Zombies and You

I think it’s been a year since the zombie outbreak started. Time has always eluded me, but when society collapsed, calendar dates were irrelevant. All I knew was day and night. It’s crazy to think I used to love comic books and movies featuring zombies growing up. I even tried to get my college girlfriend into zombie movies, but she was more into lighthearted rom-coms. Still, I never imagined it happening in real life. Apocalyptic stories were an escape from reality for me, while also reminding me to appreciate my life, and the fact that the only scavenging I had to do was to the grocery stores. But now, what’s left to appreciate? I was living alone, far from anyone I cared about when the outbreak started, and so naturally, I decided I should just survive on my own. I grew to appreciate the silence, but what I didn’t appreciate were those darn zombie groans replacing any type of peaceful nature noises. Additionally, those walking corpses stunk up my fresh air. Why did no one tell me they would smell so pungent? And why did I think they wouldn’t?

From my research, I learned that the best place to be during a zombie invasion was a farm. I was lucky enough to have bought a farm house before the chaos, but not lucky enough to have it set up for longevity. I had chickens but no roosters, cows but no bulls, and a well that had run dry. So, today I made the decision to leave the comfort of my boarded up house to get some more food and water.

The nearby community had been surviving together in the high school. Classrooms became sleeping areas, and the kitchens were perfect for feeding big groups of people. The local farms that were still in operation, supplied what they could to the schools in exchange for hot meals. It was the only place in town to have survived more than a month. This place fostered hope with survivors and somehow, I could breathe a little easier knowing a community could work so well together, even in hard times.

I walked up to the main door and clicked on the little buzzer. My heart was racing. Why did the thought of talking to people again make me more nervous than seeing a hoard of zombies? I shook the nerves away and exhaled.

“Hello, newcomer! Can you state your name and your intentions for entering?” An optimistic voice spoke over the buzzer’s speaker.

“Hello, uh, yeah. My name is Clara Smitters and I was hoping for, uh, some food?” I answered. God, could I sound any more awkward?

“Okay! But, just so you know we don’t do takeaways with the food. So, if you would like a meal, you’ll have to eat here,” The voice said.

“Uhm, oh, okay. I don’t know. I was hoping to get back before nightfall. I’m not very good at seeing zombies in the dark,” I responded, trying to break my awkwardness with a joke.

“We have a room available if you’d prefer to travel back in the morning,” The voice said.

“Oh! I… Yeah. I’ll take a meal and a room for the night. Thank you,” I said. My stomach digesting air did a lot of the self convincing.

The door clicked. I opened the door and entered the building. I was greeted by a buff woman in police body armor.

“Please put all your weapons in this tub, including ammo,” The woman said, gesturing to a metal tub filled with assorted weapons.

I placed my crossbow, arrows, and knives into the container. I lifted my arms so that she could pat me down for hidden weapons, but she looked at me strangely and even a little grossed out. I lowered my arms, now a little self conscious about the state of my appearance.

“So, where’s the cafeteria?” I asked curiously.

“Down the hall, up the stairs, turn left, go halfway down the hall, turn right, and you’ll see the entrance,” The woman said, already bored with me.

“Okay, thanks,” I said, with a small smile. I repeated the directions in my head as I made my way down the hall.

The doors to the classrooms were all open. As I passed them, I glanced inside. There were mattresses and sleeping bags scattered along the floor. Groups of backpacks were leaning against the back wall, probably belonging to the survivors sleeping in the rooms. I took note of the bathroom stalls at the end of the hall, a reminder for myself to find again later.

The hallway leading to the cafeteria must have been mostly windows because there were four large panels being covered by wood on both sides. I bet it used to feel welcoming and warm. Now it’s dark, isolating, and depressing. My house has also succumbed to these sad feelings. But, I embraced it quickly and even grew to love it. I try not to think about how easy it was for me to make that switch. I might start to believe that I’m broken. I’m not.

I heard the chatter of people socializing before I turned the corner and saw a large line filing into the cafeteria. I immediately wanted to turn around and go home, even my hunger temporarily subsided in my panic. I inched closer to the line. I have faced many zombie hoards, I should be able to handle a small crowd of people. Unfortunately, I don’t have that confidence anymore. I turned back around and I saw her. My heart stopped. Her hazel eyes fell onto me. We both looked at each other as if we’d seen a ghost. Maybe she really was a ghost, I hadn’t seen her since college and so much has happened since then. Or maybe, I was hallucinating and the lack of food had finally caught up with me. Either way, she looked great. I spotted only a couple of visible bruises, and her hair actually looked brushed. I had bruises covering my legs and arms, and my hair hasn’t been brushed since I started surviving. My appearance wasn’t a concern until now. Now, I really wish I was wearing a less tattered shirt and had rinsed the dirt off my face.

“Rory? Hi. Hey. How’s it going? Surviving or thriving?” I asked, slightly hating myself.

“Clara, hey. That’s a tough question to answer nowadays, but I think I’m doing better seeing you here,” Rory said, smiling softly.

My cheeks flushed. I didn’t know how to respond to that, but I liked hearing it. I missed her. Her presence lingered around the back of my mind, occasionally rising to the forefront. My thoughts of her became more frequent since the apocalypse started. I was terrified that if I ever saw her again she’d be a zombie. There were a couple zombies that I spared because they looked too much like her. I knew that they weren’t her, and they were dangerous to keep alive, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do what needed to be done. Seeing her made my heart feel lighter. I didn’t realize I was carrying so much weight.

“I’m really glad you’re not a zombie and that your brain is still intact,” I said, sincerely.

“Thank you? I think. But yeah, this outbreak was tough. I was alone for most of the year. Then I found this place, and I’ve been here ever since,” Rory said.

“I really missed you, Rory. We should have been surviving together,” I said.

“Yeah, but don’t you remember why we broke up? You said you wanted to pursue dreams that no longer included me,” Rory said, upset.

“Well, you wanted to conquer New York City after graduation! And neither one of us were willing to compromise,” I said, defensively.

“I guess it doesn’t matter now. We both got what we wanted just as society collapsed,” Rory said.

“Nope. I never got what I wanted,” I said, shaking my head.

“What? Yes you did. I know you bought your dream farm,” Rory said, confused.

“It was an empty promise. It could never be my dream farm. You are what I dreamt about. You gave my world purpose,” I said. I felt like crying and barfing at the same time.

“That’s so sweet of you to say, but it’s too late, Clara,” Rory said. She started to walk away, but I grabbed her arm.

“Is it?” I said, staring into her eyes. She looked down at my lips.

“Maybe I just wanted you to fight for me,” Rory said.

“I should have. I should never have let you go. I just didn’t want to hold you back. Sometimes you have to let the bird fly away, and all those mushy metaphors,” I said, tearing up.

She leaned in and kissed me. Her soft lips brought back warm memories of every moment we’ve ever kissed. Every bit of doubt, hate, and hurt, had dissipated. I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her in.

“W-would you maybe like to kill some zombies with me?” I asked. For once there was a real smile on my face.

“I would love to,” Rory replied.