His face was badly decomposed, and I realized the winter had actually preserved these things. His grey skin was pulled back from his face, giving him a skeletal look. His head flopped as he came nearer, and I couldn’t figure out why. But his eyes were locked firmly on me and I believe I actually had a look into the hunger driving these creatures. It was a desperate look, a mindless look, a look that lacked intelligence but was full of purpose.

I decided not to use the rifle because for some reason I didn’t want to risk a shot. I looked quickly around and found a downed tree that had several stripped branches. I kicked off a four-foot section and approached my zombie. He had never stopped coming for me, but had gotten delayed when his pants ripped on a pine tree and were now down around his ankles. He was tripping every other step and falling down, but he just kept getting up and falling. Sad, really. I waited until he fell again then quickly stepped up and smashed him on the back of the head with the branch. Splinters flew everywhere, and I managed to drive his head into the soft ground, but I hadn’t finished him. His head was stuck in the mud, and his arms flailed about, searching for me even though his face was buried in the sticky forest floor. I drew my knife and punched it through his skull, quieting his thrashing forever. I noticed his neck had a huge bite out of it, exposing his backbone and that was what had caused his head to flop around.

I looked around and saw Charlie standing over his zombie, a woman in a tattered bathrobe. She actually had a few curlers in her hair, and her dead eyes stared blankly up at Charlie, who cleaned his knife off on the robe. I squished on over and used the terrycloth to clean my own blade after I had plunged it into the earth to remove most of the gunk.

“You ever see the movie Kung Fu Hustle?” Charlie asked.

I thought for a minute then laughed. “You’re right, that was like that scene with the Beast. Loved that movie.”