I am Bexley the Bloodletter’s Scourge

Bexley’s interlude: Missing Shadows

Early spring, 2072

Once upon a time, I had written my story down for you to read. Once, I had admitted that I had anger and fear, red-hot anger surging inside of me. This was something I thought zombies should not feel. To have a problem, any sort of problem, big or small, was not how we, as zombies, did things. I felt an anger for the humans, who were trapped in caves and bunkers as we zombies had homes above the dirt. They spoke with a timid tone as we watched in our high and mighty reflection, our sign language ruling over the cries of the so-called lower human class. Zombies could not speak, only using some form of American Sign Language to communicate their will.

I remember I had once asked you what you’d want to hear during a zombie apocalypse. After the war was over as a human, being confronted with the ‘end,’ so to speak, what would comfort you?

Sometimes, I think I know the answers, other times, I fall flat on my face. Usually, it’s literal as my body moves on its own and I can’t control it. Other times, I feel as though nothing I could say would assuage such a terrible thing as living in your private brand of hell. In case you aren’t caught up, zombies have ruled over humans for over fifty years since that bloody time when humans and zombies were fighting. Zombies have a system where they rule and humans stay underground, in bunkers or in caves. They cannot use weapons. They cannot be out in the open. Zombie elite are rich zombies in guarded territory and mansions.

Months have passed between the time of the battles and raids with the humans, zombies, and the Bloodletters. Bloodletters were the first bred type of zombie. A biochemical engineer who was lonely made them. He destroyed himself by trying to keep the one he loved close by.

Mainly, Warren, the engineer in question, created Bloodletters to overthrow the zombie elites and take over for the humans and rule. He was the first Bloodletter. These raids had destroyed much of Zombietown. My childhood home was one of them.

The fifty-year war between zombies and humans has only just begun, and it’s time to settle the score and try to gain trust again. Right now. The zombies make the rules, and the humans live in caves and bunkers. Bloodletters don’t even have that. They are nomads, and they scour the earth, restless, hungry, and desolate. They are the ones that even the battle ground and make both zombies and humans suffer and run from fear. The fighting has since escalated in small pockets of zombie communities and human caves, or so I’ve heard from conversations I’ve overheard.

“They’ve been tried to take up residence in some of the more elite areas. It’s crazy how many ‘Letters are coming out of the woodwork, bolder than ever!” Annya had said to another staff member.

The idea of Bloodletters taking over any zombie home seemed so strange to me.

“Ohh! Rumors like that can go on somewhere! They aren’t that organized…” the other staff member scoffed.

Annya, someone I knew from helping me with the gardens, only spat out, “They’re all animal enough to go kill-crazy and wipe them out without hesitation.”

I didn’t chime in. Even my friends and family have been telling each other about the dangers of going back out of the safety of Jack’s medical laboratory. If it’s a sort of genocide of the zombie race, it would definitely have to be as serious as when they had set those immense fires, wiping out entire blocks of zombie communities in quick and furious fashion. This looked to me like Bloodletters usurping zombie territory and pushing their status to something other than monster.

‘Maybe they aren’t organized,’ I reasoned as I heard them in the kitchen, ‘but desperate and hungry enough to dig themselves out of the hole society placed them in.’ I learned that we all shared sadness and fear too, humans and Bloodletters and zombies. During the most intense part of my grief, I learned a valuable lesson. A lesson on anger and sadness. These two should never mix as they can be deadly…

So, I’ll ask you again, what would you need to hear during the most important, unexpected journey of your life, undead or otherwise? The most beautiful, deadly, dark pain ripping through your very core, the grief and agony of loss?

Is it you aren’t alone in this? A whisper of a soft reassuring, loving voice telling you they’ll help you get through it?

It’s hard because it’s taken me so long to even understand my true self, my identity, my feelings, and my life.

My name is Bexley, and I’m a zombie woman who has a mixed family of humans, zombies, and a Bloodletter family of all backgrounds, colors, shapes, and sizes. We all currently live in a massive, perfectly white research and medical facility run by my best friend Asher’s uncle Jack. One of his oldest and closest companions and colleagues solely funded Jack’s research. It was a human named Warren who turned himself into the first Bloodletter.

The one who created all the Bloodletters. Jack (who is my good friend Asher’s uncle), in defense of me, had to kill his best friend, Warren. He needed me for the most important part of his research and was going to excavate my brain.

Unfortunately for him, I needed my brain, even if it was undead.

So, I’m also an artist. Not just a zombie. We try not to just label ourselves based on what our species is or what they made us into.

I made “Light in Caves,” which is ten pieces from the point of view of several humans I know that have lived in caves. They give me their memory of how shadow and light bounce off cave surfaces and stay warm and safe inside the crevices of a cave, and I paint it. Ben gave me so many stories, and so did Serena, who had lived in caves for most of her childhood until she moved to the baseball diamond in Saint Louis. Serena was a human woman who was dating a zombie woman named Clara. There were some things that were strictly forbidden, such as zombies and humans dating, as well as being in same-sex relationships. This was because of the belief that it couldn’t lead to procreation and the declining human population. I found this idea to be outdated.

Jonas, a young human boy, and his brother Jacob often come up and watch me paint and talk to me. Zombies can’t talk the way humans do. Not usually anyway. Most zombies and Bloodletters have to use American Sign Language, with modified versions for cultures and classes. I can talk out loud… sometimes. But not usually.

“How do you know what a shadow is if you’re dead?” Jacob would ask me, making his brother glare at him. “Do zombies have shadows?”

“That’s too rude! Your cheeky mouth would disappoint Mom!” Jonas scolded him. I giggled, patting their heads gently.

“Bhavna is your mom?” I signed to them. “Your second mom? The zombie version of your mom?”

They both nodded.

“But she’s just like one of our moms. We don’t call her ‘zombie mom,’…” Jonas sarcastically quipped, rolling his eyes. I nodded with a laugh. I turn my head at an unnatural angle, feeling my weight topple over, making me trip a bit. “Our mom that gave birth to us isn’t here. She passed away. She didn’t turn.”

“Yes. Sometimes we lose what’s dearest to us and they can’t come back to life,” I signed sadly. “I lost my loving parents in a terrible fire. You act so stuffy and caring, like you are your brother’s parent. It’s okay if he asks me these things, even if I don’t have all the answers.” I signed to them. They looked at me quizzically.

“All adults know the answers to everything!” Jacob sternly argued.

“They may know, but they don’t always tell us…” Jonas whispered, and I try to emulate the sound of a sharp human exhale to get their attention, yelling, “Hey!”

They look at me closely, and I signed enthusiastically, “I read in a book that you can lose your shadow if you’re magical. That if it gets lost, you simply need to find it again…”

They give me unconvinced stares, but the younger one, Jacob, was holding back a grin.

“What’s the book, lady?” Jacob asked with wide eyes.

“I’ll show you in the library. It had a tiny fairy that is jealous and cute and boys who live in a land that makes them never grow up!” I signed with an urgency. I could tell the story intrigued them.

“So, when will you find your shadow?” Jonas asked me, helping me mix the paints, and I thanked him.

“When my shadow wants to be found,” I simply signed to them. Both of them exuberantly watch me paint again in silence, and I let them help me color in some shades. Later, their mom comes in to say hello and takes them off to bed. The boys are human and need sleep. I enjoy the company of the boys when they watch me paint.

Stan, my husband, watches me paint too. Though I fear his vision isn’t quite the same anymore. He signs to me that light and darkness are not the same to him anymore either, or pictures of the past are a hazy representation of something he once knew. Now, the gifts of the future seem so strangely bright. He signed to me the other day. One of those gifts is the fact that I can still paint and keep my memory as well as I did a year ago. Well, I think I do anyway.

I wasn’t always a zombie. My parents had me as humans, and they slowly turned into zombies, as she was pregnant with me. I was born a baby human… eventually; the sickness made me turn as well. When I was nineteen, I met Stan. We fell madly in love, and the rest was history, so they say. Unfortunately, an impulsive kiss from Stan that he gave me was what turned him.

The list of things I fear is many. My god-daughter Shadow, who is a zombie, is trying to process her own memories.

I dance with her now in the Recreation room, and though she can’t laugh, I see in her light green eyes a smile that is so beautiful. I carry her in my arms, and we float along the chief points in the composition, as though we are flying, and I dip her down, and her nose crinkles as I hug her close.

We listen to classical music that sounds like a dream. She explains to me her dreams after we stop dancing.

“My brain is like layers of the sea, and down below, in the deepest, darkest part… Is where I think all my genuine memories are,” she signs to me with a frown. “Both of my dads keep trying to make new ones, happy ones. Memories that stick.”

I wrap my arm around her compact frame, and she looks at me sadly. “That’s how it was with my memories. I had so many questions about my life before I met Stan. I had tucked away my entire childhood. It was as if my brain was settling into an altered state of undead,” I sign trying my best to explain, and she nodded enthusiastically.

“Some people can help you reach your old memories. And even if you can’t, you remember the new ones like a firecracker…” I continue to explain, and she signed to me, “Like when dad sleeps and my other dad stays up. He understands as he is like me. The memory comes back in a jolt. My head is pounding and booming like an explosion, and I feel heavy colors. I can hear them too, but it’s all blurry.”

I bit my lip and almost cut the skin in half, but not having nerve endings is difficult. As a zombie, you can’t feel the pain, so you have to stop, or you could chew part of your body off if you aren’t careful!

“Yes, your godfather could hear colors once when I sang to him, to help him wake up from his catatonic state.” I sign, and she frowns. “I have the head-explode type of feeling all the time, Shadow.”

She moves in closer to me, and leans in close, and we hug.

Before she goes to bed, she tells me what keeps her truly resting, even though we, as zombies, can’t truly sleep.

She makes a terrible squeaking, squelching noise with her tongue and teeth and signs, “Sometimes I can’t believe what my mind makes me hear. Like it’s making me relive a complete memory all over again. A nightmare.” her light green eyes give me this tremendously agonized look. She continues to sign, though her arms and fingers are shaking, “In the limestone cave. When he made all the funny pictures on the dark walls when the firelight came on it with his hands. Like a bunny rabbit or a turtle. It made me feel so safe.”

“Hudson always shows his feelings in sweet ways. Ways you’d never expect,” I sign to her and she nods. I ask her, “What about the memory is making you go back to it in such a painful way?”

She shuts her eyes tightly and signs to me, “When the Bloodletters kept breaking his bones. One by one…”

Her hands fall down to her sides. She trembles more, and I rush in to hug her tightly.

I hear her make a tiny, relieved squeak as I kiss her forehead. “Shadow, my dear,” I sign, “The Bloodletters didn’t know any better. The Bloodletters think they are monsters. When they were born, they didn’t instinctively feel the need to go out to harm others in this way. Someone taught them to hate and kill. Look at our friend India.

“She’s a Bloodletter, yet she doesn’t harm anyone. She broke the mold.”

Shadow nods but looks morose, signing, “But they killed your parents.”

“Yes, some did. It took me a while to understand that the Bloodletters were being manipulated by more than just their DNA.” In a slight pause, I try to figure out how to explain it better and I looked upon my goddaughter’s lovely face. There is inspiration that I gather from her beautiful smile.

“I remember at one point telling myself that the grief of losing my parents was too much to bear. I let myself turn into the very thing I desperately wanted to destroy. The vengeance inside of me was more important than healing. The anger inside was boiling over, and I didn’t see clearly. I only saw red. This is what humans feel, too. But, in order to grow, we must be… mindful of what is going on with our hearts versus our actions… I believe that the Bloodletters have intense emotions as well. Grief, pain, sadness. To see it… we must let go of our personal affection for pride.”

Shadow gives me a confused look. “What does pride have to do with it?”

I nod and pull some stray dark hairs around her ear, signing, “The pride that we think we know better. That we are better than others. And that we can do better than others who have been through the same thing and can offer wisdom.”

“So if India can break the mold… maybe others can too?” Shadow signs, hopefulness sparking her features.

I nod. “Yes, my dear. I truly hope so.” I smile. “She found love, too. With Emma. That was a slow process, but I’m so glad they’re happy.”

Shadow grins. “I hope to find love one day!” She signs with a strong jump upward, standing tall.

I stand up with her and tap her nose gently, signing, “Not yet! Don’t grow up too fast!”

She squeaks out a tiny laugh, and we hug, and I send her off to bed.

I work on a few finishing touches of my paintings after things settle when I hear Jack come in, adding a bit more detail to an insect’s wing. I feel a bit of surprise by what I said to my goddaughter about pride, as I never truly processed my feelings during that period. Bud and May, my parents… were all I knew until I met Stan and my new friends that became my family. Having pride is something I realized I had often, and I thought my way was best often. And often, and unfortunately until much later, I realize I was wrong.

“Bexley, that’s beautiful,” Jack says in a quiet voice, and I look over and see him.

Jack is Asher’s uncle. He recently lost someone too.

I sign as I notice him admiring my painting. “Thank you, Jack.”

“You are getting quite adept at layering. Almost like a Renaissance piece.”

I chuckle and shake my head, but the shaking becomes violent, and I almost fall off my stool. Jack runs over and helps me not to fall.

“Oh. I’m so sorry!” I feel my signing is all over the place and Jack sighs sympathetically, clasping my numb hands together as his smile turns sad.

His eyes look ahead, far away.

They tint in amber. A soft melancholy is there, and his expression is beyond tired.

It looks graven, deathly, lovelorn.

Few of the zombies or humans talk to Jack. Jack also is reclusive.

“I might leave here, Bexley. Soon. I can’t stay here anymore. I keep thinking about it. All of it. I can’t do any more research. It’s killing me. I lost it all…” he stops talking to shut his eyes tightly, tears peeking through.

His hands fall sadly as I sign gently, “Jack? Was it Warren? Was he…” I pause, and he nods, biting his lip.

“I did it for him. He was right. I didn’t do it for myself. For glory. For anything or anyone else. I was selfish. I was…” he sighs angrily.

I put a twitching hand on one of his shoulders and he looks at me, tears now running freely from his eyes. I try to put on a determined smile and sign, “I know. But we can still do something good. To unite all of us. The Bloodletters still do these horrible things, even with Warren gone.”

I see Jack wince at the mention of his name. “We will never convince the high elite zombie people to …” Jack grumbles out in a frustrated voice. “To trust anyone. They only care about riches and themselves.”

“Trust is a big problem,” I sign, my hands trying to keep still without flying off and hitting my face accidentally. “I know that. But we have to try. And we can find riches!”

Jack looks at me, worried. “Trihexyphenidyl. Is that medicine I gave you to stop you and your husband’s involuntary body movements from helping? I know it is helping Ash.”

I shrug, signing, “It helps Stan. Not so much me.”

He nods, looking suddenly deep in thought.

“Hmm. I’ll look into that.”

I nod, signing a thank you to him.

He looks at the painting again and smiles.

“You make living in a cave look not so bad, Bex..” he says, but before I could reply, he leaves the recreation room, leaving me to wonder exactly what he meant by that.

***

Hudson’s interlude, like father like daughter

—-

My husband is dragging at my feet. I have little left in me. I was homeschooling our daughter Shadow all week, and Bex had stopped me mid-day, wanting to talk to Ash later once I was done with homeschooling. Going over many things with my daughter, history, war, math, writing, we work with this OT and gardener, who also lets us tend to the garden. We also do a bit of music therapy and art. Earlier that day, Shadow and I made a surprise comic for Ash while he rested. I was waiting for the right moment to show it to him. Shadow was too nervous and gave it to me to give to her dad.

Ash also helps me but gets extremely stressed out about the way his body doesn’t always cooperate as a newly formed zombie. Last year, during the Bloodletter raids in which they killed many humans and zombies, Ash had gotten bitten during the fights.

 It is hurtful to see he can’t do anything how he used to…I try to just let him relax and let his body heal with all the treatments. I told Ash that Bex needed to talk to us… he was just like, “Ahhh!” And started jumping up and down excitedly.

I tried to ask Stan to give me hints…. But nothing. As Ash says… bupkis!

“Hudson…” Ash signs to me over and over, his lower lip trembling.

“Yes, my love, my life?” I ask in the most patient way I can.

“I’m so tired… I wish I could kiss you…I want to paint like Bex… I wish my hands worked as well as hers…” he signs and I sigh, my heart lurching painfully at his sad eyes. I hold him tight in my arms as we reach our bedroom.

“Babe. I know you’d like to do something with Shadow too. I know you wanted to teach her how to make comics and stuff, ugh. Eventually, with all the medicine and treatments your uncle has given you…” I lean down and bit to his eye level and have our foreheads touch. “You’ll be back to your old self.”

He nods slowly and twitches. I hold him closer to my chest, kissing his cheek.

“You are and always have been my weird, sweet, and funny Ash…” I say with a sad laugh as he snuggles close.

Asher looks up at me to sign, “And you are a mensch… my mensch ….”

I smile but crinkle my nose. “Not the most romantic description babe…”

Asher grins widely, ruffling my dark hair that is getting longer than I’d like, making me chuckle.

“Don’t tell me you don’t wanna kiss this mug!” Ash signs to me with an obnoxious look on his face. I laugh louder as we go on our bed and tumble on it, holding each other.

“I do—-ah, shit, stop! Ahahaaaaha! I do!” I laugh in between my declarations as he tickles me.

Our noses touch making me blush, “Ohhh, Ash, you’re killing me…”

Asher winks, but then accidentally slams into me.

“Oomph!” I let out a surprised bit of air as he knocks the wind out of me, as I almost slide off the bed.

“Oh shit! Sorry! Sorry sweetheart!” Ash signs with fervor, getting up to stand on the bed with an apologetic expression.

“No worries… it’s okay, babe!” I say in between a ragged breath.

“Shadow’s been teaching me how to suppress those huge jumps in my movements…. I need to ask Bex this too…” Ash explains in a hasty sign.

“We will talk to Bex and Stan tonight. I’m clueless about the matter,” I say.

Ash shrugs. “Did you eat dinner?”

I shake my head. “No. Not yet. I might grab a quick bite... I plan on making a stew with the fresh potatoes and veggies from our garden that Shadow and I harvested.”

“Too bad I can’t eat! Sounds good…” Ash signs.

“When your uncle gets it together...” I start, noticing Ash’s downcast expression. “Things have been tense with Jack since the Bloodletter scientist incident…”

“My uncle can’t… he’s overwhelmed by his own bullshit. Things will run dry sooner than later now that his chief supplier is gone. We’ve reached the peak. We gotta find a new home eventually, Hudson, for us and our daughter….” Asher signs to me seriously.

“I figured. I can’t imagine Jack’ll find the same level of support financially and that he had with... y’know…” I mutter and Ash nods. “Anaya and the workers are not doing the same level of research as before the death of that…nut.”

Asher looks sad as he signs to me, “I think…. My uncle misses that nut… he knew him since they were kids.”

“Hmmm. Still. It’s a mess. All of it. I can’t believe that. You know… what your uncle did. How I couldn’t get to you or our daughter. That was beyond anything I could imagine...” I say with a sigh, expressing my frustration.

“I know… but you must’ve known that my uncle would’ve never hurt us,” Asher signs to me seriously.

My eyes widen and I suck on my lips, feeling my sigh clog back into my throat.

Ash gives me a questioning look. “What?” He sighs.

“It’s just… no wonder we were fighting with Bex and Stan and stuff before! We were always… you were always defensive about him…” I growl out and Ash’s eyes popped out. He starts to sign fast and angry… so quickly I couldn’t understand it.

I put my hands up and sigh. “Look, babe, I mean nothing by it. I don’t want you to be against your uncle. I just… ugh! It was hell not being able to get to you and Shadow. You know?” I whisper, my face feeling hot as I sit on the edge of our bed.

Ash seems to calm down and sits next to me.

I take out the folded piece of paper in my pocket, handing it to Ash.

“Wh-what’s this?” Ash tries to speak, but it comes out in a tumbling way as the last word sounds like a buzzing bee wrapped in a wet blanket… I grin and kiss his cheek three times.

“Aw.. babe! That was amazing!” I exclaim. “This is something your daughter made today for you.”

He examines the comic after I hand him the paper.

It had a zombie that was walking around trying to sing, “Lalala!” in the air, bubbles above the zombie’s head, and the other zombies looked at him in disapproval. The next zombie wore a “human disguise” that received disapproving looks from all the humans. There was a zombie next to a flower, looking at it with a sad expression.

A bee came buzzing by and said, “Bee yourself!”

The next panel was the zombie and bee singing a song happily in a field of flowers.

Ash looked at me and though he couldn’t cry, I knew he was trying not to and wanting to at the same time… it was a great proud moment for him, I could tell.

“She thought of it all herself. You inspired her,” I tell my husband as we grip hands. “Like father, like daughter.”

Asher nods, kissing the paper. “What a beautiful daughter we have,” he signs with a gleaming smile.

And I smile back, feeling the shining beacon of my family’s joy and happiness overshadow that nagging feeling that is glaring inside of me…

And I hope that this scary, haunting feeling isn’t right.

India’s show, chapter two

My beloved is running around like a cat chasing a mouse. Wild and excited and hungry. She’s running her fingers through my hair; she’s hanging long pieces of different fabrics over me and she’s sewing and cutting and drawing…

Emma. She’s bursting like a wildflower. Her love is sweeter than I can describe. I can’t get enough. I stand still while she showcases her creations. She makes me these creations, clothing she drew in this little tied-up bunch of papers she used to write her diary in, much like mine.

“I can’t tame your wild hair, Indy! Even with these hair pins… agh!” she mutters, and I frown. “I really want you to wear this hat I made you…” she purses her lips and sighs. “It’s a cloche hat made of plum felt… I made it specifically to fit your cute, nappy lil’ head…” she teases with a wink, and I smile.

“Emma, why don’t you take a break? I’ll make you soup…” I sign to her.

“I wanna finish this outfit first. It’s …almost… perfect!” She yells into her closed hands softly.

“Em?” I coo, and the look she gives me sends me off to an alternative universe.

It makes me feel alive, as though I’m flying in the sky tied to a billion strings.

“Ohh, I’m catching a fever, baby, hold me!” Emma cries dramatically and falls into my waiting arms, though I flinch at first, almost backing away. I can’t help that. I know she notices… I can tell by her eyes she knows it’s about my past. I feel my hands close around her entire form, her wide hips near my hips and shoulders gently tip near my chest… and her beautiful smile… I feel like I am melted.

“You… work… too ha-hard…” I say gently. She laughs in a long hum as she hugs me, and the vibration feels good against my ragged and torn-up skin.

“I never got to touch so many types of fabrics… and see so many colors and patterns and shapes…” she whispers into my ear, kissing my neck. “It’s exciting. I always wanted to design and create my own clothes. Always… always wearing the same old shit day after day. I hated living in that crappy, smelly bunker. Do you know? I wanted something prettier… sparkly…. Like cute, you know…” she laughs again, and it trails off into a sad sigh. “I sound so dumb, don’t I?”

“No. You don’t,” I say clearly, and she looks at me with a thoughtful look. I sign, “You sound so smart and thoughtful and sweet. I love to hear you talk about the things that bring you joy.”

Her big, brown eyes widen. She puffs up her lips, a smile dazzling her entire form like an opening flower. “You are too much!” She leans in and smashes her face into my hair, and I feel her breathing me in. “Ahh…. Indy… I think I need to brush this hair…”

“Em. No. Let’s go. You n-need to eat.” I say, as she whines into my neck.

“Yeah, I know,” she says after a while. “And Bex and Stan need to talk to us, too.”

I hear her frustration getting worse. I gently lift her chin up so I can see her face.

“I know you really want to get this done… I believe you will make it perfect as you dreamed. Even if it’s not perfect? Oh, well…” I signed to her. She laughs in a chuckle, throwing her hands down in a resignation way. “It’s made by you, so it’ll be unique.”

“Unique? Awww. You are just the best, Indy.”

She hugs me, and I feel my whole-body quiver and convulse. It’s a strange thing to be hugged this way all the time after being caged up all your life, and my handler that sometimes acted like a father...

I feel too nervous to kiss her, though she tells me to kiss her cheek, and that’s okay, and that we’re a couple. I feel so scared sometimes.

She kisses my cheek, and I grin, but I cover up my smile. Emma gives me an admonishing look and pulls down my hands.

“Don’t cover up that smile!” She yells, cuddling closer to me.

“I’ll... try...” I say, and she nods.

Wrapped up in her new fabrics and designs, I feel so cozy and new, like a brand new me, and I tell her that as we hold each other. The feeling of true safety is keeping us warm, and our intoxicating warmth is intimate.

Later, I make her soup, and she drinks it sitting almost in my lap, as we see Hudson and Asher steal some of our food.

“My baby can cook, huh?” Emma says to the other couple. It makes them jump and turn around near the kitchen stove in surprise and look at us with a mix of nervous and friendly smiles.

Hudson tastes a spoonful and gives us a thumbs up.

“I learned it from my baba,” I say clearly.

Everyone looks at me in surprise. Especially my Emma.

“Are your memories coming in? Seriously!” Emma says excitedly, making the table tremble as she jumps up and down in the seat.

“Baba means grandma; it’s a Jewish thing... that’s amazing, India!” Asher signs to us animatedly.

Hudson sits down next to us and eats the soup in surprise. “You have memories? Of being human?”

I nod slowly, though my head pounds, and I feel this liquid pool in my left ear.

“Holy fuck!” Hudson whispers into his soup spoon. Ash nudges against his shoulder roughly with a warning glare.

Emma looks over at me, concerned, drinking the rest of the soup by pouring the edge of the bowl into her mouth. She takes a huge exhale.

“Damn. This is heavy shit. Baby, we have gotta go over this more. I gotta feeling you’re overloaded right now, huh?” She says, nudging into my shoulder, and I nod to her softly. She winks at me, and I feel numb in my head, like a slow and loud humming canceling out all the other pictures and memories in my brain.

“You guys meeting Bex and Stan in the movie room?” Hudson thankfully changes the subject.

“Yes. I just needed a pick-me-up. Luckily, I got me this soup dumpling stuff my girl made!” Emma exclaims.

“It looks like India made Matzo ball soup, actually...” Asher says, looking at the bowls individually with careful consideration, and I nod.

“A family recipe...” I sign.

Emma grins and takes my hand.

“Let’s go to the movies, y’all,” Emma says to our friends, getting up decidedly.

“Did you dress up India for the occasion?” Hudson says with a mouth full of food, and she giggles, making me smile. I love her laugh.

I was wearing a golden blouse with a layered dark purple stitched tweed jacket, a bright yellow scarf, and pants that were black. The pants had the same lacy pattern stitched in the pant leg (she explained this to me as I do not know about fashion) and seemed tight. The last piece was a plum cloche hat she made just for me. My hair was always too wild and frizzy, and it was making Emma lose her mind. My hair was not fitting in the hat at all!

“I always dress up my partners in layers and cosmic style!” Emma clicks her teeth against her cheek and winks, and Asher laughs softly.

“I’m getting ready for my show!” I sign with a flourish of my hand I learned from Emma. Everyone laughed. But I could tell it was nice laughter, not mean.

It was like I was a new me.

The interruption in the theater room, chapter three

“Darling, are you okay?” Bexley asks me, and I shrug.

I sign after I gain my composure, “Do you honestly think he meant something by that?”

Bex nods, signing, “I do. He was staring at my cave paintings, saying the paintings made caves look like a nice place to live, like he...”

I growl out a mumble that sounds like a gasp, but I know it came off frustrated, and Bex gives me an imploring, questioning look.

“He wouldn’t go out there. Jack wouldn’t leave Ash and his family, either... not to mention... He’s a scientist. He is logical. He’s...” I sign, but then my hands fall down at my sides as Bex gives me an unconvinced glance.

“We are going out there either way. Aren’t we?” Bex signs in a very concentrated way and walks over to me, her lips bruising my face.

“Ahhhh... mmmmm....” I hear my voice hum and rumble, trembling before her... she is my heart even as it’s not beating. Even as we are both two separate, non-rhythmical hearts... together, as husband and wife, we are one pulpy mass of warmth and life and love.

“Bex, I’d follow you to the very ends of the earth,” I sign to her slowly and wrapped my arms around her squishy, soft waist, pulling her close to me.

“Stan, what can we do out there, honestly? I feel so scared.”

My wife’s frantic signing as she gently pushes away from me gives me an anxious feeling clouding my brain.

“I don’t know. I don’t know. Maybe we should stay. I think it’s futile. I can’t imagine the entire zombie race suddenly agreeing to humans to have rights like us. It’s just not done that way. And for them to be living back in above-air neighborhoods and friendly neighborhoods... it’s so unheard of!” She continues.

I take her hands in mine. They feel cold. Colder than mine, but somehow, I feel warm even as my organs are freezing and decaying inside.

I feel the squirming and the squeezing and squelching feeling of blood drying up. I can feel it in my heart. As though someone had tied it up like a dried-up twisted sea sponge... I feel myself reforming and my body hurts, but I have to keep moving forward with her.

For my darling wife, Bexley.

We say nothing for a while. I look into her eyes, and she looks into mine, and we just fall into each other’s embrace.

Her lips touch mine. Icy hot waterfalls enclose us, like a crystalized star, and as we kiss, I know nothing can save us.

But do I want to be saved? I’m with my beloved. I feel more alive than I ever did when I was human. And with her, I feel like a million moons and suns are next to us, pulling their gravity.

We sit down on our bed in our room and relax.

“Have you finished your cave series? I’d very much like to see those paintings side by side...” I sign to her after much comfortable silence.

She nods. “Yes. Finally. I put the last finishing glaze on this last piece. Now, it’s drying.”

“Are you signing it? Like how some people used to in those art books Jack has?” I sign to her with a wink, making her titter cutely. She always makes me smile.

“I am just signing it with a large B. That’s it,” she signs, and I grin, but it veered off into a stretched-out snarl, and she giggled loudly.

“The first zombie artist! So proud of you, my darling!” I sign excitedly, and she claps, blowing me a kiss (she learned it from a movie we watched).

“Ah, my love... you are welcome to join me. You are an artist too!” She signs. I think I laughed, but it came out like a mix of a strange sort of burping noise and a growl.

“How do you talk? I wish I could talk.” I sign, frowning as our eyes locked tiredly.

“It takes practice and diction... that’s the word Jack taught me...” Bexley signs exasperated as we both shrug.

“Ah, Bex, I’ve never heard you say naughty words like that!” I tease. She looks at me, wide-eyed and mouth stretched like a O.

“Pervert!” she signs in a flustered way, in between a teasing push and a short, guzzling laugh.

“I was... kidding!” I sign with the most apologetic face I can muster. She nods, seeming to accept.

“Well, Mr. Kidding,” she puts up quotations with her fingers, another sarcastic thing she learned from the movies... I roll my eyes as she continues, “We have to go now. Everyone is probably waiting for us.”

I nonchalantly agree but fall against her. “But I can’t. My limbs are falling... failing... I mean...” I sign at her lazily as I hack a huge, horrible cough and start cuddling her as she is giggling despite her serious expression.

“Stan, no! Stop! We...” she growls as she signs to me seriously, moving up from the bed to stand. “Have to go!”

“Okay. Okay.” I get up and brush off my clothes. Bex takes my hand and kisses my cheek as we walk down to the theater room. The theater room has an old-fashioned projector and can seat up to fifty people or zombies.

It’s very nice. The seats have red velvet upholstery on them, and the floors feel tacky and sticky. It’s a beautiful room, and it feels cool and dark and a nice place to be with friends or your cute wife.

Clara and Serena will be there as well as Emma, India, Hudson, and Ash.

We get there in a cloud of boisterous sound, hitting us like a tidal wave. It suddenly goes quiet, like awkwardly quiet, and everyone is looking at us suddenly expectantly once we find our way inside the room.

There is nothing to do except wave to everyone...

And then they talk again, but now it’s to us and giving us hugs and I see my wife smiling as we all settle together and sit down.

“Damn, the projector crapped out on us!” Serena yells loudly, not particularly at anyone but to our general group. Clara gives her girlfriend a cross look.

“We are trying to start a movie ‘fore y’all got here! The doc needs to get someone to fix it! Ugh!”

Serena sighs heavily and leans into the seat aggressively, pulling her legs up and hiking her feet on the back of another theater chair in front of her.

Bex gives me a disconcerting look and I growl, shrugging.

“Well, it would’ve been nice, but it’s jammed... that’s what it looks like to me...” Asher signs and Hudson nods.

“I don’t care. That’s not important. First things first... What do y’all think of how gorgeous India looks tonight...” Emma says in a sing-song way, and eyes India, “Stand up, baby! Strut your stuff!”

I see India shifting nervously and sinking lower and lower into the seat, and Bexley noticed this too.

“I think she looks very cute...” Clara signs and Asher nods.

“Just let her sit! She wants to relax!” Hudson mumbles loudly and Asher gives him a side glance.

Emma glares at him. “My India can speak for herself! Go on, girl,” she looks at India. “What do you wanna do? Don’t worry about making me feel bad. I won’t feel bad.”

India looks around at everyone and signs, “I’m proud of Emma’s outfits. I just want to sit for now, if that’s okay.”

Emma nods and caresses India on the shoulder. “Good. That’s fine with me!” She says haughtily to Hudson, and he scoffs lightly, rolling his eyes.

Bexley gives me a flustered look and I shrug again, but I see her sign.

“Thank you for coming. Stan and I have been talking and are trying to come up with a plan. An expedition… a sort of thing we need to do...” she rambles, and I could feel her intense nervous energy as she signed.

I stood up and tried to clear my throat, but it came out like a strange snarl.

“Well, what Bex is trying t..”

I try to sign, but suddenly, I hear noises coming from the door to the theater room.

“We can’t! I don’t know how to work the movie thing… if Bhavna finds us...”

I hear laughter and suddenly see three children running around and stop in a quiet flurry of childish looks that said, “Uh oh,” and “Are we in trouble?”

I notice it is Jonas and Jacob, the two young human brothers, and Shadow, my goddaughter.

Hudson stands up and says, “Shadow, honey, why are you up with the other kids?”

Asher stands up and signs, “You need to set a better example, sweetie. You can’t be roaming the facility at night, especially when there’s a huge chunk of the building still missing.”

Bex goes over to the kids and hugs Shadow and smiles at the other two.

“Did you all want to watch a movie?” She signs. They all nod eagerly.

“I told my brother it wasn’t a good idea...” Jonas states, as Jacob scoffs.

“No! No! You wanted to go!” Jacob argues. Bex puts her finger over her lips and makes a shushing sign.

Shadow signs, “Can we, please, godmother?”

She shakes her head. “There will be lots of time in the day for that. Take the younger kids and help them go back to bed, please,” I see her sign and I smile proudly; I see her so loving and confident, handling our goddaughter and the kids so thoughtfully. It makes me yearn for children with her.

Asher comes over and kisses her goodnight. “Go try to read that book of history again. Dad and I will be back soon,” Ash signs to his daughter and she nods solemnly.

“That book is a bit too easy for me but Ok, love you, Dad,” she signs and blows all of us a kiss, making us laugh. Shadow winks as she puts her arms around Jacob and Jonas to escort them out of the room.

Hudson grins at Bex as she comes back over.

He gleams at her, “You are so good with kids, Bex.”

Clara nods. “It’s like you are a natural,” she signs.

Bexley tilted her head, her eyes half-lidded, and she looked so radiant… a little embarrassed to have so much attention on her, but she just looked at me.

She shrugs and signs, “I don’t think this is necessarily a conversation children should be involved in, is all…” I nod. “I agree, it’s a matter we should all come to an agreement to… it’s been easy-going lately…” I signed and then Serena spoke up.

“I noticed the backup generators were having issues this past week. The power in a lot of the areas here throughout Doc’s facility and housing quarters is rickety and spotty. I don’t know if it has anything to do with that crazy Bloodletter he shot, darling, but things are slowly going to hell in a hand-basket, as my granddaddy used to say,” she rambles and suddenly, everyone is talking and signing up a storm, and Bex and I give each other a long, flustered and frustrated gaze.

Hudson notices and yells. “HEY! Quiet, you guys! I believe Bex and Stan have news for us.”

Everyone settles down and looks at us, and I sign, “It’s ok, I understand everything is not so stable…”

“We have a plan to go out, back to several caves,” Bex begins. “We need as many allies as possible to find more bloodletters, zombies, and humans to join us... We...” she pauses and looks at me expectantly.

“I want to show the rich elites that our unique qualities shouldn’t divide us. We are going to get them to agree to allow Bloodletters and humans to live in the remaining zombie territories and neighborhoods.”

Everyone is extremely silent after we lay our proposal out, but I see it in all of their faces... they think it’s nuts.

“What? Are you kidding, darling? That’s batshit crazy!” Serena yells with a cackle.

India stands up. “Can the zombies trust the Bloodletters after what we did? My people have destroyed tons of zombie homes… even mansions... It’s a bad idea...” she signs, and Emma frowns.

“You didn’t do that shit, Indy. That’s not your fault,” Emma says softly, and India signs concisely, “Yes, but I have to represent my people. I am a Bloodletter. I have to answer for my people’s actions.”

Asher signs, “I feel we should try it. I am going. I stand with Bex and Stan!”

Hudson grimaces. “You need to stay with our daughter! Ash! Seriously!” He says in a hushed yell, extreme anxiety and worries hitting his face.

“You went out with Bex last time. You homeschool our kid. I need to help this time,” Ash signs defiantly, and Hudson scoffs loudly.

“Come on, everyone, let’s just settle down, please!” Clara stands up and signs with ferocity to her open palm, relaxing us by making us sit down for a moment.

“Sorry, honey bunch...” Serena whispers to Clara, leaning on her shoulder. Clara nods and pats her girlfriend on the head. Serena kisses her cheek.

Suddenly, we hear the door open slowly with a creak, and we see Bhavna. Her lightly colored head wraps loose and fluttering about. Exhausted, she looks very disheveled and messy.

She comes over, looking frantic, “Excuse... excuse me... where are the boys? I can’t find my sons. I asked Ben but he is shut in with his work...” She signs to us, and Hudson runs over and tells her, “They are with my daughter. She was going to help them go to bed. I’m so sorry, Bhavna. Ma’am.”

I find myself thinking about Ben for a moment. He really has divided has himself away from our group ever since his sister Kai died and Warren was killed.

Bhavna almost falls on Hudson in surprise and signs, “Oh! Good! I was so worried I didn’t see them in their beds!”  Hudson smiles as she hugs him.

Hudson chuckles. “You’re welcome!”

She looks at us and waves shyly, “So sorry to interrupt! I must get back to my calligraphy... good night!” She nods, and we all wave and said good night.

“You’re welcome to join us anytime!” Hudson says.

Emma adds, “Yeah, don’t be a stranger!”

She smiles slightly. “I appreciate that. I am so nervous in enormous groups.”

India jumps in, “I used to be that way too,” but then wraps her arms around Emma, making Emma giggle.

Bhavna nods in appreciation. “A very important truth. I respect that. Growth is important. Have a safe night.”

And she turns to leave, waving at us gently.

“Well, damn, this has turned into an odd sort of night, hasn’t it?” Emma says. “When exactly are you planning for us to all go, Bex? Stan?” She asks us in a slightly huffy way, yawning in between the sentences.

“I believe in about two weeks. We can start planning the journey, and if Ax comes, he can help carry most of the artillery and supplies.”

“I don’t know if Ax will want to come... I’ll ask him,” Serena begins. “He did recently lose a brother.”

Bex nods, signing with a sympathetic look. “He doesn’t have to come; I’ll talk to him,” and Serena nods in agreement.

“I am still healing from my surgery. I believe I am better, but I don’t know if I’m at one hundred percent,” India signs.

I sign, “India, we understand that. I will say no one has to go. Especially if they are unwell.”

Emma sighs. “I’m itching to leave. But I won’t go without Indy.”

I nod, and so does Bex.

“That crappy makeshift fence Jack put up in front of the destroyed part of the facility will not keep the Bloodletters out forever. I have a bad feeling that this place to going to hell... it’s just not up to par. Y’all feel me?” Serena said, and everyone agreed with either a loud acknowledgment or a nod of the head.

Hudson takes Ash’s hand. “We got to check on Shadow. But, we’re going to discuss everything tonight and tomorrow, and we will give you our decision, okay, guys?” He says to me, and I nod, frowning slightly.

Bex signs, “Do what’s best for you and your family, of course,” and Hudson gives us both a dissatisfied huff.

“You two don’t have kids. How could you understand?” Hudson says under his breath as he leaves.

Ash pulls away and signs, “I’m so sorry Bex... Sorry, Stan, Hudson is really stressed...” he gives us an apologetic smile. His expression falls, twitching, and I see his blue eyes are clouded and more reddish than usual. He hacks out a very long and sputtering, painful splurging cough... but it sounds muffled. No air is in the cough. It terrifies me, and I run over to him. So does Hudson.

“God! Are you okay, A-Ash, baby?” Hudson worriedly says as Ash holds onto his stomach, looking in pain.

Bex and Emma also come over and try to help Ash relax. It is a horrible sight to see your best friend suddenly so stiff, immovable, like… 

Like a corpse. An actual, six-feet-under corpse with no sign of undead life.

Hudson is tearing up. 

“Ash! ASH!” Hudson yells, tears running down his face. 

That brand of zombie catatonic state is a feeling I know all too well. My wife Bex went through it. So did I. 

“Here, let’s get him to sit down... maybe getting his posture better will help him…” Emma suggests, and I nod, as we all lift him up and help carry him to a seat nearby. 

Hudson is heavily breathing, tears streaming down, and he looks frantic. 

“Call Jack. Please! Get Ash’s uncle! He will know when-what to do!!” His speech is so all over the place. I feel so bad as he is clutching onto his husband, holding onto him desperately. It makes me feel utterly hopeless and just as frantic. 

Serena and Clara rush to get Jack. I grip my best friend’s hand tightly. 

It is dark and quiet in the theater room, watching my best friend sink into the deep waters of a petrified zombie hive mind. 

Chapter four: the broken projector reel 

Ash is looking straight ahead, unable to move, and I feel like screaming. 

My heart, my soul, my love… 

I’d die for you. 

Everyone and everything around me is a blur as I see my friends trying to help us and wake Asher up. 

India and Emma hum this song near Asher. It sounds so soothing… and I relax too... but it’s like a morphing stage… Bex explained it. 

A caterpillar, which looks like a tiny hairy worm, crawls around and eats a lot. Just like how Ash used to, (she had cannily added to me and I laughed). Zombies do not eat brains or human flesh. I used to think they did. Fortunately, those rumors were false. Bexley taught me to trust zombies firsthand. It’s hard to think zombies and caterpillars are similar this way, but I focus on the renewal process over the eating differences.

Bex explained that when the transformation inside the caterpillar is ready to start, it’s created a hard chrysalis around its whole body. Nothing and no one can get at it. That is what I’m having trouble with. Bex explained inside is enormous growth, change and all the creature needs is time. To heal and change. 

Then, it cracks, splitting open… and new fresh wings emerge, and the caterpillar is a butterfly. 

She signs this to me as I hold Asher. I calm down. 

“We all need time to heal. To grow,” she adds, hugging me. 

I let out a long, shuddering breath. 

“Ash has been through so much. He doesn’t deserve this,” I say. 

Stan nods. 

“Change is never a peaceful thing. Change can be silent. Sometimes… violent. After the end, it can be beautiful,” he signs, and I frown. 

I don’t know about all that; I think. My only desire is for Ash to wake up. 

From the other end of the theater, a huge booming crash suddenly resounds. 

“What the hell is that?!” Bex signs in a confused way and I shrug. 

Suddenly, a loud static sound hits our senses, and the large screen gets filled with broken images and then… black. 

Serena and Clara come running, Jack in tow. Shadow and two boys peeking fearfully near the projection room’s glass caught my attention. 

“Sh-Shadow! Go… To… Bed!” 

With a huge collective gasp (or look of shock), we look over at Ash. 

He woke up.

And… Spoken! 

“Welp! Who knew a damn broken movie projector would be the best part of the night?” Serena yells with a relieved laugh, making us all smile and Jack actually smile back. 

Everyone hugged Ash, and I kissed him on his cheek and forehead, so happy he was okay. 

I asked Jack to look at him, since I was still worried. 

Let me look at him before you two go back to bed. “Why don’t you just get your little rascal up there?” he points to Shadow, smiling at her with a wink. My goddaughter waves impishly at him before running off with her friends. “And I’ll send him down afterward.” 

I nod, sighing. I didn’t fully trust Jack, but he was Asher’s uncle, after all. 

“Thank you, Jack,” I say curtly and nod. 

With a solemn smile, he looks at me and we bid good night, though sleep eludes most of us. I collect my daughter and the two boys. 

I find my daughter and her two friends trying to pick up the broken pieces of the projector and put it back together. 

“Dad! Sorry! We didn’t mean it!” Shadow signs frantically, getting in front of the boys. “Don’t be upset! Don’t get them in trouble. The little brother was crying, and I brought them here to help him feel better…I’ll tell Ms. Bhavna it’s my fault!” 

I look at her with a soft smile and chuckled, feeling the stress and weight of before leaving, and the gracious strength of my daughter filled me with hope. 

I leaned down and saw her beautiful face, and I saw past her scars. Her light green eyes… and her beautiful braided dark hair. 

Ash braided it, complaining. “I’ll make this cute stringy hair into a thick braid somehow!”

 I gave her a big hug. 

“I love you so much, Shadow,” I say with a long sigh, and she hugs me back. 

After a few seconds, our hug ends and she looks at me, bewildered and happy. 

“Is this how human parents deal with disobedient children?” She asks and I laugh. 

“Only with cute, sweet, and smart zombie daughters!” I tease, and she grins. 

I smile at the other two boys, who look less nervous. “Come on, your momma is looking for you two!” They nod, take a deep breath, and follow Shadow and me with a spring in their step. 

—— 

Later, I got my daughter settled in her room and the boys back with their zombie-adopted mom. I waited anxiously for my husband to return from the medical exam that his uncle was giving him. 

It’s tough to be in a relationship with a zombie as a human! 

You can’t kiss! You can’t be intimate! 

You can’t do anything! 

It was already incredibly difficult before when we lived in the human bunker, and our relationship was already taboo. I hated it. I longed to hold Ash’s hand and be near him constantly. My shyness required him to take the first step towards honesty about our feelings. Gay stuff… gay relationships… everyone was super against it. Humanity is dying off, and that’s why it’s important to procreate. I get that. But… I can’t help who I love. Ash and I grew up together, we survived together, and we laughed, cried, and truly kept each other going in the hellish world. 

Some opposed us on moral grounds, but most saw it as an impractical way to maintain civilization. It was hard enough to get time with my boyfriend alone to kiss, cuddle, or just talk about our relationship or future. 

Especially… be intimate. 

The one time we were alone… Ash scouted out an old, abandoned train station with a train that we could go inside. We checked for bloodletters, and of course, no respectable zombie would go there. 

So… once it was clear, we went inside. 

It was the middle of the night and Ash brought a candle to... “Light the mood.” 

I brought a blanket to put on top of whatever we laid on. 

Asher laid on it first. 

“Come here, big guy, come get me…” he teased, making me blush and chuckle nervously. 

I lean down as he winks at me, his wild curls driving me wild all over his face. Suddenly, he pulls me by my shirt and I’m colliding with him, our bodies meshing perfectly… and our lips meeting. We decided we wouldn’t make love until we were married. But this was enough.

It was like my whole body was waking up. My insides were like the inside of a sun… and my body was the heated-up parts waiting for Ash to cool them down. He washed away all my fears. My doubts. My anxiety. 

I remember his blue eyes… how bright and beautiful and sweet he looked at me, kissing me over and over. How his heels were digging into my back, moaning and crying out my name… saying he wanted to marry me. “I wanna fuckin’ marry you,” he’d say in such a heated, fervent voice… and I’d just fall into his powerful arms, whispering how much I loved him. 

Needed him. 

Wanted to make him mine. 

“I am yours, always…” he growled into my mouth as we hungrily kissed, our breath whittling out into hard pants and cries we rubbed against each other passionately. It was his soft cuddly nature afterward that made me swoon and feel so loved afterward. He always took care of me.

And then… 

Now… 

Ugh. 

I don’t know how much longer I can stand it. It is like Stan… I feel like I am going to explode. 

I need my husband. I saw his badly Stan needed his wife, Bex. It’s just as bad for me and Ash. 

While we had a three-year relationship where we kissed and fooled around in secret, making love was much more satisfying.

Rather, making love with my darling, my love for Ash… that makes it better. 

I know Ash gets residual feelings. Even physical ones. It’s uncertain if risking a turn for intimacy with my husband is worth it. 

These memories are bittersweet. They help me when I need … release... but in every other category… it hurts. It fucking hurts to see my husband sick and I can’t help. I’m frustrated by my lack of control and inability to find a solution.

In my family, my dad was the one who showed us unfaltering strength, never letting up, never showing “weakness,” or anything that seemed feminine or even sad. My mother had ALS and after a while of having muscle weakness in her hands and legs, she couldn’t walk anymore. When my dad would get our supplies, I’d take care of her and soothe her when she needed it. My dad was not the touchy-feeling type of person. 

It was hard to relate to emotions, especially mine, for the longest time until I met my best friend, Stan and Ash, the love of my life. 

“Honey, you don’t impress me,” Asher had said to me that late twilight hour as we hung out in the forest. 

Of course, I’d remain stoic and try to impress everyone, trying to imitate my father’s sternness. I tried to act like a perfect wall, a rock. Immovable and impenetrable. 

But, I wasn’t. 

I saw Ash lean in, still talking… 

And I kissed his “smart ass mouth,” a line I’d often say to him.

It all came out, and I felt released. I was just me around him, and I couldn’t be happier. He knew me and I knew him, and we were in love.

Now, being a human husband to a zombie man… it’s so strange. I love him more than I ever did… it’s just so weird and it feels like a horrible twist of fate that now we can openly be affectionate, we can’t because then I’ll turn. 

And we have our lovely daughter, Shadow. When I first met her, Bloodletters had kidnapped me (I had foolishly tried to get a gem for Ash, and zombies found me). They had brought me, along with her, to that disgusting blood-soaked limestone cave. Bloodletters hate zombies and humans the same, but the only difference is they just kill zombies. They break the bones of humans and pour out the blood, mixing it with some weird elixir to drink… something to help them live longer. Similar to how gems and diamonds and gold can heal and rejuvenate zombies (though the rare gems are for the elite ones…). 

And there in that cave, even as I felt trapped, miserable, and almost ready to die, I found solace with that zombie girl. I made shadow puppets on the cave walls to pass the time and I saw it made her smile… the most subtle of smiles. 

We used sign language (I knew little, but I tried), and I tried to communicate the best I could without the Bloodletter’s knowing.. and we formed a bond. A paternal bond. 

She’s the best daughter a father could ask for. I love her with all my heart. 

That is my family, Ash, me, and Shadow. I would not exchange it for anything in the world. 

Finally, my beloved returns. 

Jack is here and gives me the rundown. 

“With the underlying disease of Fatal Familial insomnia being at the center point here, it looks like Ash…” Jack looks at me sadly and sighs. “Might be a tremendous risk of a coma. That’s in the last stages before..” 

Ash looks down at his feet, shuffling around. 

“Before…be-before what? How can… w-we stop it?” I ask with a heaving sigh. I can feel the sob trying to come up and I swallow it. Ash looks at me and takes my hand. 

Jack puts his hand on the back of his neck, rubbing it, and sighed again. “I gave Ash some meds to control the patterns of unrest and muscle spasm. I have this medication. Methylphenidate. It can help to prevent life-threatening and costly complications of prolonged unconsciousness. It is good for promoting early ambulation and recovery…” Jack frowns. “I gave it to Ash, hoping it’ll help. It’s just so late stage…” 

I grimace, letting go of Ash’s hand to get closer to Jack, holding onto his arms, gripping tighter than I mean to. Jack’s eyes go wide, and his breath is rapid, strained. 

“Is there a way you can fix this? If there’s anything els… anything else, you can think of. Please… please,” I lower my voice even more. We stare at each other, but he says nothing, just gives me this utterly horrified, pained look. 

“Please…” 

Jack sighs and keeps his eyes on me. “Son, you have to know when to let go. There are things even medicine and science can’t do. You gotta pray.” 

His words hit me like a punch to the gut and I loosen my grip and move away, nodding just barely, my eyes shut tight. 

Ash takes my hand again, this time more aggressively, and I feel him pull me to our room. 

“Good night, you two, I hope you rest…” 

I hear Jack pull Ash over and whisper something else, and then we finally get to the room. 

“Hold me,” Ash signs before I say anything else. 

I nod, wiping my tears. 

Zombies can’t cry. Not usually. 

But I see the intense sadness in his eyes. 

I carry him into bed and hold him tight. I kiss his cheek and whisper; everything will be fine. 

Better than fine. Great. 

He nods and smiles, and I sniffle and wipe my nose on my shirt. 

“Is Shadow in her room?” He asks me, playing with my hair. 

He twists and curls it around his graying fingers. 

“She’s in her room. She got into a bit of trouble with the younger boys, trying to sneak into the movie room. They broke the projector,” I explain, and Ash smiles. 

“That’s what I would’ve done if I were her age … that projector didn’t work anyway…” he sighs and I laugh. 

We don’t talk about comas or death or anything like that. 

We talk about life. 

“It’s like my mind is awake all the time, but my body is completely asleep,” Asher tries to explain the unresolved restlessness to me. “My brain sometimes makes these booming noises, loud crackles. Like how Shadow talks about. It’s a strange experience...” he signs to me as he waves his fingers around his head in a rapid motion. I hold him tighter.

“I wish I could clear your and Shadow’s minds. A clear as a blue sky. I would put Shadow and you in a crystal cocoon and let you heal in it, and then you both would come out… fresh and alive again…” I nuzzle my face into his neck, and he smiles. 

“A butterfly?” Ash signs in a question. 

I nod. “My beautiful butterfly family…” 

Ash grins. “And you’ll be the worm!” He teases and I scoff but laugh. 

“You little so and so! Take it back!” I growl and tickle him, but he doesn’t feel it anymore. 

He smiles anyway and shakes his head. 

“Never,” he signs. 

His blue eyes give me goosebumps, and he kisses my cheek… 

Close to my lips… 

And I almost die in ecstasy.