My Zombie My (I Zombie)

by Jack Wallen

  “That was the walls…shaking.” My answer made no sense. I mean, yes, the walls were shaking, but how exactly do granite and marble walls of a century old building shake? Without some form of earthquake, there was no way unless –

  A glance out a window confirmed the fear that had so fully gripped my heart it seemed to stop beating. The building we occupied was now surrounded by zombies attempting to gain entry. But why? Had they heard the screams of Susan and the Berserker? Did those screams drive the undead into a frenzy, leading them directly into the heart of our very dark nightmare?

  Or was it something altogether different?

  “Zander, is there any chance the Zero Day Collective’s extraction process would involve sending an entire city’s population of moaners and screamers in for us?” And just as soon as the question was asked, it was answered.

  “What’s that sound?” Michelle once again pointed out the obvious change in our aural landscape.

  “That would be the extraction team landing a helicopter on the roof of the building,” Zander admitted.

  “Bethany! What do we do?” Jean said urgently.

  The answer to the question was simple: We either fight or we hide. I posed that to the gaping mouths facing me, but was met with complete silence.

  “Zander, this would be a great time for your input.”

  “We won’t defeat that team and they won’t leave until they have upturned every inch of this building. Our only chance is to let our enemies fight it out,” Zander said.

  Zander’s idea was brilliant, and our only chance. We allow the zombies entrance to the building. With thousands of the undead fighting and scraping for brains, the extraction team would be too busy saving their own asses to bother with us.

  “Once the team has engaged with the horde, we can make our way up to the roof and take off in their helicopter,” Jean picked up on the idea and added his voice to the plan.

  Zander agreed and informed us he could safely fly the bird on the building. I hoped like hell that was nothing more than coincidence.

  Something in the back of my mind…

  Fuck!

  The big question now was how to safely get down to the first floor and let our party guests in?

  Crashing.

  Roaring.

  Question answered.

  “Looks like our undead guests have crashed the party.” Everyone in the room, save Zander, seemed to clench every muscle in their body. Go time was now and we had no idea where we were going.

  “How do we make it to the roof without getting seen or caught?” Michelle was quite literally shaking, almost violently. I stepped close to her and wrapped my arms around her. I needed her to be strong, but I couldn’t help lend a sympathetic hug.

  Zander chimed in. “The team will split up between the stairs and the elevators. Either way we go we’re caught.”

  “What about the window?” Jean added.

  “That’s all me.” Instantly Michelle stopped shaking, gently shrugged me off, and started to head to the window.

  “Michelle?” I barked enough to catch her attention.

  “Remember, Mikka and I were on a Parkour team, I can climb anything.”

  I tried my best to stop her, but Michelle insisted my idea of nothing to climb was a veritable playground for her ilk. She had a great grin on her face and informed us she was going to climb to the top, tie off a rope, and lower it down to us. There was one problem with her plan – no rope.

  “Here’s a better idea,” Zander broke in. “If you can make it to the roof, you can then head down one of the flights of stairs back to this floor. If you can make it back safely, we have our route to the roof.”

  “And if she doesn’t make it back?” The situation called for caution, not for cavalry. I wasn’t about to let Michelle risk her life for nothing.

  “I guess that’s a chance I’ll have to take,” Michelle vetoed my concern.

  Before Michelle could make her way out the window the sounds of machine gun fire shocked us all back into the moment at hand.

  “That, my friends, is the sound of combat,” Zander said with an out of place smile on his face. “And it sounds like the team firing is nowhere near us,” he added.

  “Zander…are you saying it’s clear?”

  “I’m saying just that.”

  More machine gun fire reverberated off the marble walls. The sound was answered with a mob of roaring and moaning.

  “If we’re going to do this, we best do it now.” I started grabbing essentials and stuffing them in a pack.

  “What do you mean, Bethany?” Michelle looked at me, concern on her brow.

  “I mean the sounds of gunfire are below us and away from us. We take the nearest stairwell and we’re in the clear.” I caught Jean starting to pack. “Sorry Jean, we don’t have time for that. I grabbed most everything we needed. Pack your notes and serum and let’s get the fuck out of this soon to be ghost town.”

  Another issue leaped up and smacked me in the face. Mikka was still bedridden and there was no way we could carry him. Michelle read my mind and went to Mikka. After a brief chat, Michelle came to me, tears in her eyes and hitched in a breath.

  “Mikka is staying here. We both know there’s no chance he can make it and would only keep us from escaping. He’s promised me he will hide until we can come back for him. We can come back for him right?”

  An explosion rocked the room.

  “Now. We go now. Come on everyone, hit the floors running. Mikka, hide as best as you can and we’ll do everything we can to make it back.”

  I really couldn’t believe this was happening. The idea that Michelle had willingly allowed Mikka to remain behind was shocking, but at this point, nothing surprised me. Survival had become everyone’s modus operandi. And seeing Michelle tuck Mikka into the bed and promise him we would return was both touching and heartbreaking. I was certain we would not be returning. At least I hoped we wouldn’t be returning. I wanted to move this party onward and away from this hell.

  Jean had just enough time to pack what we needed to know and keep about the Mengele Virus and the vaccine, and we were gone. Each of us hit the stairs two at a time, full tilt. The sounds of gunfire and undead screaming and moaning were growing distant, little by precious little. When we hit the end of the line for the stairs we only found a locked door.

  “Fuck!”

  Before any of us could react, an unfamiliar voice greeted us from behind.

  “Are you looking for this?”

  None of us would even turn around. We knew what was happening, we just didn’t want to accept it.

  “I asked you a question. Are you looking for this?” The voice spoke again, this time with a bit more fever to its pitch.

  Just as I was about to turn and try to talk my way out of the situation the familiar sound of a screamer was heard barreling up the stairs to belly its way up to the buffet.

  “What do we do?” Jean whispered to me.

  “We let that thing take care of him.”

  The screamer pulled down the camouflaged soldier like he was a rag doll and started with its usual dance of cracking the skull open on the hard floor. The man’s skull was going to give way shortly and the screamer would finish its meal soon after. We had little time.

  Without warning I grabbed Zander’s gun from him and started muscling my way to the back of the group.

  “Bethany, what are you doing?” Zander called out, actual concern in his voice.

  “Getting the key to that door!” I yelled back, keeping my attention locked on the monster in front of me.

  “Hey, you ugly son of a bitch!” As soon as the beast gave me its attention I pulled off a single shot with aim as accurate as an Olympian marksman. The zombie went down, the bulk of his weight pinning the now-dead soldier to the ground.

  With a hard enough push, the corpse of the zombie rolled off and down the stairs with a hollow thump. The key to the door had slipped out of the unknown soldier’s hand and was pin
ned between his body and the stairs. Another push, another rolling, thumping corpse, and the key was mine.

  The door unlocked and we all poured out of the stairwell and raced toward the helicopter.

  We did it. Somehow we managed to escape what looked like certain death, capture, or worse. Now, the question remains –

  “Where to?” Zander asked.

  None of us had an answer. If the answer were solely up to me we’d be heading directly for the States. Any state, I didn’t care. Hell, I’d settle for Nebraska, Iowa, or even Kentucky for that matter. I just wanted to be in familiar territory. Of course, even I knew a helicopter couldn’t make it from Paris to the United States on a single tank of gas; and that assumed the tank was full to begin with.

  “Is there anywhere safe?” Michelle asked, a comforting naivety in her voice. “Could we find some military base or government building? Wouldn’t that be safe?”

  I had to set Michelle straight on one simple fact: the last group of people that could be trusted was the U.S. Government and military. Fortunately Michelle is young, so a predisposition to mistrust was practically bred into her. In fact, Michelle’s entire generation was weaned on conspiracy theory and anti-government sentiment that was fueled by nothing more than a blatant ignorance for the very thing they mistrusted.

  “So, Zander, where are we going?” Jean finally brought us all – well, mostly me – back to the immediate concern.

  “I thought we’d get clear of Paris and then see what we could find that looked safe.” Zander seemed sure of his course and I, for one, was glad to hear it. Let someone else take the reins for a moment. I could certainly use the rest.

  My eyes briefly locked onto those of Michelle. I caught a glimpse of sorrow attempting to break through. Poor thing. Amid all the chaos, I had forgotten she left behind someone she loved. My heart cracked open and threatened to bleed out for her. I wanted to reach out and touch her, but I knew that would open up the floodgates. It was very clear the girl was doing everything she could to keep it together. I did not want to weaken her resolve any more than it already was.

  “Jean, tell me you did at least get the research.”

  “And samples of the vaccine we produced. We’re covered. I have everything we need to continue our work.” Jean held in his hands a small medical kit that looked like it was stolen off the set of M*A*S*H.

  God – TV. I never thought I would find myself saying this, but I miss that mind-numbing waste of time. What I wouldn’t give for a rerun or two of any innocuous television show right now. Anything to help me forget the nightmare we were all living.

  “It amazes me how empty the sky is,” Jean said. “I would have thought, with what has happened, there would be plenty of planes or helicopters in the air trying to escape or search for survivors.”

  That last thought trailed off and hung in the air like a dirty contrail. I hadn’t really given that much thought, but Jean was right, where are all the search and rescue teams? I would have assumed some organization had the means and wherewithal to begin searching for living humans. But that wasn’t the case. It was as if humanity had become some forgotten commodity.

  My inner monologue was interrupted by the sounds of static from the helicopter’s radio.

  “Echo Bravo.”

  More static.

  “Repeat, Echo Bravo.”

  The haunting ghost from a recent past moment returned to point a condemning finger of blame. In an instant it became clear to me. We had been set up and we were now on a flight path to damnation.

  “Land the chopper, Zander,” I said, cocking my gun and pointing it toward the guilty pilot.

  “Bethany, what are you doing?” Jean said, confused and concerned.

  “I said, land the chopper. I know what’s going on. Land the fucking chopper!”

  “Whoa, Bethany, calm down. You don’t know what you’re saying,” Zander nearly laughed in my face.

  “Yes, actually, I do. You’re in on this whole thing. ‘Echo Bravo’. I remember. You’re one of them. It wasn’t just some happy accident you were able to fly this bird; and you knew those soldiers weren’t going to stop us from getting to the roof.” I raised the business end of the gun to Zander’s temple. “Land it.”

  “Bethany, what is going on?” Michelle was in tears.

  “Why don’t you ask Zander, Michelle? He’ll tell you everything.” It was hard to be so cold to Michelle at the moment.

  With tears flowing down her cheeks, Michelle turned to Zander. “Zander, what in the hell is going on? Is there any truth to what Bethany said?”

  Zander gave a low chuckle, making me want to bitch-slap him then and there. “Of course there is, Michelle. Bethany nailed it, although I have no idea how.”

  “Zander, if you don’t land this helicopter I will shoot you.”

  “Go ahead. You kill me and this bird goes down. Falling from this height will kill everyone instantly. You die, my job is complete. And since I knew this mission might possibly be a one-way ticket, I’m good with that. Remember, I’m a soldier, and soldiers do one thing – follow orders. My orders are to stop you with whatever means necessary. If that means I die in the process then so be it. Shoot me. Go right ahead. I die, you die.”

  Things were growing desperate. I had to think of something to get us on the ground.

  “Where are you taking us?” Michelle asked, which was fine with me. I needed time to think.

  “Well, Michelle, our headquarters are back in Germany. That is where we are going. Once there, I will hand you over to my commanding officer who will then process you into the system and you will be dealt with accordingly. But more importantly, your vaccine will be confiscated.” Zander was growing smug, like he knew he was moments away from victory.

  “Land it now, Zander!” I screamed, desperate.

  “Forget it, Bethany, it’s over!” Zander topped my volume and rage.

  So I shot him.

  “Shit! My leg! What the fuck?” Zander was screaming for a different reason now.

  “I know exactly how many bullets the human body can take, and where to place them, before either blood loss or shock render the human incapable of, well, life. Care to guess that number, Zander?” The smugness transferred from Zander to myself. I had all the power now and I would not let up.

  So I shot him again.

  “Land the chopper, Zander. Now!”

  When he made no motion to start the landing process, I pulled the trigger again. He screamed as blood began pooling in the pilot’s chair.

  “Fuck! Okay, just stop shooting!”

  For the record, I hated what I did. Torture is fundamentally wrong and I had not hesitated to just hand it out on a cold, silver platter. But I had to do something. To think everything we had done would be undone by the Zero Day Collective who caused this apocalypse was unthinkable. That could not, would not, be the conclusion to my story.

  Zander managed to bring down the bird with little more than a few grunts and a whimper.

  “Okay, we’re down. Now, do you think you could help me out here?” Zander’s voice was cracking from pain.

  “Why should we help a man who was about to turn us over to a group who would certainly have killed us?” That, and I hated the man, but that went without saying.

  “What, are you just going to leave me here?” he said disbelievingly.

  And that is exactly what we did, but only after we made sure to disable the helicopter. As much as I wanted to put a bullet through the man’s head, I couldn’t bring myself to do so. Leaving him stranded, with a ruined leg, was death sentence enough. Let him rot without the means to escape or communicate. Eventually the horde would get to him and fuck him if he thinks I give a shit.

  Blog Entry 12/15/2015 11:20 a.m

  There will be no mistakes this time. Although the blogging will continue, I will not give out any information that might lead to anyone locating us. Besides, at this point our location has zero bearing on the situation at hand.


  Suffice it to say, we are here on this festering, undead planet called Earth and we are lost. We are not just lost metaphorically, we are lost physically. We left Zander and the helicopter behind, set out on foot, and have found ourselves on some barren stretch of highway. It all wants to feel like the end, but it seems more like the beginning of another rousing round of Armageddon fun.

  Beyond zombies, political assassins, and starvation, our current biggest fear is the cold. It is winter and no matter where we are, this winter cold is biting – and none of us are dressed for it.

  I never was a good scout.

  “Bethany, we have to find shelter and food,” Jean said, his voice tainted with desperation.

  “And warm clothes,” Michelle added, her voice breaking through sobs.

  I knew this. My companions had not expressed anything that had not already been used as weaponry in my own inner turmoil. We were growing weak. A single moaner could sneak up on us and take us down.

  “Michelle, are you sure you don’t recognize anything?”

  “Bethany, I very rarely left Paris and when I did it was by plane. None of this is even remotely familiar,” Michelle cried, her frustration fueled by hunger and fear.

  And just as if fate knew we were so close to giving up, it decided to play a rousing game of ‘hide and go fuck yourself’ as a screamer’s battle cry launched its angry, hateful self our way.

  “Oh no. Not now, we can’t –” Michelle started crying.

  “Run. Run now!”

  We all took off, away from the sounds. I instructed Jean to shoot anything that looked suspiciously zombie-like. At this point in time that could mean anything. To that request, Jean dropped a real shit-bomb on me.

  “I don’t have a gun! I must have left it in the helicopter.”

  And seeing as how I emptied my gun into Zander’s legs, we were effectively unarmed with screeching sounds in three hundred sixty degrees of horrorama.

  “Bethany! A house!” Michelle didn’t even wait for confirmation or command, she simply took off toward the house that looked like it had been standing prior to America’s discovery. Michelle was lightning fast. In fact, I had never seen anyone run so fast. She reached the front door to the house, well before Jean or myself, and started pounding on the door.