Disclaimer: I do not own nor am I in any way affiliated with the tv series The Walking Dead. Likewise I am not Bernie Sanders nor do I claim personal knowledge of Bernie Sander's inner thoughts. The following could be an accurate representation of how Bernie would act if thrown into a world full of zombies, or it could be completely fallacious. Either way, I suspect it would be difficult to prove.
The following is written with no expectation or acceptance of monetary compensation nor disrespect towards Bernie Sanders.
Bernie Sanders vs The Walking Dead
Chapter 1:
There was no smooth transition, no slow awakening. One moment I slept, the next I stood in an unfamiliar land; vast trees towering overhead. Slender, small and smooth, these weren't my hands. Was I still dreaming? It didn't feel like a dream, nor a memory.
A groan broke the silence of the woods. I turned and saw a monster. Or, perhaps, a man, though I had never seen yet living that was in so foul a state. The smell of it was as horrific as its appearance. I gagged as I caught sight of the intestines hanging from his stomach. I'd heard that death from belly wounds could be slow, but how could he possibly still be walking around.
Perhaps it was his stature that gave him fortitude beyond most men. He had a head and shoulders on me, making him at least seven feet tall. Wide too, though it looked like he'd been less skinny in the past. "Hello?"
I'd hoped for some sign of recognition, something other than that hungry, cataract-stricken stare. As he grew closer I took a step back involuntarily, then another. "Stay back," I said, voice strangely high. I could feel my heart beating in my chest, faster than it had gone in decades. "I can get you help, just stay where you are."
I didn't trust to words alone, checking the woods around me for escape routes as I backpedaled. Rightly, it seemed, as the half-dead man still showed no signs of coming to reason. It appeared more and more likely that he was suffering from some sort malady apart from the injury. Whether it was shock, mental illness, or a virus, I couldn't say, but I was quite certain that with hands that large he could snap my neck like a twig.
A moan from another pestilent man, this time with a missing ear, convinced me it was time to leave. I turned and began speedwalking away, somewhat faster than the fetid men behind me.
'Strange, there's no pain.' In recent years I'd had occasional flareups of gout and a touch of arthritis in the mornings, but there was no pain now as I walked my fastest. But was this as fast as I could go? These weren't my hands, so why not different legs as well? For that matter, I was beginning to suspect the men behind me weren't giants at all, I was simply shorter.
Testing my hypothesis about having a different body I broke into a cautious run. It had been… quite some time since I last ran. I'd half-forgotten the rhythm, but it came back soon enough. God, I'd missed this. The adrenaline, the wind on my face as it streamed back through the long hair I'd once cultivated… it was simplicity and purpose intertwined. Whatever body this was, it was sure-footed and limber. Young, too, I suspected. Weak though, even weaker in arm strength than in leg. Assuming the lungs and heart held out I could probably keep going another mile or two at this pace, perhaps four if I pushed it beyond its limits and didn't mind being sore for days.
It was impossible to tell what was the correct decision with the information I had. I had the sun to guide me in a largely straight path, but no way to know which direction to travel. Four miles could carry me to civilization, an abandoned stone quarry, or even deeper into the wilderness. I could slow down, but I'd prefer to lose the men behind me if I could. I had no way of knowing how long I'd be in this place, in this body, but if I were to suddenly vacate it I'd feel better knowing I wasn't leaving them in imminent danger.
"Shit." I skidded to a halt as a horde appeared in front of me out of the shadows of the woods. It was obvious now that the two men before weren't unique occurrences. There was no telling how many of them there were in these forsaken woods.
Was this hell? purgatory? Even if it was, I didn't plan on just giving up. I was thirsty though, untrained body already growing tired. My options were growing fewer all the time. Marshalling my energy I took off perpendicularly to the horde.
"Aoohrh." A hand grasped at me as I passed a large oak.
I recoiled. "Don't touch me!" I fell, tumbling. I was back on my feet in moments but the damage was done. The group I'd seen had only been a small part of a large crescent-moon of diseased walkers, and now they'd closed around me. As they drew closer, mouths slavering, a part of me realized that despite the absurdity of the notion they intended to bite me. There was no reasoning with, no escape.
Except one. The walker that had sought to grab me had fallen as well, now crawling towards me on hands and knees. I confused it by leaping to the side before running onto its back, leaping up for the tree branch above it. My arms and hands burned from the strain but I held on, swinging a leg upwards. I caught the side of the branch but my foot lost purchase, sliding off. 'Come on!' I swung my feet towards the tree this time instead of the branch, feet just barely reaching the trunk. I walked up its surface until I straddled the branch. Locking my ankles around it I swung myself upright, and just in time judging by the fingers that brushed the edge of my t-shirt.
"Fuck off you bastards," I shouted with uncharacteristic hatred and color. Heart still beating rabbit-quick I made my way to the notch of a higher branch, hoping all the while that they wouldn't climb after me. Luck was with me, for it appeared that whatever robbed them of their sanity had also taken their intelligence. The lot of them, at least a hundred in all, mulled around the base of the tree, hands grasping at the sky.
There was a growing dread in my chest as examined their bodies closer. Dried blood was everywhere, clothes tattered and rotting, faces marred by decay, but it was what was missing that was truly damning. How could they be alive missing arms, missing ears and eyes and lungs and heart? But I knew the answer. It was simple, in retrospect.
They weren't alive at all.
It was impossible, but so was everything since I awoke. The impossible was now my reality. I was in a hellish world full of golems, or in American terms, zombies. And I had no idea how to get out.