skinny arse. I wondered how Alanna could think of anything but s*x in the cadaver labs. With death so close, how could I not want to get a piece of that sweet-looking arse? Professor White cleared his throat grumpily as he entered the lab, his coat flaring as he strode over. "Miller, uncover today's cadaver. Today, your task is to discover the cause of death. You'll be assessed." No-Knickers had half her lab coat buttons undone again so I could see her pushed-up cleavage. I grabbed the edge of the sheet and pulled, not looking at the corpse. "Miller, tell us your first impressions," Professor White instructed. Her t**s are too small, but they'll make a nice handful. I wonder if she gives a good b*****b? I glanced at the faceless body. "Young, with no white hair or regrowth." My eyes travelled further down. "Lacerations and abrasions to skin on torso and arms. Extensive trauma to wrists and hands. Deep incisions on thighs with further abrasions. Widespread bruising...I would say cause of death is blood loss when some of those incisions pierced veins." I swallowed, trying not to breathe in too much formaldehyde. "Wrong," Alanna said. "You did this. You didn't protect me. You let them do this to me. You killed me..." No longer faceless, her corpse sat up, reaching for me with twisted, broken fingers. I sat up, too, panting with panic as cold sweat trickled down my skin in the dark. f**k. The nightmares were getting worse. If I slept in pyjamas like I had as a kid, they'd have been drenched. As it was, I just wiped myself down with a towel I kept by the bed for just this purpose and lay down again. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I reached for the sleeping pills, shaking two into my palm. Without Caitlin, sleep eluded me. One look at her sleeping form beside me would be enough reassurance to get me to relax. But it'd been five years since I'd seen her – five long, lonely years since she disappeared. I grabbed my water bottle and gulped down the tablets. I wouldn't get sleep any other way when I dreamed about Alanna as a zombie, because she was right. I'd killed her six years ago by not protecting her. I lay down, waiting for the pills to take effect, hoping my sleep would be dreamless, dreading the endless nightmares when it wasn't, and all the time wondering...was Caitlin alive or dead?