Day 3

Day 3

I woke up to the sound of moaning.

Opening my eyes, I saw a zombie, dressed in a police uniform reaching down for me. I jumped back, well, fell back, and rolled away from the officer. It let out another hellish moan and shuffled towards me. Luckily, I could think straight right after waking up, so I knew what to do.

The machete was behind the ghoul, so I couldn't get it without the risk of getting grabbed and bit. So I did the only thing I could. Walking to the edge of the roof, I crouched and waited for the zombie to get closer. When he was within reaching distance, I push off and went around him, barely avoiding his reaching hands. As he groaned and slowly turned around, I ran up and kicked him off the roof, Spartan style. Bit dramatic, I know, but it did the job. He stumbled backward,  moaned one last time, and tipped over the edge of the roof.

It turned out that I wasn't thinking as clearly as I thought. As the zombie started his long fall down to the mob thirty floors below, like a rocker diving onto the crowd, I saw that the strange thing hanging loosely from his rotten belt was a handgun. 

"Aw s**t!" I thought, and jumped towards the ghoul, reaching out for the precious firearm.

Twenty minutes later, I was still sitting on the edge of the roof, looking down at the zombie's rotten left shoe in my hand, dumbfounded at the fact that I had basically just thrown a weapon I desperately needed hundreds of feet below me. Oh well, it was probably rusted beyond repair anyway. 

After that depressing event, I barricaded the rooftop entrance again. I knew that I would have to take it all apart by tomorrow, because although a human can survive without food for about three weeks, I had no water left. After three days, I would be dead from dehydration. Anyhow, I can't risk to starve myself, I won't have the energy to fend for myself against the undead.

Sometimes I envy zombies. They don't feel pain. They don't have any weakness besides the brain, and even that's concealed in one of the hardest materials in nature. They also don't need to breathe, don't need blood circulation, don't need the immune system, don't need any vital organs really. Drinking, and yes, eating are also things that they needn't do. For some terrifying reason, the virus that infects the unfortunate human programs the body to hunt down any living creature and devour it, besides their own kind of course. The closest they have to fights are when there's food to be eaten, otherwise they just ignore each other. The food that they eat doesn't serve any nutritional value to the zombie, since the bacteria in the stomach that breaks down the food that we so greedily eat are all gone. It just sits in the stomach and colon, slowly rotting, until the zombie has eaten so much that the food is literally forced out of the anus. Sometimes, in extreme cases, their stomachs even explode. But they don't give a single goddamn. They just keep eating like Roman emperors at supper, even though the food drops out of their dismantled stomach five seconds after they swallowed it. 

Speaking of supper, eating my last meal now. Maybe that's not such a good way to put it. 

Having the last supper now. Hmm...

Anyway, tomorrow's a big day. Got to get a good night's sleep tonight, even if I'm sleeping I'm sleeping in a parachute, and the only lullabies around are moans and shuffling footsteps. No matter what, tomorrow I'm going down.

Downstairs, I mean. Jeez, my subconscious is such a pessimist. 

Reviews

[Vincent Savoretti]

Just stopped in to see if anything had changed, good to see you're back in it I can't wait to read these next two chapters.