What Souls are Made Of

Chapter 6

"You're gonna need a car," Avi began over breakfast the following day.

I let out a heavy sigh. Avi refused to come with me, and I refused to stay. Venturing out alone gave me pause, but I knew Sarah was out there, and I needed to find her. If I didn't, if I gave up on her, then I may as well be a mindless brain pirate.

"I think I have one you may like," Avi offered. "Well, technically, Keeler has one, but again I like to think he is working in Nashville for a bit."

"What will you do? Just hang around here and feed the fish?" I asked as I followed him down to the garage.

"Someone has to," he shrugged.

"Don't you want more?"

He thoughtfully pondered my question for a moment. "I'm not sure if I deserve more," Avi's voice stayed even in and smooth despite the heavy admission. "Someday, I hope to make it to Nashville; say thanks."

"Really?" The small plan in Avi's mind gave me hope. "When I find Sarah, we'll come back and go with you."

Avi gave a curt nod before tossing me a set of keys and nodding to a car. My eyes flickered at first, expecting something normal, average. But my face snapped back as soon as the car registered in my mind.

"No, fucking way." I let my hand course over the jet-black body of a 1964 Mercury Comet.

"I suspect there aren't many road trips happening these days. If you're going to stick out, you might as well do it in style." Avi tried to maintain his placid face, but a hint of a smile betrayed his attempt. "Come on; we can give it a whirl while we head out for more fish food."

It was easier to breathe on sunny days. Smiling was almost effortless from a drop-top Comet on the bright day. For a moment, I wasn't dead, and zombies didn't exist. For a moment, Sarah was at home, and I was just hanging out with a buddy. So what if Avi wore his hood up and sunglasses in the pet store. Life was good. It was that moment, the pinnacle of the roller coaster. I let my hand course over the black dash as Avi paid. My eyes flicked up a moment too late. If I had been paying attention, I would have seen it. I would have given him more of a warning, but I didn't.

Avi's hand landed on the push of the door as the clerk subtly dipped to grab at something below the counter. I knew what was happening. Avi watched my eyes grow and knew what was coming. But his eyes didn't widen with fear; instead, a smile spread across his face, a smile of relief. In his last second, he lifted the fish food and gave me a slight nod. It was a request, take care of the fish. And then the door was obscured by splatter. I didn't even hear the gunshot; I just saw the black ooze and Avi's body slumping to the ground.

It was the relief that lingered. In the final moment of Avi's existence, he was relieved. This was no longer his world. This was not what he wanted. There were no sunny days nor easy moments for a zombie. Every moment was a struggle, a fight for the next moment, for every piece of your soul that you could cling to as a reminder of who you once were. Avi had the fish; I had Sarah.

I don't remember the ride home, but I know there were no tears. Avi wouldn't want them. He would indeed wonder the point of mourning since he was already dead. We both were dead. If I had died in the exact same moment as Avi, no one would have mourned either of us. Was it worth chasing after some hope that Sarah was out there? Was it worth building a castle around the assumption that she wouldn't shoot me dead at first sight?

The thoughts were loud and distracting; even the radio couldn't drown them. Avi's fish sloshed in a mason jar in the passenger seat as I pulled out of LA. I had to find my solace. I had to find my person to pull me from these thoughts. I needed Sarah. But first, I needed gas.

Pay at the pump is clutch when you want to avoid Avi's fate. Dipped head, hoodie pulled up, sunglasses hiding the darkness my eyes held, all work together from a distance to cause no alarm and going at sundown assured that few people would be around even to care. The few people I did pass were more focused on the car than the driver. It had been Avi's intent. I wasn't the novelty; the car was.

I leaned against Avi's last gift as I let my eyes linger down the road. The crowd swelled fast. They were scurrying like ants with an urgent goal.

"Fuck," slipped from my lips as I saw her.

She was smart. Not smart enough to stay the fuck away from a zombie-infused neighborhood, but intelligent enough to know when you have a horde of zombies chasing after you, don't look back and run in zig-zags. They may be fast, but they are not wise. If you zig, they will also zig.

Something surged in me. One person had already died in front of me on that day; I couldn't let a second. I gunned the car and spun around to meet her. A few feet in front of her sprint, I turned again and flicked open the door. The wheels squealed at the unexpected halt, but only the girl noticed. A bomb could go off, and all the zombies would know is their feast would be bar-b-qued.

She paused for the slightest of moments. I couldn't tell if it was because of me or the car.

"Get in," my voice came gruffer than needed, and if some survival mode had caused her pause at my presence, I would not have dissuaded the urge with my tone. I lingered there, trying to envision what was going through her mind as a shadowy figure barked at her from behind Ray-ban Wayfarers. The sunglasses alone were suspicious, but the sunglasses, blackened windows, coupled with nighttime, she knew something was amiss. Still, there was no time to explain the existence of conscious zombies. "You coming?" Impatience rattled through my voice.

She climbed in; it was her only option, even if there was the little thought that she was leaving a hoard of zombies for a lone zombie; it was the question of certain death versus potential death. The car peeled away with a squeal to accent her choice as the enticing scent of fresh brains filled my nose.