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Brains for the Zombie Soul (a parody)

Page 4

by Michelle Hartz


  They nodded in understanding. “Before being stationed at the church, Alex was being trained in a special top secret program for necromancers.” They gasped. “The program was abandoned, and he was assigned to my battalion.”

  “Like I was saying,” I continued, “he knew that he was dying when they brought him into the medic tent. Before I could treat his wounds, we were hit by a round of gunfire. I was hit in the face, as you can see, but also in the chest. I lay next to him on the ground, dying with him.”

  “Even though I knew that my injuries were fatal, I did my best to save him. He stopped me and said, ‘I’m not going to make it, you know that. And unless we do something, neither are you.’”

  I had to take a gulp of coffee before I could continue. “’Do me a favor,’ he said, ‘and I can give you another chance at life.’ I said that yes, of course, I would do anything he asked. ‘Tell my wife and son that I love them. Tell them what happened here. Tell them to have hope and faith and acceptance.’ I agreed, and then everything went dark.”

  The family stared at me in silence. “When I woke up, the world seemed very different. I came to the realization that although I was technically dead, I could still function. I was sent back on the next flight back to the States. I came here immediately.”

  At this point, I was crying. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t save Alec. Here, he wanted you to have these.” I handed his widow his wedding ring and a picture of the three of them, presumably taken right before he left.

  Mrs. Deeter hugged me, and we stood in the middle of the kitchen, crying together in each other’s arms. We both kept saying, “I’m so sorry,” to each other.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I can’t believe that I could be scared of someone who was brought into being by my husband. How wrong I was to be afraid of you. I’m so sorry.”

  I told her that I forgave her. “You reacted much as I would have before this whole thing started. It’s okay.”

  “Where’s Isaac?” asked Alec’s father while holding his wife. She was sobbing into his shoulder. “He should come meet a true war hero.”

  Mrs. Deeter went back down the hall. It was a while before she came back since she had to explain the whole thing to her son first.

  She brought the boy into the room, and he gave me a hug. Not a polite hug, like he was being told to do it, but a big sincere hug. “My mommy told me that my daddy made you one of the good guys.”

  I started crying harder than I ever had before. “That’s right, Isaac,” I said. “We’re good guys.”

  (back to TOC)

  ****

  Carrying Groceries

  A man who lived in a large apartment complex had just gotten home from work and parked in one of the parking spots out front. On this particular property, a large parking lot sat in front of the buildings, and residents had to walk to their apartments. The people who lived in the back of the property had a considerable walk to their doors, especially if they lived on the 5th floor.

  Such was the case with this businessman. Not only did he live on the top floor of his building, but his building was as far away from the parking lot as possible. He hated the walk from his car to his door, especially in this cold weather. To make things even worse, the elevator was out in his building.

  As he got out of his car, the neighbor that lived right below him, a zombie, was unloading groceries from his own car. The zombie said, “I’ve got a lot of groceries here. Since we’re going the same way, would you take a bag or two for me?”

  The businessman said, “On that far of a walk? No thanks.” He then walked to his building, leaving the zombie behind.

  He stepped inside, winded from the walk up the stairs, took off his coat and shoes, and collapsed into a chair. And then his cell phone started to beep because the battery was running low. And the charger was in his car.

  With a sigh, he got back up, put his coat and shoes back on, and trekked back out to his car, passing his neighbor struggling with the groceries along the way. When he returned to the building, the zombie was right in front of him in the stairwell. The businessman huffed and sighed, wishing the zombie would hurry up.

  When the zombie took the next step up, halfway up the first flight of stairs, the load he was carrying became too much for him. The bags of groceries were so heavy that they ripped his arms off. The bags upended when they hit the steps, tumbling down and losing contents as they fell. The stairway was now covered with cans and oranges and all other manner of groceries.

  In all the mess, the businessman couldn’t get by. He had to help the zombie so he could get to his own apartment. Reluctantly, he started picking up all the groceries and put them back in the bags. He put the zombie’s arms under one of his own, picked up the bags (which were very heavy), and started up the stairs.

  He didn’t know how the zombie had gotten so far with the bags himself. He had to stop at least once per flight to set everything down and rest for a minute. After what seemed like forever, he finally got to the fourth floor and the zombie’s door. He had to pull the key out of his neighbor’s pocket to get the door open and the groceries inside.

  He put the zombie’s arms in a bag and put the bag around his neck so he could take them to get sewn back on. When the zombie left to get help, the businessman finally got back to his own apartment and relaxed.

  The realization humbled him: if he had only helped the zombie with half of the load when he had asked, the businessman would’ve been in his nice warm chair, and nowhere near as exhausted, a long time ago.

  (back to TOC)

  ****

  Reservation in the Desert

  Right after college, I volunteered at a zombie reservation in the Arizona desert. So many zombies lined up for our clinic every day, I didn’t know how we could help them all. There were zombie mothers missing arms and therefore unable to care for their babies. There were zombie children infested with bugs and parasites. Some of them literally had bugs crawling under their skin.

  We did what we could to help them, one at a time. We removed larvae that had infested itself in their skin. We gave them pesticides that wouldn’t hurt them, but that would kill off the infestations in their bodies. We gave them prostheses and rehabilitation.

  One day when we drove into town for supplies, we were stopped on our way back by figures dressed in all black and wearing black ski masks. From their smell, I assumed they were zombies. If only we could help them! They ordered us to take another side road, and promised death if we turned around.

  The road led us to an illegal zombie camp. There was a demonstration going on, which had attracted a large crowd. We got out of the truck to observe and listen in.

  The leader spoke of zombie rights and zombie superiority. He showed how the zombies in their camp needed help that they couldn’t get. While he spoke, I looked around at the zombies standing with us. I wasn’t scared; I could see they needed help.

  Being of healthy complexion and in possession of all of our extremities, we stood out among the crowd. The speaker came over to us and demanded to know who we were.

  “We’re aid workers,” I explained. “We have a clinic a mile down the road.”

  “I have many men in these hills,” he gestured around him, “that could use your help.”

  I thought for a minute. “I would love to help them,” I said, “but I fear that our government won’t let me. If I go to them in the hills, the authorities will shut our clinic down.”

  “But,” I added, “EVERYONE is welcome at our clinic, no questions asked.”

  The leader stepped aside a moment and exchanged words with several other men. Then he came back to us and asked, “Where is your clinic?”

  “It’s about a mile that way.” I pointed down the road.

  “You should be attending to it soon. Thank you for all your hard work. We appreciate it.” And they let us go on our way.

  (back to TOC)

  ****

  Prophettown

  I lived in a sma
ll town in Indiana during the Zombie Hunts. We were a close knit town. The people who had been turned into zombies had been prominent members of the community, and many of them still were. We didn’t think of them as zombies, we thought of them as neighbors.

  There was one family that had all been turned into zombies. They hadn’t been very well off in life, and business was now down in death. The father was a fine shoemaker, but it didn’t always get them by. The mother started taking in tailoring jobs to help supplement their income.

  They had seven kids, which included two sets of twins. The oldest two children were the first set of twins, and they often took odd jobs around town to help their family out. The three middle kids helped their mom with the babies, the second set of twins.

  With the bonds of family, they survived and were able to make a living. The people in the town helped when they could.

  One day the zombie hunters came to town. They raided houses of suspected zombies, including the shoemaker’s house. A neighbor tipped the family off before the mob got there, and the oldest twins, both boys, got two of their younger sisters out. The four of them escaped through the roof and jumped from rooftop to rooftop to hide and escape.

  The father tried to escape the same way, but he twisted his ankle on the first jump, and instead ran down to the street. He was hit by a slowly passing truck, and the townsfolk rushed him to the hospital.

  The zombie hunter insisted that since he was a zombie, he couldn’t be injured, and the hospital couldn’t help. But the doctors won out, insisting that he was not well enough to travel but he was rehabilitating.

  Meanwhile, the hunters were able to capture the three youngest girls and their mother. They were put on a train headed to one of the camps. The locals sabotaged the train, making it derail just outside of town. In the commotion, the rest of the family was able to escape.

  The town proudly stood their ground, protecting their zombie residents. They still stand by all the zombies in their town to this day.

  (back to TOC)

  ****

  The Neighbors

  One time, a zombie was walking in front of his neighbor’s house and he accidentally dropped an important piece of paper. He didn’t realize it as he was hurrying on his way.

  His neighbor was watching out the window at the time. He saw the zombie drop the paper, which floated onto his lawn. Thinking, “That dirty zombie, getting litter all over my yard,” he planned his revenge.

  That night, he went over to the zombie’s house with his wastebasket and dumped the contents all over the zombie’s driveway.

  When the zombie woke up in the morning, he found the trash all over his property. Most of it was his neighbor’s junk mail, but he also found the important paper that he had dropped. It was ripped to pieces. He thought the neighbor had deliberately stolen the paper from him and then destroyed it.

  The zombie called a butcher friend of his and said he would take all the meat scraps off of his hands. He had them delivered by a dump truck into the neighbor’s driveway.

  The neighbor responded by gathering paper sacks of dog poop from all the houses in the area that had dogs. He lined the zombie’s yard with them and set them all on fire.

  Then the zombie got revenge by releasing hundreds of cockroaches, termites, and carpenter ants into his neighbor’s house.

  Then the neighbor called a sorcerer and had a tornado and rainstorm planted over the zombie’s house.

  Soon, both of their houses were damaged so much, they could no longer live in them. They both had to stay in a local shelter while they saved up the money to fix their houses.

  At the shelter, the zombie and the man were forced to stay in a room together. When they found out they couldn’t continue to seek revenge on each other, they were forced to actually talk together.

  They found they were very similar, and soon became great friends. By working together, they were able to fix both houses in a very short period of time so they had somewhere to live again.

  They continued to help each other out and became lifelong friends.

  (back to TOC)

  ****

  Movie Star

  Johann was a rich little boy with a good life. His dad was a doctor, and his mom stayed at home to be with him, so he always had everything he wanted.

  On Saturday, he went to the movies like he normally did. He showed up right before the movie was about to start. As he got there, a poor zombie boy had just bought a ticket. “Thank you,” said the zombie boy to the man in the ticket booth. “I’ve been wanting to see this movie for a long time, and I’ve been saving for weeks for this ticket.”

  When Johann got to the ticket booth, he was told that the movie was sold out. So he cornered the zombie boy and demanded his ticket. “You’re dead,” he said. “You don’t need to see movies any more. Give me your ticket and go back to the grave you came from.”

  This made the zombie boy cry, but still he refused to give up his ticket. A well-dressed man in line pulled Johann aside and said, “Here you go boy, I have an extra ticket.”

  “These zombies,” Johann said, “take everything from us living people who deserve it. I’m glad you’re not one of those zombie lovers.”

  He got a big tub of popcorn and a soda, and went to the theater to take his seat. But when he sat down, he felt a pull in his stomach, and he was sucked up into the screen.

  The air was cold and it was snowing. Johann discovered that he wasn’t wearing anything more than a torn t-shirt and pants that were missing a leg. He wrapped his arms around himself, but his own touch was cold. No matter what he did, he couldn’t warm himself up.

  He walked to a nearby house and knocked on the door. “Please, can I come in and warm up?” he asked the lady that answered.

  She screamed, “Ah, zombie!” and chased him away with a rolling pin.

  Although he was cold and tired, somehow he found the energy to walk to the nearest town. Everyone was going to a well-lit tavern. He followed them in, went to the bar, and asked, “Please, can you spare a cup of hot tea?”

  The bartender answered, “We don’t serve zombies here. Get out!”

  At this point, he was cold, tired, and hungry. He wandered down an alley and looked through the dumpsters for something to eat. The only thing he could find was a dead rat. He didn’t have any way to make a fire to cook it over, but he was so hungry he ate it raw. It was disgusting.

  Under some boxes he found in the dumpster, he sat down in a corner and rested his head against the brick wall, attempting to sleep. Heels clicked as a man walked down the alley, and Johann tried to hide under his boxes for fear of getting attacked.

  But the man came up to him and said, “You poor boy. Come with me.” The man lead him to a big house merely blocks away. He gave him hot cocoa and a freshly cooked meal of turkey and potatoes. Johann sat by the fire as he ate. When his stomach was full, he fell asleep in the big comfy chair.

  When he woke up, he was back in the theater. He realized that the man in his dream was the same as the man who gave him the ticket. The movie was almost over, but his tub of popcorn was nearly full. He looked around the dark theater and found the zombie sitting a few rows over. Without disturbing the other people watching the movie, he made his way over to the zombie and said, “Here, you can have this,” and handed him the popcorn and soda.

  “Thank you,” the zombie whispered. Johann sat next to the zombie for the rest of the movie, and enjoyed spending time with him.

  As they left, he said, “I’m sorry for making fun of you earlier. Would you like to come over for supper?”

  “I’d like that very much,” replied the zombie, and they became the best of friends.

  (back to TOC)

  ****

  Zombies and Geeks

  In my sophomore year of high school we moved to a new town due to my dad’s job. My old high school was a big school, and even when I felt like an outcast, I could still just blend into the crowd.

  This new school was s
mall, with only one tenth of the students that my old high school had. Everyone knew each other already, and most had gone to school together their entire lives. It was just as bad, if not worse, than any other time I had been the new kid.

  Although it was large, there weren’t a whole lot of undead kids in my old school. But this new school was at least half zombies.

  In my Spanish class, there was one zombie girl that sat in the back of the class with her clique of friends. They wore tons of makeup to try to mask their pale complexions. One girl was even wearing a wig. Their clothes were designer, which I found strange for zombies.

  I took a seat in front of these girls and said, “Hello,” but they ignored me. They talked constantly during class, and when I handed a paper back to the girl behind me, she rudely snatched it out of my hands.

  My next class was Biology, and I took a seat in the back corner of the classroom. The girl from Spanish class walked in right before the bell and sat down at the desk next to me. Apparently her friends didn’t have this class with her. I held out my hand and said, “Hi, I’m Kelsey. I think we have Spanish together.”

  She didn’t shake my hand. Instead, she gave me a disdainful, “Um, hi,” and looked straight ahead, ignoring me for the rest of class. When the teacher called roll, I found out that her name was Mandy. Later in the hall, I said, “Hi Mandy,” but she walked on like she didn’t hear me.

 

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