* * *
Norm was a bit worried that he’d been forgotten about. He and Gladys had left Samuel’s twelve days ago when Gladys’s son had visited her house, and he’d expected that men with rifles would have found them and put them down by now. Surely someone had discovered his diary in Samuel’s cellar and knew that there were zombies on the loose, so why weren’t they doing anything? How could anyone forget about a zombie horde?
And it really was a horde now. Gladys had converted a young couple on their trek to the abandoned milking shed they now called home. Since then, they’d converted another dozen or so: people on nature walks or kids out exploring or neighbours investigating noises at night. People who, if they’d kept their wits about them, could easily have escaped. Instead, they’d been frozen with horror until the zombies converted them.
Still, apart from those accidents, the society was coming along nicely. Half of the milking shed was used as a theatre, with nightly performances of The Bill, which was the only show everyone liked. The rest of the time it was used by anyone who wished to open a discussion. There was equality, peace, and freedom of thought here.
But for how much longer? There were too many cows here for them to remain hidden much longer. Soon, someone would notice the missing two-dozen ungulates and bring an end to the zombie society. They’d already converted one farmer who’d followed his herd right to them.
Still, the cattle or accidental discovery weren’t his main problem. Norm’s main problem was swaying in front of him: a recent convert who wasn’t settling well into zombie life. At first he’d thought Sophie hadn’t understood his arguments for human preservation, but now it seemed she’d understood perfectly. She just didn’t agree.
Please, Sophie, don’t ruin this, Norm said. We have a good thing here. The distractions of age, need, sight, sound, have all been eliminated. We’re free to ponder the mysteries of the universe.
And we kill people, Gladys put in, not willing to let Norm coat too much sugar on their existence.
Or do we free them? Sophie asked. I never thought this clearly in life. Who’s to say it’s bad, what happened to us?
You can’t leave the shed, Norm said again, because he couldn’t argue her on principles. He was enjoying himself a lot more as a zombie than he had as a human, but he didn’t think that gave him licence to kill others so they could experience it. If someone finds you, Sophie, they’ll kill us all.
That’s what you say, old man, Sophie said.
Brains are going to be awesome! Reg shouted.
Ah, Reg. Reg was… different. The attack on him had nearly been successful. The zombies attacking him had chipped off a section of his skull with their teeth. From the back, it was possible to see his brain.
Look, Norm said reasonably, we can’t attack the city. It would be murder. Why can’t you be more like Rowena and Dave?
The group turned to the shed’s open door. They couldn’t see that far, but they knew what was there: outside, Rowena and Dave would be sitting in the middle of a group of cows, communing with the beasts and composing epic poems they luckily couldn’t remember later on. Norm was sure that, if they’d had the coordination, they would have stripped naked by now, not that they could see or feel the difference.
That’s not real zombiism, Sophie said. They’re denying their needs and drives.
They’re dead! Norm said. We’re all dead! We don’t have needs or drives.
Then what’s the brainlust?
The brainlust isn’t what being a zombie is about.
Sophie was still quite fresh, but Norm thought he saw a few wisps of black hair drift down as she shook her head. It’s sad, the way you refuse to change. We’re not human, Norm. Cast aside your life and embrace your death.
I’m doing that, Norm complained.
No you’re not. You think like a human. We’re zombies: we’ll never be complete until we’ve eaten brains. I can’t pretend any more. Sophie sighed and addressed the horde. If you’re like me, then join me.
Norm felt a number of eyes on him, waiting to follow his lead. Many times, he’d tried to explain that each zombie should think for itself. Everyone had agreed with him. Norm wasn’t sure what to make of that.
Sophie turned to leave.
Woo! Brains! Reg shouted.
By the time Sophie reached the shed door, nine zombies had joined her. They stepped into the evening light and began pushing their way through the cattle.
Please don’t do this! Norm shouted, trotting after them.
Brains! Reg yelled, pointing at a cow. He put his teeth to its head. Even without clear vision, Norm knew Reg could never spread his jaw wide enough to crack the skull. In fact, his attempts to bite it were rather pathetic. He couldn’t decide which direction to attack it from, and ended up just twisting his head from side to side.
Reg! Sophie said. Do you want to be a cattle zombie, or a man zombie?
Reg released the cow. Man zombie, he said quietly. The cow walked back to its herd, mildly annoyed but unharmed.
That’s right. Sophie’s white eyes turned to Norm. Are you coming?
When Norm said nothing, she staggered away under the afternoon sun.
Why couldn’t she just stay put? Why did she have to ruin everything? The hunting parties Norm had feared hadn’t found them, which meant they were free to live out their deaths in peace. And now Sophie would ruin all that by provoking the humans.
What do we do, Norm? Gladys asked, taking Norm’s remaining hand in a thick grip. It was as close as they could come to holding hands.
We try to talk them out of it, he said. And if we can’t… then I suppose we die. Again.