Zombie Leza - Cover

Zombie Leza

Copyright© 2017 by Vincent Berg

10: Sleeping Like the Dead

Jefferson swatted a branch from his face. He and the other living men trailed Leza, but mainly for protection. Instead of leading her horde, she followed them like she did by her home. The zombies led and appeared to be the only ones aware of where they were going. The men understood they stood a better chance with Leza running interference if they screwed up, so they didn’t wander far, but their curiosity was piqued.

It was early evening, and after marching for hours the dappled sunlight was intermittent making it difficult to determine what they were walking into. Taylor kept bumping into undead and apologizing before realizing the futility of his actions. Luckily for him, they ignored both.

They seemed to be on a mission. The farther afield they went, the faster the zombies moved. For beings who shuffled without focus most of the time, they seemed driven now. The humans realized they’d underestimated the undead for a long time and were only now seeing them for who they truly were. They still weren’t sure everything she claimed was true, but she clearly knew much more than any of them.

They reached a wooded clearing to discover the zombies milling about, ruffling through the fallen leaves and dirt.

“We’re here,” Leza whispered, not wanting to distract her undead by speaking out. “Help me collect some firewood and we’ll build a fire to keep warm.”

“Won’t that frighten your pals?” Phillip asked.

“They’re not animals,” Leza insisted, her hands settling on her hips as she spun on him. “They were human once and remember those activities fondly. They appreciate the warmth of a fire and know not to reach into it, but are uninterested in building fires themselves. They understand their limitations and flames are too hard to control.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it,” Phillip protested. “This is all new to us. We’re still trying to fathom what’s happening.”

The three men spread out giving the zombies a wide berth as they separated from Leza, but their curiosity over their behavior remained. Jefferson was sure several were eating dirt, but he couldn’t wrap his mind around the zombies’ actions. Her earlier explanations were already forgotten given all the new experiences they faced.

It didn’t take long to collect enough dry twigs to build a suitable fire, and the men were happy for Leza’s protection. They felt more comfortable singing to the zombies, as it gave them a sense of control, but it seemed everyone was uninterested in such actions now. Besides, they had no clue what the undead were up to. Jefferson was prepared to build the fire, but Leza never gave him the chance. She knelt, extracted a flint and knife from her pocket, ignited some dried leaves and soon had a fire building. The men pulled some nearby logs for seats, though the zombies seemed unconcerned, sitting instead in the dirt. Many continued rooting around, but others gathered around the fire warming themselves. In the light of the fire, the men observed them eating something, and had mulch and bits of leaves around their mouths. It was then they recalled Leza’s earlier words about the zombies consuming insects. Seeing their curiosity, Leza indicated those around them. “Take a look, they won’t object. They’ll generally allow you to examine what they’re eating. Just don’t put your fingers near their mouths. They’re not always able to differentiate, and to them, you’re all eminently edible.”

The men were unable to resist the offer. Remaining close enough to the fire to see, they moved in different directions, not wanting to overwhelm their undead hosts. True to her word, they didn’t object to their presence, allowing them to kneel beside them and watch them feeding on the worms, slugs and beetles. Satisfied, they returned to the fire.

“As I said earlier, this is how they feed most of the time. They need something in blood, and can get enough from bugs to survive the majority of the time. Over time they build a deficit, so they’re compelled to seek something more substantial. They’re aware of the danger in attacking animals or humans, but the drive to consume sufficient amounts of blood is overwhelming. They’ll risk their lives to get enough to survive.”

“It’s strange talking about the undead struggling to live,” Taylor complained.

“Yet that’s exactly what they do. Just as you do.” Having made her point, she continued her previous topic. “That’s the benefit of feeding those local to your compound. If they get enough blood from periodic feedings, they’ll spend most of their time in the woods not bothering anyone. If ignored, they’ll seek out humans and rip them to shreds. This isn’t a matter of charity; it’s basic survival.”

“Hell, you’ve convinced me!” Phillip crossed himself for effect.

“I’ve witnessed so many unbelievable things this trip, I’ve got no reason to doubt your word. The potentials for success are too great to ignore,” Taylor echoed.

While they talked, a number of zombies wandered over, sitting on the ground and warming their hands by the fire. Phillip was tempted to suggest S’mores, cracking a mysterious smile, but didn’t suggest it.

After a moment of silence, Leza turned to Jefferson, not saying anything, just studying him.

“I’m not denying anything; I’m still taking it in,” he volunteered. “If we can actually accomplish this without something going wrong, I’ve no doubt it will change everyone’s life. However, the potential for disaster is incredibly high. From what you’ve said, all it’ll take is a single false move and we may not even survive the night.”

“You’re correct. The biggest obstacles are losing your own fears and modifying your ingrained behavior so you don’t unintentionally frighten them. Between their reduced pain sensitivity and their lack of common sense, even a zombie child can accomplish horrific damage.”

“I’ve got to admit,” Taylor said, “I’m not looking forward to tonight. I’m terrified I’ll fall asleep despite my fears, let out a snort and end up as your friends’ midnight snack.”

Leza spread her arms, leaning on her thighs as her voice picked up speed. “The greatest issue is learning not to talk when not around humans. The singing helps in more way than one. Not only does it lull them into a calmer state, but it reinforces the need to modulate your voice while reminding you not to startle someone you might not see.”

Jefferson’s voice dropped even lower, the sound stretching across the anxiety hovering between them. “Given what you’ve seen so far, what odds do you give our surviving the night?”

Leza leaned back, biting her lip as she considered the question. “Frankly, I’m not sure. I felt confident in my other attempts, but each time I swore to never try it again. You three seem receptive and have adapted your behavior, but all it takes is one person losing their cool and none of you will escape. I’m not expecting any of you to get a wink of sleep. Minor motions aren’t a problem, but I wouldn’t thrash or get frustrated and go for a walk. My people trust me, so they’ll behave better with me near. The farther you get from me, the greater the risk you’ll face.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Taylor admitted. “I’ve been playing out those same scenarios, imagining everything which could go wrong.”

“That’s another danger,” Leza explained. “The more you think, the greater the risk you face. Thinking leads to panic. Mindlessly focusing on what’s directly in front of you is your best defense.” Realizing the truth of her own words, she stood—slowly. “Let’s get some food. You’ll do better with a full stomach. I suggest you stick with your dry rations, cooking meat is likely to trigger my people’s hunger for blood.”

“What do you eat?” Jefferson asked, unwrapping his supplies.

“I’m not a good example. I could cook a human and serve it to them and they wouldn’t lose control. There’s something about me which allows me to do virtually anything without upsetting them. I’ve never understood it, but it’s given me the time to study and observe what works and what doesn’t. I doubt anyone else could have uncovered what I did. Now, the key is conveying the information or else it’s all for naught. I can control those near me, but even then, I won’t live forever. If I can’t train living humans to duplicate my success, my gains count for nothing. That’s why I keep coming back to these sessions, despite my earlier failures.”

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