A is For... 2/4
Title: A is For...
Pairing: USUK
Rating: M
Warnings: Violence and death and zombies
Summary: A might be dead, but his desire to protect Arthur might just be enough to make him remember how to be alive.
(Warm Bodies AU.)
This chapter: A tries to make Arthur comfortable.
I may be dead, but I know when a person needs their space. I wandered around the airport in hopes of distracting myself from the fact I brought home a living human. Granted, he was a very angry and emotional human, but I think anyone would be at this point. The problem is, I had no idea how to fix that.
After I failed to explain I wasn't going to eat him, Arthur remained curled up in his seat with horrified eyes and a rigid body. I guess my home wasn't home enough for Arthur no matter how many knickknacks I had in the cabin. It wasn't my fault that… Wait, yeah it was. I ate his brother and then dragged him into my zombie lair.
Okay, so it was my job as a host to make my guest comfortable. Again, I had no idea how to fix it. I looked for M. He's a good listener. M was riding an escalator, but it lurched to a sudden stop. The electricity was spotty in the airport. Sometimes it would be out for a few days or just a few hours. Until then, M would stand on the steps, waiting for his ride even though he could walk down the steps himself.
I walked up the steps of the opposing escalator, and stopped at the same level as M. He looked at me. What should I say?
Hey, so I've got some living dude back at my place, but get this, I don't wanna eat him! How do I get him to like me?
Yeah, that wouldn't go over real well. So, I did the only thing that came to mind.
"Uhn…" M nodded as if he understood. I don't think he actually did. I tried again. "Uh… Mmm…"
This wasn't good. M was just staring at me. So, I left. It was getting late. I should check on Arthur.
Once I made it back, Arthur scrambled back to his seat. I noticed he had been fiddling with my record player. Then, I noticed he was shivering. I moved past Arthur to dig in my stash of clothing. I once went on a clothing binge, hoping to find a suitable superhero outfit.
"What're you doing?" Arthur asked quietly from his seat. He had popped his head over the back of the headrest to watch me.
I then turned and draped a brown leather jacket over the front of Arthur's body. There was fur on the collar, and fur keeps people warm, right? Maybe Arthur would like it.
He looked at it strangely, but didn't throw it aside. "Um…thank you…"
It was as if he was having trouble understanding my gesture and forming words to thank me. It was nice to see even humans struggle with this kind of stuff. I wanted to smile, but then I realized I had forgotten something really important; mood music.
I moved to my record player. It was my prized possession. I found it in a store behind a shattered glass case. The store itself once sold numerous old vinyl. Like a rat, I took them all. I didn't know the musicians or cared. All I knew was that the music mattered.
I put a vinyl on and started the player. It was jazz.
You make me feel so young. You make me feel there are springs to be sprung, bells to be rung, and a wonderful fling to be flung. And even when I'm old and grey, I'm gonna feel the way I do today 'cause you, you make me feel so young.
Arthur was watching me. I closed my eyes and tried to dance to the song, but even I knew it was odd for a zombie to dance. When I opened my eyes, Arthur had the oddest expression on his face. I couldn't tell if he was scared or amused. Maybe both.
I stopped dancing. Quickly, I sat down in a seat behind me.
"I don't know what you are…," Arthur started with a soft voice. "…but you are certainly a strange one."
Arthur slept with a peaceful face. I wonder what he dreamt about. Us zombies don't dream. We don't sleep. We fade out of reality from time to time, but that ability to shut down our systems overnight is not a luxury we can afford. I think that's another superpower I'll never get.
I could still feel the mush of Rhye's brains in my pocket. I'd eat them now, but since Arthur was right there and he could wake up at any minute, I didn't want to risk it. There's nothing like seeing your date eat your brother's brains to put your nerves at ease.
Arthur awoke some time later. He pulled the jacket closer to his already tightly curled up body. Then, he saw me staring. He frowned. I looked away. Don't be creepy, I reminded myself.
"I'm hungry," Arthur said suddenly. "And, if I'm to be held here by you, the least you could do is be useful." Then, he added on, "Please. I'd be very grateful."
I guess living through the night was enough for him to realize I was being honest when I said I wouldn't eat him. I nodded, and then got up. Before I left, I turned to look at Arthur.
"S…stay… Nnot…sa…fe."
Arthur nodded. I left.
This was great! I could be of use to Arthur! He'd be so happy if I could bring him food! Of course, I didn't know what was good and what was spoiled. This was an airport, and there was plenty of food, but would any of it be actually any good? I hunted down a food court near me and investigated their refrigerators. Then, I grabbed an armful of different types of food and made a dash back home. Arthur was waiting for me! And M was still on his escalator.
Halfway back, though, I smelled tea; Arthur. He was outside. I dropped the food.
A small cluster of zombies were heading off towards an airplane that was sitting off to the far side of the tarmac. They'd find him soon, but I needed to be faster.
I saw his white collared shirt and blue jeans from afar. They weren't nearly as dirty as our raggedy clothes with blood staining them. He was crouched down low behind a plane's wheel, watching as I rushed to him. He looked a little relieved.
"I'm sorry," he hissed. I wasted no time as I smeared my black blood on his face. Again, Arthur looked uncomfortable. "Is this really necessary?"
I gave him a sniff. It was enough to fool everyone for now. While I don't heal like a human does, the flow of blood from my body had dried up since Arthur had stabbed me yesterday. The zombies were still coming, but they no longer looked crazed for food. They knew the scent of human was gone, or at least stifled, but they had no idea what was human and what was zombie. We had to get out of here, regardless.
I took Arthur's wrist, and we stood up together. "Be…dead…"
Arthur seemed hesitant. I moaned and took a few staggered steps. Arthur mimicked me with his arms out limply and loud, exaggerated moans. His head rolled to the side and he jerked and twitched his body forward.
I stared at him, unamused. "Too…much."
You don't see me being some stereotypical human. Never mind the fact that I can't, it was rude. But, it worked. The zombies passed by us. We were in the clear.
"Said…s…stay…," I mumbled.
Arthur sighed, irritated. "I know… But I can't stay here."
"Like…u…us." Arthur looked at me, startled. Wrong thing to say. "Sssmell…same…"
Arthur sighed in relief, dropping his hands and walking normal as we neared the plane. "Okay. I get it."
Before we got back to the plane, we stopped to pick up the food. Arthur wrinkled his nose at the moldy burger I had picked up. He left that one behind. Instead, he grabbed the can of preserved fruits. We made it back to the plane with no further interruptions. There, Arthur ate.
"Oh, this is so good." He closed his eyes with a blissful look on his face. I watched him in envy. Again, he seemed uncomfortable with my staring. "Um…I've been meaning to ask… How do you know my name?"
Uh oh. Shit. Make something up!
"H…heard s-someone…"
Arthur seemed satisfied. "It was probably my brother…" He saddened at this. "He…died. But…he wanted that. He died a long time ago, in his heart."
I watched the emotions play across Arthur's face. Some, I recognized such as sadness and pain, but others were too advanced for me to know. Maybe it was regret or guilt? I didn't know those feelings as I hadn't done anything I regretted. Okay, so I ate Arthur's brother, but he didn't know that. I am a zombie, after all. These things kind of happen.
"Rhye went through a lot. He always watched over me. Scott was too busy once dad died and left him in charge, and Emma… Well, she…" Arthur closed his eyes. The emotions reset. He opened his eyes again and looked at me with a hesitant smile. "So, I guess you're my protector now?"
I shrugged.
"Well, don't think I'm weak." Arthur puffed his chest out as if to seem bigger than he really was. "I can take care of myself. I had a plan to get out, you know. I just…sort of got caught."
I didn't believe him, so I shrugged instead.
"In any case, you know my name, but I don't know yours. What is your name, Mr. Zombie?" Arthur actually seemed interested. Too bad I had nothing of interest to give.
"A… A…," I struggled.
"A?" Arthur asked. I nodded. "You don't remember?"
I shrugged again. Arthur got up suddenly. "Well, then I shall just have to call you A. Now then, A, why do you have so many American things? You have a flag, that old WWII bomber jacket, comic books, old American memorabilia, currency, and jazz records. Were you once American? I, myself, am English, although all of the British Isles are submerged underwater."
I shrugged once more. Arthur grew frustrated. "You shrug too much. It's most unbecoming."
"Dead…too…," I mumbled.
Arthur smirked. "Yes, that too. Tell me, A, why so many American things?"
"Po…wer."
"Power? Hm, I guess America was powerful before the war and the plague. I was two when it collapse, so I don't remember much else about it other than what I hear from others. The UK had already fallen by then, and then sank. I think because America tried to help its allies first that it fell. And then you lot appeared. It's like you were the final nail in the coffin on humanity. Although, seeing you be so different makes me wonder if there are more of you."
I highly doubted it, but I said nothing. Arthur flipped through my comics and browsed my albums. I watched him all the while. I enjoyed how he moved. There was no hesitation, no jerking because his muscles didn't always cooperate. It was fluid and natural. I was unnatural.
He put on some jazz, and then began to dance. His hips swayed from side to side. It was as if a wave rolled up his body to his shoulders, moving them back and forth in rhythm with the music. I could never move like that. Still, I tried.
Arthur's back was to me. He moved his arms back and forth along with his hips, but when I did it, they flopped around like a dead fish. His head, like his body, swayed from side to side smoothly. Mine rocked hard from side to side as I jerked my hips forwards and back in a very odd and unsexy manner. This was worse than the white man's dance.
Then, Arthur turned around. He saw me. I stopped, almost as if I were embarrassed. Then, Arthur began to laugh loudly. I watched intently.
He was beautiful as life poured into his cheeks, shaking his body, and echoing about the cabin. It made me want to smile.
"You're not terribly good at this. Here, let me help you." Arthur took my wrist and began dancing again. "Relax a little. Loosen up some, like me."
I tried to follow along, but my eyes were watching his face too closely to really see how he moved. He was still smiling.
"How long do I have to be here?" Arthur asked that night. He lay in the aisle across from me with the jacket over his chest. I'd found an American flag that served as a blanket, but he still held onto the jacket.
"Few…days…"
Arthur bit his lower lip. His teeth were so white. I don't even want to know what mine looked like. I sucked in my lips to hide them.
Arthur noticed and frowned. "What's wrong? Are you…hungry?"
I shook my head. Then, I remembered Rhye's brains. Soon the memories would dissolve the longer the pieces sat in my pocket. I should eat them soon.
Arthur shifted, attracting my attention suddenly. "My brother, Scott, is probably over Rhye's death by now. He might even think I'm dead, unless Francis got home and told him you took me."
"Come…here?" I asked.
"No, I don't think so. There are too many of you. And he doesn't know exactly where I am." Arthur lie on his back. I followed suit. "A? Do you…know who killed my brother?"
Fuck!
"Mmm…"
"It doesn't matter, I guess. But…will he come back like you?"
"Nnno…"
"That's good, then. I don't want him to live a zombie life."
I turned my head sharply to look at Arthur. That was my phrase. That heavy thing in my chest thudded hard.
Arthur looked at me. He smiled softly. "Although, I wouldn't mind if he came back like you."
I wanted to say so much then. Zombies don't talk because I don't think they have anything to say. They don't want to. Just like the pull to meet deadlines, to make money, to do something with yourself that's defined by someone, talking has gone by the wayside. And yet, Arthur was there, across the aisle from me, and I couldn't express myself.
I got up and staggered into the cockpit. Arthur said nothing as I left. I sat down in the captain's seat. Slowly, I pulled out a piece of brain.
Teach me, I internally prayed.
I am twelve and running through a field of wildflowers. A girl with long hair, much in the same color as mine, is running freely beside me. She laughs loudly. The sun is warm.
And then, a year later, she is dead.
I stumble upon a zombie that is eating her neck. It looks up and sees me. I try to pull out my gun. The zombie gets up and charges me.
"Rhye!" It is Arthur. He is ten. He has a small hand gun and is racing to my side. "Rhye, look out!"
He shoots the zombie in the head. Scott has trained him well. But she is gone. Like mom and dad, Emma is now dead.
I am four, watching as Arthur sleeps. He is only just born. He is small, weak, and helpless. I take him into my arms.
"Why did you want to come into this world?" I ask. "There's nothing here. What can you do? You're better off dead."
Arthur wakes up in my arms. He looks up at me with green eyes. I cry.
I know a lot of zombies have gone to the city for the day, so I think it's okay for Arthur to come outside. He's slightly nervous. I smeared extra blood on his face, but he no longer looks put off by it. Rather, it's as if he's accepted that this is how things are. Still, he offers me a small smile.
I searched his eyes briefly. They are still the same as in Rhye's memories. He's lost so much. How is still so happy, even after all of this?
"Oh, A! Look!" Arthur found an apple red convertible Porsche. It's wedged underneath a baggage car, but is mainly undamaged. He climbed in the driver's seat. "Let's go for a ride! They left the keys!"
I got into the passenger side. It was surprising it still worked, and yet it roared to life. I clutched onto the seat as Arthur sped off. It's too fast for me. Arthur took his hands off of the wheel to hold them up into the air. I stared at him in fear. He laughed, and then put them back on the steering wheel.
"Do you want to try?" he asked.
I nodded slowly. All superheroes have vehicles, like the Bat mobile. This could be mine. Arthur, though, is not my sidekick. He is my Louis Lane (Arthur told me her name).
We started off slow and jerky, like me. Arthur was patient to explain that I drive with one foot and not two. He offered me a kind smile. I tried to give one back.
There was a warm bubble around us. In it, I am not dead. I am beautiful, like Arthur. I can smile and put my arm around his shoulder, and he'll lean into my touch. We'll be happy.
But Arthur pushed my hand away. His smile was forced and he doesn't meet my eyes. "Both hands on the wheel."
Oh well.
"A? Do you remember any of your life?" Arthur asked me suddenly. He had taken to reading me my comics. The pictures were even better with a story to go along with it.
I looked up and shook my head. "Just…A."
Arthur sighed sadly on my behalf. "That must hurt. All memories, even bad, are worth remembering. It's the only way to make it through each day. Sometimes I think nothing will change, and the world will die out. But… I don't know if that's good or bad. Rhye would say it's good. He hated humanity."
I was staring at Arthur when it hit me. Up until I met Arthur I had nothing worth remembering, and I couldn't recall a single part of my day. I just wandered every day, lost, lonely, and dead. We all do. There is no purpose to why we do. We just exist.
I wanted to tell Arthur all of this. I wanted to reach out and hold Arthur close as I babbled about this. Maybe even make him smile or laugh again.
"Yo…You… mem…ory," I tried.
Arthur tilted his head to the side. "I'm a memory?"
I nodded. Slowly, I touched my hand to my chest. I felt a thump under my hand where my heart was. Then, I reached out across to Arthur and put my hand on his heart. There was a steady beat in his chest.
Arthur looked at me in amazement. "A… I…"
He, like me, was unable to express how he felt.
Hoshiko2's cents: Thank you for all of the lovely follows and reviews. I appreciate it.
Pairing: USUK
Rating: M
Warnings: Violence and death and zombies
Summary: A might be dead, but his desire to protect Arthur might just be enough to make him remember how to be alive.
(Warm Bodies AU.)
This chapter: A tries to make Arthur comfortable.
I may be dead, but I know when a person needs their space. I wandered around the airport in hopes of distracting myself from the fact I brought home a living human. Granted, he was a very angry and emotional human, but I think anyone would be at this point. The problem is, I had no idea how to fix that.
After I failed to explain I wasn't going to eat him, Arthur remained curled up in his seat with horrified eyes and a rigid body. I guess my home wasn't home enough for Arthur no matter how many knickknacks I had in the cabin. It wasn't my fault that… Wait, yeah it was. I ate his brother and then dragged him into my zombie lair.
Okay, so it was my job as a host to make my guest comfortable. Again, I had no idea how to fix it. I looked for M. He's a good listener. M was riding an escalator, but it lurched to a sudden stop. The electricity was spotty in the airport. Sometimes it would be out for a few days or just a few hours. Until then, M would stand on the steps, waiting for his ride even though he could walk down the steps himself.
I walked up the steps of the opposing escalator, and stopped at the same level as M. He looked at me. What should I say?
Hey, so I've got some living dude back at my place, but get this, I don't wanna eat him! How do I get him to like me?
Yeah, that wouldn't go over real well. So, I did the only thing that came to mind.
"Uhn…" M nodded as if he understood. I don't think he actually did. I tried again. "Uh… Mmm…"
This wasn't good. M was just staring at me. So, I left. It was getting late. I should check on Arthur.
Once I made it back, Arthur scrambled back to his seat. I noticed he had been fiddling with my record player. Then, I noticed he was shivering. I moved past Arthur to dig in my stash of clothing. I once went on a clothing binge, hoping to find a suitable superhero outfit.
"What're you doing?" Arthur asked quietly from his seat. He had popped his head over the back of the headrest to watch me.
I then turned and draped a brown leather jacket over the front of Arthur's body. There was fur on the collar, and fur keeps people warm, right? Maybe Arthur would like it.
He looked at it strangely, but didn't throw it aside. "Um…thank you…"
It was as if he was having trouble understanding my gesture and forming words to thank me. It was nice to see even humans struggle with this kind of stuff. I wanted to smile, but then I realized I had forgotten something really important; mood music.
I moved to my record player. It was my prized possession. I found it in a store behind a shattered glass case. The store itself once sold numerous old vinyl. Like a rat, I took them all. I didn't know the musicians or cared. All I knew was that the music mattered.
I put a vinyl on and started the player. It was jazz.
You make me feel so young. You make me feel there are springs to be sprung, bells to be rung, and a wonderful fling to be flung. And even when I'm old and grey, I'm gonna feel the way I do today 'cause you, you make me feel so young.
Arthur was watching me. I closed my eyes and tried to dance to the song, but even I knew it was odd for a zombie to dance. When I opened my eyes, Arthur had the oddest expression on his face. I couldn't tell if he was scared or amused. Maybe both.
I stopped dancing. Quickly, I sat down in a seat behind me.
"I don't know what you are…," Arthur started with a soft voice. "…but you are certainly a strange one."
Arthur slept with a peaceful face. I wonder what he dreamt about. Us zombies don't dream. We don't sleep. We fade out of reality from time to time, but that ability to shut down our systems overnight is not a luxury we can afford. I think that's another superpower I'll never get.
I could still feel the mush of Rhye's brains in my pocket. I'd eat them now, but since Arthur was right there and he could wake up at any minute, I didn't want to risk it. There's nothing like seeing your date eat your brother's brains to put your nerves at ease.
Arthur awoke some time later. He pulled the jacket closer to his already tightly curled up body. Then, he saw me staring. He frowned. I looked away. Don't be creepy, I reminded myself.
"I'm hungry," Arthur said suddenly. "And, if I'm to be held here by you, the least you could do is be useful." Then, he added on, "Please. I'd be very grateful."
I guess living through the night was enough for him to realize I was being honest when I said I wouldn't eat him. I nodded, and then got up. Before I left, I turned to look at Arthur.
"S…stay… Nnot…sa…fe."
Arthur nodded. I left.
This was great! I could be of use to Arthur! He'd be so happy if I could bring him food! Of course, I didn't know what was good and what was spoiled. This was an airport, and there was plenty of food, but would any of it be actually any good? I hunted down a food court near me and investigated their refrigerators. Then, I grabbed an armful of different types of food and made a dash back home. Arthur was waiting for me! And M was still on his escalator.
Halfway back, though, I smelled tea; Arthur. He was outside. I dropped the food.
A small cluster of zombies were heading off towards an airplane that was sitting off to the far side of the tarmac. They'd find him soon, but I needed to be faster.
I saw his white collared shirt and blue jeans from afar. They weren't nearly as dirty as our raggedy clothes with blood staining them. He was crouched down low behind a plane's wheel, watching as I rushed to him. He looked a little relieved.
"I'm sorry," he hissed. I wasted no time as I smeared my black blood on his face. Again, Arthur looked uncomfortable. "Is this really necessary?"
I gave him a sniff. It was enough to fool everyone for now. While I don't heal like a human does, the flow of blood from my body had dried up since Arthur had stabbed me yesterday. The zombies were still coming, but they no longer looked crazed for food. They knew the scent of human was gone, or at least stifled, but they had no idea what was human and what was zombie. We had to get out of here, regardless.
I took Arthur's wrist, and we stood up together. "Be…dead…"
Arthur seemed hesitant. I moaned and took a few staggered steps. Arthur mimicked me with his arms out limply and loud, exaggerated moans. His head rolled to the side and he jerked and twitched his body forward.
I stared at him, unamused. "Too…much."
You don't see me being some stereotypical human. Never mind the fact that I can't, it was rude. But, it worked. The zombies passed by us. We were in the clear.
"Said…s…stay…," I mumbled.
Arthur sighed, irritated. "I know… But I can't stay here."
"Like…u…us." Arthur looked at me, startled. Wrong thing to say. "Sssmell…same…"
Arthur sighed in relief, dropping his hands and walking normal as we neared the plane. "Okay. I get it."
Before we got back to the plane, we stopped to pick up the food. Arthur wrinkled his nose at the moldy burger I had picked up. He left that one behind. Instead, he grabbed the can of preserved fruits. We made it back to the plane with no further interruptions. There, Arthur ate.
"Oh, this is so good." He closed his eyes with a blissful look on his face. I watched him in envy. Again, he seemed uncomfortable with my staring. "Um…I've been meaning to ask… How do you know my name?"
Uh oh. Shit. Make something up!
"H…heard s-someone…"
Arthur seemed satisfied. "It was probably my brother…" He saddened at this. "He…died. But…he wanted that. He died a long time ago, in his heart."
I watched the emotions play across Arthur's face. Some, I recognized such as sadness and pain, but others were too advanced for me to know. Maybe it was regret or guilt? I didn't know those feelings as I hadn't done anything I regretted. Okay, so I ate Arthur's brother, but he didn't know that. I am a zombie, after all. These things kind of happen.
"Rhye went through a lot. He always watched over me. Scott was too busy once dad died and left him in charge, and Emma… Well, she…" Arthur closed his eyes. The emotions reset. He opened his eyes again and looked at me with a hesitant smile. "So, I guess you're my protector now?"
I shrugged.
"Well, don't think I'm weak." Arthur puffed his chest out as if to seem bigger than he really was. "I can take care of myself. I had a plan to get out, you know. I just…sort of got caught."
I didn't believe him, so I shrugged instead.
"In any case, you know my name, but I don't know yours. What is your name, Mr. Zombie?" Arthur actually seemed interested. Too bad I had nothing of interest to give.
"A… A…," I struggled.
"A?" Arthur asked. I nodded. "You don't remember?"
I shrugged again. Arthur got up suddenly. "Well, then I shall just have to call you A. Now then, A, why do you have so many American things? You have a flag, that old WWII bomber jacket, comic books, old American memorabilia, currency, and jazz records. Were you once American? I, myself, am English, although all of the British Isles are submerged underwater."
I shrugged once more. Arthur grew frustrated. "You shrug too much. It's most unbecoming."
"Dead…too…," I mumbled.
Arthur smirked. "Yes, that too. Tell me, A, why so many American things?"
"Po…wer."
"Power? Hm, I guess America was powerful before the war and the plague. I was two when it collapse, so I don't remember much else about it other than what I hear from others. The UK had already fallen by then, and then sank. I think because America tried to help its allies first that it fell. And then you lot appeared. It's like you were the final nail in the coffin on humanity. Although, seeing you be so different makes me wonder if there are more of you."
I highly doubted it, but I said nothing. Arthur flipped through my comics and browsed my albums. I watched him all the while. I enjoyed how he moved. There was no hesitation, no jerking because his muscles didn't always cooperate. It was fluid and natural. I was unnatural.
He put on some jazz, and then began to dance. His hips swayed from side to side. It was as if a wave rolled up his body to his shoulders, moving them back and forth in rhythm with the music. I could never move like that. Still, I tried.
Arthur's back was to me. He moved his arms back and forth along with his hips, but when I did it, they flopped around like a dead fish. His head, like his body, swayed from side to side smoothly. Mine rocked hard from side to side as I jerked my hips forwards and back in a very odd and unsexy manner. This was worse than the white man's dance.
Then, Arthur turned around. He saw me. I stopped, almost as if I were embarrassed. Then, Arthur began to laugh loudly. I watched intently.
He was beautiful as life poured into his cheeks, shaking his body, and echoing about the cabin. It made me want to smile.
"You're not terribly good at this. Here, let me help you." Arthur took my wrist and began dancing again. "Relax a little. Loosen up some, like me."
I tried to follow along, but my eyes were watching his face too closely to really see how he moved. He was still smiling.
"How long do I have to be here?" Arthur asked that night. He lay in the aisle across from me with the jacket over his chest. I'd found an American flag that served as a blanket, but he still held onto the jacket.
"Few…days…"
Arthur bit his lower lip. His teeth were so white. I don't even want to know what mine looked like. I sucked in my lips to hide them.
Arthur noticed and frowned. "What's wrong? Are you…hungry?"
I shook my head. Then, I remembered Rhye's brains. Soon the memories would dissolve the longer the pieces sat in my pocket. I should eat them soon.
Arthur shifted, attracting my attention suddenly. "My brother, Scott, is probably over Rhye's death by now. He might even think I'm dead, unless Francis got home and told him you took me."
"Come…here?" I asked.
"No, I don't think so. There are too many of you. And he doesn't know exactly where I am." Arthur lie on his back. I followed suit. "A? Do you…know who killed my brother?"
Fuck!
"Mmm…"
"It doesn't matter, I guess. But…will he come back like you?"
"Nnno…"
"That's good, then. I don't want him to live a zombie life."
I turned my head sharply to look at Arthur. That was my phrase. That heavy thing in my chest thudded hard.
Arthur looked at me. He smiled softly. "Although, I wouldn't mind if he came back like you."
I wanted to say so much then. Zombies don't talk because I don't think they have anything to say. They don't want to. Just like the pull to meet deadlines, to make money, to do something with yourself that's defined by someone, talking has gone by the wayside. And yet, Arthur was there, across the aisle from me, and I couldn't express myself.
I got up and staggered into the cockpit. Arthur said nothing as I left. I sat down in the captain's seat. Slowly, I pulled out a piece of brain.
Teach me, I internally prayed.
I am twelve and running through a field of wildflowers. A girl with long hair, much in the same color as mine, is running freely beside me. She laughs loudly. The sun is warm.
And then, a year later, she is dead.
I stumble upon a zombie that is eating her neck. It looks up and sees me. I try to pull out my gun. The zombie gets up and charges me.
"Rhye!" It is Arthur. He is ten. He has a small hand gun and is racing to my side. "Rhye, look out!"
He shoots the zombie in the head. Scott has trained him well. But she is gone. Like mom and dad, Emma is now dead.
I am four, watching as Arthur sleeps. He is only just born. He is small, weak, and helpless. I take him into my arms.
"Why did you want to come into this world?" I ask. "There's nothing here. What can you do? You're better off dead."
Arthur wakes up in my arms. He looks up at me with green eyes. I cry.
I know a lot of zombies have gone to the city for the day, so I think it's okay for Arthur to come outside. He's slightly nervous. I smeared extra blood on his face, but he no longer looks put off by it. Rather, it's as if he's accepted that this is how things are. Still, he offers me a small smile.
I searched his eyes briefly. They are still the same as in Rhye's memories. He's lost so much. How is still so happy, even after all of this?
"Oh, A! Look!" Arthur found an apple red convertible Porsche. It's wedged underneath a baggage car, but is mainly undamaged. He climbed in the driver's seat. "Let's go for a ride! They left the keys!"
I got into the passenger side. It was surprising it still worked, and yet it roared to life. I clutched onto the seat as Arthur sped off. It's too fast for me. Arthur took his hands off of the wheel to hold them up into the air. I stared at him in fear. He laughed, and then put them back on the steering wheel.
"Do you want to try?" he asked.
I nodded slowly. All superheroes have vehicles, like the Bat mobile. This could be mine. Arthur, though, is not my sidekick. He is my Louis Lane (Arthur told me her name).
We started off slow and jerky, like me. Arthur was patient to explain that I drive with one foot and not two. He offered me a kind smile. I tried to give one back.
There was a warm bubble around us. In it, I am not dead. I am beautiful, like Arthur. I can smile and put my arm around his shoulder, and he'll lean into my touch. We'll be happy.
But Arthur pushed my hand away. His smile was forced and he doesn't meet my eyes. "Both hands on the wheel."
Oh well.
"A? Do you remember any of your life?" Arthur asked me suddenly. He had taken to reading me my comics. The pictures were even better with a story to go along with it.
I looked up and shook my head. "Just…A."
Arthur sighed sadly on my behalf. "That must hurt. All memories, even bad, are worth remembering. It's the only way to make it through each day. Sometimes I think nothing will change, and the world will die out. But… I don't know if that's good or bad. Rhye would say it's good. He hated humanity."
I was staring at Arthur when it hit me. Up until I met Arthur I had nothing worth remembering, and I couldn't recall a single part of my day. I just wandered every day, lost, lonely, and dead. We all do. There is no purpose to why we do. We just exist.
I wanted to tell Arthur all of this. I wanted to reach out and hold Arthur close as I babbled about this. Maybe even make him smile or laugh again.
"Yo…You… mem…ory," I tried.
Arthur tilted his head to the side. "I'm a memory?"
I nodded. Slowly, I touched my hand to my chest. I felt a thump under my hand where my heart was. Then, I reached out across to Arthur and put my hand on his heart. There was a steady beat in his chest.
Arthur looked at me in amazement. "A… I…"
He, like me, was unable to express how he felt.
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