A Rational Zombie

Chapter 23



Chapter 23

Fire. Fire is amazing. The smoke coming off of it attracts prey. Theres no need to move to hunt; the prey come to me. Ive copied the prey, suspending cans in the air with ropes. As long as prey think other prey live here, theyll come. Its safe. No one will hurt them. Prey are smart. But, sometimes, theyre dumb. Like others blindly attracted to smell and sounds, prey are blindly attracted to signs of other prey. Its wonderful. My food comes to me without the danger of hunting. But theres a problem. The prey come in groups of three to four. The others usually catch one or two, the rest escaping. Prey communicate with one another. What if the survivors inform other prey? Let them know that this region isnt safe?

Then Ill have to leave. But the fire, its hard to take. It burns, consumes everything. But it dies if it isnt fed. Wood is good, lasts for a long time. It can even transport fire a short distance before burning out. But it burns out, needing to be constantly fed. Then how did the prey have fire? If fire can only be created by more fire, where did the first fire come from? It doesnt make sense. The prey must have a way to create fire.

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There was one prey, it fell into a trap. The first living prey I caught and kept the others away from. Its leg was impaled. I spread rotten brains on it to prevent others from noticing the smell. It worked well. But when I placed wood in front of it, it didnt make a fire. Even when I pointed at the fire, it didnt understand what I wanted it to do. Being unable to speak is frustrating. And the prey collapsed soon after. It was breathing. But it wasnt moving. As if it were dead. A little similar to the others after they finish eating. Unresponsive to stimuli. And the next day, when the prey moved, it had turned into an other. I dont know why. It didnt die. It wasnt eaten. It didnt ask God. Is there something else that triggers the transformation? Perhaps I wasnt eaten before I lost my memories. Maybe I became an other due to something else. There arent any bite marks on me. But that doesnt mean anything. Injuries heal. My nails have grown back, the burnt skin from the fire regaining their color: pale, sickly gray.

And before I leave, theres something I have to take. The feathered-spike shooter. The weapon that almost killed me. It was dark, hard to see, its understandable I made a mistake. The feathered spikes werent thrown at me by a freakishly strong prey. It was shot at me with a tool. A curved wooden and metal stick with a rope tying its two ends together. I saw it in action when the others broke inside the cabin. And I took it after the prey died. It doesnt exclude the possibility of a freakishly strong prey existing. But in the case that one does, I can copy its strength with this tool. But I dont think it does. If prey like that existed, there wouldnt be so many others. Prey survive by living in groups, thinking, outwitting others. Not through pure strength.

The feathered-spike shooter is difficult to use. But as I use it more and more, it gets easier. Theres a notch on the stick portion to rest the feathered spike on. To launch the spike, I pull on the feathered end, pressing it into the rope. The rope doesnt like being pressed, wanting to return to its original position. When I release the end of the stick, stopping the pressing, the rope snaps back, the spike flying forward. It wasnt difficult to figure out how to use, having watched the prey use it. Perhaps making fire is the same, easy to create once the trick is discovered.

Ive tested the feathered-spike shooter on the others. Its not very good for killing, not yet. The prey was better with it than I am, able to aim at the others heads. But its difficult. Hitting an other, depending on the distance, maybe one in five shots will land. When I first started, it was one in twenty. The odds become five out of five if the other is right in front of me. But the metal stick is more useful at that point. And hitting the others head with the feathered-spike, impossible. One out of five to even hit the other. Its head is a tiny portion of its body, maybe a tenth. That means one out of fifty spikes will hit its head. I have twelve feathered spikes. Killing with the feathered-spike shooter is impossible. But thats a good thing. If prey die, their brains only last for so long. If prey live, their brains last longer. Injured prey are easier to catch alive, like the one caught in the trap. While the odds of killing prey is low with this weapon, its why Ill keep using it. Until I run out of feathered spikes. Theyre retrievable, reusableto a certain extent. They break after multiple uses.

I want to make more. But its puzzling. The feathers, I dont know where they come from. But the tip, the sharpened spikes, I know how to make those now. I do it with this tool, the one used to dig the traps. Not only is the metal end good for upending earth, its good for making spikes. Striking a piece of wood at an angle, the metal end shaves off the wood. Its slow, tedious, loud. But it works. I dont know for how long. After hitting a lot of wood with it, the metal dents, deforms, no shaves off pieces as well. Its much easier to gather the spikes from the dead others, reusing those, instead of creating new ones. Maybe prey know a better method. I shouldve waited, watched the prey more before invading. But I was scared. Scared of the hunger consuming me.

Clank, clank.

Speaking of hunger.

Hello?

Here comes more prey.


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