Short Story: I, Zombie – Part 7

Short Story: I, Zombie – Part 7

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Good evening once again peeps, and welcome to part 7 of I, Zombie. For those of you who have followed the story so far, this current run will end with part 10 and then go on what I’m calling a mid-season break so I can write a few more one-off tales that don’t feature the undead.

There will be more news about the future for I, Zombie over the coming weeks, so stay tuned for updates.


It was the first time he had been left alone since waking up in the hotel room. Pops was uncomfortable with this. What if by being alone he would regress? He walked around the room constantly, doing everything he could to distract himself from the hunger. He had not eaten since long before the last zombie attack and now he was facing the unbearable pain that the hunger created.

They had been met with hostility from the armed guards protecting the base when Howard had arrived outside its entrance. There had been more hostility when Pops had climbed out of the jeep. It was only thanks to Jenkins placing herself in front of him that he hadn’t been immediately terminated. She pleaded his case and, grudgingly, they were allowed to enter.

He had been led directly to this room while Howard and Jenkins were taken away for debriefing. He had been alone since then. He couldn’t tell how much time had passed, his sense of time had been taken from him when his life ended. Even so, it seemed like it had been some time since they had left.

He hoped that they hadn’t forgotten about him. That they would return and let him out of this room. More importantly, he hoped that he had been right to trust these people. He could have easily left them behind when the zombies had swarmed him. And yet he hadn’t. It was possibly because he felt closer to the survivors than he did to his undead brethren, but he couldn’t explain why that was so. He continued his slow loop around the room. It might not make his friends return any sooner, but it would at least keep the hunger at bay for now.
After debriefing Howard had gone directly to his quarters, barely acknowledging Jenkins as he made a swift exit. Her eyes questioned him, but she said nothing as he went past. Once there he locked the door behind him and slumped into the chair that sat next to his desk.

Howard looked at his wrist. The makeshift bandage covering his wound was soaked with blood. He carefully peeled it away from his skin to reveal the bite mark underneath. The blood seeped out slowly where the zombie’s teeth had broken the skin. Despite the extent of the wound, it didn’t hurt much.

He knew that this was the end of him. There was no coming back from a zombie bite. He’d seen it time and time again in everyone who had returned from a supply run with the virus running through their veins. Every single person who was bitten turned, without fail. It was just the way it was in this new world. They had all crumbled at the end, allowing their darkest fears to overcome them, to define them in death more than their actions in life.

He resolved to not follow the same path. He would remain strong until the end. Eventually he would have to tell somebody, otherwise he would be putting the whole base at risk. He didn’t want that on his conscience. For now it was too early, he still had a few days left in him and he had a job to do.

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