WalkerZ - A Zombie Apocalypse Story

Chapter 12 - First Contact

Marcia looked at the dog and frowned. "Alan, you've failed me."

The dog whined and looked at the floor, but Merryn rubbed his ears and looked over at the older woman. "This one's a little different Marcia, we shouldn't blame Alan for not spotting him. Stan's something other than a normal walker."

"Stan?"

"I thought he looked a bit like Stan Laurel," said Andrew.

Marcia looked out the window. "Laurel and Hardy never looked that bad, even when they were in black and white films. Is he carrying a club?"

"He certainly is." Merryn looked around at the group. "Anyone up for a first contact situation?"

"I'll do it," said Hope. "You and I should go Merryn, 'cos we're a little different too."

Merryn nodded. "Andrew, Eddie, keep a watch on Stan, please. I doubt he's going to be able to leap the fence or anything, but it's better to be safe than sorry."

Merryn and Hope walked to the door as Andrew and Eddie took up positions by the window, careful to keep their weapons out of sight.

As they walked towards the fence and Stan standing on the other side of the wire, Hope pulled up her sleeve exposing the bite mark in her flesh. She stopped a few metres from the fence and looked at Stan. Dark eyes looked back. Stan was gaunt, leathery flesh sticking to his bones, his hands gnarled and twisted, head tilted at an angle, and lank dark hair hanging in patches from his scalp. The tattered and rotting remains of clothing clung to his frame, and the smell of him hit them. Merryn coughed to cover her displeasure and Stan's gaze swung to her.

"My name is Merryn, this is Hope."

Stan raised a hand but said nothing.

"Do you understand me?"

Stan nodded.

"Can you speak?"

Stan shook his head.

"Ok, can I ask you some questions?"

Stan nodded, and piece by piece, question by question, she and Hope worked out his history and knowledge.

After half an hour or so Hope held up a hand. "We need a break Stan, is that ok?"

Stan nodded then pointed at the pile of zombies by the fence.

"You'd like to help us move them?"

He nodded again.

"Well, thank you, that would be helpful. There's a peat bog just over there, where the change in vegetation is. Could you move them there? But please be careful, we don't want you to slip into it."

Stan nodded and moved away. They watched in silence for a moment, then turned away as Stan came across a walker that was still twitching. The piece of timber moved in a short, brutal arc dispatching it, and Stan carried on.

Merryn and Hope moved back to the hut.

"Well at least he's tidying up," said Marcia. "Saves me a job."

"He's picked up two of them in one go," said Andrew. "Stan's pretty useful."

"He can't speak, but he can communicate if we ask simple questions." Merryn paused and sighed, and Marcia pressed a cup of tea into her hands prompting a wan smile. "Poor old Stan, I feel sorry for him. He doesn't fit in either world now: he got bitten, but woke up as he is now, sorta zombied but not quite. He's remained human enough that he knows what he is, knows he's not human anymore, but he doesn't remember anything of his past life. But he also knows he wants to help us, to be with humans."