Free Fiction Friday

Carl the Zombie (excerpt)

a penny dreadful

by Michael Yoder

Copyright 2021, Michael Yoder

One morning, Carl was visiting his friend Helen. He was quietly drinking coffee and reading the newspaper at her kitchen table. He noticed a short article about a new virus that was causing great havoc across the country.

Suddenly, from just outside the kitchen there came a terrible scream!

"AAAAHHHHH!!!". It was Helen.

Startled, he threw down the newspaper and called out. "Helen?! What's the matter? What's happened?!"

Helen answered from the hallway. "You're a zombie!"

Carl chuckled, "I'm not a zombie, Helen."

"You are a zombie! Here, look."

Carl could only see her arm as she tossed a small compact onto the kitchen table. He picked up the compact and opened it slowly.

There in the mirror he saw himself. He was ashen grey and his eyes were bloodshot. His cheeks were sunken and drawn, and most of his hair was withered and gone. He'd put on a brand new shirt that morning, but it was in tatters now as though he'd been tossed about in a mud pit.

"Oh, dear," he muttered. "I suppose I am a zombie."

"Yes!" cried Helen. "And you're going to eat my brain!"

"Helen, how long have we been friends?" asked Carl.

"At least ten years."

"Do you really suppose that I'm going to eat your brain?"

Helen hesitated a moment, then answered. "But that's what zombies do!" And she let out another horrible shriek.

Carl attempted to remain calm. "Helen, I'm not going to eat your brain."

"Yes!" she cried. "Yes! You'll eat my brain!"

"Helen, I'm not going to eat your brain for heaven's sake. I'm a vegan!"

There was a pause as Helen thought about it.

"Perhaps you're right about that, but I think you should leave, regardless. I have to - to - to do the laundry."

Carl heard the door to her basement open and slam shut. He sighed, drank the last few gulps of coffee and headed out her back door to the street.

It was a bright June morning. The air was fresh with the promise of Summer on its way. Carl opened the gate and what he saw turned from lovely morning into something from a horror movie. All up and down the street were zombies wandering aimlessly. Some of the younger ones were sending text messages on their smart phones. Others were pulling people out of parked cars and feasting on their innards or brains. Even some others were just chatting amongst themselves. He wandered towards a group of elderly women zombies, hoping to find out more about this calamity that had befallen them.

"Excuse me?" he said.

"Yes?" answered one of the old women.

"Can you tell me what's going on?" he asked.

"Are you daft?!" said one woman.

"We're zombies! It's that virus thing. And to think, this morning when I got up to make my George his breakfast (George is my husband), everything was fine whilst I was fixing his eggs and then suddenly I had the urge to split his head open and eat his brain. I was a little upset at first, mind you, but he tasted so good. I have a pot him stewing for supper this evening. He was rather a large man so I'm sure to have leftovers and I don't believe I have enough Tupperware to save the lot of it."

"I can help with that, Mabel. I have plenty of containers," answered another.

Carl felt quite ill at the thought of consuming one's spouse, but at this point it was all seeming to be relative to the situation.

Just then a young boy rode by on a bicycle and the women immediately converged on him, pulled him to the ground and started to feed.

"Well, um, thank you ladies," Carl said excusing himself. "You've been most helpful."

Carl may have become a zombie, but he hadn't lost his manners.