My boyfriend became a zombie. The moment we saw each other again, he lunged at me viciously... and hammered the zombie right behind me into oblivion! He quickly hid his blood-stained hands behind his back, not wanting me to see. He just looked at me with those wide, puppy-dog eyes, like a kid caught doing something wrong. 2 My boyfriend, Liam, was my best friend since kindergarten. He was always obsessed with being clean, but right now, he was covered in dust and blood. His usually neat hair was a total mess, his glasses were gone, and his eyes… they were glowing with this freaky, unnatural red light. I slowly walked towards him. He just stood there, looking completely lost. The virus had taken over his mind, but somehow, it seemed to strip away his usual guard, showing the real him underneath. Normally, you could never tell what Liam was thinking, but right now, his embarrassment was written all over his face. He suddenly turned, and I knew he was about to run. I darted forward and grabbed his shirt. He still tried to pull away, but I snapped, "Liam!" Ever since we were kids, me using his full name meant I was seriously mad, and he’d always, always drop everything to try and make me feel better. Even as a zombie, that hadn’t changed. But this time, his apology was in his actions. He stopped trying to run. I remembered I had some wet wipes in my backpack. I pulled one out and started gently wiping the blood and grime off his face. Liam obediently closed his eyes, letting me clean him up. His face was clean, so I started on his hands. But he’d clearly been wandering outside for a while. Some of the dirt was just too caked on; it would need a real wash. So, I brought him home. 3 It sounds completely insane, I know. I actually brought a zombie home. But he was Liam. My Liam, who would never hurt me. First thing I did when we got inside was double-bolt the door. Luckily, the outbreak hit in the evening about a month ago, so most of the zombies in our apartment building were probably trapped inside their own places. Still, you always had to watch out for surprise attacks – Survival 101. Door secured, I dug out some old clothes Liam had left at my place and led him to the bathroom. Turns out, even though some part of him was still human, he’d forgotten basic life skills. The blank stare he gave the showerhead told me everything I needed to know. This was going to be up to me. By the time we were done, he was spotless and fresh, and I was soaked to the bone, my face probably beet red. But I was still incredibly happy. My food stash at home was running low. I’d planned to risk a trip to the corner store downstairs today, maybe scavenge something. Instead, I found Liam. It was more than I could have hoped for. After a terrifying day, and being absolutely starving, I slept like a rock. Sometime deep in the night, I had a nightmare. I dreamed a zombie was biting me. I jolted awake and realized it was Liam, his arms wrapped around my neck, gnawing on my skin. He hadn’t broken the skin, just sort of… grinding, but I could see him swallowing reflexively. "Leo," I whispered, using his old nickname, my hand gently stroking his hair. "Are you trying to eat me?" "Rrrgh!" Hearing my voice, Liam shuddered violently, pushed me away, and scrambled out of the bedroom. "Leo!" I chased him into the spare room. He was huddled in the corner, his tall frame curled into a ball, ferociously biting his own hand. Skin tore, but not a single drop of blood fell. He was hungry, wasn't he? Hurting himself like this just so he wouldn't hurt me? My nose stung, and tears welled up. I rushed to the storage closet. I remembered a gag gift a friend gave me for my eighteenth birthday – one of those weird, Hannibal Lecter-style muzzles. It was supposed to be a joke, but now… I didn’t want to use something like this on Liam, I really didn’t. But I couldn't think of any other way to stop him from hurting himself. I found it and hurried back to the spare room. Liam growled at me. He couldn’t speak, couldn't tell me what he wanted, but his red eyes were filled with desperation and pain, begging me to stay away. I ignored it. Stubbornly, I walked closer and knelt in front of him. I carefully fitted the makeshift muzzle over his mouth. Liam reached out, his cold, grayish thumb trembling as it brushed the corner of my eye. That’s when I realized I was crying. I stayed in the room with Liam all night. As the sky turned a dim gray, I went out onto the balcony, my heart heavy as I looked out at the world. Everything had changed. Completely. Zombies roamed free, pushing humanity into smaller and smaller corners. Despair hung over the city like a shroud. The streets were stained with dried blood, littered with gruesome reminders of what people had become. It was horrifying. I glanced to my left and saw Mrs. Henderson, my neighbor, standing on her balcony in a white nightgown, just staring blankly at the ground below. I called out her name. She turned, and our eyes met. I wanted to say something encouraging, like we usually did, find some words of comfort. But before I could speak, she gave me a small, sad smile, climbed over the railing, and jumped. 4 A swarm of zombies instantly converged on her broken body below, tearing it apart. I could almost hear the sickening crunch and squelch of their teeth. Swallowing back nausea, I looked up at the sky. It wasn’t the first suicide I’d heard about. Not by a long shot. I knew Mrs. Henderson had reached her breaking point. Her husband went out for supplies last week and never came back. Three days ago, her only son left too. I'd overheard him promising her over and over that he’d return, saying he was fully geared up and would be fine. Then… nothing. Silence. "Rrrroargh!" Liam was growling in the spare room. I knew he was starving, but we didn't have any meat left. I didn’t want to die by his hands, but I couldn't let him leave either. I went back to him, adjusted the muzzle, and took his hand, just like I always used to. "Leo," I said, trying to sound normal. "Let's go find some food, okay? Can you try really, really hard not to… eat people?" I took Liam to the big supermarket downtown. Before leaving, I bundled myself up – layers of clothes, and then wrapped myself in thick layers of old newspaper and packing tape. Crude armor, but better than nothing. This was my third supply run. I hated going this far, but the small convenience store downstairs had been picked clean ages ago. The big supermarket was my only hope. When the virus first hit, a lot of people fled the city, heading for safer zones. But some, like me, were too scared to leave home, hunkered down, and missed the first wave of evacuations. Now, we were just trying to survive day by day. I wondered if any more rescue teams would ever come back for us. Liam followed me obediently, staying close like a loyal shadow. He didn't attack me, didn't wander off. When we encountered zombies, I used my modified fire axe to take them down – aiming for the head. But the closer we got to the supermarket, the more zombies there were. I was starting to get overwhelmed. Just as I was dealing with one in front of me, another lunged from the side, clamping its jaws onto my lower leg. I cried out, looking down. It was just the top half of a zombie, dragging its guts behind it, clawing its way up my pants. I reached for the boning knife I kept tucked in my belt, ready to plunge it into its skull. Before I could strike, its head snapped sideways with a sickening crack. I looked up into Liam's expressionless face. Zombies couldn't show much emotion, but somehow, I felt his worry radiating off him. "Leo, I'm okay! Look!" I stuck my leg out for him to see. "See? This newspaper armor actually works! I stuffed cotton padding inside too. It didn't even break the skin." "Come on," I said, patting his cheek. "Let's go shopping!" I led him straight down to the supermarket's basement level, where they usually kept the meat storage. There was still plenty of food down there. I took a deep breath and removed the muzzle from his face. It was incredibly risky – a starving Liam could easily turn on me. But I trusted him. I believed he wouldn't hurt me, just like how, even as a zombie, he’d instinctively protected me moments ago. Holding my breath, I held out a piece of raw pork towards his mouth, my eyes filled with hope. Liam hesitated for a long moment, then leaned forward and took a bite. His face remained blank. I couldn't tell if he liked it or not, but I saw his throat move as he swallowed. Relief washed over me, so strong I almost collapsed. I felt like I'd won the lottery. I offered him other things – raw beef, chicken. He ate them all. As long as it was raw meat, he seemed okay with it. I threw my arms around him, laughing and crying at the same time. His diet wasn't limited to humans! There was hope! 5 Liam was different from the other zombies. Not just because he recognized me and could control his urge to attack me, but crucially, because he could eat raw meat. Other zombies didn't seem to have either of these traits. My gut told me Liam's uniqueness had to be kept secret. People don't react well to anomalies, especially now. If anyone found out how different he was, they'd probably want to lock him up, study him… I’d seen enough movies and read enough books to know how that story goes. We grabbed as much meat and other supplies as we could carry and hurried back to the apartment building. As I reached our floor, I saw someone huddled by my neighbor's door. He looked up sharply as I came up the stairs, then relaxed slightly when he saw it was me, slumping back against the wall. He was covered in dried blood and grime, looking like he’d just survived a major fight. I stopped, stunned. "Ethan…?" It was Mrs. Henderson’s son. "Sarah? Is my mom out? Why won't she open the door?" My heart sank. Seeing his hopeful face, thinking about his mother's desperate leap from the balcony… I didn't know how to tell him. I remembered last year when he got into the state university. Just turned eighteen, so proud, his mom handing out little bags of candy at the building entrance, wanting everyone to share her joy. Now… this. God. Maybe he saw something in my face, because his expression started to change, hope draining away. "She went out, didn't she…? Didn't she? But I told her I’d come back! I promised her! Why… why didn't she believe me…?" He started muttering to himself, pure panic taking over his eyes. "Your mom… she didn't go out, Ethan…" His dull eyes flickered with a tiny spark. "I… I saw her this morning. She jumped from the balcony. She thought… she thought you weren't coming back. I'm so sorry…" The words felt like stones in my mouth. Ethan froze. He stopped talking, just stared at the floor, his head bowed. I didn't know what to say. Any words of comfort would sound hollow, useless. I thought he’d stay like that, lost in shock, but after a minute, he slowly stood up, picked up the makeshift weapon lying at his feet – looked like a sharpened pipe – and started walking towards the stairs, heading down. "Where are you going?" I called after him. His voice was raspy, broken. "Downstairs… to find my mom.
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