Tommie the Zombie

A Story by Nick Lynott

epic tale of friendship, adventure and heroism

I hadn’t lived in Colorado very long, only a couple months. I moved out here with Tommie, a good friend of mine, from the great lakes area, just south of Detroit Michigan. We had hopes of building a food truck and selling our tasty creations all over the Denver area, but we never even got started.

Chapter 1

It was a normal Thursday afternoon. I had left work early and decided to walk the three miles home instead of taking the bus, it was a beautiful day after all. When I got home I saw Tommie’s Jeep parked out front. So it surprised me to walk into an empty apartment. The surprise faded quickly when I noticed my roommate’s door was closed. He never leaves his door closed. I remembered wondering if he was sick and trying to hibernate through the cold, but not giving it much thought past that.

Over an hour later I finally heard a noise creep from his room, then a second noise, followed by a third surprisingly loud thud. The thud was enough to make me put down my Xbox controller and get up to check on my friend.

First I knocked and waited, then after no reply I knocked again and said “Hey buddy, everything okay in there?” This time I received a groan in reply. Unfortunately it was not a groan that told me the answer to my question. So I asked “Can I get you a glass of water or something?” to which I heard “Aaeehhh” in reply. And that one I took as a yes, so I made my way to the kitchen and poured a glass of water from the faucet. I quickly returned to the door and with a quick knock I opened the door.

As soon as I had the door open far enough to see into the room I froze, but not because of what I saw. The smell that came from Tommie’s room was revolting and powerful, like getting smacked in the face with a dirty sock filled with week old road kill, not pleasant. I was only frozen for an instant before the door was wrenched from my hand.

Towering over me was a decayed version of my friend Tommie. His skin was saggy and holding a yellow tinge. His eyes were filled with blood to the point that multiple shades of red were their only color. What was left of his hair looked brittle and waiting to fall out, his lips and teeth were covered in blood and the skin on his face looked like it had been partially torn away. He didn’t wait more than a second before he lunged at me from the doorway. He slammed me into the wall and I immediately dropped to the floor and frantically crawled away from him. I took him a moment to realize I wasn’t still in his clutches and that was enough time for me to get into my room and shut the door. I knew it wouldn’t hold very long, Tommie was 6’7” and over 300 pounds, but it was definitely better than nothing. It was only moments after my retreat that the door began to shake from the pounding of a giant, I had to think fast. I grabbed the machete I had in my camping gear in the closet and then I jumped up on my bed and waited.

I didn’t have to wait long before the door took its final hit and crashed to the floor. Tommie spotted me and charged like a bull. I was waiting for this and quickly jumped to my left and slashed my blade at my friend’s right arm. I made good contact just below the elbow and cut all the way to the wrist, Tommie didn’t even seem to notice the wound and only refocused his attack towards my new location. I slashed again at the same arm and made contact with his shoulder this time but unfortunately he again didn’t seem bothered and this time had been able to use his other arm to grab me by the neck. He was quickly cutting off all my sweet oxygen. I hacked and slashed with my machete so much that I could feel his warm drops of blood start to speckle my skin. It seemed like I was slashing forever, lost in a tornado that would never end unless I could just keep slashing, but no matter how much I hacked and slashed Tommie’s iron grip never seemed to relax. My eyes were starting to burn and I could only see little white and silver spots, I knew I would be dead soon.

All or the sudden the relentless iron grip was gone. I shook my head trying to clear the spots out of my vision, it didn’t help much. As my eyes finally started to focus I saw something that made me wish they were still blurry. My good friend and roommate had stopped his assault on me to take the time to dine on my cat, who I can only assume died coming to my rescue. For a second I could only hear the sick crunching and chewing of the meal I was witnessing. The second wore off quickly and I was filled with rage. I slowly walked up to Tommie, who now was sitting on the ground with his back to me, and grabbed what was left of his straw like hair with my left hand while drawing my machete back with my right. Then with all the force I could possibly collect I swung at my friend’s neck. The blade sunk into his neck about 3 inches before it was stopped by his spinal column, so I screamed, yanked out my blade and swung even harder. It took me three more swings to make it all the way through, which left me holding the head of my friend while it emptied its remains all over me. I dropped his head and walked out of the room before I made the mistake of looking at the remains of what had just happened.

Sometimes I feel like it was only a moment before they were beating on the door and sometimes I feel like I was sitting on that floor covered in blood for hours. Nonetheless they did come, the police I mean, and hauled me off to jail. I was accused of killing Tommie and my cat. No matter how I said it they refused to believe that Tommie had been out of his mind or worse. They wouldn’t even believe he attacked me. They said no one could have withstood the amount damage I inflicted and continued, that I must be psychotic for what I did to Tommie and my cat.

They convicted me of murder and gave me 25 to life.

All for saving the world.