Zac Zombie: Slayer of the undead, Page 3

attention.

  I left the bathroom and went into my bedroom. The bedroom was drenched in sunlight most of the afternoon and was usually humid at night. I dropped the towel to the floor, put on a pair of boxer shorts and collapsed onto my bed.

  I rolled over onto my back and stared up at the ceiling. It was a nice thought; I was the chosen one.

  Maybe I was special in a way; I mean how many people do you know with purple eyes? And I do not mean purple contact lenses people wear to rave parties.

  I always wanted to be special in some way – not special as in having special needs, but special like being bitten by a radio-active insect and gaining superpowers. That would be cool.

  But if I was special, then it would mean the other crazy stuff James said was true as well. When the dead rise, a slayer will rise and save us? Zombies don’t really exist, do they? People don’t return from the dead, do they? Lazarus and Jesus returned from the dead, but they hardly count as zombies or anything dead and rotting. Those were miracles.

  How would someone return from the dead? One moment they are dead and the next they wake up hungry for flesh? What about people who were buried? Would they claw their way out of their graves or will they be stuck in a casket scratching at the lid for all eternity?

  My phone buzzed on the night stand and I grabbed it. It was a text message from my friend Jim. He wanted me to come over. It was a school night and I doubt that my mother would have approved me going out after seven.

  What the hell? Why not? I could get some perspective from him. I could sneak out through the window like kids do in the movies. I replied to Jim’s message telling him I was on my way.

  I got up, got dressed and sneaked over to the window. I’ve never sneaked out of the house before, but what the hell. You are only young once. I climbed out through the window and as luck would have it, I slipped and fell. There goes my stealth mode.

  Luckily the bushes down below broke my fall. I got up and dusted myself off before sneaking a peek through the living room window. My mother was still glued to the TV. Her favourite show was on. It was something about two vampire brothers lusting after a girl. Yet another show about hundred year old teen vampires wanting to molest a teen girl. I never saw the appeal, but she loved it. A bomb could go off and she would miss the evacuation protocol to watch her show.

  I walked down the street to Jim’s house two houses down. When I knocked on the front door his mother opened looking pleasantly surprised to see me.

  “Zac.” She said with a smile, “What a nice surprise. How have you been?”

  “Great, Mrs Smith.” I said.

  “Jim is down in the basement.” She said.

  She stepped aside and closed the door once I stepped in the house. I walked down the hallway and went down the stairs to the basement.

  Their basement was renovated into a recreational room complete with an entertainment system, dartboard and a pool table. Jim never played darts or pool. He was a gamer like I was.

  He sat in front of the TV with his back to me. He was playing a racing game called Grand Auto Race. It was his favourite game. He could play it hours on end without taking a break for food or nothing. He would sometimes have a jar to pee in when he played – I once knocked it over by accident. What a mess.

  “Hey.” I greeted as I walked over to the sofa.

  I checked the ground for a jar before sitting down.

  “Hey.” Jim said without looking up.

  He was concentrating on his game. Jim was just as socially awkward as I was. His mother home schooled him. She said that the girls at school would corrupt him. He was a skinny boy with blond hair and glasses – thick glasses which magnified his eyes and made him look like a mole. You’d never think we had anything in common by just looking at us. We grew up together and have been friends forever. We had the same taste in music, games and movies, though I was not sure about girls. I am very interested in girls, but he never showed the slightest interest in girls – or boys for that matter. Very peculiar.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  “Nothing.” Jim said.

  He paid more attention to the game than to our conversation.

  “What’s up with you?” Jim asked, “I haven’t seen you in three days.”

  “Nothing much.” I said, “Just school.”

  “Yeah?” Jim asked.

  “There’s a new kid at school.” I said, “I think we became friends or something.”

  “Cool.” Jim said mundane.

  “I went over to his house after school.” I said, “His father is weird. He creeps me out. He kept staring at me.”

  “Yeah?” Jim said, “Maybe he likes young boys.”

  “That’s what I thought at first.” I said, “But then he got all weird on me by telling me I was a slayer of the undead.”

  Jim paused his game and turned to me. This never happens. He never stopped a game before to talk. I was witnessing history in the making. Jim Smith paused a game to talk to me.

  “You’re a what now?” Jim asked.

  “A slayer of the undead.” I said uneasy.

  Jim started laughing and then his laugh flipped over into an asthma cough. He reached for his inhaler and inhaled two puffs before breathing easily again.

  “Like a vampire slayer?” Jim chuckled, “Like that Buffy girl?”

  “I don’t know.” I sighed, “The guy seemed very convinced about what he was talking about.”

  “Don’t tell me you believed him?” Jim asked.

  “No.” I defended myself, “I don’t believe in stuff like that.”

  “Good.” Jim said, “You are already a freak. You will be even more of a freak if you start believing in vampires and stuff.”

  “It was not what he said,” I said, “It was the way he said it. He stared into my eyes completely mesmerized and said my eyes were the sign that I was chosen.”

  Jim nodded approvingly and said, “You have beautiful eyes, dude.”

  Jim stared into my eyes as if losing himself in them for a moment.

  “Anyway,” I continued, “You should have seen him. It was the strangest thing.

  “Grownups are weird.” Jim said, “That’s why I don’t want to grow up.”

  Jim handed me a second controller and then unpaused the game. The words player 2 has entered flashed onto the screen and then I joined Jim in the race.

  “What if he was for real?” I asked.

  “That would be cool.” Jim said

  “What if zombies were real too?” I asked.

  “That would be cool to an extent.” Jim said.

  I stared at him as he continued gaming and then I continued gaming as well.

  We played the video game for about an hour before I realised what time it was. I had to get home. My mother’s back to back episodes of the vampire brothers would end any minute and she might come looking for me.

  So I said my goodbye and left Jim to play the game on his own.

  The neighbourhood was quiet on the walk back and the full moon was kind of romantic – if only I had a girlfriend to share the walk with, but that is life. And to make things worse, I saw a couple making out under a tree. Why can’t they do that up in their room? Why advertise their love for the world to see?

  And then without warning, the girl’s head fell off. What the hell? I stopped and watched as her head rolled into some nearby bushes. I glanced up at the guy. He was never kissing her. It actually seemed like he was eating her.

  I stood dumbfounded by the sight. My jaw was open. I could not believe what I was seeing. The guy was munching on the girl’s body he clung to. I suddenly coughed as something – probably a moth – flew into my open mouth. When I regained myself I saw that the guy was looking back over his shoulder at me. His face was covered in blood and flesh hung from his teeth. He was clearly disturbed or something. Perhaps he had a food deficiency of some sort?

  He growled, dropped the headless body and turned towards me. Oh crap. I have to watch my step with t
his guy. He is clearly insane; I mean who eats his girlfriend?

  “I don’t want any trouble.” I said.

  I held up both my hands cautioning him to stay back, but he kept walking towards me and grunting. Why was he making these sounds? His eyes were black and his skin was pale – he was clearly coming down with a nasty case of something.

  “What do you want?” I asked concerned.

  The guy kept walking towards me as I took a few steps back.

  “I’m not into guys.” I warned him, “And I can defend myself.”

  That was a lie. I have never been in a fight. I think the only confrontation I ever got were in my games. I was not even sure I would know how to defend myself in real life.

  The guy growled and chewed on the flesh in his teeth – what a lovely sight. I knew this was not going so well. The guy suddenly sprinted towards me. Instinctively I balled my hand up into a fist and slammed it against the side of his face as he came into range. I do not know how hard I hit him, but his jaw unhinged and tore clean off.

  What the hell? What just happened? I looked at my bloody fist for a second. Where did that strength come from? I looked up at the guy. He turned to face me again. With his lower jaw missing his tongue dangled out of the gaping hole, gurgling when he grunted again.

  “Seriously, dude.” I warned him, “Stay back.”

  He did not heed my warning and took another step towards me. What was his problem? Why was he not howling in pain? I know I would have if my jaw was missing.

  The guy reached out his hands towards me, clawing in the air as he jumped at me. Without thinking I swung my fist at him and it smashed right through his skull. His hands dropped to his sides. Dumbfounded I stared at my fist still inside his head. He hung from my fist like a coat on a hook. What did I just do? I killed someone without thinking about it – without any effort. What was happening to me?

  I pulled my fist free from his skull. There was only a gaping wound where the guy’s eyes used to be. His body collapsed to the ground. I lifted my fist and examined it. Where did I get the strength to do such a thing? It made no sense and was scaring the hell out of me. Was I a born killer?

  I gasped when I realized that I just killed a man in full view of anyone who bothered to look out their window. I looked at the houses around me, hoping that nobody saw what I did. The houses were quiet and curtains were drawn. Nobody seemed to have noticed a growling man being killed by a teenager out in the street. I wiped my hands on my shirt. What should I do? Should I call the police? How would I explain this to the police? They will think I am insane and lock me up.

  I still don’t know what I was thinking at that moment, but for some reason I decided to drag the two bodies into the bushes. I’d let whoever find them call the police. I checked the windows of the houses around me again as I backed away from the bushes. When I was sure nobody saw me I ran back home.

  4

  I could not sleep that night. I kept tossing and turning. The images of what happened – of what I did – kept playing in my mind over and over. I killed someone. It was justified since he killed his girlfriend, but still. I, Zac Williams killed someone with my bare hands.

  What bothered me was how the guy killed his girlfriend. Why would he be eating her? It was the most macabre thing I had ever seen. What kind of demented person eats another person? I’ll tell you what kind of person does that – a zombie. Like in the movies. I can’t believe it, but I think Richard’s dad might not have been crazy after all. Did zombies actually exist? Whatever I saw the night before sure as hell seemed to be one.

  Before school I decided to go to Richard’s house. I needed to talk to his dad. I needed answers and his crazy father seemed to know a lot more than he was telling me.

  When I opened our front door, I saw that the police cordoned off the street at the house across from our neighbours. Oh crap. That meant someone found the bodies. I stood for a moment watching as the coroner loaded two body bags into the van. Detectives were