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I mean, yeah. Of course. But after a while, you kind of just got a little jaded to it all.
Survival was weird like that.
A base, primal instinct.
I spent hours and hours reinforcing the lower level of my apartment building so the zombies couldn’t get in. I lucked out having a brick building. Once the windows were properly secured and the lower part of the fire escape broken, there wasn’t any way for them to get in.
So in was where I generally stayed.
See, not only did I have my pandemic supplies, but my apartment was above an Italian restaurant.
I’d been living on pasta, waxed cheese, and rolls for a long, long time.
Oh.
And red wine.
We couldn’t forget the red wine.
It helped me fall asleep even with the sounds of grumbling and munching of the zombies and screaming of the people who got in their way.
They were noisy-ass eaters.
So I could only imagine that my ex-boyfriend, who’d been an annoying chomper when he was human, was probably especially loud as a zombie.
Not that he’d get a chance to do much eating.
What with my cutting his head off and all.
He wouldn’t be my first kill.
Judging by the tally I’d been keeping on my apartment door, I was up to twenty-four of the bloody, tattered, brainless abominations.
Most of them were from necessity.
Especially when I’d been securing my home, and had needed to venture outside.
It had been surprisingly easy.
See, I’d been worried that I didn’t have killing in me.
The thing was, the zombie virus had turned humans into something decidedly un-human. They moved strangely, sounded odd, and were actively decaying.
It didn’t feel like murder.
Hell, it wasn’t even like killing an animal—something I was sure I’d never be capable of, no matter how hungry I got.
It was almost like a game, a sport.
Admittedly, I’d never been any good at those in the past. But it turned out that all the reinforcing of my house had built up some nice muscles, so when I’d swung my first weapon, I’d knocked off an arm. Then a leg. And once I grabbed something bigger, the beheading was pretty easy.
And much like that old saying about virginity, once you started, you just couldn’t stop.
Each time it got easier.
To the point where it was actually kind of fun.
But no kill would be anywhere near as satisfying as this one.
