Memoirs of a Zombie

The sun rises, and we keep walking. We were walking all night, just shuffling along. Night and day, it's all the same to us. We're well over a hundred now and we don't stop for anything. My name is Patrick, and like everyone else in the Family, I'm trucking along. I'm still limping from stuff that happened Before. A lot of us are. We bear the marks of what we did and of what happened Before. As I trudge along, I bump into my buddy Harry. We've known each other since our college days. Harry's big and tall, dark-skinned and bald-headed, and his face is all scratched up. We exchange a look and keep on trucking.

Sometimes, strange thoughts slide into my mind, and I get glimpses of what happened Before. Days when Harry and I were just a pair of young black men playing baseball while attending college. We went to class, we played ball and we chased the pretty ladies. Things seemed so much simpler back then. Those were our glory days alright. Of course that was Before. Everything seemed simpler and happier Before. I try not to dwell on it but sometimes I miss the old days.

"Nothing like a summer day, Pat," is what my father Floyd used to say. I'd be playing video games or reading on the front porch while my father worked in the yard or had himself a beer. My father liked working in the sun and drinking cold beers. I can see his face in my thoughts sometimes. A tall, dark-skinned man with silver hair and a beard. A proud son of west Texas. I remember him taking me to the African American Museum of History when I was younger. Lots of memories of summer days racing through my noggin. About the only thing racing through my mind these days, except for the hunger of course.

My father Floyd passed away a long time ago, in the days that came Before. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like having him as part of the Family, roaming around with us. Harry's got his sister Sophie and her husFamily Grant. They're part of the Family, trudging along in the dirt and grime like the rest of us. In the time Before, I had a crush on Sophie. She was tall, dark-skinned, curvy and hefty in a good way, with a big round bottom. I think all the boys fancied Sophie back then. Nowadays she's quite different. Half her face is messed up, and what's left is bloodied. She chews loudly when she feeds. I still think Sophie is a looker.

The Family roams across the southwestern United States, and from time to time, we encounter some interesting fare. Dogs and cats know to stay away from us by now. It seems that the cows, goats and others didn't quite get the message. The other day, we brought down a large bison. We ate well that day. Harry and I, being among the most sturdy of the Family, helped bring down that bison. It wasn't easy. Damn thing fought for its life, as most critters would. A good feast followed all that struggling. It was a good day.

We roam across the great plains, in lands where cowboys and Indians contended over the great bison herds in ages past. This is the Heartland of America. The place where America's true sons and daughters live. A place where ladies are ladies and men are men. The kind of place where we don't care for fancy talk or made-up words or confused people who don't know anything about the world, including who the fuck they are. Yes sir, that's the land where I was born and raised. The land of good, honest real American people. It's gone to shit now, but it was really something. That was in the days Before, of course.

The snow starts to fall, and I find it annoying. The others find it confusing as hell because it reduces visibility. We don't care about the cold. I've still got my varsity jacket, T-shirt, blue jeans and sneakers on. Normally, this wouldn't be the sort of outfit a man would wear on a day when it's snowing heavily. I can't feel the cold. As I trudge along, I spot this other lady. She joined the Family recently, after her own Family got decimated in a shoot-out. Emily, that's what the name tag on her apron reads.

I think Emily was a waitress in the days Before. She's tall and sturdy, with pale skin that's starting to go grey. Her hair is long and bright red, and her eyes are light blue. Emily reminds me of the Hollywood actress from the X-Files, more than two decades ago, only curvier and with more ass. Once upon a time, I probably would have chatted up Emily if I came into her diner with my boys after a baseball game. I walk past Harry and brush up against Emily. I look into her eyes. A blank, hungry stare, that's all I see in Emily's gaze.

Emily is walking barefoot in the snow, and her apron, work-shirt and minidress are in tatters. Once upon a time, I would have offered Emily my jacket. I find it hard to speak nowadays. Most of the others can barely manage anything more than grunts. We're all walking together but in every way that matters, we're alone. There is no camaraderie between us. Harry and I knew each other Before, and this seems to make us stick together. Most of the others don't have that, so they're not really a Family. Just strangers traveling together. Not unlike how things were on public transit in the days Before, come to think of it.

We keep walking, through rain, sleet and snow. Please don't romanticize it because there's nothing romantic about it. We're not great adventurers or explorers. We are simply tired, and hungry, so very hungry. We're tired, but we never stop. The only times we stop is to hunt, and feed. We don't stop to sleep. We don't stop to rest. We're more tireless than the most dedicated of machines, since they at least need to be powered down for refueling or some sort of maintenance. We don't have that luxury. We are what we are.

After a few hours, the snow subsides, and it's a welcome thing. if I could feel relief, I'd be relieved. We're still waddling through snow that's ankle-deep or even knee-deep but it's not falling on our heads no more. Suddenly, something catches the others attention. Instantly I perk up. Is it a deer? Bison? Elk? A herd of caribou? A mighty puma? A wolf pack? A bear? A pack of coyotes? Lions or tigers escaped from zoos? Jaguars? We are not picky. We're always hungry so anything will do. Just about anything that cannot get away fast enough will be grabbed, held down and devoured. At the end of the day, we devour all.

In the distance, I finally see it. A fortified place. A bunch of houses, surrounded by a forty-foot wall. It is the most impressive installation I've seen in a while. I can smell warm cozy fires, and underneath the smell of smoke, the most enticing scent in the universe. The smell of humans. There are dozens of them in there. We haven't come across a bounty like in many, many months. Humans have become somewhat scarce since the Thing happened. In the time Before, they were plentiful, but not anymore. Such a pity, really.

I look around, and scan the faces of the Family members closest to me. Harry is licking his lips with his fat, greying tongue. Sophie's fingers are twitching. Grant is practically chafing at the bit. I look into Emily's eyes and the vacant look is gone, replaced by an almost lustful look. Her face twists into a monstrous, wickedly beautiful smile. There's an energy about her now. I feel the same energy emanating from every member of the Family. Man or woman, pale-skinned or dark-skinned, young or old, whatever we were in the time Before, we're united now. United by the sort of hunger that cannot be explained. Our hunger wouldn't end even if we devoured the whole damn world.

"Let's eat," I mumble. The others don't hear me. or Perhaps they do. Whatever. Driven by hunger, we shuffle toward the human settlement. We surround the wall. On its ramparts, armed men and women take aim at us with high-powered rifles. These wretched souls haven't survived this long in the apocalypse without being experts when it comes to disposing of our kind. I let out a mighty roar, as does Harry. Sophie, Grant, Emily, everyone is roaring and moaning. We grasp toward the sky with empty, claw-like hands. We want to eat. We want to feed. We want to devour the humans. They're the most delicious things in the entire universe.

I feel something strike my shoulder. I don't feel pain. I barely feel anything. Something thuds against Harry's chest. It blows a hole in Harry's chest. He shrugs it off. We gather at the bottom of the wall and start ramping up. We climb all over each other. The humans continue to fire. We lose some of our members. Sophie's head gets blown off. Grant lets out an angry roar, and then falls down with a hole in his forehead. Emily, Harry and I continue the attack, along with the others.

We are riddled with holes by the time we reach the ramparts. I reach for the nearest human, a tall, dark-skinned female with a big gun. She's wearing military fatigues and her name tag reads Alissa. After running out of bullets, Alissa pulls out a large knife and plunges it into my chest. I grab Alissa and sank my teeth into her neck. We tumble from the ramparts. The humans fight fiercely, and many of us are killed. I lose track of time as I feed upon Alissa. How I love the taste of her.

Many hours later, a quiet reigns over the former human settlement. We've lost many of our Family mates, but we shall replenish our ranks soon enough. One bite, one scratch, that's all it takes to transform a human into one of us. I have a bit more restraint than the others. I patiently wait for Alissa to rise. As her humanity recedes away, Alissa awakens to the zombie state. She tries to talk, but a guttural moan comes out. I smile and welcome Alissa into the Family. I look for Harry, and Emily, and I find them. They're barely able to walk now, and are riddled with bullets, but they're still with us.

"Family," I say to Alissa, and she says the word, but barely. My smile broadens. Alissa will retain some of her former self for a few days or weeks, and then she will become as mindless as the rest of the horde. For those few days or weeks, she will be like me. One of the smart ones. I pull Alissa's knife out of my chest and put it in her chest. As a joke, of course. Alissa looks at me and shrugs, and then she joins the others while hunting for survivors. We find a few, men and women, and whole families. We feast, and our numbers grow.

The Family has grown and it's a beautiful thing. Sure, having more mouths to feed complicates things but there's strength in numbers. There are other human settlements out there, of course. The humans have guns, tanks, bombs, helicopters, warships and fortified settlements with high walls, patrolled by armed men and women at all hours. Let them gather. Let them arm themselves. Let them be brave, wholesome, courageous, loving and stoic. Let them be spiteful and nasty. We will devour them just the same. We're zombies, you see, and that's what we do. It's not our fault you humans are so damned delicious!