into the tree across from us. It collided with a sick thunk, and the Stiff collapsed, its legs giving out underneath it. I had probably injured its spine. It sat with its back against the tree and head tilted back, inching its mouth opened and closed. I tore its fingers off of my hand and tossed away its arm. I turned to see a horde of Stiffs closing in on me, surrounding me in a circle.
I made to break from them before they could trap me, but then I stopped. I gazed back at Morgan’s father. The Stiff was still undead, trying to pick itself up despite the fact that its bottom legs didn’t work. It was clawing at the trunk of the tree behind it trying to rise. I sighed. I couldn’t leave it like that. It had once been alive – alive with thought. Now it was nothing. Like Morgan said, it was like it had been lobotomized. All of its humanity was gone. And no one was going to give it back. I had to do the humane thing. It was funny how killing something could be humane. It was funny that a zombie was standing in the middle of group of hungry Stiffs worrying about being humane. I wasn’t human. Not anymore. I was the living dead. But still there was humanity in me. Beneath the surface of my cold, pale flesh the vestiges of humanity swirled within. They were in all of us, humans, Stiffs, and Wakes. In some more dormant than others. But they were there. I was a zombie, just like this Stiff. But I was human, too, like Morgan. I was both, and neither. Maybe those labels didn’t matter. Maybe all that mattered was doing what was right. Call it humanity. I call it a choice.
I glanced around the ground and finally found a sharp, heavy stone lying in the brush. I picked it up, cupping it in my hands, and turned back to the Stiff. I cried out and lunged at it, thrusting the pointed end of the rock into its skull with a loud crack. I drove it through a second time, this time breaking the skin and some of the skull. I thrust it in once more, piercing the brain. Then I lifted the rock over my head in both hands and brought it down with all my strength, impelling it into the Stiff’s brain, splitting it apart inside the skull.
The Stiff went limp, its arms falling dead at its side. I stood, letting the rock drop and roll away on the ground. Morgan’s father was dead. It was the right thing to do.
I looked at my hands. They were stained in the Stiff’s blood. I spun around. The Stiffs had encompassed me, pressing against each other so there weren’t any gaps in between them. I backed up against the tree, pressing my back flat against it. I was trapped. Their hands reached out for me, a sea of pale, white fingers accompanied by a cacophony of snarls.
I breathed in, preparing for the onslaught.
I threw my hand behind me, digging my fingers into the surface of the tree and spun around the trunk. I jumped and threw my other arm up to break my fingers into the brittle pieces of the bark. Quickly I pulled myself up, scrambling up the tree trunk. The Stiffs besieged the tree, their chests pressing against it with a heavy force and their hands reaching up toward me. I kept climbing until I reached a sturdy branch and managed to crawl out to it. I looked down. Most of the Stiffs had disregarded me once they smelled the blood of Morgan’s father’s corpse. They were crouched around the body, tearing into it and feasting. A few were still reaching out toward the tree. They had probably been veged for a while and didn’t have strong enough senses yet to be drawn to the smell of blood. They were only focused on my movements.
I edged out on the branch, extending my arm against the trunk of the tree to balance myself. The majority of the Stiffs in the area were now drawn to Morgan’s father’s body. They wouldn’t give me a second look. I braced myself, then leaped forward as far as I could. As I reached the ground I tucked myself in and rolled sideways away from the horde. I glanced back. The Stiffs that were still focused on the tree turned their attention to me, but there were only four of them now. They made a mad dash for me. I reached for my backpack which had been thrown away from me when I rolled and, tossing it over my shoulder, made a run for it.
I felt myself suddenly pulled back, and my backpack was torn off and away from me. I managed to link the pack’s handle in the crevice of my arm before it could be pulled away. I stared back and saw one of the Stiffs had both hands clenched around the felt pack. It was snarling and pulling at the pack, snapping its jaws at it. It must have been able to smell the brain morsels inside now that it was so near. The other three Stiffs from the tree began falling on us.
I grabbed the back of the backpack in my hands and pulled it forward, trying to pry it out of the Stiff’s hands. It roared with anger and pulled back with such fury that it tore the backpack in half, shredding the fabric and spilling the contents across the ground. The containers of feed and water broke open and spilled over the ground. Only one case of water stayed closed as it bounced away. The container of chem mix crashed to the ground, snapping open and throwing the morsels out of it. I clenched my eyes shut and swore.
Three of the Stiffs immediately dove on the brain cortexes, digging ravenously in the dirt.
“Perfect,” I grumbled.
The other Stiff that had followed me from the tree continued after me, more drawn to the blood on my hands than the scent of brain pieces. I contemplated fighting the four Stiffs in order to retrieve the brain morsels before they devoured them, but it was hopeless. The chem mix had been dumped from the container anyway. I had no way to preserve them.
Instead, I reached for the container of water that hadn’t been lost and grabbed it. Then I spun around and darted ahead, sprinting through the forest in the direction I had seen Morgan run, leaving the Stiffs in the clearing behind me. I began calling her name in a loud whisper. It wouldn’t take me long to catch up to her.
A few minutes later a figure darted out from the brush across from me. I shoved my forearm into it, knocking it to the ground, and its body slid away from me.
“It’s me!” Morgan gulped.
I hurried up to her. She held her chest where I had struck out at her. “Sorry,” I said.
She swallowed hard, then turned from me and vomited. She looked back at me wearily. “That really hurt.”
“Sorry,” I said again. “Come on. We have to find a clearing. We can’t stop here.”
I drew her to her feet and we dashed through the forest hand in hand. I slowed my steps to match her pace, wishing she were capable of moving faster. She was panting and exhaling loudly. It was almost ten minutes before we found a suitable clearing, and I allowed Morgan to rest on a fallen tree trunk. She threw herself back, leaning on her elbows, and stared up at the black sky, swallowing in gasps of air.
I kneeled beside her, taking the water container I still held and resting it on the tree trunk.
“What happened?” she asked, her voice faint and wispy.
“I lost my backpack,” I replied. “This was all I could save.” I opened the container. “Here, pour some on my hands.”
Morgan sat up slowly. “That’s all the water we have?”
“Yes,” I said. “Hurry.”
She hesitated.
“My hands are covered in Stiff blood. They’ll be on us all night if I don’t get rid of it.”
She relented, cupping her hands into the water container and pouring a handful of water over mine. I rinsed them together, removing as much of the blood from them as I could.
“There’s only half of the container left,” she said.
“That’s all we have,” I said. “How far away do you think we are?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Could be a day. Could be a few days. I don’t know how much ground my brother and I actually covered.”
“Have a drink and then we have to start again. We don’t have time to rest anymore. You’re out of food and so am I.”
Morgan nodded and slurped up a handful of water. When she finished she closed the lid to the container and looked at me. “Did you kill him?”
I looked away from her and nodded. “I disposed of it.”
She nodded silently, then she shook her head, dropping her face into her hands and sobbing lightly. I slowly slid up next to her on the log and placed my hand on her back
. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
The girl suddenly reached out and wrapped her arms around me, hugging me around the waist and burying her head in the rubber of my protective suit. “Why is it like this?” she mumbled into my abdomen. She gazed up at me. “Why does it have to be so horrible?”
I looked down at her, sympathy masking my face. “I didn’t make the rules,” I replied evenly. I stroked her blonde hair, combing my pale hand through it, and let her emote for a few minutes more. I wasn’t used to tears and grief. Zombies can’t cry. Zombies don’t pass away. Maybe that was one of the reasons it was so easy to forget there was humanity in me. The tears and grief showed only within. On the outside there was only death.
Morgan slowly pulled away from me, composing herself. “Thank you.”
I looked away from her. “Come on. We have to keep moving.”
“Zellner,” she said, grabbing the sleeve of my safety gear. “Promise me something.”
“What?” I asked.
“If we don’t make it, and I die ... Promise me you won’t let me become one of those things. Promise me you’ll kill me.”
I gazed toward her, searching her eyes.
“We could have made you a Wake,” I said. “You could have lived forever.”
“Promise me,” she asserted again.
“I promise,” I said.
“Okay,” she said, picking up the container of water and