Project Lazarus by Michelle Packard Page A

of sweat started forming on Sherriff Traves forehead.  He was a bit surprised they were still sitting there.  He watched in horror as a few sneaked out, unbeknownst to the others left behind.  It didn’t bother him.  Who could blame them?  The town of Cotter had been hung out to dry.  They desperately needed help.  The people were scared and confused and they were left to pick up the pieces or rather the dead.
     
    “We don’t know how it happened yet but apparently when one man was raised from the dead, all the dead in Cotter were raised with him.  We’ve been told to approach these people with extreme caution.  We’ve been informed that some don’t know who they are anymore.  More than likely they’re searching for loved ones.  You will encounter raised dead people who will talk about heaven or hell.  The goal is to guide them.  Guide them to our plan which is to contain them.  We’ve already opened up the schools, as they’ll be closed until the situation is under control.  Now, I know you all probably have a lot of questions.  Just let me say this before you start.  First, I’ll answer honestly any question the best I can.  I’m not hiding anything from you because I’m sending you out there into the unknown.  I’m going with you and I want us to all be on the same page.  Second, this is the strangest thing any of us will most likely encounter in our lifetime.  But if we handle it calm and patient, we can prevent a disaster here, at least I hope.  Third, you don’t have to be here.  I know you all by name and I know most of you have families.  If you choose to go…the doors are open.  Please, for the sake of the rest of us….do so now.”
     
    Three men in the back row, sheepishly looked down, got up and ran.
     
    Sherriff Traves waited.  A few more stumbled out the door.  His eyes darted back and forth, there were many men and women left.  The room fell quiet.
     
    “Okay then…let’s get on with it.  When we talk about these folks back from the dead we’ll be referring to them as “the living dead”, so when you have a question please refer to them that way.”
     
    “Yes,” Sherriff Traves asked the woman in the back.
     
    “What if we encounter a living dead who doesn’t want to come with us?”
     
    “Don’t antagonize.  I’m being real honest here.  God knows where they’ve gone.  I don’t know if we can collect them all.  The military briefed me and assured me all the living dead will be collected, tagged and contained. I hope they’re right.”
     
    The woman waited.
     
    “I guess to answer your question.  If they don’t come willingly, try to detain them if they’re alone.  If they’re with other living dead, let them go.  We don’t know if they’re organized yet.  We don’t think so.  But the bottom line is we don’t know what they’re capable of.”
     
    “David,” he addressed the thirty-two year old under Sherriff.
     
    “How do we know if they are a living dead?”
     
    “Most of them came out of the graves,” Sherriff Traves paused, gasps radiated from the audience, he wiped the sweat from his brow.
     
    “Yeah, they look normal though.  So it’s real hard to tell.  You’d expect them to be decayed, filthy, freaky looking and stuff like a scary movie.  Not so, they look just like you and me.  The telltale sign is the clothing.  Like I said before, they came out of the grave, so most of them are dressed up real nice.  Look for men in suits, women in dresses and people in strange clothing from different time periods.”
     
    “You mean it doesn’t matter how long they were dead?” Another policeman asked.
     
    “That’s right.  We’ve got living dead railroad conductors walking around out there, living dead eighteenth century kids in petticoats, living dead military men, we’ve got living dead from five days ago to five years ago.  We’ve got every single dead person from every cemetery raised in