Silent Screams

Chapter 2: He's Warm

Please... kill me.

Perched atop a weathered billboard overlooking the desolate campus, I sit with a peanut butter sandwich in one hand and binoculars in the other. There's a building beneath this billboard. I imagine there's a zombie near the top floor because try as I might...

... I can't tune him out.

Why... did this happen... to me? What did I... do wrong?

He, too, was a college student once, a fact he often reminisces about in his ceaseless mental hum. I guess, when you become a zombie, you have a lot of time to think... a lot of time to experience.

How... long... will my body go on like this?

From what I know, there's no telling. I've seen zombies reduced to mere severed heads, yet their humans still endure, imprisoned within their decaying shells. If I had to guess, your nightmare ends when your brain is no longer intact.

That's the only thing that's really yours anymore after you turn.

"Typical..." I remark to myself before going in for another bite.

The zombies have gotten slower, most are no longer the runners they were when they first turned, but they are still moving. I have it on good authority that some of them haven't eaten anyone for weeks. I'm willing to bet this one hasn't since everything started. Maybe that's the reason they've gotten slower, they haven't the calories.

I hope Eve is okay...

Eve is his girlfrie- ex girlfriend. He was thinking about her earlier. Apparently, they were at a college party when it all happened. If I understand correctly, the sexual tension between them built to such a climax that they locked themselves in a room to relieve it. I mean, that was their plan anyway... until the guy planted an all too painful hickey on the girl and the girl pushed him off, ran out the door, and locked him in that room. Not an official breakup, of course, but I think it's final enough.

I take one last bite out of my sandwich, savoring the nutty flavor. Supplies are dwindling, a fact that compels me to venture closer to the streets. That sucks for a number of reasons... not only because that means inviting the orchestra of the zombie's humans into my mind, but also because this billboard is a safe haven. Thoughts have a hard time traveling up here and so do the zombies. It's a nice trick I caught on to in this apocalypse.

You learn a lot in 3 weeks.

Looking through my binoculars, I survey the area. I catch sight of a grocery store; in the amount of time it has been, I figure it's already been ransacked for everything. Changing view, I see that there is an apartment building just on the corner from it. Something that survivors tend to forget is that people, before they turned, stored food in their homes.

I stand to my feet.

Sure, most people would say it's too dangerous to venture into apartments, and they'd be correct in saying so. There's no telling how many zombies are lurking within. However, because of my blessed curse... I have the honor of hearing any zombie that could be a threat before I come in contact with them.

Their humans are just too loud for them to get the drop on me.

bang...

A distant shot breaks the silence, rolling through the empty streets like a fading echo. It's muffled, carried on the cold wind—probably toward the apartment complex nearby.

Someone's panicking.

My eyes run over my baseball bat, the grip hanging out of my bag. I shake my head.