Evening peeps, I hope you’re ready for another batch of zombie fiction! The pace has slowed down a little this week, it’s all about character building, much like last week. We’re building up to the end of this first run of stories in a couple of weeks, after which I, Zombie will be taking a little break so I can try out a few different story types. Now, without further ado, here is this week’s story…
Jenkins had been left to her own devices, and it was driving her mad. As scary as it had been outside, it was a far sight better than staring at the same four walls day in and day out. She had wanted to go visit Pops, but her commander had forbidden it immediately. Until further notice the subject was off limits to all non-essential personnel, and that included her.
So she had returned to her quarters, with no idea what she was going to do when she got there. She could read a book, although she had already read through all twelve books she kept in her mini library, and more than once. She’d been looking for new reading material for some time, but her work had kept her too busy to really focus on the search. The next trip out, she promised herself. That is, if there was a next trip.
Her thoughts turned to Howard. His reaction after the briefing had worried her. He was hiding something. Whatever it was, she hoped that if he couldn’t tell her then it would at least be something they could put behind them and forget about. He had been the closest to a friend or a family member she had found since the end of the world.
Until Pops. It was an odd situation to be in. At no point until now had the dead given any indication that they were anything more than reanimated corpses. But he was different. He knew exactly what he was. What’s more, he had managed to save both Howard and herself from the zombie crowd.
The situation with the crowd had been unnerving. She had never seen as many undead up close and in person until that point. They had always been in ones or twos, or no more than half a dozen. But in that street? There had been hundreds of them. Jenkins had no idea how Pops had been able to do it, but she would be grateful to him for the rest of her life.
She just hoped that the higher ups would recognise what a find Pops was, that he could be the key to working out what caused the outbreak. Or even a cure. That seemed possible. She was no scientist of course, but the discovery had given her hope for the future of humanity. If Pops was different, then there could be others out there. The more of them that retained some of what had made them human, the greater the chances of finding a resolution.
A noise in the corridor distracted her from her thoughts, a scratching sound as if rats were trying to claw their way inside. As she looked towards it a note was slipped underneath and into the room. She climbed off her bunk and picked up the folded paper. She opened the door and looked into the corridor but wasn’t surprised to see it empty. She returned into her room and closed the door behind her.
Opening the note she read the first few words. She didn’t stop to read the rest. Instead she threw the door open once again and sprinted out into the corridor. She had to warn Howard.