You might enjoy this story more if you read Hectic first!

The Story

He entertained himself quite a bit by randomly sowing seeds from his now mostly useless bug-out-bag whenever he spotted good dirt.

“Johnny-zombie-seed, they’ll call me,” he chuckled, patting the small mound of soil affectionately.

The vulture was not amused. It pecked at Todd’s legs until he stood and re-shouldered his pack.

“Alright, alright,” Todd dug his right forefinger and thumb into his left brachialis, “here ya go, bud.” He held the bit of muscle and skin aloft, felt the familiar clamp of a strong beak on his finger tips as the creature settled onto his shoulders. Thinking for a moment on the nature of fate, he found it funny that he had learned all these body parts, not for saving himself or anyone else like he prepared, but to know what he was serving his feathery friend.

“We’re gonna need to find another squirrel or something soon. I actually don’t know how functional I’ll be without some of these,” he tentatively flexed his left arm. It still moved up as told, but with a little hitch.

“And we still have a ways to go.”

He pulled a small notebook from the pack’s side pocket. On it he’d written all of the places he thought might be interesting to see on the continent: Redwoods, Everglades, Library of Congress, Mississippi River, Niagara Falls, Denali Point, Yellowstone Park… He planned to venture down to South America when he was done. And he really wanted to see Mount Everest, Victoria Falls, the Great Barrier Reef too. But he wasn’t exactly sure how an undead might traverse the ocean. He’d experimented accidentally in water before and yes, he still floated. But he imagined with a rigged set of weights and drowning no longer a concern, walking from one continent to another was technically an option. Except for the absence of a guidance system. And Todd did not think it a fun idea to get lost puttering around on the ocean floor until the sun exploded. So he planned to deal with those traveling plans later and enjoy what he could more easily reach in the meantime.

Turns out Ol’ Faithful was indeed pretty faithful, still putting on her display without anyone to watch. Long after some fire or another seemed to have swallowed most of her surrounding national park, she was still quite the beauty he thought. He’d loved the Redwoods as much as he had as a child camping with his father. But the Grand Canyon had bored him. He supposed its grandness may have been more captivating when one had the threat of falling to their death or even a notion towards the passage of time, neither of which really concerned Todd anymore.

His loyal companion had seemed to enjoy the ride as well. Often they’d walk as a single oddly hulking figure, vulture tucked into the top of Todd’s backpack. Sometimes it took off and flew for a while before returning, either with a snack or simply stretched wings. A few times, the fowl had disappeared for a whole day or so but it always caught back up, often with dried sludge on its beak.

Todd didn’t much have a route he was taking. It was more “head towards the next interesting thing” while avoiding packs of humans, whether dead or still alive. He’d learned the hard way that avoidance was best.

His first encounter with his fellow zombies had gone rather dreadfully. He assumed that since they were one and the same, they wouldn’t be bothering him much. He even lifted a decaying hand in polite wave.

However, they clearly did not feel that same brotherhood.

They, for they did move as a lumbering herd, steered themselves towards him and began to speed up. At first Todd hadn’t moved away because he thought maybe they were coming to introduce themselves, perhaps? Were these beings also unsure what to do with themselves now that the work of survival was done? The vulture hopped off him and flew towards the group, distracting a few by smelling alive as it plucked yummy pieces from their unflinching bodies.

Then the herd had started growling.

“Well, that seems unnecessary. Unless that’s your only form of communication, in which I apologize. But I-“

Close enough now to see the hunger in their dry eyes, he took off in an uncoordinated jog. When he got to a safe distance past several buildings and in the shade of a tall oak, he paused. Did his gut feeling that had kept him safe all his life not work when there were no guts?

He admonished himself for taking such a chance, even though he still wasn’t entirely sure of the horde’s intentions. What could they possibly have wanted from him that they couldn’t take from each other? He shook his head, and with the vulture back on his shoulder he took off once more.

The run-in with the alive humans had been much more unsettling. He’d come across them quite by accident when he was passing through the weedy fields of what he’d thought was an abandoned farm. He figured he’d just walk on by, maybe pet the pigs on the way, nab a piglet for the vulture.

It occurred to him too late why the pigs were still in a pen at all.

“GET ITS HEAD! SHOOT IT IN THE HEAD!”

“No I’m not going to eat you, I’m just lost-“

“THE HEAD, SARAH!”

“Please, I just…” he’d attempted to lumber away quickly. Several fast footsteps were drawing in behind him as his friend screeched wildly in the sky.

Then miraculously, Todd’s hastened retreat resulted in a clumsy trip, a missed hand grab on a tall bank, and falling into a river. This is when he learned he did indeed still float, but that he had not gained the ability to swim. Apparently one needed to learn such things while alive. So he wrestled himself onto his back, and allowed the current to pull him in whatever direction the river was choosing.

He briefly heard a “Did that one talk?” from high above and a “no, damn Sarah, we have to get you out of the sun” just before the noisy water drowned everything out.

He floated along, thankful again to Whoever Was Up There, because although he had not quite settled on the best way to leave this world, he didn’t think seeing angry, terrified farmers in his last moments is what he wanted.

When the river deposited him on a different bank several miles away, the vulture only took a little over an hour to catch up.

Since then, Todd had avoided anything remotely human-looking by skirting around towns and hiding when there was any chatter in the wind. It just was not worth the hassle.

Near the end of another day, the odd pair came upon what looked to be a red dessert.

“I think we’re in Wyoming, friend. Might be Utah but I do think we successfully headed northeast. The Devil’s Tower monument should be around here somewhere. Maybe in the morning we’ll find it and become rock climbers, huh?”

The bird squorked in disagreement. Why climb when one can fly? it seemed to huff.

“Yeah, yeah,” Todd settled them into shallow cavern in one of the shorter rock faces. Along the walls, lit barely by sunset’s last rays, were scrawls of humans long gone: Evan and Trudy 4ever, Kai was here!, Eleanor + Lu 1997. He ran his fingers across the markings. Once, while on a field trip to some sort of mine when he was in elementary school, his teacher had threatened that anyone who carved their name into a tree or a rock would be in detention until she retired.

It is a desecration of historical nature by delinquents! she’d hooted, cheeks puffy red, and her class would NOT be among them!

Now, Todd felt oddly thankful for these rebels who had escaped their teacher’s or parents’ eye. Sure, he thought, they scraped away stone that had stood for billions of years, and that was kind of uncool. But isn’t that what cave people had been praised for? Wasn’t he echoing that same archeological sentiment right now, feeling pangs of one-ness with people who were, statistically, gone?

He sat down against the cool stone. These dead days, philosophical questions seemed to stir in Todd more than they ever had in life. He simply hadn’t had the time before! He worked hard and had enjoyed his simple life of good coffee and mystery novels. He’d never asked for more, yearned for more, even thought about what more might mean.

And yet he had no regrets. There was no romantic partner he wished he’d held onto. No dramatic parting he wished he’d done differently. In each of his moments, he’d reasoned he’d done what he could. He was still mostly proud of the quiet life he lived.

Just perhaps now that his mind had all this time to wonder as he wandered, it was poking in all those untouched crevices of his synapses.

“Watch, now that there’s no one to tell,” he reached out and softly petted his friend’s leathery head, “I’m going to figure out the meaning of life.”

The vulture gave him an unconvinced stare, then rustled itself onto the pack for the evening. It finished with a gargled huff in his direction.

Yeah, right.

The Word

Placid (adjective): 1. Of a person or animal, not easily upset or excited. 2. Especially of a place or stretch of water, calm and peaceful, with little movement or activity.

I told y’all I love Todd and his vulture friend, and that he’d probably be back! And back he is. I wasn’t sure where Todd was headed next, so I thought this time we’d just follow him and see where he was going, just for the joy of writing. I’ve really enjoyed building his world out a little bit more, and I hope you’re enjoying the exploration as well.

Sometimes things don’t have to be complicated with a dozen meanings, they can just be whatever they turn out to be 🙂

Happy reading!