When zombie hordes invaded, we fled to the forest.
“What will we do?” my sobbing wife asked.
“I don’t know. Did you grab some food when we ran from the house?”
“Just this,” she said, extending a slice of bread.
“You eat it,” I said.
“No, we’ll share it. Do you want your half now?”
Though hungry, I declined. I’d save it for the morning. Dammit. How the hell am I gonna make it tomorrow on half-a-slice of bread?
“It’s getting cold,” Lisa said. “I wish we could make a fire.”
“It’d only help those bastards to find us. Did you see all that slimy grey muck flowing from their mouths? Can you see yourself being covered with that as one of them is about to bite your skull open to get at your brains?”
“Don’t remind me. It’s bad enough I saw our neighbor’s brains being eaten by those monsters. I hope I don’t have nightmares about it. Dammit! I only have three sleeping pills. I don’t know how I’ll be able to make it through the night once they’re gone.”
Then she screamed.
Afraid the zombies would hear her, I punched her to shut her up.
Can’t let myself feel guilty. I gotta hang on. If we’re gonna survive for even a few days, I gotta have a clear mind. But I’m so tired after running for miles. Half the time I had to carry her, pull her, push her. I don’t know how long we can last. No food. No water. Don’t know where we can get any. Ain’t even sure where we are.
I musta hit her pretty hard. Well, I did her a favor. At least her mind was peaceful for a while.
She woke. Rubbing her jar, she asked, “What happened?”
“You got dizzy and fell over. Before I could catch you, your face hit that boulder.”
“It hurts. I wish I had some water to take aspirins. Oh, Frank, what are we gonna do?”
“We’re gonna keep moving. Thank goodness zombies walk so slowly.”
When I said that, I heard feet crunching autumn leaves.
“Let’s get the hell outta here,” I whispered. “Damn things got here faster than I expected.”
We ran until we fell to the ground exhausted.
“I see a cave,” I said. “Soon as you catch your breath, we’ll climb up the hill and hide there.”
Inside the cave, we spoke in hushed voices. I figured we had a few hours before the zombies would reach us. Enough time to get some rest, then start running again.
We talked a while longer about how we might find food. Next thing I knew, it was dawn. I ate my crackers, then woke her.
We fast-walked all day through the forest. Fortunately, we found a brook. Might have been contaminated, but we didn’t care. We also found blueberry bushes. We ate like hogs.
When we reached the edge of the forest, Lisa said, “Look, there’s a barn! Maybe we can hide there. Let’s hope it stinks real bad inside. Might be strong enough to keep the zombies away.”
Approaching the barn, we noticed the stench of horse manure. We figured it was so overwhelming it’d hide our body odor, though we weren’t sure if zombies could smell human flesh from a distance.
“Look at the beautiful horses,” Lisa said, as we flopped onto a pile of hay.
Just as we were getting comfortable, one of the horses reached up with its hooves and pulled it’s head off. Inside was a zombie. Growling, the monster headed toward us.
Lisa tripped. Before I realized it, the damn thing pounced on her. The sickening sounds of skull crunching filled the barn. Enraged, I grabbed a pitchfork and rammed it into the zombies face. But it was too late. Lisa’s brains were spilled on the ground.
I raced for the door and ran until my chest burned.
My depression knew no bounds. I’d lost my wife to a freakin zombie.
I wondered how many others had lost loved ones. Then I realized the zombies were really doing us a favor. The world was over populated. Massive numbers of people were contributing to global warming. The more I thought about it, the more I realized zombies were heroes. They were like sharks, who cleansed oceans by eating everything they encountered. Though zombies ate only human brains, that meant they had more discriminating tastes than great whites.
Nevertheless, I didn’t want to die, so I kept running.
After some sleep, I felt better. Especially since I realized that I might be able to file an insurance claim declaring my wife died accidentally. That would be a situation of double-indemnity, meaning I’d collect $200,000 instead of $100,000.
Come to think of it, Lisa was a lousy cook. And the house was always dirty. Worse, she brought home a small paycheck. The more I thought about it, the more I realized the zombies did me a favor.
I wondered if any of them could read. If so, when things returned to normal, I’d sent them a thank you card and include a donation for their favorite charity.
__________________________________
©2011 Michael A. Kechula
Tags: Michael A. Kechula
