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Story Time! *** All Good Things Part Two! ***
All Good Things
“All I’m sayin’ is, cheese would be on my list,” I shook my head and tutted at him but Conrad laughed and continued on, “just hear me out.”
I stopped walking, the train tracks beneath my boots long since used. His idiocy was beginning to grate on my nerves more than usual. “Nah, man, it doesn’t matter what you say; cheese is a
stupid fucking thing to take to a dessert island.”
“No, listen, it’s basically mould anyway, right? And I love cheese. I mean, you can eat it with anything!” he grinned like he was telling me something intelligent. “So basically, it would last
for—” he spread his arms wide, “for fucking ever, right.”
It wasn’t a question, merely a statement.
My fingers twitched around my gun as I stared into his face, equally disgusted by his choice
of items for our fictional dessert island and by his own stupidity. Every time I thought he had
reached the lowest level, he said something new and even more ridiculous. He was the worst partner in this crazy world as ever there could be, and his days were drastically coming to
“Listen, numbnuts, you can’t eat cheese if it’s mouldy, there are some you can—but not all.
You’ll get the shits eatin’ that stuff, not to mention whatever else that stuff would do to your insides. Besides, what happens when you’ve eaten all your cheese? You’d fuckin’ starve, man.” I turned and continued to walk away, stepping over the debris on the tracks.
We were heading to California, to the beach. It had been Conrad’s idea originally, me, I was a wonderer. Ain’t no home or no place for someone like me in this world, not anymore, and that was okay, that was how I liked it. But Conrad, he wanted roots. He wanted a home, and a sofa and a white picket fence. But most of all he wanted a good woman on his arm. Or at least a woman chained to his bed and ready to do his bidding whenever he damn well pleased. So we were heading to California where all the women looked like Barbie clones and strutted around in bikinis all day. At least, that’s how it had been before the apocalypse.
I was almost certain that those bitches would be the first ones to be killed when it all went down.
It didn’t matter to me, not really.
It was all just inconsequential bullshit that filled my day up with its less than monotonous drivel.
In fairness, Conrad had been good company for a couple of weeks, but even that didn’t matter since I had every intention of slitting his throat either before we arrived at our destination, or
when we got there. I was still debating which would be the most horrific for him. To never reach
his dream, or to get within spitting distance before I killed him.
“Alright then, what would your three items be? Since you think you know just about everything.”
He fell into step beside me and I bristled at his close proximity. I did not like to be touched.
I kept my eyes on where I was walking, already knowing what items I would take with me.
“A Hatchet, a litre bottle of vodka and some rope.” I answered.
He snorted on a laugh. “You ain’t got no food. You’re gonna starve, you idiot.” He laughed again, harder this time, the sound filling me with more irritation than nails down a blackboard.
“A gots a hatchet to kill shit, vodka to sterilize the meat or any cuts I might get, and rope to make me a fine damn bed or make hunting traps.” I side-glanced at him.
Or to hang your body from a damn palm tree if I’m unfortunate to have you with me.
Conrad’s mouth downturned a he thought over my argument. Eventually he nodded, his lips pursing. “Alright, you make a valid argument. But my cheese would make whatever you caught and killed taste mighty fine,” he said without looking at me.
I was about to argue with him when the trees to our left rustled and the tell-tale groan of a zombie could be heard. Conrad’s face turned ashen and he glanced at me as we came to a stop.
He hated these things, hated this world like it was. He said this world wasn’t right for people like me and him, but I disagreed. I thought it was perfect for people like me and him. It was our own personal playground of destruction.
The zombie stumbled out of the treeline, its head tilted upwards as it sniffed the air for
anything it could eat. Its head snapped sideways, its cold dead eyes searching us out. Conrad
had probably attracted it right to us with his incessant talking and clumsy footsteps.
I drew out my machete, deciding on a quiet kill for once. I had no satisfaction in killing these things, and I avoided it at all costs, if I could. They were, after all, the evolution of man, and what place did I have to kill something like that? None, that’s what. I had no right and no damn place, but until I made my decision to become one of them—to join their undead ranks, I had to take them out
or be taken out.
My whole life I had been in control, and my death and rebirth would be just as controlled.
I stepped forwards, listening as Conrad let out a relieved breath that I was taking care of this for us—again. The urge to kill his stupid ass was getting harder to resist, and if it were a choice between him and the zombie in front of me, I would gladly choose him. Unfortunately, I needed him for a little longer.
The truth of the matter was, in this new world, you could almost never survive on your own.
I needed Conrad while I remained human.
The zombie had finally found us, and it was slowly making its way forwards, like a lion on the prowl, slowly hunting its prey across the land. It was a beautiful sight, all of its predatory senses heightened as it hungered for flesh, for blood and bone and skin, and death.
It was strong, beyond human strength. With no fear, and no limits.
It was amazing.
It stalked across the tracks towards us, its footing was unsteady because of all the debris
and it stumbled and fell to the tracks, slamming its face into the metal. The crunch of teeth and bone made me grin, especially when it looked up showing me the damage it had done to itself. Black gunk dripped from its mouth and its front teeth were shattered, but it wasn’t fazed, it
didn’t flinch or cry like a little damn baby, it just began to clamber to its feet again.
“Amazing, fuckin’ amazing.” I grinned, before stepping forwards and taking off its head in
one quick slice.
The head flew from its body as my blade separated head from shoulders, and it landed with a
hard crunch to my left, jaws still snapping, eyes still trying to find me. My grin stayed in place as I carried on walking down the tracks and Conrad jogged to catch up to me.
“You not finishing that off?” he asked.
“Oh,” he replied, scratching his head and looking confused, but knowing better than to question
me on anything I said or did.
We continued on in silence, just the steady hum of my blood thrumming through my veins
and the crunch of our boots. In the distance I heard the groan of another zombie coming from somewhere, but it seemed far enough away that it wouldn’t bother us if we kept on
walking in silence.
My stomach rumbled in hunger, and I thought about what we would be eating for our dinner
this evening. It wouldn’t be what I was hankering for, that was for certain, and that made me incredibly sad.
But soon I would make the transition.
Soon I would belong.
© Copyright Claire C. Riley 2017
See you tomorrow for part three of the story!
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