Read Online The Most Uncommon Cold I - Life in the Time of Zombies by Jeffrey Littorno - Free Book Online Page B

the events of the day, that would certainly be an understandable reaction. I reached out to touch her shoulder and try to comfort her.  At the instant I made contact with her, I realized that I had made a mistake. Her lips curled into a sort of snarl revealing a mouth full of bloody teeth with something stringy stuck in between. I immediately backed away from her. 
         “She needed a ride to the drugstore!”  She was now shouting with fury.  As she stood and spun around toward me, I caught a better look at what she was holding.  The sight made me gag.
         In her hands was the head of a young woman with long blonde hair. The stringy blood-soaked hair covered part of her face, but it was clear that a large chunk had been bitten out of her cheek, and her nose was missing. The thought that I had seen this face before heightened my disgust.  
        “Bonnie, what happened?”  I asked even as my feet were moving me away from her.
         She continued to stare blankly for several seconds before repeating, “She needed a ride to the drugstore.”
         Bonnie took a step toward me and let the head fall to the floor of the garage.  There was a soft thump like an overripe pumpkin landing. At the sound, she turned her focus to the floor. With surprising speed, she dropped to a squatting position and scooped up the head.  To my utter horror, she put her face down and took a bite out of the head. 
         My legs went weak, and I felt lik e someone had forcefully hit me in the chest.  I stumbled backwards for several feet.  Suddenly, reflexes kicked in and I found myself running away from the scene. 
         The sight of the Jeep offered an opportunity for sanctuary. I grabbed the keys from my pocket and pressed the button to unlock the car.  I managed to get the door open quickly and lunge into the driver’s seat.  The click sounded louder and more final that ever as I pushed the button to lock all of the doors.  As I sat there staring out through the windshield, my breathing began to slow as did my racing heart.
         I watched the thing that in some ways resembled my wife.  It had the same height and hair and skin, but that was all.  As the thing raised its face to lo ok in my direction,  I saw its cold, dead eyes and knew with all certainty it was not Bonnie.  In those eyes, there were no memories of days we had spent, trips we had taken, love we had shared, and pain we had caused.  No, no matter how much this thing resembled my wife, it was not her.
         I was surprised by the anger I felt welling up inside. This thing, which somehow had the audacity to impersonate Bonnie, became the focal point for all the disgust and horror and fury I had felt during the day.  I had never been overcome by such rage. 
         I started the car.  At the sound of the engine, the thing looked toward the Jeep.  As I revved the engine, the Bonnie-thing stood up and began slowly moving toward the car. Its face was now entirely covered with blood and bits of something darker.  Even as it moved, it was clear the thing was not actually thinking about what it was doing.  More like sleep walking.  No, that is not right.  It was thinking, but more like an animal than a human.  It reacted to the sound of the engine and simply began moving toward. It was more or less the same thinking of a moth as it is drawn to a flame.
         The Bonnie-thing stepped unsteadily toward me.  I continued to rev the engine, and the roar echoed through the garage. Then it began running toward me through the rows of cars. 
         I watched without emotion.  It was just something happening outside of the car.  It felt outside of my world. 
         My hand floated to the center console of the Jeep and to the handle of the gearshift.  The Bonnie-thing slapped the hood of the car on the passenger side and began to move toward me.  When it reached the middle of the hood, I pushed the gas pedal all the