Dead Alive (Walking Dead x Walker!Reader) Ch 3

 Chapter 3: Possible Friend?




 I walked on...no sorry. I droned on, each step as a turtle step as I "attempted" to walk like a normal human being. I was doomed now. There was no need for help. How was I going to get any now?

 I was "dead". There's no way people are going to help me if I appeared "dead" to them. How would I even tell them that I'm not dead?

 Talking wouldn't help as much since it's just grumbles and growls of how hungry you are. Running/walking to them makes it worse since people are going to freak out over you running after them.

 Writing? If only I had a pen and a paper, maybe, but how was I even going to communicate with that? I could hear all of the, what if it's stalling us already voices. Like a zombie really was smart enough to stall someone with the use of its writing. Could it be?

 I shook my head. I was doing nothing but battling thoughts all day in my head. It was driving me crazy as much as the hunger growing in my stomach. What could I do just to find out what was going on? I needed someone to examine me. Someone to tell me if I was dreaming or something.

 If this really was a dream, then I guess it must be a living nightmare as they say.

 I didn't even know where I was going. I passed a couple of houses and residences. Most of them were filled with zombies, all walking around, looking at one another and unsure what to do. A couple of times, I would pretend to join them and act like I was bored too. Only it ended up being really boring.

 Just walking, stumbling, glancing, repeat. I did try to see if I could "communicate" again. I would hiss and growl, acting like as if we were still human. They just continued to walk on or turn their heads to question my "talking." So then I walked away and droned off.

 However, it seemed that I could of been food for the zombies as well. I happened to pass one zombie who kept sniffing me a lot. It waved its head wildly and traveled its nose on my arm.

 I glared at the zombie and growled. The zombie glowered back at me and snarled. It started thrashing and roaring, gnashing its teeth. I then growled at it back, hoping to fend it off. The zombie then growled again and sniffed once more. It wrinkled its nose and then walked away.

 That was one of the weirdest things I'd saw. Well, technically, was I alive still then? I got the whole still somehow being able to control myself but now this? So did it mean that my brain was fighting the infection still?

 Whatever though. As long as I remained appearing as a "dead" person, there was no way I would get help. Nope. It's better off just to "pretend" to be dead or out of the humans' way. I mean, if I were human, I would shoot them too. Then again, what if I could see through their eyes what they saw?

 The pain they had? Just like the one in the park...if only they knew how we felt...if I was one of them...




 As I stumbled on, I ended up arriving in a forest like area. The tall trees covered the sunlight, blocking its rays from my view. That was good though. A couple times, I had some problems trying to see with the sun so bright. It was like a lamp shoved directly in front of your face. Its beams were that powerful.

 The forest consisted still of its greenery of the trees, grass and leaves. I smiled.

 I remembered this place. Dad use to drive us here to go fishing. We would all gather our camping gear in case Dad felt like we had to have a camping day and we would arrive at the little lake. My sister, Bria, would usually have a fit about this. She always used to reel back the hook and try to beat my brother and me. My brother would also get upset due to the fact that usually his fish got away with the worm.

 I had my troubles too but I always happened to somehow reel a fish in. Dad would smile and say good job.

 When it was camping day, it was the best. We would travel up around the forest, looking for wood and stones to build a fire. Sometimes, we tried to track animals by as Dad would say, by their droppings.

 Once we found a squirrel nest. It was up in a tree full of leaves and twigs. There seemed also to be half eaten acorns and full acorns. There also seemed to be tiny droppings. Dad said it was possible that it was the leavings of dreylings, baby squirrels.

 Sometimes, me and my siblings would attempt to gather the biggest rock collection ever. We would race and tackle one another, trying to prove best in the competition. Many of the rocks we collected were unique in size and shape.

 We would pile them all together as the fire was being built and see which one was the best. The others would be added to set the fire.

 Once the fire was built, it was s'more time, singing and stories. It didn't even have to be about scary stories. It would be silly stories about what happened at school, our childhood, the jokes we pulled on our friends, Dad who once ran out with a towel only because he thought the car was being stolen, Mom who put on a colored pencil on her eyebrows, mistaking it for eyebrow liner...they were some good times.

 The best was night time. Even though Dad had tents set up, he would sometimes allow us to sleep in the car. I usually though would sneak out and lay out a sleeping bag and set up a little fire.

 I would then lay back on my sleeping bag and gaze up at the stars. The night sky was full of them, twinkling brightly like diamonds. I would name the constellations in my head as I connected the dots. I would try to point out which was the brightest one. I would take a deep breath and smell the calmness of the forest: the sounds of crickets chirping, the wind blowing against my face, the water gently waving around...

 Now as a zombie, it pained me that I probably couldn't experience this again. I could feel, smell, see, touch and hear...but these new biological changes in my body didn't make me feel the same as I did before.

 I sighed as I ventured into the forest. It looked like the same before, with the trees still with their greenery and the ground full of sticks, dirt and mud.

 I scanned around, searching for rocks and squirrel holes. I spotted a squirrel hole in a tree and peeked at it. It was full of twigs, leaves but no droppings. I frowned, wondering if it was a barely beginning home for a squirrel.

 The rocks were still in their unique shapes and sizes. I slowly tried to grasp a rock shaped oval and smooth as a pebble. It was a shiny, gray, oval rock with a little indent on the front of it. It looked lively and well, better than my slivery skin of silver pale roughness.

 I put the rock in my pocket and began to continue walking.

 The sun continued to blaze its rays through the trees, trying to block my vision. I swapped away bushes and branches, hoping to find the lake.

 Beneath my feet, branches, twigs and leaves cracked. I would tried not to make as much sounds as possible. If anything, I definitely wouldn't want sound to attract attention. Then again, who knows if a human might even try to go into a forest.

 It may be peaceful but a forest can also be deadly.

 Once, we found a snake slithering around. It titled its head at us and flickered its tongue.

 "That's a copperhead," Dad said. "Careful not to step on him. He's venomous."

 When we got back home, there were also stories about how one resident had seen a crocodile swimming in the lake. "I'll see if I can get someone to investigate and see if it's true," I remember our neighbor saying. They then sent out some animal control people to detect the waters. There were no signs of crocodiles but they warned us just to keep an eye out.

 I remember even waking up in the middle of a night hearing a cracking sound. My heart would race and I would shake Dad awake to find out what it was. Dad would get out with a flashlight and a pocket knife in case anything attacked. It turned out there was nothing but Dad would still get up and do patrol.

 I winced as I made another cracking sound on the twigs. I then attempted to dodge around them, putting my foot on the dirt instead. I then heard him.

 I titled my head up, curiously looking around for the sound of the voice. It was the voice of a young boy.

 Quietly, I snuck behind a tree and scanned for him. I then spotted him walking around with twigs in his hands.

 The boy looked about 10. He had short ruffled dark brown hair with white skin and what looked like blue eyes. He had on what looked like a blue shirt with and maybe dark grey pants. He was holding a branch in his hands.

 "I hope pop comes back," the boy said. He threw the branch and got another one. "It's so scary now."

 I frowned. This was strange and interesting. First of all, was the kid by himself? Then, if he wasn't, where were his parents or guardian? If I were the parent/guardian, I would never let a kid walk by him/herself unless they're not far from their spot...wait, the spot...

 "I just don't get why it had to be you," the boy said. He threw the branch again and now picked up a rock. "Don't get me wrong, Dad. Shane's here for us but....he should of gone instead of you." He started collecting twigs.

 "Everyone's also so jumpy. I get scared that someone's going to get into a fight one day. They were jumpy when you said you'd go get the supplies."

 He began to kick the dirt a bit. "I just hope you come back, pop. I need you. Mom needs you. We need you." He then put the rock in his pocket and threw the twigs. "Please, Dad, don't give up on me."

 I began to tiptoe away from the kid. If anything, I didn't need a screamer to announce my arrival. Especially if the spot that they're in isn't far away, I would be prepared to bolt as fast as I can. There was no need to tell if the kid was with someone or some people who were armed to the teeth or just with one weapon. I had to run away.

 I accidentally stepped on a large branch, splitting it in half, making a huge cracking sound.

 The boy shivered and looked around, scanning for the source.

 I took another step back again, making another crack. I cursed the branches for making it hard for me.

 The boy started backing away, fearing for worst. I began to look back and avoid stepping on any branches. Again though, it seemed that the universe wouldn't let me go without being noticed as I stepped on a large rock and slipped backwards. I hit my head against the ground and growled in pain.

 The boy yelped and grabbed a large branch. He turned side to side swiftly, glancing for danger. I got up and uttered a mumble, wondering why the universe was against me now.

 I stumbled back a bit and looked up. The boy was mere inches away from me now. He was holding the stick up like it was a gun, preparing to swing like it was a bat. His mouth twitched as he attempted to scream.

 I waved my hands saying no, stepping back from the boy. The boy quivered as he also stepped back, trying to produce a sound out of his mouth. I whimpered and held my hand out as a wait. I walked back again.

 The boy titled his head, curious now. He began to walk toward me, wondering why I was backing away.

 I stepped back again, still holding out my hand. The boy walked toward me, also making signs of caution.

 I stopped as the boy began to come near me. He curiously poked the branch at my arm. I stood silent, not knowing what to do.

 The boy glanced up at me. His eyes stared right at me. "Who...who are you?" the boy asked.

 I shrugged as I stepped back from him once again. I didn't feel any "need" to feast on him but something told me to stay away from him still.

 The boy's face morphed into confusion. "How can you just be near me like this? You're not...hungry are you?"

 I quaked at the word and hurriedly backed away.

 "Carl?" An adult voice echoed through the woods. As the boy turned his head to respond to the adult, I ran like a deer, gliding away from the boy.




 Later on, the universe would make sure I would keep in touch with the boy. It was midday and I was bored. I didn't know where the boy was now but it was better that way. He probably had the adult with him now.

 I was now at a river, throwing rocks at it. I wasn't good at rock skipping but it was close enough to make me remember how "human" I use to be. Also, it killed my boredom a bit.

 As I picked another rock, I heard some branches snap and I turned my head around.

 There was the boy, with a backpack. He also had something gleaming in his hands: a pocket knife. I sighed and turned my head away. It was no use talking to him. He probably was playing stupid just so he could see if his dad would determine if I'm the stupid one.

 The boy walked up to me. "You're...not pretending, are you?"

 I sighed and shrugged again. Just kill me now, I thought.

 He then slowly took off his backpack and began to unzip it. "I'm going to try to talk to you...they say you can't talk...but I told them about you. How you were walking away from me...like you were scared. They told me it was nonsense but...if it was nonsense, then how come the look on your face tells me you don't want to eat me. And if you are one of them...you would eat me now."

 I continue to be silent, not making a grumble or anything. I wasn't going to test them. It was like testing us. You didn't know who was going to attack first.

 The boy brought out a paper and some crayons. "Can you talk through this?"

 My head perked up at the paper and crayons. It was amazing how at least the boy had thought of this. To an adult, it was way beyond that.

 Still shakily though, I picked a crayon from the pile the boy had. The boy then brought out a book and placed the paper on it. In my best writing, I wrote out my name. I then showed it to the boy.

 The boy titled his head. "(Y/n)?"

 I nodded. "So...are you one of them?"

 I shrugged. I then pointed to my head. I quickly wrote on the paper, I can think.

 The boy raised his eyebrows. "You still know who you are?"

 I nodded. I still remember who I was. I'm in control of what I do. Sort of. I'm not like them in a way. I don't know how to explain this. It's like I know what it's like to have what they are...but unlike them, I know what to do. I have the sense of being human. I think. I feel...it's like, I know I'm human but I look...

 I stopped writing after that. Would the kid even know how I was feeling?

 The boy read the paper and glanced at me. "So...you're a half zombie?"

 I nodded. The boy smiled. "I think that's cool. Can you talk to them?"

 I shook my head but nodded. I wrote down that I somehow was able to "talk" to them by grunting and telling them to back away from prey or the fact that we felt each other's pain.

 I wrote down about my bite, the feelings, where I woke up, everything. If anything, maybe this can be useful information for someone researching into about the infection. At least it would get down how we felt.

 "Wow. I'm sorry," the boy said.

 I grumbled. I then wrote down on the paper again: I don't know what's going on with me. I feel myself becoming a "zombie" sometimes...but not really. It's like I know what to do. But then again...I fear...

 The boy nodded. "I always imagine if it was possible that if zombies could be half-people...but when looking at them for real, it feels like they're just mindless. I wish Dad would see you. Too bad he would probably shoot you. They all would."

 Who is your father?

 "My father is Rick Grimes. He's a sheriff. I wish I could tell him about you but...he would think I'm crazy."

 I pointed at the paper. "He would think I did that. That I'm making it up."

 "Grr." I sighed.

 "It's cool to have a zombie friend though...can we be friends?"

 It's too dangerous...

 "But you're proof that maybe not all of them are what we think they are. Maybe you can be the cure."

 I grumbled. You're not giving up that easy huh?

 "I want to know what it's like to be you. We need to know. We need to be prepared. And to show that not all are like what they are."

 I nodded. "Pff."

 The boy smiled. "I have my own zombie friend now."