I'm in Love with a Zombie's Daughter

I have always thought zombie stories were stupid with a capitol S, until something ordinary happened to me right in my own home. Yes, I said ordinary. I was minding my own business when our new neighbors knocked on our door and my mom invited them in. She then proceeded to call her children from the four corners of the earth to present her brood in polite fashion once the neighbors had removed their government issued radiation prevention suits. I tried to ignore her as I usually would, but she was unrelenting. “Fedar Elias Ouray!” she repeated. So, I slunk from the basement to see what the issue could be. Could anything be more earth shattering than the radiation released from the nuclear power plants when our President demanded they be ratcheted up beyond maximum capacity?

As I crested the stairs, my legs abruptly morphed into large gelatinous stumps and my eyes about glazed over. Before me stood a goddess that should not be allowing her precious feet to meet the ground. Neuro fireworks began to go off in my body almost putting me in a coma. Strangely, her beauty was not glowing brightly enough to blind anyone else. Only me.

My tongue became the size of a giant sloth causing my words to resemble the slurred sounds of baby hippos. When she put her hand to her face in shyness, I nearly crumpled to the floor like a wad of discarded gum. Her hair glistened like silken strands of priceless gold from King Tut’s tomb. My stomach fluttered like a feather caught in a gentle breeze as her mouth arched in a shy smile.

How could this be happening to me now when most people are saying that the end of the world is near? Nearly a third of Asia was erased from the globe when our military bombed Iran for not inviting our president to their summit. Instead of a wall, there is now a huge chasm between us and Mexico. Plus, the bombings to keep Mexicans from entering the U.S. also caused the San Andreas fault to send half of California into the Pacific Ocean.

Finally, I heard her father say the only part I cared about, “my children, Amber and…” Then, his eyebrows furrowed in a gruff look saying do not even think about touching her. I tried to show some manners, but my brain was swimming in hormones and could not come up for air. My mother asked them to sit in the living room and got busy getting them some drinks. I was frozen there, didn’t know if I should stay, go, sing, dance… Amber was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. Hazel brown eyes that shimmered and danced when she spoke highlighted her face and a melody from heaven was released each time she spoke.

In the awkward silence, Mr. Zombie, was keeping an eye on me. He was not a memorable man. Not much taller than me and his hair simply collapsed against his head and didn’t make any kind of statement. The mother looked around and smiled at the décor. They seemed normal. No sinister stares. No flaking skin. No bulging eyes. Just regular Joes like my family. Mr. Zombie asked me a question that I could not seem to process. Just then, dad entered the room and shook his hand.

In our house, any time the parents wanted to talk, the kids were relegated to the basement. Of course, we did not mind. Who wants to listen to their polite talk about the sun’s shrinking and dimming, radioactive water or the news about Donald Trump being re-elected, again? It suddenly dawned on me that as the climate changed abruptly, and we had removed our games to install the obligatory radiogardase machine to remove radioactive particles from our bodies, we had not given a shred of thought to adding even a sliver of appealing décor in the basement.

I was certain that Amber would quickly become bored and want to leave. Instead, she became like the activities director on a cruise ship. She quickly organized us into teams and announced that this would be a 3-tiered challenge. Everyone was having a great time when dad came through the door with Mr. and Mrs. Zombie. We played until an alarm went off on Mr. Zombie’s watch. All the fun came to a screeching halt. I felt like the very life was going to drain out of me.

Later, I was finding it hard to sleep after my turn in the radiogardase machine. Prussian Blue dye pumped into our veins removed the larger radiation particles through our bowels. I was not sure if my diarrhea had subsided for the night. Never had I been so overwhelmed with attraction to a person. I wanted to talk to her more than I wanted to breathe. Finally, I drifted off to sleep only to see her again in my dreams.

Morning came and diminished sunlight smacked at my eyelids. I showered for my regulated 20 seconds then took an exorbitant amount of time deciding what to wear and how to comb my hair. Downstairs, I found mom in the kitchen with the tv on showing chaos because of Trump’s 4th election win, although, not consecutively because of the whole Biden/Harris fiasco.

Rumblings began again of a rigged election. Not that it mattered. New voting machines had been manufactured by Trump’s company and poll workers are now selected by the sitting president. Only one polling station is allowed per state. Military troops keep the peace and decide who may vote. Many people are turned away who have identification with suspiciously inaccurate photographs. They are turned away if they grew a mustache or have since shaved it off, if their hair is longer or shorter, or if their skin is tanner now.

“One man was turned away because he was not wearing the same clothing as in his ID picture. It’s unbelievable…” my mother announced. She paused and looked in my direction. “You’ve showered already? Is there some school function that I forgot about?”

“No, mom. I am just going to meet some friends.”

“You have friends?” She quipped. I stifled a laugh, put on my radiation suit, and hurried out the door with a whole muffin stuffed in my mouth. I decided to do the unthinkable… knock on their front door. Her brother answered and began to stutter about his surprise to see me so soon. I could no longer hear what he was saying. As long as Amber was within 100 yards, all my attention would be focused on her.

Dressed in sweatpants and a tank top, she quickly stepped into her suit and pushed her brother aside. She strolled onto the porch and smiled at me. “I wondered if I might see you today. You didn’t ask for my serial number, so I was not sure you liked me.”

“I wanted to be sure your family wasn’t infiltrators.” Regrettably, my name provides a glimpse into my ethnicity, as does my honey brown colored skin. She is lily white. According to the new rule of law, we are not allowed to be a couple, but I will not kowtow to the government.

“We were shipped out of Alaska when the state was seized by Russia,” she said as we walked toward her backyard. “They sent us to Portland for processing, then my dad got a position here in Richmond.”

“I’m glad. So, how do you feel about the curfew?”

“It’s just a way to exert control. They cannot force us to agree with them even if he does silence the critics.”

“Funny how each one has mysteriously succumbed to the radioactivity.”

“Do you read the loyalty files?”

“Yes, propaganda nonsense. I read them to get the sustenance points.” Sustenance points have replaced the long-outdated paper currency system.

“Well, I can give you mine if you need them.”

“Really? You don’t need them?”

“No. I only use them occasionally for little stuff.”

We began communicating habitually using the social link transponders embedded in our skin and hanging out in each other’s houses daily since school is out for the summer.

Exactly one week later, I waited for her in between our houses. She opened the garage door and I hurried in and removed my suit. We climbed into the backseat of her mom’s car and were awkwardly silent. I had already decided today was the day we would share our first kiss, but it wasn’t supposed to happen so quickly. My stomach was fluttering again, and I figured the only way to calm it down was to jump right in. So, I leaned in until I could feel her breath on my skin. Fortunately, she bent forward and met my lips with hers. Wow! I think she was trembling afterward. She turned and leaned back against me, and we talked about our future.

“Did you hear the news about Trump sightings?” I asked her about one month later.

“No, but my dad was talking about it. I think it’s a publicity stunt.”

A zombie Trump aid convinced all zombies that Trump is their savior as long as their skin remains white, off white or grey. The aid used a strand of the precious golden coif to create a tonic and then mutated into a Trump clone. Not just his looks, but his personality as well. At a rally, the aid bit other zombies and within days they turned into Trump clones. Then, sightings of Trumps started being reported. At first, they were mocked and dismissed as hoaxes; but now, there are so many of them that it cannot be denied.

“You are probably right.” I said as I pulled a small box from my pocket. I handed it to her without saying much. The heart-shaped locket had a premonition picture of the two of us married with 2 kids.

“Wow. It’s perfect.”

“I’m glad you like it. I love you Amber, and I want to always love you.”

“I want to always love you, too.”

About three days later, when we talked, I shared that “I thought I saw a Trump going inside your house last night.”

Trump clones are multiplying quickly and most people are trying to avoid being transformed.

“Yes, it was my dad. He changed overnight.”

“Your dad? Is he a zombie?”

“Yes. I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid you would dump me.”

“But your family looks just like mine.”

“Yea. My brother and I aren’t old enough yet to find out if we would be zombies, too.”

“Now how are you going to keep from becoming a Trump?”

“I don’t know.”

Millions of Trump clones are now worshipping each other. All have the same ego and want to take turns at being president. The original was angry at first, then he realized he can play golf as much as he wants, yet still, be in charge of everything. Amber was transformed last week, and I could not continue the relationship. She gave me back the heart-shaped locket and we haven’t talked since. I miss her horribly. I still love her. As I look at our picture, I remember how unique we each were and our differences. I thought they were a good thing back then.

Eh, that’s lame, I love her. I threw the locket into our furnace and watched it melt. I went to her and told her that I still wanted to always love her. She bit me yesterday and I am still working on getting the combover right. “This world is all screwed up, but at least I am with you,” I said to her as we sat in our favorite spot where we had our first kiss.

“I love looking at you,” I told her.

“I love looking at you too,” she replied.

Then, we kissed.