Wake Up Dead - an Undead Anthology (15 page)

"But that natural habitat used to be peoples' homes," I point out. Walters just shrugs and smiles. "Sacrifices sometimes have to be made to do something important, and I think the study of a new species, and preventing the further death of our loved ones, are noble causes."

Three days later, I had the chance to meet with Jim Colton, one of the most vocal anti-zombie proponents. Colton's military expertise was called upon frequently during the early outbreaks. Despite the pro-zombie legislation of the past few years, he continues to develop new and more effective methods of killing zombies. He is based near Houston, Texas, which along with the rest of the state remains a zombie-free zone.

"Damn hippies," Colton mutters as he fires one of his personally modified handguns at a target on the other side of the lawn. "Those creatures aren't anything to us anymore but a threat. I don't care what Mister Doctor Idiot says, they are not like anything. They are adverse to nature and are simply a threat to all of us with no purpose for anything; a plague. They should be put down, all of them." He fires another shot, as if putting a period on his statement.

I pointed out Walters' primary point about the proof that these zombies are the reanimated bodies of our loved ones. Colton snorts. "That's just the damn point," he mutters as he reloads. "The reanimated bodies of these people; they're just the bodies. They don't have the souls in there; just a damned hunger." He holds up a bullet to show me. "Fifty caliber hollow point," he says. "The key is always to hit the head. You have to destroy brain tissue to put the thing down." He sighs, taking sight again. "At least the law hasn't moved into our properties and we can still kill them if they come after us. I think they should make those containment areas into hunting fields, but the bleeding hearts got their claws in the law-makers over the wandering corpses and we're kept out of those 'preserves'... 'preserve' my ass. It's a disaster waiting to happen, again."

After several more rounds, we walk into the house of the massive, sprawling compound that Colton and a large group of like-minded people have built. It's as much a fortress as a home, with cement walls surrounding the property and only a single entrance, which is barred by tall steel fences. A defensible guard house sits right outside the gates, which requires an 'infection inspection' of all incoming guests.

This hundred acre compound is also working farm and produces almost all of the residents' food and the water comes from several wells on the property, which is treated on site before consumption.

"To look at this the way Walters does," Colton goes on, "is to be very short sighted about it all. Yes, I know that it's been proven about these being the reanimated bodies of people we once knew, but that's all they are and they won't stay in these... containment areas forever. These creatures are mindless and soulless. They have only one thing in mind and that's to feed. Most wild animals that you can cage the way Walters cages these zombies have drives other than to eat: they want to live, they play, they sleep, they breed. If you electrify a fence, they'll stay away from it. That's not the case with zombies. They'll shamble into it over and over, or just plain stick to it, like a fly on fly paper... getting zapped like bugs on a bug zapper, but they don't care, and they do nothing but wander and eat. There's just not anything there any more."

I ask him about the idea of scientific value of zombie study. His snort is derisive. "I don't get that, I really don't. To what end? The only sort of research should be about how to kill them and find a better way to protect ourselves! Is this Walters researching anything about the outbreak itself, or how to keep it from happening again? The day will come when these zombies break out and everyone like Walters, who hasn't really protected himself, is going to end up inside his own damn research. You can count on that." He pauses. "Think about it. Damn near half of this country is now made up of containment zones; half of the country!" Pausing, he shakes his head. When I point out that the containment areas have worked so far and we've seen no new break outs since early 2020, he snorts again. "It won't last. It can't possibly."

He looks out the window. "I wonder if those two pilots coming into LAX hadn't been such damn cowards and had told the ground, let themselves be shot down and the zombies inside incinerated, if we could have avoided all of this."

Ten years later and the country is strictly divided into two extremes. Half the country remains firmly with Colton's opinion and is passionately against the control ZAPT has over the new congress in Maryland (following the outbreak on the Senate floor in 2014). They maintain their defenses by any means they have. Meanwhile, the other half gives in to what Colton calls "ignorant sentimentality" and what Walters calls "enlightened compassion" and align with ZAPT.

With Mexico over-run and Canada having closed its borders to us because of the pro-zombie legislation, we remain on our own. Whether the country will ever unite under one line of thought will only be seen in time. For now, the United States seems to be maintaining the status quo and allowing at least half of its people to recover, although no one can still conclusively state the source of the illness or poison that started and perpetuates the zombie affliction. Walters' book does not address this, instead focusing on ways to live with zombies today, rather than be tied to the past. Neither side seems ready to bend on their opinions of zombies, or of each other. It seems that only time will tell what will come of the next ten years.

"One thing you may not have thought of," Colton points out towards the end of our interview and of my tour, "is the number of zombies in these containment areas. If you read the reports that come out of the scientific groups that work with Walters but not
for
him, the few that there are, you will see some interesting things." At my uncertain look, he smirks. "Yes, I read the reports and I read that book of his, and I notice things. You know where zombies come from. So how do you think Walters keeps his zombie numbers so high - even going up at times, or at least not going down from their cannibalism? Think about that."

Lynn Morris
has been writing for New World magazine since 2017, when the television station she worked at became part of the New York City containment area.

FLORENCE'S DIARY

Adam Millard

Today was a good day. I went to the end of the farm for the very first time, which was really nice as Robbie chased me. He's a good dog, and my best friend in the whole world. I think he enjoyed it almost as much as I did. I had no idea that there were cherry-trees at the bottom, by the old shed. I ate one. It was tasty; not too sweet, but not bitter either. I might take a basket tomorrow and gather some more. I don't think Daddy will mind.

After playing at the bottom of the farm, Mommy took me into town. We went to Old Sam's for some bread, and then Mommy said she needed to get Daddy a present for his birthday, which is in six days time. I waited outside the store where she bought Daddy's present from. “It's for grown-ups only,' she told me out on the street. “I'll be a few minutes. Don't go off wand'ring.”

I didn't. I stood outside like a good girl, watching the horses go by. I love to watch the horses. Daddy says that when I'm a little bit bigger he'll teach me how to ride one. I can't wait until I'm a bit bigger. I will have my own horse, and my own shop where I'll sell sweets. I'm going to call it Florence's Fancies. I think that is a really good name for a shop.

When Mommy came out of the shop, she was carrying Daddy's present, but it was already wrapped in paper so I couldn't see what it was. When I asked her, she told me that it was something that Daddy had wanted for a very long time. I wonder if it's a new shovel.

For tea today I had chicken stew and the bread that we got from Old Sam's. It was really nice. I hope there is some bread left over for tomorrow. Well, that is all I need to write today. I'm going to bed now. Robbie looks sleepy, too.

Goodnight.

Daddy is taking me to work today. He told me to be on my best behaviour because Mr McGregor will be watching him, although I don't know why. Maybe Mr McGregor is going to give Daddy a pay-rise. I hope so; we could have fresh bread every night. I am wearing my old clothes today because Daddy told me that it gets really dirty down at the mineshaft. I can't wait; I love to get dirty.

Oh, I have to go now. Daddy is calling me. Be back later.

*

Had a great day with Daddy at the mine today. Mr McGregor was watching my Daddy again. I am almost certain that he will get more money soon. When we got home, Mommy had made a cake. The kitchen smelled beautiful. I love that smell. For dinner we had beef and potatoes, and some of the cake. I am so full I think I'm going to explode.

Mommy says that if I am a good girl tomorrow, she will take me and Robbie to the fair. It's only on for two more days, so I had better behave myself. If we go to the fair, I want to win a goldfish. I will love him, but not as much as Robbie.

I'm going to sleep now. My eyes keep closing.

Goodnight.

Guess what? I was really good this morning so I got to go to the fair, just like Mommy promised. It was amazing. I won a dolly on the hook-a-duck, but I didn't get a goldfish. It's a good job really. Robbie would have got really jealous.

I had some cotton-candy, which was pink, and it tasted really nice. Mommy only let me have a little bit, though. She said, “If you eat all of that you'll be up all night.” I won't be up all night, will I? I would be too tired. After eating some of the cotton-candy, Mommy took me on the Dark Ride. It was really scary. Robbie was really lucky that he wasn't allowed on; it would have scared him too. We tied him to a tree while we went on the ride; he looked really disappointed. Poor Robbie.

There were lots of shows on at the fair. Even Sheriff Colman was there with his wife, and they were both on horses. I want a horse so much now. It will be the best present ever. The Sheriff's wife is beautiful. She has long red hair, all the way down her back, and when she smiles she looks like a princess. When I am older, I want to marry a Sheriff. I am only nine and a half at the moment, though, so I have to wait a little bit longer before I am allowed to get married. Daddy says that it will be over his dead body; I'm not sure what that means.

While we were at the fair, a man bit another man on the shoulder. I couldn't believe it. I've never seen anything like it. It happened right next to the freak show tent – which I thought was funny but Mommy said was disgusting. The man was just walking past when the other man jumped on his back and bit him. I think he must have been angry for some reason; maybe he owed the man some money. Daddy says that if he did, he was lucky to get away with a bite.

After that, we came home. I played with Robbie at the bottom of the farm for a while. He seems happy; glad he isn't too upset with me for tying him to that tree.

For tea we had vegetable soup. It was nice, but a bit runny. Mommy said it was meant to be like that, but Daddy said he pisses thicker.

I'm in bed writing this, and I can hear Mommy and Daddy talking about the man who got bit at the fair. I'm going to sleep now. It's been a really good day.