Everyone Un-Died + My Gardener Bit Me: The Oral History of the Zombie Apocalypse

Loose Ends

And suddenly, it felt like the story was over. Our last chance at Deus Ex Macina lays in ruins thanks to a military man's pride. Meanwhile, a decapitated zombie stalks the halls of the White House, bumping into walls. And everywhere I look, all I see is the undead. The frogs boiled, the scorpions stung. And the only thing left is to tie up a few loose ends.

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Nancy Spark

OK, so with the benefit of hindsight, are you still sure that masterminding — well, mistressminding — Clem's rise to power was a good idea?

It's not my place to say. The people have spoken and for the most part, what they said was, Rrrrr!

You don't feel any responsibility?

Either you believe in democracy or you don't. The zombies in Saudi Arabia aren't even allowed to vote. Is that what you want?

I guess not, but I still don't see the logic of supporting Clem. Did you really think he'd do a good job?

Honestly, I hoped that he'd grow in office.

You seriously thought a headless zombie would grow?

I figured we would surround him with the best and the brightest.

Like who?

Like me.

And?

Just me. But I give him advice every single day.

Does he listen?

He doesn't have a head so... no. Not so much.

Do you really not see what a catastrophe Clem is?

I'm not blind. I know that Clem — in both his human and zombie personae — was the least qualified, most dangerously inept and temperamentally unsuited person to hold that office. But I choose to not dwell on the mistakes of the past; instead, I am focused on challenges of the future.

And what challenges would those be?

Why, sweetie, his reelection, of course!

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Mirabel

As you know, in order to get the cure, I had to apologize to Lila for... Well, it was a very long list and she had committed it to memory, which was surprising because she is such a scatterbrain. She gets locked out of her BMW at least three times a day — mostly because her car is actually a Mercedes — but she can remember every slight she has suffered, real or imaginary, in great detail. She is a one-woman Excel spreadsheet of grievance.

Giving her the satisfaction of an apology was the most painful thing I have ever experienced. More painful than losing my arm. More painful, even, than losing my other arm, thanks to the infection I got when when Lila inoculated me with a non-sterilized needle. Apparently they're reusing syringes because they have become prohibitively expensive for some unknown reason.

I did not do this for myself. I did this for Holly Anne. True, she is a thoroughly abhorrent child — she is Veruca Salt without the charm — but she is a child and every child deserves a chance. So I took her away from her mother and started raising her on my own. I am sure Quicki is upset — or will be if she notices that her daughter is gone (it has been two weeks and so far, nothing) — but if the human race does survive, I want to make sure there is at least one good person in it. Will it make a difference? Probably not. But this is my curse: there is something in me that cannot not try.