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The alarm zombieman set woke It up early in the day. He set it to an hour before when he’d actually want to get out of bed; an old habit, back when there was the internet to distract him from the massive pain that was getting out of a comfy bed. Now, It just stared up at the eggshell white ceiling and questioned why he’s doing this. Zombieman knew why, though.
It has been ten years since day 1 of the zombie apocalypse, and there are three things zombieman was sure of; despite the constant rot, he hasn’t changed or seemingly aged; the groups of human survivors that littered the outskirts of Cedar Rapids have either all died out or left for greener pastures, making the city somehow even more quiet; and the final shopping mall has run out of his favorite canned food, Spaghetti-O’s. Sure, he could do as zombies do and munch on human remains, but the texture didn’t agree with its barely living tastebuds—Zombieman was a picky eater, even after the change.
Briefly, as he drudged himself out of bed, it wondered what name to try out today. 10 years doesn’t sound like a short time, but as Zombieman was quickly discovering, time is warped when half of your brain is deteriorating and re-teriorating at the same time(he questioned if that second word was real or made up. He decided it didn’t matter, though he’ll look for a Webster while he’s out.) as such, when time feels like it’s moving at a million miles per second and at a snails pace all at once, he had to find ways to stay……well…..perhaps sane isn’t the correct word here. Mostly sane. That works.
The first couple years he dedicated to trying to figure out who he was. The most he could find were suitcases in an old apartment that was on his phone, so it’s very likely he was new to the area. With that original story derailed, he decided that the best way to figure out his real name was to go with what feels right. Soren was his first choice, for reasons he couldn’t explain, and stayed for a few years until he grew tired of it. Tommy came next, quickly followed by Balthazar, Jameson, Brittny, Cedrick, and Fred; nothing stuck. Of course, when you’re the only sentient being in an entire cityscape, it’s hard to keep a name when nothings there that can acknowledge it.
Zombieman walked into the living room, where it’s (presumably) old suitcase waited with the few objects he wanted to bring. In the zombie apocalypse, when the brainless won’t eat you and you can’t feel your feet, walking becomes pretty easy. It especially helps to know where one is going, which Zombieman had a faint clue. His first stop was Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. It was little more than a 5 hour drive from Cedar Rapids to there, though we Zombieman knew that without looking it up, he couldn’t tell. On foot, the trip will take him 6 and a half days.
In his suitcase, he’s packed what few books he liked from the local library, a couple cans of his favorite sodas, and 3 outfits of the comfiest clothes he could steal. After heading down his building, Laurel(today’s name) stood out in the open air, taking it all in. Cedar Rapids was nearing the end of winter, and the temperature was still in the single digits. It was so cold he could feel it on what little amount of skin still clung to his arms and legs. As it stood there, it thought back to all his favorite memories of this city. The movies he saw, the games of Magic: the Gathering he had played in the local nerd stores. Laurel had long since accepted that the time of civilization won’t be back for a good 50 years or so, but it still panned the small part of himself that desired human contact. But standing around was going to vhsnge nothing.
Laurel, putting on his headphones and selecting a song on an old IPod, began walking southwest. In 6 days, it will find out what history he has at Fort Leavenworth.