THE DEAD ZONE | COMPLETED

One Hundred Twenty Two |

One Hundred Twenty Two |

            This made me extremely nervous. This man summoned up a whole ass zombie bear that he now wanted us to ride. A bear! Like, I understood there was a point and time where I practically had to fist fight a zombie bear, but this? Totally different and more terrifying. It was also extremely sad. I hadn't given Barron's ability much thought before, but now looking at this black bear I felt extremely guilty.

            "Did you turn him?" I whispered, watching the American bear sit on it's bum.

            Barron shrugged, "Does it matter if it was me or not?"

            "I think so," I sighed, "I think it should matter."

            "But it doesn't," he replied, "Not really. In the dead zone nothing survives in the end. Nature fights like us humans, and sometimes it flourishes and sometimes it doesn't. If it makes you feel better, I can tell you I found the bear already turned by some half rotten zombie that could never hold it's own against a bear but you knew the truth before you asked. If I didn't turn him, we won't make it to the City of Ash in time. It's his life for the sake of our future."

            "Cruel," I muttered, my fingers brushing against the bear's matted fur, "Unfair."

            He nodded, "This world will always be unfair. But not only in our favor. Sometimes, nature is unfair to us, and sometimes we're unfair to nature. There's a balance Mira, for every animal I turn into a zombie, there's another out in the world being born. In this place stray dogs are invasive to the animals surviving, I bet you didn't know that."

            I paused, looking over at him, "No I didn't."

            "I know," he smirked, "But ever notice I have a never-ending supply of dogs? A few years ago it was so bad that no one could scavenge without being attacked by stray dogs. The dogs were faster than the zombies, hard to grab and fast enough to hunt anything that moved. My debt to the world is helping balance the pyramid of predators. Now get on the damn bear. We need to go."

            I nodded. He whistled and the bear got up. It was a small bear, definitely larger than Barron and myself but still smaller than the stereotypical bear. Barron mentioned something about American black bears being fast, and I just smiled and nodded. He got on first, and then I got on the bear behind him. My arms wrapping tightly around my unlikely ally and I sucked in my breathe. Then we were off.

            Barron's idea of a short cut it seemed, was riding the bear through the middle of the fucking city. My eyes bulged as we cut through horde after horde of zombie, but surprisingly, none turned our way. I knew I was to be ignored, but I was curious as to why they didn't pay Barron any attention. Still, I didn't dare speak, my eyes shutting tightly and the loud drowning noises of zombies moaning and groaning around us had bile rising in my stomach. My thighs squeezed the bear's sides tightly, and I flinched every time we brushed past a zombie.

            The bear was a savage. Not caring as he trampled over and through the horde, the sickening crunch of soggy bones and mushy flesh under us a memory that I knew would plague my mind forever. Not to mention the smell. I had never wondered what thousands of zombies would smell like, trapped in the ruined streets of a large city, baking internally under the sun—and now I prayed the scent would leave my body. It smelt like a sulfur bomb had gone off in a pile of hot garbage that had been boiling under the sun. I could feel the maggots flying from flesh, the scent of dried blood feasted on by wasps and flies alike for years on end.

            My fingers grasped Barron's waist so hard I knew my fingers turned white, I didn't care. All I cared about was escaping this disgusting place. After what felt like hours and hours trapped in a hell much greater than any pyro flames, we broke through the city line and into the forest.