Undead Life

A story about a zombie takeover with a comic twist. For more of my writing, go to andrewhenleywriting.wordpress.com

The light flickers above me as I lean against a pillar and take a breath. Lovers’ initials are scratched and scored, signs of the old life. Peering around across the empty floor of the old mall, I see the fountain, now just a still lake. It no longer spits or dances. The marble rim is soaked in green moss and mildew. Pennies still line its sea bed. Beyond the fountain, I see another like me. Crouched in the entrance of the closed down Primark, his ripped black trousers hover above bare feet. White shirt torn, tattered and dirty. Grey skin and bloody hands.

 

I look down at my arms. My grey skin is cold like clay. It merges into the bloody shores of my wrists. Hands stained red. All the lines and cuts a deeper maroon. Behind my bloody handprints on the pillar, an engraved heart with ‘Kim’ inside it. Left by some boy in love with a pretty girl, before they closed this place down. Before we took it over.

 

Coming from the left, closing in on Primark, two Patrolmen. Black baseball caps and orange sunglasses. Their black jackets are bulky, not from muscles but from the equipment stuffed in there. One of them has their cargo pants tucked into their socks, like they’re special ops. They both carry shotguns, the special ops guy waving his around, pointing it at every pillar. He doesn’t see me. He doesn’t even really look.

 

As the Patrolmen walk past the entrance of Primark, the other zombie jumps out at them. He grips their necks and tears. Standard technique for best blood spurt. We always try to make things look good. They fall down, the Special Ops kid gives out a slightly too forced moan. The other zombie runs off around a corner.

 

I run across the empty room and lean back against the doorway of a Disney store. This is where I usually come. There’s a Mickey Mouse painting in the window who helps me out. I look into Mickey’s smiling face, his big gawking grin, then glance behind me at a blonde woman walking with a little boy. I tense up and get ready to jump out.

“Not yet,” Mickey tells me.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Not yet. They’re not close enough”

I look again, and the mother and child are closer. I can make out both of their faces. I stand and get ready to leap out.

“Not yet!”

“I can catch them.”

 “That’s not your style. Are you a man, or a mouse? You wanna surprise them; kill ‘em before they know you’re there,” Mickey winks at me, and keeps his big mouth grinning.

 “Shut up.”

“You know I’m right.”

“Shut up!”

“I’ve never led you wrong. They love you because of me.”

“It’s not because of you.” My eyes dart out. If I reached out now, I’d be able to touch them.

“Yeah right. That’s why you hide out in the exact same spot every time.”

“It’s a good hideout, that’s all.”

“They’re coming! Now!” Mickey screeches.

 

I jump out and grab the woman. She falls the floor beneath me with a blood explosion. I kiss her and the little boys says “Ew!”

I reach up to the boy’s face and smear it in sugary blood. He laughs.

 

Above us, the tannoy system counts down from five to zero and electrically shouts “Game over!”

I get off the woman and tear the boy’s neck. He keeps laughing.

“Dad! They said game over!”

 

I remove the blood squab from my son’s neck before I help my wife to her feet. Then I remove my own blood squab. Having these zombie experience weekends has really brought us closer as a family.

 

During the week my job is literally a piece of s**t, cleaning toilets for minimum wage. But every weekend I die, and every weekend I come to life. I’m only alive when I’m undead.

Reviews

[Dean Kuch®]

Heh-heh, this was a toxically terrific tale of twisted terror kiddies! (Sorry I let my Crypt Keeper persona out again. That happens sometimes...)

You had me wondering the entire time, "How in the hell can a zombie be formulating rational thought processes?" And then, you hit me with that brilliant ending. This is good stuff...keep 'em comin'!