Undead: The Journal of the Thinking Zombie (Short Story)

Chapter 9: Journey's End

I struggle to carry Bri away from the mess, but I manage. I lay her down in some thick grass, shutting her eyes slowly. I look around, seeing little yellow and white flowers dotting the clearing around me. I stumble to the plants, gathering them in my sickly fingers.

When I have enough, I weave them into Bri's hair and around her remaining arm and legs. I make her look even prettier than I already thought she was.

When I finish, I lean down and press a small kiss to her cold, dead lips. I had tried before when she was "alive", but she had always tried to bite my face off. Now, I can finally give her the show of love I had always wanted to.

If only it wasn't too late.

I stand up and stumble away into the trees, my head drooped and my dirty clumps of dark hair falling across my sunken eyes.

What was I trying to accomplish? I can't teach a half-dead person to think. They have to be born with it.

I was a fool. I let myself fall in love with that girl. I set myself up for heartbreak. Why did I waste months and months trying to keep her alive when it would just end like that. Bullet through the head; the ending for so many of my comrades.

Of course, the ending for most humans is a bite from one of us.

Me? I've never killed a person. I've watched them and their families, I've seen their joys and hardships...and I've experienced none of it for myself.

What point is there to life if I'm going to forever remain suspended in this hideous state?

Come to think of it, why should I try? I either want to be completely alive or completely undead. I know that's a weird way to say it, but it's true. I don't want to think anymore. I don't want to understand emotions or pain or anything.

Bri...my undead love. She was all that gave me hope that maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't have to be lonely. Maybe someone could love me for all that I am.

All that I am is a rotting piece of meat whose brain happens to function a little better than that of his comrades.

I'm Zed. But that's all I am.

I stop my walk, realizing that I've reached a stretch of highway. Nearby, a caravan of vehicles with some people wandering around sits.

I take a deep breath, stepping out of the trees. I stand, waiting, but none of the people shoot me or take notice.

"Dad, there's a walker," a woman's voice says.

"Amanda, you know the rules. Only waste the bullet if the thing gets too close," a man's voice responds tiredly.

"It's...just standing there."

"Good. One more bullet in my gun."

I watch as the woman who was talking, Amanda, appears around the hood of one of the cars. Her blonde hair, although dirty, still seems to glimmer, and her green eyes shine with curiosity. To me, she looks like an angel of deliverance.

She eyes me hesitantly, but I don't move. She takes a few steps closer, a hand ready on her knife.

"Hullo..." I moan.

She stops, her mouth falling open. "Did...did it talk? Did you talk?"

"Name...Zed..." I groan, pointing to my chest. "Zed...sad..."

She shakes her head. "Sunstroke...I'm having sunstroke."

I take one slow step forwards, clenching my hands together over my frozen heart.

"Zed...lost...woman..." I explain slowly. "Love...her...a...lot..."

Amanda takes a hand off her knife. "You...you loved someone?"

"Bri...dead." I quiver, wanting to cry but knowing that I can't. "Zombie...bride...gone..."

"Bride...you-"

"Don't...want to...live..." I fall to my knees, looking up at her with my dead, yellow eyes. "Kill...Zed..."

"What? But...you're a talking walker! You could be important!" Amanda says, seemingly over her shock.

I shake my head slowly. "Want...to...sleep. No...more...life..."

Her face becomes incredibly sad as she moves even closer, close enough for me to reach out and touch her hand if I wanted.

"Zed? You want to die because you don't have love?" she inquires.

I nod. "No...love. No...purpose..."

She reaches out for my hand. "I'll help you, Zed. I will."

I move my arm slowly, trying to envelope her hand in mine. Just once, I want to feel the touch of a human.

"MANDY! NO!" a deep voice screams.

A man with greying hair appears and raises his gun, ready to shoot.

"DAD! NO!" Amanda shouts, but it's too late.

The shot goes off. A blinding pain rockets through my head, making a rush of air leave my lungs. I collapse to my knees, feeling my body grow weightless as I fall the rest of the way to the ground.

I land in warm arms, my vision fading as I look up at the blonde woman who wanted to help me; Amanda, my angel. Her scent, warm and inviting, surrounds me. For a moment, I imagine that this must be what having a mother would feel like.

"Zed?" she whispers, looking down at me with a sort of softness.

I smile weakly. "Zed...happy..."

I shut my eyes, feeling myself detach as I finally get to go and be where I belong, embracing death like an old friend.