In the End

I am a zombie. My life used to be normal, I used to be normal or at least that’s what I always told myself. Now I feel myself changing, changing too quickly for my own comfort. My reaction to the changes were of fear; fear of what was happening, fear because I had seen what was done to those who changed. I didn’t want to be hunted down but I also didn’t want to put my family in danger by letting them know I changed then proceed to receive their protection. Those who protected the infected were charged with a form of treason, sometimes killed on the spot. It was something I could never want for the ones I loved.

This change was happening while I was going to university, luckily I lived off campus and near the woodsy area. You always feel like nothing bad could ever happen to you, that’s not exactly how I felt, sure I was a little egocentric like most 21 year olds you know but I never had the best of luck. Before all the craze about infection seemed to spring up like terrible rash on the entire nation, I had the slight fear of something like this happening and always slept with a baseball bat at my bedside along with a machete and a small firearm in the closet. Shit started to hit the fan and I was actually planning to finish the last two weeks of school then go back home with my parents.

No such luck happened.

The last two weeks consisted of my change. Two weeks of utter hell. My body changed drastically. I lost a lot of weight because I was throwing up everything I put down my gullet. No cooked food could satiate my hunger. People started to look like Thanksgiving dinner and the insanity of that started to drive me mad.

I watched the news, seeing that people were attacking people. Not just attacking but eating. I’d cry, break things and pray for a cure. Then one night a stray dog showed up at my doorstep. I lured it into my home and my stomach grumbled loudly as I poured food for it to eat. The dog’s heart beat seemed louder than the bass in a low rider car blasting hip hop music.

It’s intense heartbeat rattled my brain and without any other thought I broke the dog’s neck and ripped its body open in an animalistic way. Oddly enough the hunger was gone when I woke up on the bloody linoleum floor surrounded by small animal bones. This carnal moment had me feed on a poor and defenseless dog. But I justified it, saying it could have been a human being.

I was scared, but certain of what I changed into and it was utterly terrifying. People like me were hunted down and killed on the spot for lack of control. One last time I called my parents, I was crying while my father told me to calm down and breath.

“I love you all just know that I love you.”

Those were my last words to them before I hung up the phone. I cleaned up the mess, cleaned up myself packed my things along with my weapons then sped off in my car. Within the year the world seemed to unravel and that’s where I am now. A year later traveling like a fugitive, no one at my side to give me reassurance but I was managing to keep control unlike most with my terrible condition. Within that year I became self-sufficient took back roads and hunted down my own food. I learned with that year that the hunger comes back quickly and the want for human flesh was still there even after feeding on a fresh animal. What I also learned was that when I ate pig, the hunger stayed away quite longer.

My theory was that pigs were closer to what human would taste like, also I knew pig valves were actually used in humans so it was possible that the link between the two species was close enough. I had a lot of theories and I tested a lot of them out. But I was no professional, I was a zombie. If I were to even go into the city and give my suggestion I wouldn’t be able to because I’d be shot on the spot.

During my travels I saw a lot of horrors on the back roads sometimes. People who had no self control or had worse cases of the same disease I had, were so primitive they did not talk they just followed the animal instinct and that was to kill. The zombies killed many innocent people. Most of the time I couldn’t help or talk sense into any of them; most of the time I just had to drive away.

I drove down the desolate street to see the incredibly large crowd of zombies. There were gunshots. Lights and yelling. It was what the news would call ‘real’ people, and they were surrounded, trying to fight off the zombies that had them cornered against the nearby building wall. My breathing hitched and I debated just driving away but something in me refused to let this group be killed so gruesomely. I rev upped the engine then I turned the bright lights on the all terrain truck I had recently stolen. Eyes narrowing I lifted my boot from the brake and rushed to the area.

The crowd was not moving only a few of the zombies looked in my direction. I quickly got out of the car with my bat in hand. They didn’t attack me. Somehow even though I looked human they knew I was one of them, most likely by my scent. It startled me, there were so many of them and to be honest I never had the balls to face any of them so close. But they didn’t even give me a second look so I moved their rotting bodies with my bat gently pushing them to the side so I could get by. It was quick and I stood in front of the impending attack they were going to make on the group of men.

One was injured, and bleeding badly. The other two were a bit beaten wielding knives because the bullets had run out. Their injuries not as immanent as the other one.

“I‘m going to help you,” I say calmly. I had to think on my feet and I began taking off my jacket, “Put this around you somehow.”
“What?”
“It has my scent on it, here you have my scarf then my shirt for you two, just trust me.”

I handed the clothes to the men who tied the articles around them. My hand touched the other man’s severe wound then spread the blood on my undershirt. The scent drove me wild and having it so close even had me fighting the want to lick my fingers clean.

“When I start the distraction you three get to my truck and quick,” I say as my heart felt like it was going to explode. “NOW!!”

My move was to focus on all the zombies who all stared at my newly exposed white tank top that was coated in the other man’s blood. It was confusing them and I placed my hand at one of the zombie’s mouths wiping the fresh blood on their cracked lips. The taste made it realize it was the real thing and I began my run through the crowd fighting off the group. I quickly ripped the shirt off and threw it into the crowd behind me then rushed into my truck. Luckily the men were in already and I turned the engine on then peeled out of the area without another thought.

Once I drove at least ten miles away into the more desolate area that was out of town I stopped the truck. I began dousing myself with hand sanitizer and wiping the blood off me that was driving me wild. It didn’t help of course considering there were men in my car bleeding. I opened the windows and wrapped a spare scarf I had in the side compartment around my mouth and nose.

“Who are you? And why didn‘t those things attack us because of your scent?” one man demands.
“Because she is one of those things,” the one sitting in the passenger seat states.
“What? Kill her then!”

Soon without warning there was a knife at my throat. My breath caught up in my throat and I made no movement at all. I realized that these men worked for the government, that they were a group of those hunting teams except their group was dwindled down to three from the usual group of seven.

“She helped us, she is capable of talking and driving,” the one man who was injured seriously.
“So what? How long before she changes completely.”
“Hughes take the knife from her neck and that is an order,” he responds.
“Fine,” the other man who had his knife to my throat mutters letting me loose. I exhaled the air and gripped onto the steering wheel.
“We need to get you to a hospital,” I breathe out.
“Its about twenty miles ahead of us,” the man answers.

“Okay,” I mutter biting my bottom lip briefly before speeding down the empty road. The road was cluttered here and there with old broken down cars but I dodged them strategically. It seemed to throw the men off that I was a fairly good driver. But what should have been a twenty minute drive was a nine minute one. Even so I wished I hadn’t been so fast because I soon realized it was not a hospital but a military base. I kept my foot on the brake and wanted them to get out fast so I could make my own getaway.

“Get out now,” I order.

“Winston grab the young woman,” the injured man orders as he hobbled to the now open entrance.
“Don‘t even dare try,” I snarl pointing a gun of my own at the man’s head, “Get out, or I won‘t hesitate to shoot.”
“You won‘t shoot me,” Winston responds.
“You‘d be surprised what people do in order to survive,” I say pulling the trigger and shooting him in the shoulder.

Quickly I maneuvered myself and brought my legs up then kicked him hard in the chest knocking him out the open door. I turned on the engine and began my plan to escape. There were gunshots everywhere as I drove trying to get away. The open doors took a moment to shut as I drove onwards. I thought I was in the clear, that all I had to do was out speed the small military vehicles. It the smell of fresh blood and the beating of a strong heart that entered my senses like a ton of bricks that alerted me otherwise.

Then the pressure of a needle entering my exposed neck ensued. My eyes widened looking at the rearview mirror; it was Winston. I let out a croak of surprise and my motor functions began to dwindle all the while. My grip on the stirring wheel fell onto my lap and my head landed on the wheel as my right foot weighted on the gas pedal. That was when everything went fuzzy.

I’d wake up in increments my eyes struggled to stay open as I was dragged back to the military base. My arms were slung on two pairs of shoulders and my gaze saw bits of things that had me horrified. Zombies caged up like animals, moaning and reaching out to the smell of flesh. The flesh I could smell more prominently now that I was weak. They were lucky I could not control my body, lucky that I couldn’t rip them to pieces, sucking their bones clean of any nutrients I needed. My mouth began to water at the thought of a meal, there were so many targets in one place.

No, I couldn’t. I couldn’t let myself give in to the cravings to eat human flesh not when I had worked so hard to be human. This change in me brought a monster that I caged up inside but the monster retaliated. My once chestnut brown hair turned white, my sanity only holding on by a string. Being dragged I didn’t have anymore strength to keep my head lifted, I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t stop what was going to happen to me next.

And from what I could see, nothing good would happen. I was to be a test animal, most likely killed for sampling and other treacherous tests. My fate line was at its end and destiny had be trapped.