A Life Already Lived (Patreon)

As I drove, lightning shot across the inked sky. I do love me a gully-washer, but the night sky only promised rain without delivering. It didn't matter much to me though, because my favorite part of the storm was the way the thunder cracked so loud that the living went jumping right out of their skins like the devil was on their tail--not that I've ever seen the devil. I've been around a good while, but old Scratch ain't bothered showing his face yet, and I'd gone out of my way to avoid him.

The road curved ahead and my rusted old VW van followed the double yellow line. I kept an eye to either side for any likely prey. Around these backwoods roads, I could almost always find a quiet cabin with some old codger who lived alone and smoked like a chimney. Heart attacks never caught much attention when it was some forgotten sort that went and dropped dead, even if they did make for a mighty shoddy meal. I went through a spell of eating fancy on the life force of young dandies—that was back around the time that I had me a mighty big crush on Rosemary Clooney. Now there was one fine woman.

The fine eating, however, ended when some fancy college boy put two and two together and figured out that a whole lot of healthy folk having inexplicablelike heart attacks pointed toward the undead. The dandy cut off my damn head. You got no idea how much it hurts when someone goes cutting off your head. And the healing afterwards is a right bitch. Seeing as how I'm not addle-patted in the brain, after that, I generally confined myself to old folks. I got used to the hunger after a mite.

The lightening split open the sky and thunder followed right on its heels, so loud that I could swear my windshield rattled. In that flash of light, I spotted me some dinner. Rather than an overgrown shack or run down old Creole cottage, what I found was an old, primer-gray Plymouth sitting beside the road, its red hazard lights blinking like Christmas and inviting me to stop and sit a spell. With a grin, I pulled up behind the car and fought my gear shift into park with a few choice curses for its mechanical failings. For a brief time, my headlights illuminated the inside of the car, and I could see a woman's head, her long brown curls bobbing as she practically danced and pounded out a rhythm on the steering wheel of her dead car.

Oh yeah, I was eating good tonight. I weren't eating particularly smart, but I could always hide the body after. A week in the woods and a little rain would keep anyone from twigging to the fact a zombie had eaten her life force.

Climbing out of my seat, I took a detour through the back of my van and checked my mirror for any skin that'd gone sliding off. People were real squeamish about that, and I didn't want my dinner getting all panicky and rabbitting off into the woods. Being a zombie had some real advantages in terms of longevity, but it weren't good on the joints. My left leg had a bad habit of falling off right in the middle of doing anything too strenuous.

Satisfied that I looked like a reasonable Good Samaritan, I climbed out into the night. The air was thick with coming rain and the stink of car exhaust, and I could feel the thumping beat of her music pounding out of the car. Lightning flashed and thunder cracked, making a dead tree on the roadside look like a skeleton with twig fingers reaching for the heavens. The woman musta seen me in her mirror because she turned around in her seat and flicked on the interior light. And that were the first time I was aware that my dinner was definitely male. 

He had a square jaw, a prominent Adam's apple, and he needed a shave. His ear was downright gaudy with a half-dozen earrings, and he even had one of them witch-stars hanging from a leather necklace. Some days I think maybe it's time for me to find a more permanent grave because it were mighty hard on my manly ego to not be able to tell the difference between a man and a slip of a girl. Then again, I were looking for life force, and this fellow seemed to have plenty, so it's not like it mattered. My dinner rolled down his window and poked his head out as I came up on the driver's side.

"Awesome, thanks for stopping. You would not believe how long I've been sitting here, and there is no one willing to stop and help. Sometimes people suck." He smiled brightly and clicked the music off. That was good because I thought my one ear might slide right off my head in protest if he hadn't.

"Don't seem right the way people today don't look out for one another," I agreed all friendly-like. "You need some help getting her started?" I slapped the top of his car. He raised an eyebrow at me, and I resisted an urge to feel my face to make sure nothing had gone south since I checked in the van. That happened from time to time.

My dinner continued to look at me for a second before coming to some decision. He clicked his door open, and I stepped back to let him out. "I would love some help," he said, a bounce in his step like he'd been drinking way too much coffee. Thunder crashed overhead and he looked up at the starless night. "Before this storm starts and I end up walking in the pouring rain. I'm Benny, by the way." He stuck his hand out.

Manners had me returning his handshake before my brain could check in with my body. "George Udall," I offered in return. Lack of body heat was a tell-tale sign to anyone who had the sense god gave a goose. Benny, however, just pumped my hand once or twice before leaning back into his car to pull the hood release.

"George, I do hope you know something about engines." Benny brushed by me, and I let my palm ghost over his arm. A spark jumped between us, a promise of the feast that lay just under his skin, but then nothing. No energy, no bloating with the power that wanted to burst through my body, no healing, no weak thump in my chest as my own heart struggled to restart and failed.

Benny was still talking, and I blinked in surprise as he walked away from me without even noticing my attempt to feed. "One of these days, I'm going to get great joy out of setting this car on fire, but not today. Today, I have got to get her started."

"This a '73?" I focused on the car for a second and tried to ignore the sudden panic that made my stomach turn sour. What if I'd run out of time? What if I couldn't feed no more?

"Yep, wife wants us to sell her, but we can’t afford better." He shrugged like it didn't bother him that he was about to get poured on and eaten, not that he knew the last bit. Benny pulled a big old flashlight out and pointed it at the engine so I could go poking around. The engine had more gunk in it than wiring.

"I am better with a computer than old shit like this. Sometimes I think I was totally born into the wrong time. Trust me, I would be so much more comfortable fixing a flying car, or even a trebuchet, but this whole time period in the middle is not my thing," Benny said with soft laugh. I could feel the first fat drops of rain hit my back, and I carefully slid one hand up the side of the car toward him. I could feel all that energy just inches away, but I couldn't seem to feed.

"I bet you feel the same way," Benny went on, about as oblivious as a man could be.  "I mean, you sound like you would've been a great cowboy, but sometimes, it's like we aren't born into the right place in history. You know?"

"Don't reckon I do." I'd been born right enough... I just hadn't done the dying part quite right.

"Hey, no problem. Sometimes I think no one gets me. I've always been a little on the weird side." Benny laughed like this was a big joke.

"I need the light here." I pointed at the carburetor. Standing hip to hip with Benny, I focused on all the delicious energy piled up right next to me like a big old stack of chocolate set out in front of a starving man. Starving might have been a mite bit exaggerated seeing as how I wasn't exactly dropping body parts yet. But being dead took a whole lot of effort and energy, and I were more than a little hungry. Benny moved the flashlight and it took me all of about two seconds to see the butterfly valve was just about glued shut. Being dead usually led to being jobless, and I'd gotten good at getting a few last miles out of old horses and older cars.

"So, can you save her?" Benny asked.

"Can't promise to make her new, but with a lick and a promise, I can probably get her started again," I offered.

Benny nearly knocked me back with a brilliant smile. "George, I'm just might owe you my second born. I would offer you the first, but trust me, I've smelled her diapers, and that would so not be a bargain. I'm telling you, you have saved my life."

He bounced on the balls of his feel and his joy sent out a wave of life energy so powerful that I could feel it warm me, even without feeding. All I needed to do was get my hand over his heart, and I was going to feed like I had never fed before. "Ain't nothing. It just seems like two people ought to do for each other when they can," I said with a smile.

"Oh no, this is not nothing. You are a prince."

I walked back to my van, and Benny was right behind me every step. He thanked me again as I found a screwdriver and then again as I scraped muck out of the tiny crack where the valve attached to the side of the carburetor. Then I braced the end of the screwdriver into the valve to make sure the gas were getting through. The van was on its last legs, so maybe I could get a good feed and a temporary ride out of this.

Standing up, I wiped my greasy hands on my shirt. "That oughtta do her." I clapped Benny on the shoulder. My hand tingled like I was touching a real-low voltage electric fence. Before Benny could make any objections, I pressed my left hand to his chest, just over his heart. Straining, I pulled at his life force, willing it to enter my body, to repair the damage death had done. Maybe this time I would get enough life energy to actually rejoin the living.

I was so tangled up in the hope that it took me a second to notice that there weren't much happening. My palms tingled as I felt the current without being able to tap into it. The light from the Plymouth shone across Benny’s face sideways, making strange shadows that distorted his features. Slowly, he brought his arm up and touched the back of my hand for a second before he slowly pulled my palm away from his chest.

"What a bummer. I was so hoping I was wrong, but you went for the chest and not the neck, so I'm guessing zombie."

I stumbled back, shocked and more than a little worried about the fact that the jig was up. "How?" I asked.

"Hey, it's not like no one has ever heard of a zombie," he shrugged as if it wasn't anything big.

"But how did you stop me from..." I stopped. It were mighty uncomfortable talking to the person you tried to kill about why your killing of them didn't go just right.

Benny didn't answer right away, but he reached into his pocket and pulled out a picture of a thin woman with hair dyed raven black and dark lips. She wasn't exactly an apple-pie sort of woman. She was holding a round faced babe who waved tiny fists. Benny held the picture out so I could see it, and he got a real stupid look on his face as he gazed at them two.

"You can't steal what I've already given away. It's not mine, man." He traced the edge of his wife's face with his finger. The only time I'd seen a man with that expression, he'd just found him a whole pile of stolen gold. Course I shot him two seconds later, but for them two seconds, he'd been mighty happy. And Benny looked uncommonly happy now.

Hell, he looked even happier than a man with a pile of gold. He shook his head slowly and stared at the picture with a real stupid expression like there weren't nothing in the world more important to him. "That's the secret to life. Give yourself to someone else, and you get more in return than you could ever steal in a dozen lifetimes." He carefully tucked the picture away and patted his pocket. "So, do you think the car will start now?"

For a second, I really thought I might be addle-pated. Maybe instead of some bit of skin falling off, some piece of brain had broken off and I was just hallucinating. Seemed downright unfair that something like love could keep me from feedin', but the fact were that I couldn't touch his life force. Sliding in behind the wheel, he turned the key, and the car started with a roar. With the valve stuck open, the engine raced, so I reached over and pulled out the screwdriver.

Not really knowing what else to do, I slammed the hood back down and stood staring at this very odd man who was still smiling at me. One of us was definitely addle-pated.

"You are a life-saver," Benny said, and then he laughed at his own joke. I were feeling like checking the bushes for them television cameras when a chap was getting a joked played on him, but it didn't seem likely. The living were real unamused when it came to the unliving. Reaching through the window, Benny actually patted me on the arm. It'd been a long time since someone had reached out like that, and I weren't quite sure what I thought of the tendrils of need and hunger and a real unusual desire to not eat Benny that sprouted from that touch. "Seriously though, thank you."

"You ain't planning on coming back and cutting off my head?" I asked suspiciously.

"That would be slightly rude." He stopped, his expression suggesting he was thinking something over. "Besides, the only way to stop a zombie is to make him not want to steal life anymore. Otherwise, all the damage in the world would just make you steal more life so you could heal. But is it worth it? Seriously, is all the stealing and killing really worth the life you're having right now?"

I just stared at him. A zombie didn't make the man twitch, but apparently the thought of surviving after death just about did him in. He looked almost green at the thought. Then he rolled up the window and pulled away from the shoulder. He weren't more than a few feet away before he turned that music on again, and his tail lights blurred as the heavens opened. Rain pounded the ground, turning the road into a smooth black ribbon that reflected the lightening back up to the sky. I was immediately soaked through and my right ear started sliding off my head.

Some days unlife just weren't fair.