Ashley watched the trees pass by as she hazily stared out the car window. Her headache was palpable.
TUESDAY
The car dried off with the crisp air cruising 48mph against it. Leaves lay plastered on the pavement, a symptom that earned the stretch of road the nickname "The Slip n' Slide." Claire would often cite the treacherous autumn driving conditions as a central reason for living there ("No tourists driving by and sight-seeing on a road only Wells folk know how to drive.") In the back seat, Bentley watched the trees sway as the white noise of wind pressured him to take a nap.
Over time, the trees became further and fewer in between; they had entered the wide geographical line between rural and urban life. Where a tree might have been, now there's a power line. Where a mom-and-pop convenience store waited on the corner, now a Road Ranger stood proud. It wasn't long before they were driving along the ridge, where the town was waking up below like a miniature set.
7:38 AM
The TV clicked on. Static buzzed on the aged screen as a hand placed a VHS into the slot beneath it. The static ceased as the TV turned black, a low fidelity distortion travelling down the screen as a title appeared:
A WORLD FOR A YOUNGER GENERATION:
A Day in the Life of the Undead
The title faded out, as a landscape of mountains in the distance faded onto the screen.
"For billions and billions of years, nature has given us beautiful and unpredictable surprises for our eyes to behold. As humble human beings, our eyes have always been drawn to the versatility of the wilderness. With its tranquility-"
An image of zebras grazing in the grass.
"Its mystery-"
A plant quickly bloomed from the earth in a rapid timelapse.
"Its civility-"
A lake hosted a litany of various members of the animal kingdom, each sipping from the water.
"And its danger."
A gazelle met its end as a panther leapt onto its rear in slow motion, sinking its claws and teeth into it.
"But now, nature offers us a new element that neither man or beast have encountered before."
In a zoomed in shot, a pack of undead roamed listlessly through the brush. The sunlight poured down onto them, as if to pretend they were just another pack of animals that belonged in the desert.
"The undead. With their slow, staggering lumber, one might assume an undead in this habitat would be one of the lesser predators in the midst of the animal kingdom. But with a scent that a lion can smell from up to nine miles away, the natural members of the desert receive a clear signal: it is time to step away."
As an undead man lumbers toward a family of lions, the animals timidly strut in the opposite direction, turning around and keeping an eye on the slow-moving corpse and studying its moves.
"This scent, while an excellent defense against predators, serves as an excellent defense for the lions as well. But the scent of the undead is not such a fortunate one for other animals in the area. Rather than producing a defensive reaction in animals such as the lion, the scent instead produces a tranquilizing effect on more docile creatures like the zebra, or the gazelle. Even the wildebeest falls into this unlucky bastion. This renders the unlucky animal with a sense of safety-a sense that will ultimately lead to a meal for the undead."
Cut to an undead woman feasting on the thigh of a zebra, which sits calmly scanning the grass, unaware of its fate.
"Perhaps what differs the undead from the rest of its animal counterparts, is the tragedy behind its placement within their habitat. Being a man-made creature, the undead provides an unnatural shake-up for the animal kingdom, which adaptation has not nearly prepared them for, and likely will not for millions of years.
"The undead that roam the Sahara began with infected natives within the area that roamed outward toward the great wilderness. However, recent years have found the Sahara, as well as other suitable habitats, as dumping grounds for undead persons from all over the globe. With the recent Undead Humanity Act being enforced by those participating countries within the United Nations, the act of simply killing the undead had taken a turn for transporting them to places like the Sahara Desert, where they might thrive in an environment more suitable for a beast."
A shot of an undead group showed them simply standing in place, swaying from side to side, lit as white creatures with the night vision lens.
The environment switched to a shot of the Chicago skyline.
"However, this does not mean the civilized world is out of the woods. The undead continue to roam as strays throughout cities all over the globe, and likely will as a part of everyday life. These undead infect poor souls throughout cities every day, which may lead to such small events as startling a coffee shop, to such large events as mini outbreaks in a city block that will unfortunately end up quickly quarantined."
The camera zoomed down an alleyway, showing a group of men in hazmat suits placing a net over a zombified child.
"The world will ultimately remain a very different one for the generations to come. With the threat of zombification now an everyday reality for children of all walks of life, technological advancements are made every day by the world's top scientists working endlessly to make the world… a safer place."
A shot of the desert appeared once again, showing a Licker stalking toward a pride of lions.
"Next, we will discuss some of the more formidable-"
The VHS paused.
"Okay," said the counselor from the front of the room. "So we've established that the threat of zombies have become controlled to a certain extent. They are, in large part, localized to large areas of wilderness in Africa, far away from our everyday life. But what was the key takeaway in that clip that's important to remember, especially for those of you who like to travel or take road trips?"
Leon, Bentley, and Ashley sat in the back of the room behind the limp turnout of people sitting in chairs. The dreaded ZA session; the Zombies Anonymous "courses" for those "who, at some point in the recent past, had a traumatizing exposure to the phenomenon of the undead." Which, at this point, could sessions to the entire world. Because of this not-so-niche premise, ZA was widely considered the new life coaching fad.
A man near the front of the room raised his hand.
"Ugh…" moaned Ashley.
"Winston," said the counselor.
"I think the key takeaway is that, while we are safe, there is still the possibility of a run-in with a zombie. Kind of like a bear."
"Exactly. Thank you, Winston."
"Thank you, Winston," Ashley mocked under her breath. "Fuck off, Winston."
"We will never have the kind of normal we had back in 1997, and that's the hard truth. Zombies are, in a messed up away, a part of nature now. And, like bears, sometimes they can show up by the dumpster behind the grocery store. It all depends on where you life, and-sorry, folks-life in Wells sometimes lends itself to a few strays."
Leon scoffed. "Strays."
Bentley sat quietly, his eyebrow furrowed with a bothered concentration. Leon and Ashley had a widely publicized incident with the infected, but Bentley had the un-famous circumstance of suffering privately. While barricaded with his family 14 years ago in Treharris, Wales at The Lord Nelson Inn, his kid brother had wandered out late at night. The next morning, Bentley learned that zombies sometimes prefer colons and kidneys over brains and faces. Despite being able to recognize him, a closed casket would have been impossible. Just like a funeral at the time.
"You think Professor Namaste ever saw a zombie," Leon whispered to Ashley.
"Shhh!" Bentley cut. Leon looked over at him accusationally, only to be reminded of Bentley's past by the teary glaze over his eyes as he focused on the lecture.
"Who here has ever had an encounter with a stray?" asked the counselor.
Everyone raised their hands.
"Ah! So no strangers to the risk, I see." The counselor took a sip from his mug, which read "WORLD'S BEST MOM" in bold lettering. "And how many of you own a firearm of any kind?"
The hands remained up. Only Bentley's went down.
"Oh," observed the counselor. "You don't own a firearm."
"Uh, no," said Bentley. "I mean, not personally. Sort of a communal firearm situation in our household. Like a bowl of candy, but with guns."
"I think it might be wise in this day and age to maybe purchase one for your own person," said the counselor.
"I dunno, the whole bowl of candy concept seems to work proper."
"And what about when you're away from home?"
"I'm never away from home, really."
"Well, you're here now."
"Well, then, I guess I'm fucked, right?!" snapped Bentley. The room went silent as he embarrassedly shuffled in his seat. After a moment of agonizing quiet, Bentley stood up from his chair and left the room. Leon and Ashley looked at one another. Should we go after him?
"Ooookay, then," said the counselor. "Let this be a lesson as to why it's important to become comfortable with carrying a firearm like you are comfortable carrying a cell phone."
Leon and Ashley stood up and left the room as the counselor eyed them.
"Please do encourage him to purchase a firearm!"
Bentley stood outside the front doors, smoking a cigarette and watching the cars travel by. Leon and Ashley stepped out.
"Sorry," said Bentley, sheepishly gesturing to the cigarette. "I cracked."
"That's alright," said Ashley.
"You doing alright, buddy?" asked Leon.
"Yeah! Yeah, yeah, I just… it got a little warm in there, you know how I get cranky." Bentley laughed timidly as he took another drag.
"Want to talk about anything?" asked Leon.
"No, like I said, just needed some air. That's all."
Leon and Ashley looked at one another, before awkwardly trying to act natural and looking out at the town beside him. Bentley blinked rapidly to hold back tears as he clutched the cigarette close to his face.
A buzzing vibrated from Leon's pocket. He took it out and looked at it.
"Shit."
"What? Who is it?" Ashley asked.
"It's Ben from West Point. Jesus."
"Jesus, well, answer it!"
"He was supposed to call at 3."
"What's that matter? You're free right now!"
Leon answered the phone.
"Hey! Ben!" Leon plugged his other ear and paused. He looked up at Ashley and Bentley before walking away from them. "Yeah, no, now's a great time."
As Leon walked down the sidewalk, Ashley turned to Bentley.
"Want to drink?" she asked.
Bentley looked at her, and then across the street. There she was: the St. Augustine Shinehouse, and the chorus of angels that plays in one's head whenever one lays eyes upon it. He looked back at Ashley and nodded.
"Let's do it." Ashley took Bentley's arm and crossed the street with him.
"Why do we even go to those fucking things?" asked Bentley, waving his pint around. He and Ashley sat right at the bar, the depressingly sparse bar folk nothing but silhouettes against the gray light pouring in. "They're fucking pointless. All they do is make you feel scared and hopeless and… you know, I was doing just fine before zoMbiEs anOnyMous decided the world needed a little hand-holding."
"I don't know, they can work. Sometimes. If you're in a good mood."
"Well, if I'm in a good mood, the last thing I want to do is step into a fucking ZA meet again. Christ. I've seen zombie porn that made me feel better."
"Jesus! You've watched zombie porn?"
"No, I haven't watched zombie porn! It was…" Bentley sighed. "It was a turn of phrase."
"Bentley. I think you need to open up a little bit."
"I'm perfectly open. I'm a gaping hole, that's how open I am."
"That's how open?"
"That's how open, Ashley." Bentley took a sip of beer. "I'm open with you. I'm open with Leon. I don't need to be open with a bunch of twits in that shit soup of a room."
"Well, maybe you need more than us. Maybe you need other perspectives, other personalities to listen-"
"No, no, no, don't therapize me," said Bentley.
"I did very well in psychology."
"Yeah, all three of them throughout your entire time at uni," said Bentley.
"My entyuh toime at uni!" said Ashley in an exaggerated British accent.
"Oh, very nice. Very grown up of you."
"I had sooch a fantahshtic toime at uni! Oooooh!" Bentley cracked a smile. "Ope! There he is! There he is!"
"Oh, fuck off!" he said, holding back a laugh.
The bell on the door jingled as Leon entered. He listlessly stumbled over to the bar beside Ashley.
"Hey," said Ashley with a look of concern. "How'd it, uh… how'd it go?"
Leon pursed his lips and shook his head as he spaced out, his eyes trained on the bar. "Jerry. Blue Moon, please."
"You got it, Leon."
Leon burned holes into the bar with his eyes, sitting perfectly still. As his drink arrived in front of him, Ashley and Bentley silently took a sip of their own. Leon took his sip.
"Oh, shit!" a voice blasted from the kitchen. "There's a stray in the back! By the dumpster!"
"A stray?!" shouted Jerry, rushing out from behind the bar toward the kitchen.
Everyone in the bar rushed out of their seats to see the stray out by the dumpster. Leon, Ashley, and Bentley stayed, quietly sipping their drinks.
Hey, folks. Hope you're enjoying the fic so far. Just wanted to say a quick thank you for reading this far. It's good to be back on the site and writing with you guys again-it's only been a cool 11 years since I wrote here in earnest. But I've enjoyed reading your fics from the shadows, and I'm excited to be a part of the community again.
Stay safe, stay reading, and stay writing.
-Shaderem X
