Our Undead

by Theo Vigo

  She has quite a difficult time because of her injured ankle, but she does manage to get her weight up and over without knocking it. Her right knee, however, takes a pretty good scraping from the windowsill. No blood, but in giving too much attention to her foot and not her footing, she slips. She ends up falling on to her left side and arm with an awkward thud. It sucks, a lot, but it isn't a fraction as bad as that sharp pain she had felt before when she tried to walk on her bad foot. An annoyed groan is all this accident incurs, and she gets up to dust herself off.

  She sees the duffel bag that holds all of her family’s supplies quickly, limps over to it, bends down and takes hold of it. But before she opens it up, she sees the broken closet door, and immediately needs to focus on calming her heart. She needs to keep it from speeding up, because now is not the time to lose it. Did he end up like her mother had? Could he possibly be sitting in that closet right now as a pathetic excuse for an undead monstrosity, unable to move? Out of respect, she has to find out. And if he is alive in there, she has to kill him, so she grabs the large stick for protection, and moves slowly in the direction of the silent closet. *creeeak*……*creeeak*

  Closer and closer she gets to the broken door until she's near enough to look inside, then she carefully brings her head to the opening of the big crack in the door's middle. Tensely, she peers in, but when she sees her father, her body becomes relaxed again, for she sees the state he is in. In the closet, her father's body sits upright against the back wall. His skull has been eaten in, and a sizeable piece of his brain is missing. He didn't even get the chance to become a zombie.

  The girl is used to seeing corpses by now. She is definitely used to the sight of the slaughtered undead, and she is even used to seeing maimed human beings, but the sight of her father is just too much for her. She turns away from the closet, vapid, and throws up in the near corner. There isn't much to be expelled. She doesn't get to eat very often due to the condition the world is in, so all that comes up is stomach bile and some instant noodles from the day before. It burns her throat as it comes up, and projects on to the floor.

  After she's through, she wipes her mouth off with her arm and spits out some of the left over bitterness. Her stomach is now emptier than it had been, and it's quick to remind her that she needs to eat. *grrrrrrrrrr* She rubs it to ease her discomfort, looks at the closet, but not inside, and limps over to the duffel bag.

  She opens it up and rummages through the contents, looking for something to fill her gut. She finds a bottle of water and takes a great big mouth full. She swishes the water around in her mouth before swallowing it, closing the bottle and putting it to the side. Next, she finds a bag of bread that looks about three quarters full. She takes it out, opens it and takes out a slice. When she puts it in her mouth it tastes as plain as white bread should, but is intensely satisfying. It doesn't take her too long to finish the first piece, and she takes out another one right away. She devours the next slice almost just as fast, and almost takes out another one before she stops herself. She looks at the bag and begins to wonder. How much more food does she even have? Granted, she had more of a supply now that she didn't have to share them with her parents, but how much longer would it all last?

  Instead of eating anymore, she closes the bag of bread and begins to take the rest of the stuff out of the duffel bag. She lays everything on the floor around her: one more bottle of water, another full loaf of bread, two cans of noodle soup, and three cans of Spaghettios. She remembers the side pockets that the bag has and checks them as well. Inside she finds a couple of large chopping knives and three handgun bullets. She scoffs at the bullets. She wouldn't know where to begin loading a gun, but the knives might come in handy. Is there anything else? She picks up the bag, turns it upside-down and shakes it about. Something drops out and flutters to the ground like a falling leaf, a little piece of paper that lands face down on the floor.

  She puts the duffel bag aside, and picks up the little paper. When she turns it over, she sees that it is a picture of her and her mother and father, a wallet sized family portrait they had taken almost a couple years back. Her mother looks beautiful. Her brunette locks are flowing lusciously down the sides of her head, and her smile is bright and warm. Her father, Gary, is standing tall beside his wife, with golden hair, and a smile that brags strength and pride. He was a king in his own right. This is the light in which she likes to see them most, and she smiles.

  Then she sees herself in the photo, standing in front of her parents. Her smile is just as warm and welcoming as her mother's, her eyes just as blue. People had always said they looked like each other, even with their contrasting hair colors, and it really shows in this picture. The young girl's smile is such a pretty one. She was so happy. Was. The thought brings her back to the present, and the smile she wears vanishes just as fast as it appeared. She puts the picture in her pocket and begins to put all of her food and supplies back into the duffel bag, but not before she takes out one more piece of bread and puts it into her mouth. She also takes the oil lamp and matches that are on the floor, and two blankets.

  When she's finished putting everything into the bag, she zips it up, gets slowly to her feet and swings the strap over her shoulder, all the while holding the bread slice in her mouth. She makes her way to the window, and is about to throw the bag out, when she hears something. It sounds like a low murmuring, like the soft purr of a cat, but a little deeper and more constant. It seemed to be coming from somewhere inside of the cabin. Yep, definitely coming from inside the cabin, but what the hell is it? She turns around, back toward the inside of the room, and focuses all of her attention on listening. It's not coming from the room she's in. It sounds like it's coming from somewhere deeper inside, so she inches her way to the room's door. It too has been broken through, and the closer she gets to it, the clearer the low humming becomes.

  She gets to the door and looks through it. Down the hall she sees our zombie, still caught in his snare. Oddly enough, he isn't struggling. He's just standing there moaning to absolutely no one. It's a weird moan that the girl has never heard before, more high-pitched than the normal bass heavy gurgling growl she has become so accustomed to hearing from the creatures, especially the male ones. It sounds almost sad, and the way the thing throws it's head back as it wails, adds to that impression.

  She opts not to disturb him. It wouldn't be very smart to catch his attention from the other side of the door. He might very well be able to get out that way. No, she doesn't want to attract his attention, but she also has a hard time looking away. Could it be that these nightmarish creatures actually have some sort of emotional intelligence? It almost looks that way, and it thoroughly intrigues her, so she takes more one bite of her bread slice and swiftly pulls away from the door.

  <><><>

  She enters the cabin again by way of the front door, just finishing off her slice of bread. Instantly at the sight of her, our zombie starts up with the growling and flailing of arms. It's becoming pretty apparent that he doesn't have as much vigor as he once did. He struggles, but his movements now just seem unmotivated. It's almost as if he's just acting like a zombie to keep up appearances, for the young girl's sake. But she couldn't care less. She throws the duffel bag and her big branch on the floor, and chuckles at the monster.

  LongBlondeHairedGirl: Heh… Are you still going at it?

  Our zombie continues.

  LongBlondeHairedGirl: You know, I just saw you a minute ago. I was watching you from that room back there. You didn't see me, of course.

  He snarls at her.

  LongBlondeHairedGirl: From back there, it looked like you were crying. Like a baby. And now you're tryna act all tough.

  He continues snarling and reaching for her.

  LongBlondeHairedGirl: Maybe you're not all bad… I mean, it's not your fault you're a disgusting, soulless, rotting, walking… dead, but… not really dead thing.

  The growling and reaching persists as the girl turns for her bag and picks the
water out of it. She opens it up.

  LongBlondeHairedGirl: When people are dead they aren't supposed to walk around, they're supposed to be at rest. (takes a sip) This… (sips again) This is a curse. A curse for you, a curse for me…

  She starts limping around in front of the captured zombie while she speaks, as if having a real conversation, using hand gestures to help explain herself as she talks, in a serious state of questioning and thought. Like a sergeant or commanding chief talking to his men, or a dictator giving a speech to his supporters, but it does nothing in helping our zombie understand a single word of her notions.

  LongBlondeHairedGirl: The only ones who aren't cursed are the ones who are already dead. They are the truly lucky ones. And I'm talking about the DEAD dead, not the… YOU dead… Yea, we're in the same boat, you and I… both cursed to live through hell on Earth until someone puts us out of our misery.

  She stops in her tracks and turns to the thing.

  LongBlondeHairedGirl: So, I guess I can't blame you for constantly moaning either.

  He wiggles and reaches, wanting a taste.

  LongBlondeHairedGirl: You really want me, huh? Is that what all the moaning is about?

  She starts limping toward him.

  LongBlondeHairedGirl: You would love to break out of that door and sink your teeth right into my face wouldn't you? (stops out of his reach) Or for me to take one tiny step closer?

  Our zombie swipes and swipes his free hand, coming within an inch away from her face. She looks him right in his eyes as she speaks, and then watches his hand as it sways back and forth in front of her. Then, she does something insane.

  LongBlondeHairedGirl: Well, here you go.

  She slowly inches her head forward just enough so that the tips of our zombie's fingers graze the soft muggy skin of her right cheek. They leave behind little trickles of week old dirt and dried blood when they swipe across it.

  LongBlondeHairedGirl: Is this what you wanted?

  He really gives it a go, but the girl just isn't close enough to get a grip on anything. Then she ups the teasing by shaking her head back and forth, letting our zombie's waving hand tap both sides of her face. But this is a mistake, and she quickly pays for underestimating him. As she shakes her head, her long hair flows to and fro with the motion. The oblivious girl doesn't take this fact into consideration, and as our zombie's hand passes by, tapping her on the right cheek, she swings her face to the right with a little too much momentum. This causes her hair to come swinging out in front, and our zombie takes advantage of this divine opportunity.

  He snags her hair and pulls down on it roughly. She would've let out a scream, but the whiplash stifles it. In the blink of an eye, she finds herself in a tug-of-war. Our zombie tries to pull her in closer so that he can get a bite, and almost succeeds due to the element of surprise, but in his current state, he is in no condition to overpower her. There's no way he's going to be able to pull her over to him, but now that he has her in his grip, he sure as hell isn't going to let her go easy. The teenage girl pulls and tugs, but can't get free at first, until she takes hold of our zombie's wrist for some leverage. She clutches it tightly with both hands, and in one big motion pulls the unrelenting wrist away from her hair and head, throwing herself backward at the same time.

  It's successful, but the girl goes stumbling backward and accidentally lands too roughly on her bad foot. She cries out in pain and drops to the floor, rather than putting anymore weight on it. Out of breath and a bit shaken, she looks up at our zombie. Sure, she had gotten out of his grip, but he still hadn't let go. In his hand, he holds a decent chunk of her hair. She sees it, and feels the top of her head for the bald spot she knows has to have been created. When she finds it, she exhales in exasperation.

  LongBlondeHairedGirl: (sighs) Ass-hole.

  She gets up to her feet while rubbing the sore spot on her head.

  LongBlondeHairedGirl: I guess you can't help yourself. You must be pretty hungry.

  His next growl is a frustrated one. He was so close.

  LongBlondeHairedGirl: You must be hungrier than I am. Hungry for braaaains, huh?

  OurZombie: Errrrraaaaawwggg!!!

  LongBlondeHairedGirl: Well, sorry bud, but you ate all the brains around here.

  OurZombie: Mmmmrrrraaaauuuu!!

  LongBlondeHairedGirl: My brain?! No way. You had your chance at my brain last night, and you messed it up. Like I said before, I may have no hope left for this God forsaken world, but I'm damn sure not helpless.

  OurZombie: Grrrrrrrrrr…

  LongBlondeHairedGirl: No, I don't have any brains for you… but…

  At that moment, an idea pops into the girl's head, and she hobbles over to her duffel bag. She takes out one of the large knives and looks it over. It's been used before. She's seen it being used, but it's edge still looks quite healthy.

  Without looking back, she heads for the front door, but before she leaves, she sees her mother's soaking corpse lying beside the exit again. The sight disgusts her so much, she decides to cover it up. She notices the drapes hanging on the same window the carcass is sitting under, and tries to pull them off with one hard tug, but fails. She tries again, a big pull on the window drapes, but again, they don't come down, so she must manually take each peg off of the rail that the drape hangs on individually. When she finishes, she gets it down and covers her mother's body, then picks up the knife and leaves through the front door.

  <><><>

  Out amongst the trees, the evening sun is in the sky. It's been a couple of hours now that she has been in the wilderness, and we find the young one crouched, hiding in a bush. She is out of breath and breathing deeply, but each breath she takes is a silent one. Her face is sweaty and dirty as she peers through the leaves of a bush, staring directly at something with a penetrating focus.

  Just beyond her sits a brown forest rabbit. The little critter is completely unaware of the no-longer-helpless girl hiding just behind it. Getting mentally prepared, the girl mouths something to herself that looks like, "Come on, come on. This time. I got you this time." Then, as quickly as the prey she is set out to catch, the desperate girl leaps out from behind the bush and stabs downward with her large knife. A small trickle of blood splashes up into her face, and she twists the blade to finish the rabbit off.

  By the time she returns to the cabin, the sun is almost fully set. She enters through the front door, and like clockwork our zombie starts up with the growling and snarls.

  LongBlondeHairedGirl: Yea, yea, mommy's home.

  She closes the door behind her, and the dead rabbit in her hand is revealed.

  LongBlondeHairedGirl: And I brought you a little treat. Ya see?

  She holds the rabbit up by the ears for him to see, then let's it hang by her side and walks over to her duffel bag.

  LongBlondeHairedGirl: (whilst walking) But before I give this to you, you have to do something for me.

  The big branch she had used to break in the sickroom's window is laying beside her bag. She picks it up.

  LongBlondeHairedGirl: You're going to have to NOT try to eat me anymore.

  He snarls at her viciously, half-hearted.

  LongBlondeHairedGirl: Yeaaa, I know it's going to be hard for you, but don't worry about that. I'm gonna train you.

  She walks up to her prisoner, rabbit in her left hand and big stick in her right, and stops not just out of his reach this time, but a little further back, putting her items on the floor. Then, she ties her hair up into a bun.

  LongBlondeHairedGirl: You're gonna have to learn…

  She picks her items back up in their respective hands before finishing her sentiment.

  LongBlondeHairedGirl: … who the boss is around here. Now… Let's begin.

  She leans her face within the zombie's range, and he instinctively swings out to grab her. She dodges it, and immediately gives him a swift blow across the face with the big stick in her right hand. His head flings to the right with the hit, but he isn't fazed long, and
his attention is drawn right back to the young girl. Next, she holds up the rabbit, and puts it within the monster's reach. He swings for the rabbit as well, but she doesn't let him have it. She merely pulls it away in time so that he can't take it.

  LongBlondeHairedGirl: Cool, so you are into this stuff… Good. This is what you'll eat from now on. Get it!?

  He continues to try and get the rabbit away from her until she returns it to her side.

  LongBlondeHairedGirl: You'll get it… eventually.

  Again, she leans her face into our zombie's vicinity and again, she dodges him when he swipes for her, following with another swift blow across the face. And then, she puts the rabbit up once more. She dangles it in front of our zombie's face, and moves it away before he can grab it. She rewards him by not giving him a good smack.

  LongBlondeHairedGirl: Yea… Soon enough you'll get it.

  She continues the process for hours until she realizes that the sun has completely left the sky. She doesn't realize right away because her eyes have been automatically adjusting themselves to the dimming light, but the inside of the cabin has become almost pitch black. The only light is that of the moon, coming in from the front window. She puts her face into our zombie's range one last time for the night. Again, the zombie tries to grab her and again, the girl has to give him a strong wallop with the stick. She sighs, tired, and frankly, a little pissed off.