NOT DEAD YET

Field guide to the apocalypse
Entry: 01

Everyday, when I wake up, the first thing I do is rummage around in the bedside drawer for a bobby pin and use it to keep my bangs back from my eyes. It's not very manly, I know that but I don't really have the option to use hair gel. It seems that the undead find it remarkably appetizing.

I think that, if I had a badass intro for my badass TV show, it would be playing right now. Unfortunately, I don't have a badass TV show but I totally think I should. Anyways, after my lovely hairdo, I retrieve that handgun from under my pillow (you can't do anything in this world without a gun in your hand). Is it a good idea to store a fully loaded gun beneath your unconscious head? No. To be honest, I'll never have the courage to pull the trigger against myself but I figure, if it happens to go off in the middle of the night, it's all for the best.

I don't look out the window anymore, I blocked it up with newspaper and planks of cardboard. It may not be the best survival technique but I didn't want to see the undead fragments of what used to be people I once knew. I'd rather just kill 'em and get it over with.

As you can well assume, it's been a while since humans dominated the Earth. How it started? There's a lot of rumors but the only one you need to believe is that this is the effect of the greatest war for oil to ever take place. To tell you it short is like to summarize the bible but I'll do my best anyways. So, pretty much, some of the big nations started dueling it out because one was accused of laying pipelines in the territory of another. Sure enough, some pipelines were dug up, some papers were filed, angry letters were sent and not long after, the first gun shot was fired. Even to this day, I don't know the whole pipage situation. Something was circulating about the accused nation being framed or the pipes not existing at all but if you believe everything you're told, you'll be really stupid.

So next came war followed by the invention of "total gas", a gas that could kill thousands quiet and painlessly. After that, everyone used total gas because it was seen as the humane way to kill off entire towns. The irony, I know. It did its job well at first, killing everything in its path, and then came the masters of evolution themselves…the ants. Those crazy bastards just fixed themselves right up and started having babies that could breathe total gas like it were oxygen. These new mega ants drank the blood from the dead soldiers, spreading their resistance gene right into the blood stream of the corpse. That was the first time since Jesus that men awoke from the very depths of hell and today, they walk amongst us.

I say us but as far as I know, it's only me. I joined the F.A.I (Forces Against the Immune) as soon as I could. I was put on a base with a few other guys, partnered with some blonde, American idiot. I was with him when he was attacked, that "Immune" bit right down on his ankle. That poor son-of-a-bitch went out of it, he didn't even have the mind to ask me to kill him. I let him live for a little while, making sure he really was gone before I gave him a good ol' straight-in-the-forehead funeral.

Nobody on the base liked me before and they REALLY didn't like me when I killed everyone's favorite pal. I was kicked out. They dropped me on my ass, not caring if I got munched on by an immune. That'd just give them a good reason to shoot me.

I ran off, trying to find a good place to die when I stumbled upon this little shack and thought, hey, this might be a good place to live. Of course, that was before I knew living was a-helluva-lot worse.

What are the zombies like? That's a good question. Well, I've never seen one bathe or give any interest to hygiene so yes, they rot. What's worse is that they rot mostly at their open air orifices, which are located on the face. Eye lids are gone on most of them but they don't seem to be hindered hunters. What's true about all of them is that their eyes are noticeable from miles away. Their eyes are filled with a muted, ashy, dead shade of whatever color they once were. In the mouths of the immune, many housed parasites, bleeding scabby gums and chipped yellow teeth, designed to eat whatever they pleased. I've heard rumors of zombies raping women and kidnapping children but that's all a load of hullabaloo. Those things have never cared for humans as anything but food.

I don't know what happens when the immunes start their feast. Honestly, I've never stuck around long enough to find out. When it comes down to it, it's tough love, meaning that if you love anything other than your own survival, things are going to get real tough real soon. If you live this long and for some reason have a desire to stay alive, isolate yourself. That's the best you can do.

It's fantastic. Best decision I ever made. I've named this land "Lovino Land" and I am head of the Lovinic Church. We believe that God created the pizza roll and then a race known as the humans that would eventually destroy themselves. I'm the only friend I'll ever need. I don't want to talk to anyone else because my opinions are the best ones. I don't miss anyone, I don't even mind that I may very well be the last of my whole race.

I'm not lonely, I'm not afraid, I'm not lying.

I try to leave the shack as little as possible. Today though, I was in dire need of clean water and in less dire need of shampoo. I ripped a piece of magazine off the stack and used a Crayola marker to jot down those two things. The note went right into the side of my boot so that I could read it if I forgot what I was doing. I was set on keeping my wits about me if I were going to remain alive so I continued my routine of changing the calendar and picking things up in my house in alphabetical order. I dressed myself and left but not before slinging some extra ammo on my waist.

As I walked, I noticed how crusty my socks had gotten. I really outta' wash them. I also needed to find some new boots but there wasn't a clothing store for another ten miles. I rarely took trips that far. It was an annual thing for me, a special weeklong trip that tested every aspect of my survival skills. I have a special route that goes deep into the woods that can only be traveled during day light. Lush forestry makes for sneaky escapes. Immunes may be quick but they ain't smart. They like to run in straight lines, they get all confused when you're weaving through trees and hopping over logs. Another helpful hint? Bring things to break. I never leave without a handful of ceramic figurines. All you have to do is chuck em' across the stream and you're home free, they chase the noise and they never know what happened.

Life saver #1: Open land is a dead man's land.

So I started out. The store wasn't more than a mile and a half away. It was actually a few stores, a small outdoor shopping complex. They were some of the few places that weren't hit real hard when the raiding craze exploded. That's probably because they're in the middle of nowhere, even I have no idea where I am. I assume I'm still in America but other than that, I've got nothing. I heard that the rebels in India were doing some major damage on the zombies but that's all I heard about them so I assume that nothing else became of them.

The trip had been easy so far. I walked heel to toe, breathed softly and kept my legs apart. I was close to silent. I checked around in every direction and made sure that one hand was always waiting beside my gun holster.

I got to the store and successfully scoped the first shop. If you know how to do anything, let it be scoping properly. Also, avoid assumptions. They're bad. They're evil and dirty and wrong, avoid them like a hungry zombie.

Once inside, I barricaded the entrance with a few fully loaded cardboard boxes. I took a bottle of shampoo and two jugs of purified water. With skillful rationing, the water would last a week and the shampoo would go a month or even longer. Rationing was my biggest problem. The supplies wouldn't last forever. I'd only been on my own for two years which makes me a survival legend. In that time, I have almost stripped the store of its valuable resources. I've been thinking about investing in a car and I've found a nice one abandoned in a parking lot not far from the shack but it needs gas and I have yet to find a gas station.

Life saver #2: Don't over estimate security.

As I was thinking all this to myself, a tired moan rung out from the door. "Hhe-e-looo?" The voice called in its hell-stricken cruelty. Immunes remember things… I'm not sure what kind of things but they seem to remember little bits of language. It's terrifying.

It was a pack of them. Most times they're loners but when they go in for a hunt, they team up. The biggest of them looked like he once had long hair but his head was now plagued with bald spots. His left ear was torn from his head and the gangrene was mauling that entire side of his face. His eyes remained but just barely. Dirt and mud clogged up into the crevices of his eyes which made me question if sight was indeed possible. Evidently, it was. The box that I was using to hold out intruders was flung across the room, annihilating my right shoulder and causing my gun to skit to the floor.

I did not hesitate to shoot that crazy bastard. The gun was in my left hand and aimed in a fraction of a second. BAM! One explosion of gunpowder and a tremendous ache in my arm. BAM!BAM! Those ones missed due to the lack of control in my right arm and the inaccuracy in my left. On the upside, one bullet slung into the stomach of a zombie standing behind my target and the second drove through the arm of another. I kept firing in panic and each time my arm shot violent reminders to my brain, telling me not to do it again but I did.

Life saver #3: When in doubt, shoot! Shoot! Shoot! As long as you're not shooting yourself , you're doing it right.

With my injured limb, I scrambled around, grabbing what I could and chucking it at the offender. If only magazines had the magical capability to burn through zombie skin. Flesh torn bodies stumbled forward on their fishy white legs, undeterred by the bullets lodged in their feet and abdomens. These guys were absolute bulldozers, run by hunger. Filthy monsters. I was now holding an unloaded gun in my left hand and reaching across my body with the other in attempt to free my cartridge of ammo. The bull neared, closing in on me. At this point, I ran out of life savers. There was no forest behind me, there was no security to be overestimated and my right hand couldn't do more than fiddle fingers over the latch that held my last case of lead soldiers. Maybe it was the end. I figured, if I'm out of ways to save myself then I'm dead. It doesn't take a genius to figure that out. I didn't want to become a mindless, person-eating, savage but…what's a guy to do?

I closed my eyes. I didn't want my last sight to be Smelly Breath Mc. Fart-Face here. I wasn't nearly as upset as any sane person would be but maybe because I had been expecting it and even wanting it. Silently, I prayed that they'd just snap my neck and bury me deep, deep, deep in the woods but no zombie could ever care that much about a human. In the best scenario, they would eat all of me or at least enough to ensure that I would only come back as zombie shit. I took deep breaths, relaxing as I anticipated my end.

There was loud clinking and banging. I didn't open my eyes. The zombies cried out in what seemed to be pain or agony. I didn't open my eyes. The sound of bodies thumping against the floor emanated around the room. I didn't open my eyes. Finally, all the sound was gone and I had the hunch I was still alive. Wait, that wasn't right? I gave it a few seconds but nothing attacked me. I gave it a few more seconds and there was no harm done. So finally… I opened my eyes.

I was on the floor, I must have fallen down at some point and not noticed. Around me were four bodies. The fat giant had fallen in the center of the room. A woman corpse was down at the entrance and another was slumped against the far wall. Those were all dead for the last time and becoming ash as I watched them. Laying directly in front of me though was a crumpled form that wasn't gone.

It was a boy…a boy my age. He wore a pasty green uniform from the Old War and padded his head with thick coffee-colored curls. More important than all of this? He was an immune. Blank stare, unwashed skin, ripped and torn clothes… they all look the same. I dropped my gun and undid the ammo, shoving a cartridge into my firearm quickly and pointing it straight at his forehead. When I shut one eye and focused the other on the target… I noticed that this one didn't look the same as the others.

Those eyes weren't blank like I had originally though, they were focused on me and they weren't the same shade of deluded cataracts as the others. They were green! They were bright, radiant, amazing green… was he…alive? I studied him over again. Definitely zombie but…those eyes!

"Hi…" He mumbled in his long-time-dead voice and looked up at me, a faint smile playing on his lips.

NO FLIPP'N WAY.

Zombies don't have human eyes. They don't smile, they don't see a human without attacking and they DON'T say "hi". Never have I ever, ever, ever seen an immune behave this way. If I were in my right mind, I'd give it a good ol' hole in the forehead but when I looked into hi- its eyes I felt a bit of a twinge in my gut. It was human… not really but just slightly. I have no idea how that's possible but it is. If there were the slightest chance that it were still in some way alive, could I really kill it? It's the only other slightly human thing that I knew to exist… could I really kill it?

I found myself studying it so curiously that it repeated its call of "Hi?" to make sure I still had some good sense in my brain. I looked around the room again. Three dead zombies, one exhausted one. Did it…fight the others? Was that possible? I'd never seen an immune attack another of its kind, they were smart enough to know the difference. Maybe this one was just really stupid. Maybe it thought that I was a-

"Huu-mn?" It asked. Nope, it knew. Then why!? What the hell was going on? Was it a zombie? A human? Both? What? "Hiiiiiii huuuuuumn~" Its smile grew. It's arm reached out weakly to touch me but I quickly smacked it away. Then fear set in. I jumped up to my feet and make a B-line for a metal magazine display rack. I don't know why it's called a B-line, it was more like an I-line but I couldn't bother myself about that. What I was currently focused on discovering was whether or not I was alive. The pain in my arm and air in my lungs would suggest that I was but the human-zombie hybrid would beg to differ.

I watched it closely as it remained slumped on the floor. It hadn't moved but its wondering eyes followed me. Lovino, it's a zombie, I told myself, zombies are animals, not humans. They don't see people as anything other than food. They kill, they ravage and they don't ever come back to life. Still, this one wasn't doing anything except laying on its side like an old dog and watching me. When it got tired of looking at me, it sighed and closed its eyes. I grabbed the magazine at my hip and tossed it at the immune who squinted distastefully when it hit his shoulder. "Ooowww huuumn." He complained, retreating into a more protected position as if it were trying to go to sleep.

I spoke. "You!" I called from behind the protection of the magazine rack. He didn't answer. "Hey! You!" His shoulders shifted to show me that he was ignoring me. "What are you?" I asked, astonished that it could comprehend me. It didn't respond. Was it asleep? I waited a few minutes and the thing didn't move. Maybe it was dead.

I moved out from the behind my protective barrier and slowly approached the immune. It didn't wake. Big, heavy breaths inflated its chest every once in a while. When it coughed, I practically had a heart attack. Gun tight in hand, I finally made my way up to him. This totally violated life saver #2: Don't overestimate security. I had no reason to believe that he wouldn't suddenly jump up and rip my face off and yet, I continued to inch closer until I was face-to-face with the beast.

It didn't look like a beast. Its unconscious face was rather human. He didn't show too much decay other than chapping lips and inch-long scars. I decided that he must be newly dead. Maybe they got him right before they went for me which would explain the human like behavior but not the eyes. When Alfred, my partner, was bitten, the first thing to happen was the clouding over of his eyes. The uniform gave me the idea that he had been dead for quite some time but in that case, that would mean that he bathed which zombies don't do.

If he can talk, he can answer questions. I set to work on binding his wrists and ankles then I duct-taped over his mouth and finger nails. This way, if he went wild, he wouldn't be able to harm me. I don't suggest taking hostages. The last thing you want is to drag a corpse around with you but in this case, I needed answers. Since I wouldn't have the hands I needed to carry my supplies, I tied them to his ankles and began to drag him away by his arms. The bum just let me do it too, he didn't open an eye.

When he woke up, he found us in the middle of the woods. I was watching him maliciously from my bed under a heap of fallen leaves and he was tied snuggly against a tree, duct-tape concealing any cries for help that could lead others to find me. Naturally, he was set in a state of panic. It wasn't like he was trying to attack me, he was afraid that I would attack him. For a split second, I got a wince of guilt but it died quickly. He was the monster. I didn't owe him anything except a quick death out of generosity.

"You." I interrupted sternly. His scared eyes looked at me. the wince came back but this time for longer because of those god damn eyes. They were so human… I hadn't seen human eyes in years. I waited till he quit whimpering like a dog to remove the tape. My hands trembled terribly. I feared that he might yell or bite me but neither occurred. He was afraid.

"You can talk, can't you?" I asked, softening my voice just the tiniest bit. I should have just shot him, I shouldn't be negotiating with the enemy but here I was acting like he wasn't the kind of animal that I had watched rip the flesh of old friends.

He nodded solemnly. "Owww…huumn." He whined, trying to move his arms.

"Stop, don't move." I warned, pointing my revolver square at his nose. Cold sweat beaded on my neck and my lungs grew heavy. This thing was dangerous. His eyes widened then his head slumped dead and he refused to look at me as if he were just waiting to die now. That's when the guilt hit me with its full force. Human or not, this thing saved my life when I was at my lowest and I repaid him by throwing things at him, tying him up and pointing a gun at his face. I tried telling myself that it was just an animal, driven by hunger. For the first time, that didn't change my mind. It still felt wrong.

I sighed and lowered the gun (I didn't drop it, I'm not an idiot). "Look up." I ordered. He refused to listen to me. "Common, look up. I won't shoot you." I told him. His bright, green eyes flickered up for a moment before dropping back down. He was upset with me. Stupid bastard. What'd he want? An apology? No way. I will never apologize to an immune. If anything, they should line up to apologize to me.

The zombie again wriggled against his constraints and the whining commenced. "Knock it off!" I scolded, trying to hush him. The last thing I need is an angry pack of zombies. "Cut it out! You're going to get me killed!" That shut him up. He looked around curiously, making sure no one was around. I did the same. When the coast was proven clear I asked, "You can speak, can't you? English?" He ignored me, telling me again that he didn't like be tied up with a prolonged "Owww".

"Oh, hush! You're fine. Just quit fighting it and I'll let you out later." Making promises like that is not a good idea. I planned to send him off with a bullet in his brain as an act of mercy on the poor creature.

"No oww?" He asked, looking dead straight into my eyes as to know if I were lying. I agreed with a sigh. The stupid idiot smiled his big, goofy smile at me. I'd never seen such a happy corpse.

"You speak?" I asked again. He obviously understood me when I spoke. He nodded. "What are you?" Was my first question. He looked around, much more interested in everything else. I repeated my question more sternly. "What are you?"

"Nm?" He asked carelessly.

"What?"

"Nem?"

"Nem?"

"Humn nm."

Then it hit me. "Name!"

He gestured his head toward me. "Humn nm?"

"That's classified." I growled, crossing my arms and sitting tall like a tough guy.

"Tn, nn, ae, sv, sis, fv, fr,ree, oo, un." He guessed. Why did he think my name would be a count down from ten? Is anyone's name Ten, nine eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one? I seriously doubt it.

"No." I said, not amused.

"Humn?" He tried again.

"No." I hated to think that someday, I'd be one of these. Stupid, clumsy, mindless. "Just call me…" I searched around for a moment. "Woods. Can you remember that?" I had a feeling he wasn't going to give up this whole game until I gave him some sort of calling card.

"Wh…w-w….uuuhds." He said, his eyes kindly studying me over. "Humn… Whuuds…" When he felt confident in his memory, he looked to me and tilted his head with an honest smile. He wasn't ugly. I know that that's a weird thing to notice but whenever I see immunes, they've become a whole other human. Their skin becomes a frosty grey. Blood, dirt and disease are the only things that dress their skin. This immune was different. His skin was pale but still held some pigment as well as the faint veins climbing up his neck. His eyes were kind but also so excited, like he didn't know that he was dead. He was so in tune with his emotions that he actually looked happy. "Humn Whuuds nnnnd….oneee." He introduced himself.

"Onee?" I asked, trying to figure out what kind of name Onee could be. I couldn't come up with anything off the top of my head so I settled for, "One. I'll call you one."He seemed disappointed but he nodded. "One, are you alive?"

"Alv?...No…nd yssss." He said, considering the question.

"You're one or another. Are you a zombie or a human?"

"Onee…" He insisted.

"Yes. What is One?"

"Onee…meee." He ignored the question and instead gave his attention to my wrapped shoulder. "Whuuds oww?"

"Me?" I looked where he was looking. "Oh, no. I'm fine."

"Whuuds alv?"

"Yeah, I'll survive. Now look, you've gotta answer my questions. Do you know where humans are? Are there more?" He shook his head but he didn't seem so sure. His eyes told me that he was hiding something." This is important." I stressed. "Have you seen any people like me who weren't dead? More alive?" He thought about it and shook his head again. That son of a bitch was hiding something. "Don't lie to me, One." I growled.

He shook his head innocently. "No! No, Onee fur-ghetts." He stuttered out. That was the truth, I could tell.

"Well…" My eyes fell into my lap. "I guess there wasn't any hope anyways, was there? Ya' get me, One?" I smiled as faintly as I could at him, of course he didn't.

"Ysss." He answered. For a split second, I felt like I was having a conversation with another human. Then the feeling died and my heart sank back to its cold stage of Limbo.

"How long have you been dead?" I found a twig and began digging little canals in the dirt.

"Fur-ghetts." He said simply.

"You like being a zombie?" He didn't answer. "Hey, whatever, it doesn't matter I guess. We'll all be immune someday."

"Wnt…alv."

"What?"

"Wh…www-ahnt…aliiif. Wahnt alife."

"Want alive?" The combination of his sad face and tortured eyes made me finally give in. I flicked open the knife in my pocket and for a moment, One became afraid but settled down when he saw that I was cutting the rope away. "Don't you dare try to eat me." I threatened but the boy only smiled.

"Whuuds oh-ke." He promised.

I managed to free him but then went right back into retreat, the gun held tight in my hands. "Whuuds oh-ke." He insisted. "Whuuds alv."

"Yeah? Well I guess I'll learn my lesson when I wake up without my intestines. You bastard, this is all your fault with your god damn sappy eyes." I fell back into the pile of leaves and tossed some more on myself to make sure I was sufficiently hidden. "Don't think I can't watch you from here.

"Whuuds oh-ke. Onee awke, Onee watch." His raspy voice murmered. He looked round to show me how visual he could be.

"You're not going to get hungry are you? Y'know, like a midnight craving?" I asked skeptically.

He smiled and shook his head. "Whuuds oh-ke." He repeated. Sure I am… sure I am. So, feeling brave, I let my eyelids shut and soon traveled into the realm of sleep. I didn't know if I was ever going to wake up or if I was going to wake up as a flesh-eating killer but I was starting to feel like One was actually something else. It would be now that I would figure out if I could trust him or not.

(Thank you for reading! This will be continued but not until after Christmas. I'll still be writing but I won't be publishing so you'll have to wait but you'll be rewarded by a burst of story. Also, if you happen to notice spelling and/or grammar mistakes, please let me know.)