Keep Busy

9.

As they continued on in silence, Frank tried to organize his thoughts.

This girl... this zombie girl looked strikingly... normal. She walked normally, like a living person, he long hair swayed lazily with each step. There were no signs of decomposition that he could identify. She seemed strong and fit and in total control of her faculties. Her outfit was a bit confusing though. She looked like she was wearing hospital scrubs or a nurse's uniform. Her plain white shoes had squeaked softly as she went back around to the driver's side and got in the truck.

Frank tried to place the scent he caught from her—disinfectant mixed with flowers?

Once he'd changed into fresh jeans and another black tee-shirt, he'd taken a few steps away from the road and unzipped.

Maybe I should run, he'd thought. But really, where would I go? He had no idea where they were and if he'd taken to the forest, he figured he'd eventually run into some hungry ghouls or die of exposure.

Jane is my best hope at... well, Jane was the only sensible...

Maybe we'll fall in love and have wacky misadventures.

He'd relieved himself then returned to the 4 Runner. She'd already put his music on.

After ticking off a few dozen miles she turned to him. "Honestly, I don't mind your metal shit," she said smirking.

"Fuck off," he said, returning the grin, then turned down the music. "So, when was your birthday?"

"Alright, there are a few things I should explain," she began. "I told you I'd only been watching you for a few days—that's true. But I don't want you to think it was a stalker kinda thing. I was... studying you. Seeing if you'd lead me to other people. But the reason it was only a couple of days was because I was frozen up until then."

"What's that?" Frank asked as he pictured the idiotic faces he must have made when masturbating.

"I died just after the outbreak started," she continued. "Fucking freak occurrence—car accident. Which, at the time, seemed like such a shit way to go considering the world was falling apart and there was all this chaos and insanity—this momentous thing was happening to the world and I fucking run a red light on the way to 7-11 to get a Red Bull. This was when things were still open—people weren't hoarding, which is what I assumed happened."

She looked at Frank who nodded.

"So, anyway, as far as I can figure it, they put me on ice waiting for an autopsy or toxicology specialist or something and that's when Cheney got hit. Either that or they just forgot about me."

"You were... frozen?"

"Sort of? I guess," she squeaked, lifting her shoulders. "I'm really not sure about any of this but while I was in that freezer, I... woke up. Reanimated, I guess. I couldn't move or anything, but my mind was working. 

"Now, you have to understand, you don't sleep when you're dead. So, I just laid there thinking... for about three months—it's September so... I think it was about three months—seemed like forever. So, to avoid going completely crazy I spent my time thinking of what I would do if I became a zombie. Planning. I had seen enough stuff on the news that I knew the zombies lived off their desire to feed but they were ultimately brainless—controlled by their hunger. I don't know what the difference is with me, maybe it was three straight months of constant, unrelenting brain activity that kept me cognitive, but I decided, if I was ever to come out of that freezer that I would have a plan. I would make sure I could survive—as the case may be.