Chapter 61- Entanglement

He doesn't look dead, but he acts like every zombie I've seen in the movies. He lurches to one side as though his left leg doesn't work, and uncomfortable moans emit from a mouth that sags downward, as though he's been anesthetized. His skin is pale, slightly dirty, but otherwise unblemished, and he's wearing a tailored suit that fits his healthy physique well. I can tell he must have been successful before the virus mutated his DNA, because he's wearing cufflinks, expensive looking shoes and a very nice watch. He shambles closer to me and I back away, glancing behind me at the woman in the floral dress advancing from my rear.  She, too, looks healthy and active, her once attractive face wiped clean of all emotion and her eyes caked with the thick yellow film I've come to expect on every ghoul.  Unlike the man she doesn't limp, but whatever the virus has done to her DNA has altered her brains capacity for fine motor skills, and her steps are awkward and forced. Her cheek bones have sunken in a bit, as though she hasn't eaten in a while, and her simple dress and inexpensive flip flops indicates she probably comes from humbler circumstances than her undead counterpart in front of me. 

I step left, moving away from the car as silently as I can. As I do so I watch their faces shudder and follow me, adjusting their lumpy walks to compensate for my new direction. I still can't tell if they can see through that thick haze covering their eyes or if they are using smell and sound.  Perhaps, like me, they use all their senses, but only on a limited scale.  

I look around for something I can use as a weapon, anything long that will allow their swinging, searching arms from grasping me. This side of the highway is empty, the reason I chose it, and I regret that I ever made the decision to leap that barricade. 

I look back at the overturned truck, the contents spilled across the freeway in ruin. A camping chair would give me the distance I need, but would be awkward to hold.  A long shred of rope sits near it and I grab them both. I allow myself a moment of humor as I imagine myself using them as a lion tamer from the cartoons I watched as a child, pushing the monsters away from me with the chair while snapping the rope above their heads like a whip.  It was the best I could do for now.  

I quickly unfolded the chair and slung the long strap of the case over my shoulder. I would need this makeshift backpack in the future. I held the aluminum chair out in front of me and grasped the length of rope in the other hand. I forcefully thrust it downward, feeling like Indiana Jones as I heard the familiar crack of broken air. 

The man in the suit is almost upon me now, and I pushed the chair into his chest, forcing him to take a step backwards. He seemed angry by this and moved more aggressively toward me, ignoring the legs of the chair that blocked him from obtaining his quarry. I looked over at the woman and swung the chair to my right, guiding the stumbling man with it. Now they were both in front of me, a more manageable situation than bring surrounded. Their hands are inches from my face, and I can see dirt and debris caked under their nails. The smell of urine and feces combines with their breath to concoct one of the most putrid smells that has ever entered my nostrils.  I gag on the stench, instinctively stepping backwards to retreat from its probing aroma.  

I pull my right arm back and swing hard, watching as the rope curves around their necks and almost hits me in the face.  It sloughs off the chair and onto the ground, and I try again, hoping I could somehow tie them together to the chair, knowing that the odds are not in my favor.  The two push against the aluminum braces and scratch uselessly at the nylon. They seem oblivious to each other, and I have the momentary thought that they could have made a nice couple, if only they could find a way to communicate. I force away my smile and swing the rope again, this time watching as it falls perfectly in the hinge of the chair.  Like an expert fisherman I pull hard, locking the end of rope tightly in the elbow of the hinge.  I hold firm to the chair and watched as their two bodies squeeze together. As they realize their predicament on some subconscious level their movements become more frantic, and they lunge forward, more desperate to grab me. 

Three more are approaching from behind me, and I swing my newlywed couple toward them, creating an undead barricade between me and and the oncoming horde.  I glance behind me. Open road. With a gigantic push I force the entangled couple to their backs, turning to run as they fumble to release themselves from their bonds.  I turn and run as fast as I can, hoping that the road ahead will provide some rest from this nightmare.