I wish I knew how this all happened. The world used to be so full of wonder. Now, all of the sudden, everything's in ruins. As I fly over the city streets that were once teeming with life, all I find is a couple corpses and some Bonies. A light snow starts to fall. I can't help it. I have to stifle a laugh as a zombie looks up in confusion. I come to a smooth landing on a runway, examining the sight that greets me. Zombies cannot get cold, so a few of them wander outside. One just stands, glued to her spot, her head lolling lazily to the side. Dark, dried blood lines her cracked lips. I can't resist. I form a snowball in my hand and toss it. It hits the side of her head, and she spins around, groaning. The laughter that escapes me can't be contained. I know I shouldn't bother them. They didn't ask to be like this. Though this is my only interaction with anyone who's not a spirit. I keep walking down the runway, not even sure why I'm here. This place gives me the creeps. It's crawling with Bonies. I spot a few of them, walking in a pack. While the corpses move at a slow pace, those guys can get around with stealth. It doesn't help the freaky factor. Their jaw bones click as they hunt for a source of food. I set my gaze in front of me, glad I'm invisible to them.
A small cluster of children shuffle by me, making that gurgling noise again, though their eyes still have no light. The tattered ends of a girl's dress gets snagged on a leafless plant, and she struggles to move forward. She grunts in annoyance, her cold eyes darting around. Sympathy for her fills me, and I unhook the twig from her dress. She may be dead, but she's still just a kid. She steps forward in her new found freedom, looking around in confusion as to what helped her. However she forgets about it quickly and does her best to catch up with the others, who are as close to friendship as it gets. I look towards the building in front of me. Through its dirtied windows, I can see its swarming with zombies. I've never been there before. Curiosity gets the best of me, and I find myself making my way toward it. It's almost like I've got no control over my feet. The logical side of my brain kicks in.
What are you doing, Jack?! it shouts. This is stupid. Turn around! I ignore it. The adventurous side urges me to keep going.
As soon as I step into the ruined building, the first thing I notice is an overpowering stench. It smells of rotting flesh and garbage.
"Agh! That's disgusting!" I exclaim, pulling my hoodie over my nose. The horrid smell almost seems to seep through the fabric, and I have to throw my hand over my nose as well. I start walking, examining the scene around me. Dust, dirt, and trash litter the floors. Chairs are overturned. The dead make their way around, with no certain destination. Bonies are on the prowl, like predators stalking their prey. A few corpses feast in the corner, and I bring my hood over my head. That's not something I would enjoy watching.
Somewhere, an old generator kicks in, and the lights flicker on. No one pays attention to it. One of them, however, takes the electricity to his advantage. He shuffles towards the escalators and steps on. Scowling, I get a little closer. He stands there, completely still, as the steps decline. Once he reaches the bottom, he turns around and gets right back on. He treats it like a carnival ride. This goes on for a long time until the power fades again. He sighs and walks off. I shake my head, turning.
I don't get very far before a zombie walks right through me. I leap to the side, gasping. It's not that I expected him to see me, it just caught me off guard. I stand there, gathering myself. Only, another one goes through me. A third. A fourth. Annoyance builds in me, and rush toward the exit, still clasping my sweatshirt to my nose. I will never adjust to the smell.
I run towards one of the gates and through the boarding tunnel. At the end, there is no plane connected to it. It's probably long gone, maybe even crashed somewhere. The tunnel just stops, letting the cool air in. I look around me. The height is no problem. Without the slightest bit of hesitation, I jump off the platform. I peacefully drift to the ground, my feet meeting asphalt. I can see the kids that I encountered earlier playing in the distance. A mischievous smirk dominates my lips, and I scoop up a bit of snow from the layer that has already collected on the ground. I go to throw it, but my hand freezes in the air. Even if it hits one of them, it won't count for anything. Corpse kids aren't ones for snowball fights. They'll just get all confused and irritated for a moment, the go back to whatever it was they were doing. I drop the snowball, involuntarily making the snowflakes come down heavier. I sit on the ground, sighing in exasperation.
"Well, this sucks," I mutter under my breath. I sit there for a while, watching the snow build up around me. After a while, I hear a noise from an abandoned plane. I look up towards it to see the corpse from the escalators going up the stairs and closing the door. I raise an eyebrow, following him.
As I walk up the steps, I faintly hear music coming from inside. Questions fly around my head as I pull open the door with a little difficulty. My jaw drops as soon as I see what's inside. Trinkets are scattered all over the plane-on the chairs, on the floor, and on shelves. Bruce Springsteen's Hungry Heart filters through the plane from an old record player. A smirk spreads across my lips. The zombie who just entered moments ago is nowhere to be found. I walk past the collection of souvenirs, stopping at a pile of books. I delicately pick up one, dusting off the worn cover. I immediately recognize it as one of the Harry Potter novels. I flip through the yellowed pages and put it back in its place.
I do not expect it when a hand suddenly grabs my shoulder.
I spin around, screaming. I stumble back a few steps, raising my staff defensively. The zombie stares at me with wide eyes. Seeing him up close, I realize he doesn't look as rotted as the others. There are no dominant gashes on his pale skin, and all his limbs are completely in tact. He has messy black hair, and wears a red hoodie with a gray t-shirt under it. He looks almost sorry. Yet I'm still not sure if I can trust him. Corpses aren't supposed to believe in me.
"How can you see me?!" I exclaim, trying to control my wild breathing without success. He doesn't even grunt. He just stares blankly at me. "Hey, zombie! How can you see me? Make a noise, at least!" There's a short pause, and he shrugs. I jab my staff at him, making him step back a few steps. He raises his hands in surrender. My eyes narrow.
"Well, I hate to break it to you, buddy, but I'm not edible. I'm kinda already dead," I declare. For a second, the corners of his lips twitch, almost as if he's trying to grin. His mouth opens, and he concentrates hard on something. I watch him warily.
"M-me...t-too..." he stutters. Now I'm the one staring at him shock. I lower my staff, relaxing my shoulders.
"You guys can talk?" I ask. He looks down at his feet, shrugging again.
"Some...times," he manages to grumble. I smile, interested.
"Do you have a name?" At the question, a sad look comes onto his face. I didn't know zombies could speak, let alone have emotion. He grimaces, trying to remember.
"Rrr..." he slurs. I lean against my staff.
"So, it started with an R, I assume?" He looks up, nodding. I think for a moment. This feels so unreal, like some deranged dream that Sandy conjured up to tease me. I find myself backing towards the door. "Well, I..um, have to go now. See you later, I guess." He gives me a brisk wave, and I detect a bit of disappointment.
"B-bye," he says as he sits in one of the chairs, swaying to the music. I return the wave and bolt out the door, taking off into the windy skies again. A talking zombie who can see me. My friends ought to hear about this.
