Silence on the Farm

They’re eating again.

            It wasn’t just the smell that led me to that conclusion. It was the information assaulting all five of my senses. The noises they make are revolting. The smacking and tearing and slurping as they tear the flesh from their victims. I watched it happen the first time, as they dug their yellowed teeth into a poor fellow’s shoulder. He happened to wander onto the farm, thinking it’d be safe from the infestation. Oh, how wrong he was. I couldn’t watch for long, it made my stomach turn. I was lucky they hadn’t turned me into lunch yet, but then again, there was plenty of food on the farm. The first to go was the dog. A family of seven flesh eating zombies going straight for the unknowing canine. When he first saw them, I guess he hadn’t gotten a whiff of their rotting flesh yet, because he bounded towards them, tongue out, slobber flying everywhere, tail wagging. And then he realized it too late. They didn’t smell right. They smelled like dead animals. He tried to run, but it was too late. The dog was backed into a corner and his cries died long before they were finished snacking.

            The only reason they haven’t caught me yet is because I’m faster than they are. I’ve got four legs, and a body built for racing. I’m no ordinary farm horse. I was the family’s pride race horse before they were…changed. And of course, then I became one of their targets. They came after me not too long after they turned. I got lucky though. When they were stumbling towards me, a breeze happened to be blowing in my direction and I caught a whiff of dead flesh. Nostrils flaring, I realized that the dead flesh belonged to my former family. I turned tail and galloped away from there, leaving them in the dust.

            I know that sounds cowardly, but what else would you have me do? Yeah, sure, I could probably bash their brains in with a good kick, but that would put me at risk. While I had my leg out, what if one of those mindless drones grabbed my leg and sunk their teeth right in? And then the other ones would grab me and I’d be dead meat, literally. As much as I support heroism, I’m not all for getting eaten when I could have saved myself by simply running away.

            So far, the only other actually living things I’ve seen on the farm are two pigs. Apparently being covered in mud protects you from zombies. I think it’s got something to do with the smell…or lack thereof. Either way, once I saw the pigs, and saw that the zombies just stumbled right past them without even a glance, I trotted right over and stopped in front of those dirty swine’s mud puddle. I looked at in disgust, really not wanting to commit the deed. But, I wanted to live, so it had to be done. I closed my eyes, and nose, best as I could, and rolled into the squishy puddle.

            After I had completely covered myself in brown gunk, I got back to my feet, sorry, my hooves, and made my way back to pasture. My former family had disappeared for the day, my guess was somewhere in the barn. It was hard to tell, what with the smell of rotting flesh coming from all directions.

            I think it might be best for me to leave this farm soon. I’m tired of the smell, of the sounds…well, the lack of sounds. It was unsettling. I had been so used to all the noises of the farm, the animals, the birds, the mill churning, and the children laughing. After the infection, silence had draped onto the land like a blanket. Now the only sound was the occasional ruffle of the leaves and a chirp or two from a bird that dared venture onto the farm. Some of them had attempted to peck at the dead bodies, and lo and behold, a few hours later there were half dead birds filling the skies, dive bombing whatever they could before they fell to the ground because their feathers were falling off. Yeah, life is wonderful.