I’m mortally afraid of death, but among my many miserable years of living on this earth, I’ve realized there’s a worse punishment than death. And that’s being eternally alone. There’s no one around to take care of you, no one to correct you, no one to reassure you that everything is going to be ok or that you’re worth living. There’s nobody, and that’s scary because spending your whole life without being with anyone can fundamentally change you. You can become a monster and somehow think you’re perfectly ok.
Seeing Bernardo doubled down on the ground, slushing up sloppy blood, made me realize that this was just the beginning of being forever alone, and it was quickly sprouting. My mom and dad have never been a part of my life, and I never had many friends in school. All I have is my grandmother and two older brothers. But now this virus has started to take them too. Pretty soon it will hack each of us down until I’m the only one alive.
Why Bernardo even? A virus like this is supposed to take out old people with weak immune systems or people who are just inherently ill. How did Bernardo fit into all of this? Was it on a mission to eradicate all the adults first and then move on to the kids? Is the disease just a callous monstrosity waiting to slowly take us all down. If I was a vengeful disease, that sounds like the type of demented thing I would do.
Bernardo lungs down another pool of blood. This time he’s as pale as the bald guy we saw at the hospital. His eyes are glimmering, his body is tremulous, and he’s shaking his head. The shimmering blood is starting to form a large red puddle and is trickling down the hill.
“Listen, you've got to get out of here,” he groans, wiping red saliva from his quivering lips. His chocolate colored eyes has started to grow sickly gray bags underneath them. “Go home. Lock the doors. And wait for the military to drop by.”
“Quit your yapping Bernardo, you’re going to come with us. You're going to get better and they're going to cure you. All you need is a little bit of tidying up,” says Matteo. He’s been real reserved. “Right Addis?”
“Yeah, I’m sure there’s a cure out there,” I say, “you’ll be ok if you come with us.”
Bernardo hurls. The blood is starting to come out darker and heavier this time. The glistening eyes start to water and overflow. “I-I don’t think that’s how it’ll work this time guys. I don’t h-have the energy. Look I- “
A replicated cough cuts off Bernardo’s words and then it morphs into a hearty snarl. The pale, graceless figure of Abuela is getting up and hobbling her way toward Bernardo. Her eyes are milky white and her face is shriveled thin, but she is still, oddly enough, recognizable.
“Grandma?” I croak.
“The bat! GET THE BAT!” Matteo shouts.
“Where?”
“In the trunk!” Matteo trills.
I scurry over to the back of the truck and file through any sign of a large wooden stick. Bernardo clutches his stomach and scampers down the hill from Abuela’s pursuit. But he’s too weak to carry on any faster. Before I can whip around with the bat, Abuela has already pounced on him. Bernardo’s piercing screaming echoes across the orange hill and pervades the town. The tangible sounds of crunching and gushing skin hisses into the air and Bernardo stops squirming. His body lies still and defeated.
I hold the bat tightly and prepare to swing. Abuela rounds on me next. I meet her dead white eyes and withering pallor, but her legs don’t move. It’s as if she’s trying to read me before she lays an eagle strike. I reaffirm my grip on the bat, bracing for the attack. My heart is throbbing near inches from my throat, my eyes are bulging, and my hands have never felt slimier than now.
We all talk about zombies in tv shows, movies, and video games, and even joke about it all the time. But this is different. They’re not just dumb creatures out to eat your brains and ruin your life, no. They’re real and they’re humanlike. It turns out they’re just like us, just undead, broken, and unconscious. Which makes them all the more threatening and harder to kill. I never even thought I would live to see a zombie in real life, but when you actually see one, you see it! Seeing my Abuela like this made me realize this.
I’m rammed aside and my bat falls lopsided in the air. The flashing figure of Matteo grabs it and hastens to batter Abuela to the ground. Abuela screeches, clawing the air and hacking some punches but after several skull-crushing blows and bits of brain crumbling out, she’s still again.
Panting, Matteo saunters over to Bernardo’s motionless body, crouches over his face, and closes his eyes, like slowly closing the evening blinds after a long day. Drops of silvery tears drench his face. Then Matteo hammers Bernardo's skull in without hesitation.
“What the hell!” I cry. I go over to swipe the bat away from Matteo but he pushes me back.
“You were supposed to kill her,” Matteo utters, his breathing undulating even more. “Why did you just stand there?”
“She’s our grandma,” I say firmly. “We don’t just kill family!”
“They aren’t family, they’re monsters, Addis. These things just want to eat and infect, that’s all they do.”
“She recognized me, Matteo. As if she can think. Doesn’t that tell you that part of her was still inside? That part of her is still human?”
Matteo blows a tragic sigh, walks up to me, and puts his hand on my shoulders. “Thinking and feeling are two different things. These things might be able to think, but I guarantee you they have no sentimental feelings. They can’t be led to do anything but eat and kill.”
I ruminate about it for a second. “Like-Like an animal?”
“Like an animal.”
We spare an extra minute mulling on our pathetic situation as we look down at our mutilated guardians. It seems surreal to think that this was happening, that in the span of a day I’ve lost two of the most important people in my life.
“What do we do now?”
“We go back home and wait until help from the government comes,” says Matteo, sticking to Bernardo’s instruction. “It’s best this way, for the both of us. We’ll be ok, Addis, really.”
I want to believe him, but so far nothing has been working in my favor as of late.
We trudge back to the car and drive back to town. Matteo’s driving even though he only holds a learner’s permit, but it’s not as chaotic and messy as I imagined it would be. Although he is blaring the reggaeton real loud on the speakers.
A whole host of ambulances and police cars are zooming past us, and I hear a mechanical chopping noise fly over us. The sleek black helicopter is convoyed by five more helicopters and several Humvees and military cargo trucks as they sweep north toward the same highway we’re going on. Already I can see there have been several accidents on the road and there are several bodies lying on the ground. It seems police cars don’t really seem to care about patrolling the roads anymore, since they have bigger fish to fry. They all seem to be swarming toward downtown Phoenix.
I start to think about names and how weird they are. Like what do we call these sick creatures that don't have anything to do with the z word, because something tells me that the word “zombie” isn’t going to stick around very long. Someone's bound to come up with a really clever or really lazy name. It’s only a matter of time. And I can grab the opportunity to come up with a new name but why reinvent the wheel am I right?
“What do you call a monster that sleeps on the road?” Matteo asks, lowering his music.
“What?”
“A zzzombie. Get it?”
I fix my best smile as we move toward an exit. I can already see the skyline of downtown Phoenix up ahead.
We arrive at our flat, tiled, tan house, but oddly enough, there already seems to be somebody there. There are two cargo trucks parked near our driveway and about a dozen soldiers roaming around our lawn. They’re all carrying heavy automatic rifles and they all look built and completely solemn. Two burly soldiers, clad in baggy camo uniforms approach us as we make our way to the door. They both have a Scandinavian look about them. One, with short white-blonde hair is named Brandy, and the other with long black hair and a lot of scars on his face is Mikkelen.
“Sorry for the intrusion,” says Brandy. “But we’re on government orders to patrol the area and keep guard. Your time and patience will be greatly respected.”
“Just get in there and do what you do. We’re just doing our jobs,” grumbles Mikkelen, now taking the time to light his cigar.
Matteo goes inside, but I freeze back.
“Do you guys know what’s causing this virus?” I ask.
“Sorry kid, our corporal hasn’t let anything slip. We’re just in the dark as you are. But we’ll let you know if something comes up.” I doubt they will but I give Brandy a weak nod and slip inside the door.
As the starry purple sky sets above our house, I play through the last hours of my Eat or Die game. Matteo even joins me through parts of it, though I have to explain the rules to him. I doubt he listens because he ends up losing badly. Then he dips out to talk to Paula on the phone. Afterward, I eat some leftover pizza, and now I’m camping out in the living room. I’m too scared to sleep in my room after what happened to grandma and Bernardo. It’s much better here because it makes me feel like my heart is still beating and that I’m somewhat still alive. Hearing Brandy and Mikkelen’s voices outside our door doesn’t hurt too bad either.
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