This Isn't the Zombie Apocalypse

3. I Get a New View on Life

About an hour into my journey, a bolt of lightning shot down from the sky in front of me.

Literally, right down in front of me.

It didn't surprise me as much as it should have, because ever since my run-in with Death last year, it seemed everything was out to get me. What did surprise me, however, was that the lightning had come from no storm cloud, no overlarge power line, and, on a clear, picturesque day like today, it couldn't have come from anything, really.

What also surprised me was that the lightning wasn't actually lightning at all, but a single beam that burned into the ground, steady and dull.

Then the beam brightened to a blinding light, the same light that had seeped through Death's darkness, and exploded from the spot the not-lightning had hit. My eyes immediately shut tight, lids creasing to make sure the light didn't blind me, although I could still see a glow behind my eyelids. Wind—bitterly cold, blazing hot, strong yet soft—blew on me, ruffling my hair and borrowed clothes.

"Hello, again," the voice said, harsh yet gentle at the same time.

Jeeze. Everything about this being was an oxymoron. Maybe I was talking to the personified form of the oxymoron.

I tried to open my eyes a bit, squint, but the brightness was too bright. "Um... H-hey," I stammered, feeling my palms sweat. Something was off; something was wrong. This light, though the exact opposite, reminded me of the dark. There was too much; it felt overwhelming, unbalanced.

"So eloquent." I could almost see the frown, the disapproving glare. "But I will allow it to pass this time, for you are a mere child."

"Thanks, I guess," I muttered, once again gingerly opening my eyes. The brightness was still there, scorching my retinas, but I was willing to keep my eyes open so I could at least see what I was facing. I was able to do that if I averted my gaze mostly to the ground.

I watched as the source of the light swiftly floated behind me. It was a ghostly figure, slim like Death, but more... petite. Shorter, lither, just plain tinier. It made me think that what was before me could do no wrong, but in my heart I knew this was false.

This thing was like Death.

Just the exact opposite.

"Oh," the voice giggled girlishly, but a dark undertone was obvious. "I am not doing you a favor." The body of light hovered over me, but instead of the ghostly figure being feather-light, it was heavy, heavier than boulders stacked on top of each other all the way up to the sky. I felt like Atlas, forced to carry the weight of the world. My knees buckled under the weight, my body wanting to shut down, but something forced me to continue; something kept me going, and I didn't want to.

I shut my eyes again, digging my nails into my palms until I was sure I drew blood. "How so?" I asked calmly, shakily.

"Death has gone quite mad because of you." No more was said, and I wasn't sure if I wanted more. This—this thing was freaking me out. I just wanted it to leave.

"Oh, I assure you, I will leave soon enough, after I tell you what I need to." The being drifted down, right in front of me and my closed eyes. It was staring at me, I knew. It was staring because, to it, I was a mere object of its creation.

"And what would that be?" My body shook, and I felt as if I was being filled, engulfed, enveloped all at once.

I felt a shifting by my side, and then the voice was whispering in my ear: "Find the other. The time for running is over."

My eyes shot open at that. "What—who are you?" I asked pitifully, voice cracking, but I had to know for sure.

Another ring of laughter erupted from it, hollow yet full of mirth. "I think you know."

Then the light imploded in on itself, taking every given source of Life it had recently given out with it.

My knees buckled, and I fell to the ground, sending dust up as I landed. My brain began to whir, thoughts bouncing around.

The time for running is over. Did that mean I finally had to die? That I finally had to go to the afterlife? That it was time to pay my fines for escaping the grasp of Death? And that find the other! Who? Who! I didn't know, and I could only care so much.

The only thing I could care about was myself at the moment, no matter how selfish that made me feel. It seemed I was constantly jumping the fine line of Life and Death. One heartbeat and I was being hunted by Death, the next I was running free and alive, feeling Life course through me and then stalking me.

Yeah, not only was Death following me around, but its counterpart. That made me... what? A walking embodiment of a zombie? Living yet dead? A dead man walking?

A headache throbbed, hammering my insides and forcing my brain to shut down. My head pounded to the fluttering thrum of my heart from overuse. No more thinking or else I'll explode, my mind told me.

I agree, I thought dryly, rubbing at my temples to no avail. Groaning, I covered my eyes with the crook of my elbow and lay on the ground, sending up more dust to tickle my nose.

This whole year has been confusing, a complicated, complex befuddlement. With each question I attempted to answer, more emerged. Every turn led to a dead-end, and then I would have to backtrack, only to get even more lost than before. People—spirits, ghosts, beings, things—would try to lead me, but then would leave me helpless by a cliff that was crumbling. I was falling, tumbling into an empty abyss, and all I could do was try to slow the fall.

I had no leads. No hints. Not a single nudge in the right direction, if there even was one. I was lost and confused and alone. There was no one to share the burden with.

Find the other. That was the deal maker, I suppose. I needed someone to help me, because I couldn't do all of this on my own. I couldn't. I couldn't face Death. I couldn't even understand the point of me running in the first place—besides not dying again.

Sitting up, I stretched out my legs and stared up at the noonday sun. Wasting time was no longer an option. I hopped up and continued down the path at a decent pace.

I yelled to the sky, "Okay, Life, I'll do what you want, whatever it is.