Authors: Carl Hose
I was going to have to find a different reward for his good behavior, though, because even I’m not fucked up enough to suck a stiff’s stiff. . . .
That Smell
No matter how crazy the world gets, we adapt, don’t we? Humans are good at adapting to just about any situation.
Most of us anyway.
There were a lot of suicides right after it happened. Some people thought it would be better to blow their heads off than to have some fucking dead thing rooting around inside their skull for a meal, but not me. Suicide ain’t my style. If they want me, they’re damn sure going to have to work to get me. I ain’t going down without a fight.
Fuckers are pretty damn slow. Stupid as hell too. That don’t mean they ain’t dangerous, don’t get me wrong. Like I said, you
adapt,
baby. You get used to it. I carry a 9 mm. with me all the time. I don’t sleep without it, I don’t eat without it, and I don’t take a dump without it. That’s the way it has to be. I’m used to it now.
I
adapted,
baby.
You wanna survive these days, you learn to live a whole new way. You get used to shit that wasn’t necessary before. I’ve gotten used to sleeping less. That’s when you have to worry about the shambling dead most. They got a way of creeping right up on you. I woke up once in the middle of the night with one of them leaning over me.
His face was pulpy gray run-off, his left eye was missing, and in the black hole where the eye had resided was a squirming camp of maggots. The fucker was about to make a snack of me, but I put a bullet between his one eye and the maggot-infested socket.
That’s the way it is. Get used to sleeping as little as possible. Get used to carrying a gun. Get used to not sitting too long in one place.
Adapt,
baby.
I still remember what it was like before the change, when life had some semblance of sanity, before the dead started to rise. It was a different world then, but just as dangerous. Only difference was, you had to worry about the live ones. The rapists, the muggers, the serial killers—all of ’em just as bad as the zombies are now, but we adapted to that world, we can adapt to this one too.
I’ve been thinking about settling down. Don’t know how easy it’ll be, but I’m going to try. I’ll find me a nice little room up high. The dead aren’t very good at stairs. I can rig up some locks and put a couple big bolts on the door. The dead ain’t so strong either. Most of ’em anyway. Pretty sure I’ll be safe. I’ll need to make a few adjustments, but I’ll get used to those too. If you wanna survive these days, that’s what you’ve got to do, and mostly I’m pretty good at it.
There’s just one thing I haven’t gotten used to yet in this new frontier. Don’t know if I ever will. It’s a thing that gets in your head and burrows down deep in your soul. It’s a thing that grabs you by the throat and doesn’t let go. I try to ignore it. I try to think of better things.
I try to
adapt
, but there’s just no way around that smell.