Our Undead

by Theo Vigo

  Margaret: NO! Stop! He's harmless!!

  The boy says nothing. He keeps his eyes focused on her and the zombie, and his arrow steadily aimed.

  Margaret: Trust me! If he was dangerous, don't you think I would already be getting my neck eaten out!?

  The boy holds true a moment longer, but he sees that the girl is right. She should be getting torn apart by now. Convinced but confused, he cautiously lowers his aim and lets the string become relaxed again. Margaret breathes a sigh of relief and slowly gets to her feet. She helps Abe up as well, and the boy watches in silence as Margaret dusts herself off. She gives Abe a good dusting too, and then turns to the boy.

  Margaret: Hi… my name is Margaret. This is Abe.

  The boy says nothing, and his face is stoic.

  Margaret: He really is harmless… Actually, I uh… I trained him. He won't attack anything unless I say so, and he's even saved my life once. That's why I couldn't let you kill him.

  The boy doesn't say anything, and it's extremely hard for Margaret to get a good read on what the kid might be thinking. She'd never seen a more poker-faced child in her life. He glances back and forth between her and Abe. It is quite clear from the outside looking in that both of the strangers are still sizing each other up, trying to figure out whether or not the other is safe to be around; stable. Margaret can only imagine what the kid must be thinking. Who would ever expect a zombie to be as submissive as the one that stands before him? She suspects the kid is probably in a state of shock or denial. That must be why he's not talking. She concludes that it would be best to make him feel as comfortable as possible. He might damn well be insane. He sure dresses like he's insane. The girl doesn't want to say the wrong thing and have the kid suddenly snap.

  Margaret: Look, kid. I promise you. He's safe.

  She reaches out to Abe and touches his face to prove that what she is saying is true.

  Margaret: See? He won't do anything… Completely harmless, I swear. You can even see for yourself. Come here.

  She motions for the boy to come over, but he understandably hesitates.

  Margaret: Really, nothing will happen. Come on. You have to experience it for yourself.

  Still, he waits.

  Margaret: He's my pet. It's the coolest thing ever.

  She notices a little inflection in the boy's face. It's hard to see, but it looks like the slightest spark of interest… or skepticism. He puts his arrow back into the knapsack that is slung over his back and walks over to Abe and Margaret, but still, slowly and with a very watchful eye. Abe too, focuses all of his attention on the new human in his life. The boy smells appetizing.

  Margaret: There you go. Come on. It's safe.

  The boy stops in front of the unfamiliar pair. Margaret encourages him further.

  Margaret: Go ahead. It's okay. Abe, this kid is going to touch you, so you be nice.

  She gives Abe a playful tap on the arm and snickers in a nervous but reassuring fashion. Abe and the boy are in a deadlocked stare down, both expressionless. Margaret watches in silence, and without warning, the boy takes one step forward and gives Abe a decent push with his free hand to the gut. It's really almost more of a punch with an open palm. Abe is unmoved, and the boy steps back to where he was, about a foot and a half away. The two of them never take their eyes off of the other's.

  Margaret: See? I told you. He's fine.

  The boy passes a fleeting glance at Margaret then returns quickly to Abe. His stance relaxes and so does his expression. It changes from one of caution to one of curiosity. He takes a couple of smalls steps in Abe's direction and grabs the zombie's arm. He begins shaking it back and forth, slowly at first but gradually picking up speed. Margaret lets it go on. She doesn't think it such a big deal. Abe is brain dead so what does it matter if he gets his arm shaken? He probably doesn't even notice.

  The boy continues to shake Abe's arm more vigorously while Abe stares down at him, blank faced. He looks up from Abe's arm and into his grey pupils again, and as if by instinct, Abe's jaw opens wide. It opens so wide, it looks as though it has come unhinged. He wears the alternate to his tired expression now and begins lowering his head to take a bite out of the bothersome little boy. Margaret sees this and inserts herself in between them right away, pushing the boy back a few steps. Realizing that he might have just become zombie food, the kid looks a little shaken up.

  Margaret: Hey now! Okay, that's enough. Relax, Abe. It's all right, buddy.

  She pats Abe on the shoulders and chest, and he calms down with almost no delay.

  TheBoy: I thought you said he was trained.

  Margaret turns from Abe to the boy, her face perplexed. He can speak.

  Margaret: He is trained… Mostly… But you tell me, who introduces themself to someone the way you just did? Can you blame him for wanting to bite you?

  TheBoy: He's a zombie.

  Margaret: He's not just any zombie. Isn't that obvious yet? You're just a kid, but I assume you must be smart if you're surviving by yourself out here. You are by yourself, right?

  TheBoy: ……Yes.

  Margaret: Dang… You have a name?

  TheBoy: My name is Billy… Billy Tell.

  Margaret: Billy Tell?

  There's something strange about the name. Margaret is almost certain that it's a fake, but she doesn't bother interrogating the kid about it. There are more important things to find out.

  Margaret: It's nice to meet you, Billy. Like I said before, I'm Margaret Sinclair and this is Abe… Just Abe.

  Billy Tell nods in salutation, but says nothing.

  Margaret: Uhh, so Abe and I are heading to Portland. We-

  Billy: I wouldn't do that if I were you.

  Margaret: Why not?

  Billy: That's where I came from. The place is your basic dead-zone now.

  Margaret: But how? That's where everyone in Bend was told to go. The circulating word was that it would be the safest place. How could such a large place have been so badly protected?

  Billy: The large areas are always the first to go in these type of situations.

  Margaret: What?

  Billy: Anytime there's a zombie outbreak, people flock to large places, like malls and police stations, or their major cities. It's usually that or they all congest the highway. I think when presented with a choice, most people would rather die in a large group than fight for survival with no one else around.

  "Anytime there's a zombie outbreak"? Did she miss the first ones? Margaret doesn't know what to make of the kid. She is seventeen, so he couldn't possibly be more than thirteen, maybe fourteen. He looks ten really, but how could a ten year old be fending for himself out here. To have met up with her at this point, all the way from Portland is incredibly impressive. It's beyond incredibly impressive. It would be that for a grown man, but for this kid, it's more like a divine miracle.

  But maybe it isn't as magical as she is making it out to be. Billy is obviously well equipped, and he had just taken an unbelievable shot with his bow and arrow. He is also exceptionally quiet, so stealthy that Margaret is sure Abe would be much less alive if she hadn't luckily spotted Billy's arrow glistening in the sunlight. It's clear that the boy knows what he is doing. He is different. Even the way he talks, so straightforward and unemotional. Not like any thirteen year old she's ever seen. It's kind of awkward.

  Margaret: Hmmm… I see. And so you just left? What happened to your friends? Your family?

  Billy: I used to live with my foster parents. When news came of the infection, it came fast and without warning. In less than a day, the city was overrun with walkers. Radio transmissions and police officers with megaphones were telling citizens that the safest places in the city were the hospitals. It was the most backward thing I'd ever heard, but my foster parents wouldn't listen to me, and the three of us along with eight others, our neighbors, began to make our way to the Health and Science University.

  Margaret watches and listens attentively. His story is highly comparable to wha
t she had gone through back in her hometown. It was especially odd to her that the outbreak spread so rapidly. What had happened? Billy continues.

  Billy: On the way there, our group of eleven got ambushed by a hoard of walkers. We tried to escape as a group but got flanked by another large hoard and wound up having to split up. The group I was in was able to escape and hide out in an empty basement that was nearby. Inside, we took a head count and saw that we only had six people with us. Unfortunately, my foster mom wasn't one of them.

  Margaret: I'm sorry to hear that.

  He ignores her sympathy.

  Billy: My foster dad was pretty shaken up by it. The group decided it would be best if we waited the night out in the basement before continuing on, but as the hours went by, my foster dad couldn't wait any longer. In the middle of the night, he decided that he was going to go out and search for the other group. The rest of us tried to convince him to stay, told him that we'd search in the morning, but simple logic just wouldn't get through. He told me that I had to stay and that he would be back by daylight, but he never did come back. The next day, the group waited. We waited until midday, but neither of my foster parents came back. We couldn't wait for them any longer so we continued on to the University. When we got there, it was just as pointless as I had suspected. We couldn't even get within two hundred yards of the building with the sea of zombies that surrounded it.

  Margaret has flashbacks of her own experiences. She remembers the chaos of the city she was in and how she had to escape. Hearing that the same things were happening in other major cities makes this nightmarish ordeal seem that much more real. It makes everything seem significantly heavier, like closing in all around her. Her breaths deepen, but Margaret says nothing, and the boy concludes telling his story.

  Billy: That was when I decided it was pointless to stay with them, so I left.

  Margaret: You just left?

  Billy: Yea. My foster parents were dead, and I've always wanted to go to California.

  Margaret: Hey now, you don't know for sure that your parents are dead... but.. why are you going to California.

  Billy: My foster parents. They're most likely dead… or undead. Either way… I'm going to Hollywood. I've always wanted to go to Hollywood. I might as well go now.

  Billy takes his knapsack off and rests it and his bow on the ground, then he walks by Margaret and Abe, over to the tree with the arrow stuck in it. Because of his short stature, he has to go on his tippy toes to reach and wiggle it out.

  Margaret: Hollywood.

  Billy: Yea.

  Billy walks by them again and props his bag up. Sliding the arrow in and opening up the zipper, he continues speaking.

  Billy: But I'm going to rest for a sec.

  Margaret: Oh… okay.

  Margaret is at a loss for words. Back before the outbreak changed everything, if she had met Billy, she would think him a bit strange. Actually, a lot strange. She would think him a nerd, a geek, a regular neo-maxi-zoom-dweebie, short and harmless. All of those things were probably true of Billy too, in the old world, but in this world, the one that is ruled by the living dead, Billy Tell is an eccentric and intimidating maverick of sorts. She finds herself in awe of his character, watching him pull items out of his bag; a canister of what she guesses is water and something wrapped in a white plastic type of packaging with bold writing on it. It looks like something out of a hospital.

  Margaret: What is that?

  Billy: ER Bar.

  Margaret: ER Bar?

  Billy: It's an emergency food ration. It's got all your fundamental nutrients. I have a lot. Would you like to try some?

  Margaret: Um, sure.

  Next, from his bag Billy withdraws a bonafide hunting knife. It's shiny, smooth silver runs down it's sides and comes to end at a very distinct point when he finishes sliding it out of it's sheath. The blade is neither too big nor too small for the boy. It's just the right size… But then again, maybe just a bit bigger. He takes it out and slices it through the top of the package, then down each side. Then pulls back the square cut of its plastic face revealing its contents. Inside is a light brown block of …well, food, Margaret guesses. It doesn't look very appetizing, but she would have to be a fool to deny food in these days and times. Billy uses his monstrous knife to cut off two pieces that are exactly the same size. He hands one of the pieces over to Margaret that is almost the size of her palm.

  Billy: Um.. Does.. Abe want any?

  Margaret: What? Oh no, no. He doesn't eat what we eat.

  Billy: I thought not.

  Billy puts his piece of ER Bar into his mouth so that he can put his knife and leftover chunk of ration back into his bag. When he finishes, he takes a seat on the ground right next to his belongings and takes a healthy bite of brown stuff.

  Billy: So what does he eat?

  Margaret: I trained him using hares. They're all over these woods. I even fed him a squirrel once.

  Billy: Mmm… I guess that works.

  Margaret: What do you mean?

  Billy: I've read that zombies only choose to eat animals if they have to, if they're desperate.

  Margaret: He had no choice back when we were in the cabin, maybe he's just gotten used to them now.

  Billy: Maybe… How do you like the energy bar?

  Margaret notices that she hasn't even taken a bite yet, too engrossed in the moment. How could it be, that less than five hours into her travels she has met up with someone? What are the chances? And such a character as this Billy Tell kid. Even with everything that has already happened, this chance meeting is hard to believe. It hasn't really sunk in for her yet. Her parents truly must be watching over her.

  Margaret: Oh! It's uh… Well, let's see.

  She takes a decent sized bite and chews the doughy bar for a few seconds. Her face is in serious thought. The taste of the thing is pretty bland, but after getting a few bites in and letting the flavors swish around in her mouth, she begins to taste hints of lemon and vanilla.

  Margaret: Mmm.. This isn't bad. It's like cake that's gone bad, but… hasn't.

  Billy: That's a pretty good way of putting it.

  Margaret looks at the interesting kid and smiles, then moves in and takes a seat closer to him. She just has to get to know more about him, so she puts her gift of gab to work, and the two of them begin getting to know more about each other. Margaret finds out that Billy is actually turning sixteen, and that his birthday is coming up soon. He had been adopted when he was four but was left at the agency when he was only months old. She can't believe he's fifteen. He looks so young.

  She finds out why the boy is so thoroughly prepared. It seems that he has been a zombie enthusiast since before he can remember. Even before he was adopted, it was Billy that started the zombie tag game that all the kids loved to play back in his foster home. When he got adopted his obsession only grew, because when his foster parents asked what kind of gifts he wanted, he'd always ask for something pertaining to zombies. Soon he had a room full of undead collectables and other zombie themed paraphernalia, which he sadly had to leave behind when the infection sprang up. But there is one thing, he assures her, that he could never leave behind and that is his copy of "The Zombie Survival Guide", by Max Brooks.

  Billy: I know this thing like the back of my hand, for lack of a better idiom.

  Margaret: Heh, don't worry. I get it. You really know that book. It's your bible.

  Billy: Exactly.

  Billy then inquires about how exactly Margaret was able to train Abe. She goes into a very descriptive explanation. Starting from the beginning, about having to escape her city, the sewers, and finding refuge in the woods in the form of a cabin. She explains how Abe came in a killed her mother and father. Billy listens on with not much of any type of reaction to any of the dramatic points of her experience. It's more like he's just analyzing her and the facts, instead of being empathetic. He does, however, offer his condolences for the loss of her parents. She continues on, telling him ho
w she had twisted her ankle and had given up, ready to let Abe eat her, but then how he got stuck and her mind started to come back to her. She came up with her little training plan, and the rest is history. She physically gets up and uses Abe as a prop to show Billy how the training went down, pretending to swing her old whooping club and dodging as if Abe is still swinging at her.

  Margaret: Now that it's been a few days, I don't know what possessed me to do it. I'd just lost my parents. I think I lost a little bit of my mind too.

  Billy: It's okay. This new world we live in requires a little insanity. And hey, you actually succeeded. You have your own trained zombie.