I awoke to see Chris sitting on his bed with a note in his hands “I found this near the body” he said without even looking up “listen to this.” He unfolded the wadded up note and read its contents “I can hear them coming….the not-right ones….I have an old-fashioned six shooter…It almost seems to be waiting for the ensuing horror, anticipating the lurking horrors, a chance to finally have purpose…I can hear the restless moaning getting closer, the heavy footsteps of the recently deceased.…..I fired two of my shells into an abomination as it broke through the door. It fell to the ground with a heavy thud…Four shells left……a quiet, hopeless reassurance. I leaned back against the wall, exhaling heavily…..The door has been broken down now, I wasted three shots killing two of the shambling monsters……I can’t do this….I’m NO KILLER!!!....One bullet left……goodbye……” he said it all in a somber tone; I took a good look for the first time at the whole scene. Every single one had rotted to the bone after all these years, flies were all over the place, maggots writhed in the remains. I really can sleep through anything; I’m surprised I survived the initial outbreak.
With every passing second my disgust grew “We should get out of here.” I said shakily, sliding on my hat. It was obvious my compadre had the same notion as he was putting on his coat “good idea.” We left that room a little shaken, and we both needed food. The only bad thing about getting to eat yesterday was that we remembered what we were missing. On more than one occasion I’ve wondered what would happen if a human were to eat a zombie, never tried it though, god knows what kind of diseases they have. And then another theory popped in my head, one slightly less abhorrent “do you think zombies feel pain?” He looked back, wondering whether or not I actually asked “um what?” he finally said “do you think zombies feel pain, man?” I repeated, by now I actually wanted to know.
“Well let’s see” Chris said deviously, unsheathing his sword and running up to one that was in the distance “excuse me kind sir, can you feel this?” He chopped off the zombie’s arm “RAAAAH!!!” the zombie screamed in anguish. “Didn’t quite catch that.” Chris chopped off his other arm “AAAHAHAHAAAAA!!!” it’s face twisted in pain “Oh I think he said yes.” He said, looking at me as if to say “yeeeah you can’t front on that.” “Oh fine I guess they can.” I said, taking his sword and chopping off the zombies head. “Well that killed about ten minutes” I said cynically “where do you wanna go now?”
“I heard there’s a whole colony of survivors in downtown Tacoma” he stated, turning down a road to our left “maybe we can get some supplies, food, water, weapons, maybe even shelter.” Sounds like a plan I can get behind, I just hope he’s right; he usually is so I shouldn’t be so paranoid, but given the circumstances I have every right to. “Sounds good, lead the way.” I said following close behind. When I really think about it, the apocalypse wasn’t so bad, everything is free. The few remaining people are friendly in the off chance that I’ll help them, and at least they weren’t running zombies; I don’t have the cardio to deal with running zombies.
The deeper we got into Tacoma the more people we saw, it seems as if every zombie was killed in this town. I haven’t had the pleasure of killing one of the zombies in several miles. Some people would even have the courtesy to say hello. Of course it wasn’t true about the zombies, but it seemed as if people didn’t really care enough to kill anymore, like they were done with it, they were easy enough to avoid it seems. All this time I had rushed to kill every single one I saw, is that who I am? Am I just a murderer with a free pass? Well, it’s kinda like whack-a-mole, but instead of moles there’s zombies and instead of popping up randomly they walked toward you slowly, kill one? Fifty points! Wait…What the fuck is wrong with me? “Charlie?” I heard from what seemed like a million miles away “yes?” I said after a brief silence “we’re here.”
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