Otherwise known as: How to keep busy in the Zombie Apocalypse when you’re a shambling corpse yourself.
Day Fifteen since the outbreak.
Beyond stood in Safeway for a long moment, deliberating over whether the Pringles or the Doritos seemed like the better purchase. He wasn’t going to eat them either way, but which ones would be more fulfilling to have? He turned to a zombie nearby who was dragging her broken ankle behind her as she shuffled along the bloodslicked tile floor.
"What do you think? Were you a Pringles person, or a Doritos person?"
"RGHhhhhhhhhhhhhhh." She let out a gurgle that was 10% breath, 90% lung fluid.
"Ah. Right then." She seemed like a Pringles person, anyway. He grabbed the least bloody tube he could find and stuffed it into his cart, whistling as he did.
Beyond decided today was a good day to go to the park. He hadn’t gotten much sunlight before the outbreak, anyhow, and maybe he could find some infected dogs or something to play frisbee with.
He flopped onto the dry, crunchy grass and stared around. Hm.
A zombie with short-cropped pink hair and a missing arm shambled by. She was kind of cute, aside from the vacant expression and the bloody drool.
"Do you come here often?"
No response. She was playing hard to get.
"Oh, I know, it’s a lame pickup line. Anyway, I like your hair. It must have been a bitch to maintain before you… y’know, became the undead."
A response. Maybe his coy charms were working on her.
"Hey, if you ever get time off from eating the flesh of the living, you should totally call me sometime. Us undead have it rough, right? You might get a little lonely."
She shuffled towards the park’s rest area before tripping and landing on her face. Cute.
"Okay, well… if you ever reconsider, you can find me. I’m the only zombie capable of speech, apparently."
Day twenty-five had Beyond wishing Starbucks was still functioning. Not because he could drink the coffee, but he sure missed the free wifi. The rotting corpse with the remnants of a barista uniform still clinging to it was trapped behind the counter, making continuous laps of the small spaces between blenders and the broken glass display which had once held cake.
"Hey, can I get a tall soy latte with extra cream?"
"Joking, joking, I know you’re probably sick of that by now. So uh… how’d you get a job at Starbucks?"
"Ah, yeah, you gotta take what you can get in this job market."
Beyond slumped at one of the chewed couches and sighed. MAN was the zombie apocalypse boring. He was going to have to find some survivors to hang out with or something.
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