A Day in the Unlife.

I was in the old Supr Mart, checking the meat department, when I saw her. The late-afternoon sun shone through the windows, hiding me from her view. I studied her for a moment. She was skinny, like most survivors, with long, stringy arms and legs. She wore some ratty jeans, a green T-shirt that read "May the Forest be With You", and an overlarge denim jacket. Her brown eyes scanned in all directions, her brunette hair glinting in the sunlight as she searched for my brethren. I decided to take a chance and speak to her.

"Hello," I said, opening the door. I kept to the shadows, hiding my condition. Humans are notoriously quick to headshot first and ask questions later when my kind are concerned.

"Are you a zombie?" she asked.

Obviously, my attempts had failed. I stepped out of the shadows into the late afternoon sunlight. "Technically, yes," I replied.

"I've never heard of a talking zombie before." She didn't immediately pull a gun, which was encouraging.

"In rare cases, we can regain our intelligence." I kept my distance to put her at ease. "What's your name?"

"Alice. Are you going to eat me?" she asked. 

"I don't eat people when I can avoid it," I said, moving a little closer. "It's nice to talk to people from time to time. Most zombies are not excellent conversationalists."

Alice looked at me quizzically. She didn't move away, but looked as if she would bolt if I made the wrong move. "What do you eat then?"

"Most of the things I did when I was human: cows, pigs, chickens, etc. The only difference is I don't have to wait to cook them beforehand."

She looked thoughtful. I took another moment to study her. She was young, possibly in her late teens or early twenties. That meant she was a child when the event happened. The fact that she had survived the last ten years, seemingly alone, impressed me.

"Don't you get sick?"

"Have you ever seen a zombie get sick?"

"I guess not."

"Thing is, even if I don't get physically ill," I said, tapping the side of my head, "I'm still repulsed by it. I usually wind up cooking it to avoid that sensation."

"I haven't had a hot meal in weeks," she said. She looked like it had been longer than that.

"I can whip you up something if you like." It had been a long time since I had some company. It would be nice to have a chat.

"I don't know if I trust you just yet."

"A sensible response," I told her. I spread my hands in a gesture of peace. "Have I attacked you yet? You can trust me."

"I don't know."

I looked around. The sun was getting low in the sky. "Look, it will be dark soon. My mindless brethren get more active at night. You won't be safe here in this alleyway. I have a place on the outskirts of town. If we go now, we can get there before sunset."

"Will you tell me what it's like to be a zombie?"

I started walking, Alice following a step or two behind me. "What do you want to know?" I asked.

"Why don't you eat people?"

"I did before I regained myself," I started. "When a zombie eats a human brain, they experience what that human experienced in the last 24 hours. The human I ate just before my intelligence returned was the most bigoted and hateful human being you'd ever want to meet. I decided that I didn't want to risk experiencing that again."

Alice thought about that for a minute. "Is that why zombies eat people? To feel human again?"

"Maybe. I think every zombie has a chance to regain their intelligence, but the sensations felt while eating are like a highly addictive drug. The need to feed the addiction drives out any other thoughts, and the chance to regain their intelligence eventually becomes lost."

"How long have you been a zombie?"

"I'm not quite sure. I only regained my intelligence six months ago."

"Have you seen many other zombies like yourself?"

"A few. Most were content to keep clear of humans, but there was this husband and wife back East that were real pieces of work."

I told her about Elise and Jack. They would lure victims into their home by pretending to be survivors. Once inside, the unfortunate souls would be tortured for hours before being eaten. Elise and Jack would then revel in the pain and fear they inflicted.

"That's terrible!" Alice exclaimed when I had finished my tale. "What happened to them?"

"I firebombed their house while they were feasting on their latest victim."

"So, you see yourself as a kind of zombie vigilante?"

"Not really. I was just in a position to do something."

Suddenly, she turned her head and looked around. "Wait, I hear something."

She had sharp senses. I hadn't detected anything. I sniffed the air. "Another human by the smell of it. I'll hide over here until I know it's safe." I faded into the shadows.

"I won't give you away right yet." She put a hand under her jacket, where I assumed she had a weapon.

"Thank you," I replied, keeping her in view.

"Hello, who's there?" she asked.

A shabbily dressed man in his late fifties came around the far corner of an abandoned church. His shaggy brown beard was streaked with gray. Wisps of hair peeked out of a grey knit cap. His face split into a snaggle-toothed grin as he saw her. "Well, well, well, what do we have here? A little girl out on her own? Little girl isn't safe out here."

"I can look out for myself. I've wasted some shamblers," she said, her tone defiant.

"Who said anything about shamblers? Little girl makes a tempting target for a lonely man like me."

She backed away. "Stay away from me!"

"Little girl, don't be that way." He advanced towards her. I could see the lust in his eyes.

"I'll scream!"

"What? And bring down shamblers on us? I don't think you're that stupid." With surprising speed, he grabbed her and put a knife to her throat. "Maybe this will make you a little more reasonable."

"Please stop! You're hurting me!" She struggled in vain to pull herself free.

He turned her around and slapped her. "Stop struggling! I'll cut you, do you hear?"

I emerged from the shadows. He looked up, surprised. "Hey, where did you come from? This one's mine; get your own."

"Let her go," I hissed.

"Like hell I will," he replied, pulling her closer.

"Let her go," I repeated, menace filling my voice. He didn't move and pressed his knife into her throat. A drop of blood appeared at the tip. "Last chance. Let her go, and you can walk away."

"I'll kill you!" he shouted. He pushed Alice to the ground and rushed me. His knife plunged into me, scraping across a rib. Triumph spread across his face, replaced by fear when I didn't fall. "What? You should be dead! What are you? Keep away from me! Keep-"

I broke his neck, silencing him forever. I went over to where Alice lay on the ground, facing away from me, blood pooling underneath her. I turned her over and saw a jagged cut near her collarbone. The human must have cut her when he pushed her to the ground. I ripped some cloth from my shirt, placing it on her wound. "Hold this here," I instructed, placing her hand on the makeshift bandage. "Keep pressure on it. I'll patch you up when we get to my place." I picked her up, like a child. She was incredibly light.

Alice looked up at me. "What about that man?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"I've taken care of him. Let's get you out of here. Shamblers are drawn to dead bodies like moths to a flame." I began walking towards my home, gradually increasing my speed until I was running. Alice lolled in my arms, fading into unconsciousness.

I carried Alice through back alleys toward my hideout on the outskirts of town. Once the property of doomsday preppers, the site consisted of a house standing on two acres of land. An electrified barbed wire fence surrounded the property. Solar panels stood on the west side of the compound, powering the fence and the house. The compound sported an overgrown field which had been a garden, and an animal pen devoid of livestock. I opened the access panel and entered the code I had found on the prepper's corpse two months earlier. The gate slid open, and I took Alice inside, turning on the lights. Black garbage bags, taped to the windows by the preppers, no doubt to hide their presence. It hadn't worked. Survivors killed the preppers and looted the house.

I placed Alice on an overstuffed couch and inspected the wound. Blood had soaked through the bandage and into her denim jacket. The human must have nicked a vein. Alice's face had turned a deathly pale. I feared for her life.

Alice's eyes fluttered open. "He stabbed me." She looked at me, fear in her eyes. "Am I gonna die?"

"You've lost a lot of blood," I replied. 

She reached up and grabbed my shirt. "Turn me," she said.

"What?" I asked incredulously.

Tears filled her eyes. "I don't wanna die. I wanna be like you."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "You might not turn out like me. You might become just another shambler."

I could sense her desperation to hold onto life, any kind of life. "I don't care," she screamed. "I don't wanna die! Please!"

I fought an internal battle as Alice lay on the couch, dying. Did I have the right to turn her?

Alice pulled me closer. "Please, just bite me!"

Her pleading made my decision for me. I took her arm and pulled up the sleeve. She looked at me and nodded slightly. I bit down, just enough to break the skin. Her breath caught as I did so.

"How long?" she asked.

"Within the next few minutes. I don't know how long after that you'll regain yourself, if ever."

"Will you watch over me?"

I took her hand. "Of course, I will."

Her breathing became erratic as the virus took hold. Her eyes rolled back, and she began to shake. I held her hand until she calmed and took her last breath as a mortal. I sat on the floor beside her and waited.