It must be difficult to live life as a zombie. To have no hope. No dreams. To pretend of being of value to others only to suck all the good from them until there’s nothing left. It must be tough to have a false sense of purpose, treating humans as nothing more than a piece of meat.
Maybe you shouldn’t read this Monday Mayhem post. If you’re a zombie, I don’t know if you’d understand.
How can zombies live with themselves? Their moral compass is broken. They have no ability to see what they’re doing is wrong. Their loyalty lies in one thing—to fulfill their selfish inner craving they have festering in their putrid shell. What do they see when they look at themselves in the mirror? Do they see good? Do they see the pain they cause themselves and to others?
Zombies have their horde with which they commune. They’re all the same, though. Following the pack. Not thinking for themselves. Much of their undead life consists of roaming about seeking of whom they may devour. Sure, they have their dormant phases where they appear as if they’ve gotten better, hanging with their brothers and sisters in a quiet state of depression. But that doesn’t mean they’re harmless. Once they catch sight of another victim, nothing prevents them from kicking into full chase mode.
At least zombies have something to which humans can aspire. If anyone dares attack them, they don’t run. They don’t hide. They simply show their rotting teeth and hit their future kill at a time when it’s at its most vulnerable.
Unlike other carnivores, zombies will keep pursuing their quarry even after sustaining an injury. The undead may have lost an arm, a leg, the front part of their face, but they’ll do everything in their power to exhaust their victim until the victim can run no more.
When the evil predators finally catch their prey? They consume them while they’re still alive.
Then there’s the little matter of the zombie bite. All the undead has to do is snap and wait until the virus takes effect. If they can’t kill their target, they’ll do one better—make the target into one of them. What better way to guarantee the zombie culture will not die? The perfect plan.
I don’t know about you, but I’d rather remain human than become a maggot infested drain on civilization bent on destroying the good in people. Sounds to me like a lot of work to keep tabs on victims in order to ensure they’ll one day either become food for the miserable lot or part of the problem.
RANGER MARTIN AND THE ALIEN INVASION, on sale October 21.
Is there such a thing as a good zombie?