104Every molecule of my being hungers. This hunger has gotten more and more uncontrollable ever since I died. Eating flesh seems to sate it, but it comes back ever stronger.
What is it that I hunger for?
Flesh?
Brains?
... Life?
This question always enters my head when I hunt alone.
I drag myself through these streets in the vague hope that one time I won't have to kill; but I'm just so hungry.
After an hour or so, I finally sense something: the smell of life.
It is so potent that I'm already dragging myself faster along, black blood dripping from my mouth.
I stop myself though. There are too many of them. If they're armed I would be shot down to a full-dead.
I shuffle along again, my hunger even stronger now.
In the distance I can see the sunset; I've been searching for hours.
Walking along the pavement I see one of the Dead in a car. He must have converted in there and can't get out. If I help him out, it may show that I have some semblance of humanity and I'll become human and the world will magically return to normal.
Or I'll just stay the same.
I walk slowly towards the car, making sure not to startle it.
As I approach, I notice that it's staring at its knees which I can't see because of the car door.
It can't see me as I'm coming from an angle behind it and when I get close enough, I can see what it's doing.
It's writing.
He's writing.
He's alive.
How can I not smell him?
I see that his red dress shirt and blue jeans are covered in the black blood of the dead.
He's smart.
The way the pen in his hand glides over the paper makes the back of my head tingle.
I stare at it, the scribbles like blurry lines just out of focus.
I take another step forward and put my hand on the glass; I try to understand the symbols on the page but they slip through my conscious grasp and fade to nothing.
I eventually notice that the hand has stopped writing.
My eyes follow from his fingers to his wrist, up his bare arm to his elbow, up his clothed arm to his face.
Brown eyes stare at me; he doesn't look scared, he looks... amazed.
His facial features are sort-of blurred to me; another downside of being dead. Only the main things about him stick out: his clothes, his brown eyes and his short black hair.
He looks down at his little book then back at me and lifts it to the window.
I stare at it, my brows furrowing as I try to understand the swirling collections of ink on the page.
I give up and look defeated; he puts the book down still staring at me and rolls down the window a crack.
He hesitates before whispering.
"Can you understand me?"
I nod slowly.
His eyes widen and he faces forward; his breathing rate increases.
I stand and wait for him to calm down.
He looks back at me, his eyes wide in shock.
"Can you speak?" he whispers even quieter that before.
"A... little." I wheeze.
His head rocks back and he stares at the ceiling of the car, his breathing hitched.
What's causing this reaction? Am I so different from other zombies?
His breathing slows down and he looks back at me.
"... If I open the door, will you attack me?"
I think for a moment.
My hunger has subsided, probably because this has distracted me.
Also I wouldn't waste this chance to speak to a living person who's not scared.
"No." I reply.
"Cross your heart..." he mutters under his breath as he puts his book into a backpack, almost talking to himself.
"No." I say.
He looks at me again.
I lift my hand and make a cross motion on my forehead.
A small smile plays upon his lips.
"Cross your brain?" he asks suppressing a chuckle.
I nod.
He closes his eyes for a moment before opening the door slowly.
I take a few steps back so the door can fully open.
He slides out carefully holding his backpack, watching my every move.
When he stands up straight, I can see that he's around the same height as me.
He closes the door and we both stand watching each other.
The dusty breeze reminds me how lonely the landscape is.
"... Name?" I grumble.
He gives me another incredulous look.
"You really are something." he replies. "My name is Matthew. Do you have a name?"
"R."
A/N
Thank you for all the positive reviews so far!
Reply to Mary Ann's Review:
The petrol/gas thing never even crossed my mind, I'm an idiot, lol.
And the Dad/Father thing was intentional. I was trying to show that he was unsure whether to write formally or not.
But yeah, thanks again for all the positive feedback!
I'd love to hear what you all think of this chapter.
Shall update soon.
Hope you enjoy. :)