With any luck, by the time my story has come to a close - both here and otherwise - the zombie crisis will have, pardon the pun, died down; civilization starting to put itself back together again. If so, and civilization is still in the early stages of restructure, I offer this piece of advice: do not forget the sky.
Prior to the Day Everything Changed, society and civilization had been in full upswing. Technology was at the height of its time, and the only direction man could truly go was up. Unfortunately, man took the sky for granted and invaded its territory: buildings were erected to touch the clouds and breach them, machines of flight were created to traverse the infinite expanses, and lights were turned so bright it blinded the view of an otherwise clear night.
One thing that never seemed to be mentioned, at least in my experience with stories of zombie revolutions, was that despite the chaos and confusion on the literal ground level of things, the sky had been able to transform back to its original, peaceful state. Without man's interference, the sky reclaimed its identity and became wonderful again; its stars brightly visible, providing their own, oddly-tinted light that was enough and more for two men to travel by.
Especially on a clear night like this one.
I had been lost in my own thoughts, staring at the myriad of bright points above me when I heard the weird noise from behind. My train of thought broken, I turned quickly to find the source - and found nothing.
Turning back around, it looked as though I'd been the only one to have heard it: Singer, a couple steps ahead of me now, was peering into the window of a broken-down four-door sedan. There wasn't anybody inside, and there was no point in trying to use the vehicle for transportation - the entire city block was congested with abandoned vehicles both in front and behind the sedan. That didn't mean, however, that the previous owners hadn't left behind anything useful in their haste to get the hell out of dodge; again, excuse the vehicular pun.
He seemed enrapt in something in the backseat of the sedan, and set to working his way to get it. I didn't offer my assistance; at this point, if he'd needed it, he would have asked for it. As it was, he took it upon himself to grab his trusty crossbow from his back and proceed to pound on the window with the butt of the weapon. Somehow, he managed to make as little noise as possible, so as not to attract any unwanted, undead attention.
I kept a loose watch on the area as he broke into the car. My mind went back to the noise I'd heard, and what could have possibly made it. Not a zombie: a noise that prominent, I'd be shooting it down, so to speak, instead of simply standing there, ruminating.
And after Singer's story about his daughter's death, I had become slightly paranoid about being tailed by creatures much worse than zombies: blood-thirsty survivors. It wasn't enough to just survive; as dire as things had become, the living went for a more dog-eat-dog mentality in order to avoid the man-eat-man alternative. If we were being followed by such people, then-
"So, what's with the bracelet?" Singer's voice broke through the thin line of thoughts into which I'd ventured.
I blinked, turning toward him, and found him making his way in my direction, stuffing whatever he'd procured from the sedan into his tattered shoulder bag. Even though I didn't see what it was, he hastened his stuffing when he saw me looking directly at him. It was no concern of mine, truth be told, what it was he had picked up - at this point, he could have taken me out with a single, clean shot from his crossbow, if it had come down to it. Aside from that, anything else he was carrying was of little to no concern to me.
"Say again?" I said, once he had come close enough to safely hold a conversation without being too loud about it.
Singer lifted his chin to point in the direction of my hand. "Ever since we dispatched the good, decaying doctor, you've been... fiddling with that bracelet," he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "And, if I can be blunt with you: it clashes with the rest of the image you seem to be going for."
He was right, of course; while what I was wearing was primarily black and uber-masculine in appearance, the pink and yellow charm bracelet on my left wrist seemed as if it had lost its way and just decided to simply stick around, regardless.
I lowered my right hand from the wrist and lifted it to uncomfortably scratch the back of my neck. "Ah," I muttered, clearing my throat a little before saying, "it's kind of a long, silly story.
"And," I continued as I looked at the dark, starlit sky, "this is hardly the time to really get into it, 'ya know?"
Even though he looked like he objected to my evasion, after a moment he nodded firmly and said, "Fair enough. Shall we, then?"
I nodded my thanks, and we continued to make our way down the block. No sooner had we done so than I heard the weird noise again; and, just as before, when I turned to find its source, I couldn't find anything in the dim light to solve this particular mystery.
"Did you hear that?" I asked while my back was still turned.
Had I waited a second before asking if he'd heard the weird noise, I would have heard the "oof!" he let out as he was being knocked out.
Had I turned around instead of asking if he'd heard the weird noise, I would have seen the man being knocked out.
Instead, I asked the question, and before turning back around I started moving toward Singer; at the time, I thought it was a smart idea - a chance to possibly find the source of the weird noise, and put the mystery to rest. So when my foot collided with the leg of an unconscious Singer, I finally turned around, and found myself falling and becoming intimate with the pavement. Landing on my stomach, the wind was knocked out of me. I closed my eyes, breathed slowly and waited for the pain to subside.
That's when I heard the growling next to my head.
My eyes shot open, and I looked up quickly - to find myself looking squarely down the sharpened blade of a large machete.
"Well," I croaked. "This is new."
