MoZ CHapter 10c

Memoir of a Zombie
“Captain Zombie “

So I’m sure yer thinking some mixed thoughts right now. Some of you are probably saying to yourself “hey, he’s saving those people. He’s overcoming the zombieness and is gonna be a hero. He’s a changed man.”

A few of you might even be taking a religious view of it and are thinking to yourself that I’d seen the light and was redeeming myself. Let me tell you something, when you’re walking around without a pulse you don’t really care all that much for religion. I mean, you’re up and moving after dying so the thought of an afterlife isn’t really one you take much stock into. You’re walking around with yer guts handing out, maggots in your skin, eating people. Which category does that fall into, heaven or hell?

Anyway, when I left off I was tearing the door off a crashed car apparently trying to save the people. Hate you disappoint you boils and ghouls. After I opened the door, shocking myself and the kids, and uttered the closest sounds to words I’d been able to in some time I did not pull the kids to safety in my best Superman impression.

They stood there staring at me with wide, scared eyes. I’m not sure if they did that because of surprise that I was up and tearing doors off, or if it was because they finally got a good look at the sour shape I was in and realized what the hell was I was.

There was a moment of awkward silence. The kids starred at me, the undead shuffling close to our wreck, and me standing there staring at the red of the drivers wound. It felt like an eternity, standing there, the air filled with screams and gunfire, the moans of the dead, and my own mangled words still floating around in the chilled air.

Then I grabbed the food. The red meat of the boy’s leg was warm and slick under my fingers. He screamed as I tore a chunk away, brining it back up to my mouth. Everyone screamed. The boy with the pink hair sat wide eyed and mouth agape, looking over the drivers shoulder at the ruin of his leg as I went back for more. The gal in the passenger seat screamed “Brad! Noooooo!”

I had gotten a few good chunks out of his leg and had already bitten deep into the kid’s neck, before any of the kids moved. I heard them panicking and scampering around the van, probably racing for doors. I also heard the speeded shuffle of dead heads behind me, excited by the screams of the kids. It didn’t matter, all I knew was that I was starving, and there was warm meat right in front of me.

See folks there was no divine revelation in the error of my ways, or moral scream to help my fellow man. These weren’t my fellow man.

Ever since popping up on that cold slab my perspective of people had changed. People were not people. They were answers. Answers to the terrible hunger that threatened to tear me apart. I felt no remorse to eating anyone really. Put t this way, do you feel any remorse for the cow that died to make your burger, or the chicken that died for that bucket of KFC? Nope. Sure there’s groups of anti-meat people out there, the vegans or whatever they wanna be called ( I call them diet food), but there are no groups of Zed’s trying to hand out pamphlets and get other not to eat people. Zombies eat people. And you know why? Meat is meat. Deal with it.

At that moment I was getting the meat, the warm meat. The driver wasn’t really moving much anymore and the pulse under that yummy skin was slowing up. But there was a good amount of meat on his bones yet. I lost track of the other kids. Didn’t matter, there was food right here.

*Smash!* something hard and cold hit me in the back suddenly. I dropped the chunk of driver in my hands and lurched forward under the blow, bending over the drives lap.

“Oh my god! Hit him again! We got to save Brad!”

Ah, that’s where the kids went then. They didn’t run off, they moved behind me to try and help the poor drive. How fast we went from these four going to help me and take me to a hospital, to three of them assaulting me from behind and the other bleeding all over my clothes. Kids these days.

They hit me in the back again, as hard as the last time. If I could breathe it probably would have knocked the air out of me. Instead I got up and turned to look at them, the kid with the spiked hair and the other girl hiding behind the tire iron wielding Janet.

“Oh my god! He’s one of those…those things!?”

No shit Sherlock.

“He’s eating brad!”

Good job captain obvious”

“We need to save Brad before it’s too late!”

You might wanna re think that, it is too late.

“Hit him in the head! That’s how they kill them in the movies!”

Wait, what?

*Smack!* the metal smashed against my temple, my body to stiff to react to her swing. Sparks short in my eyes, and everything retreated into a world of darkness. No sound, no sights.
Funny, never knew zombies could be knocked unconscious.

But they could apparently. I was about to learn another shocking revelation.

Zombies can dream.


TO BE CONTINUED…