Read Decaying Humanity for Free Online

and down, open and shut motion that let a good portion fall to the ground.
        It was never-ending, and we had both taken breaks from watching this horror show, but, we had to watch. Where would it go after it finished, if it ever finished? Would it smell us? How the hell do they hunt their food? If we wanted to survive, we needed to learn the basics about this creature. When he finished his meal we would learn an important lesson—are we safe inside? I had been gripping my machete so tightly that my hand began to throb.
    After nearly seven hours, he had eaten all that he could. He even recycled previously eaten pieces multiple times until the lawn looked like someone had dropped a bucket of chum. So we waited and watched as the man-creature finally stopped and looked around as if broken free of his trance. He rose to his feet and looked around. He spun around drunkenly, even seeming to look right into our window and then he just froze. It was like someone flipped his off switch and his shoulders just slumped over and he stood there swaying slightly in breeze.
        “What the hell is it doing?” Harvey whispered.
        “Nothing, I mean absolutely nothing,” I responded.
        Nothing is exactly what he did for about 40 minutes. His head was slumped down, staring at his feet. Every so often he would lift his head to look around. Maybe it was trying to catch a scent or see something, but it just remained there motionless.
        Out of nowhere, it suddenly turned towards the park and raised its head. It moved with a sense of purpose again and made the same reaching motions as before. I can only imagine it detected a new meal. I was left pondering how they functioned and more importantly, how would to avoid them. Just seeing one answered the big question, were there really zombies? Now, we knew the terrifying answer.
     
        I tapped the back of my pen against the pages of the opened cow-patterned notebook.
        “Don’t forget to put the burst of speed in there,” Harvey said while pacing around the room. I always loved lists and notes; it was part of my OCD I suppose. I felt that we needed to document what we saw. Even though, I would never be able to get those images out of my head.
        “Yeah, I wrote down ‘average walk speed with moderate sprint when close,’” I said while showing him my notes.
        He scratched his head. “We should have done something,” he muttered.
        “What do you mean?”
        “Look at those notes, we barely know anything,” he said while putting his thumbs against his temple. “We don’t know if they hunt by smell, sight, or sound.”
        “What are you suggesting we should have done? I’m not volunteering to go out there and run laps around him while you time his mile run,” I said.
        “No, hell no, but I could have opened the back door while you watched him. I could have banged a pot or yelled out to see if they are attracted to sounds,” Harvey said.
        I raised my eyebrows and glared at him for a second, “Dude, that’s freaking smart.”
        Harvey was right. We needed to know our enemies. Survival would depend on knowing the patterns and the abilities of the undead.
        “I have a feeling we’ll get plenty of chances to fill this notebook,” I said.
        “Hey Jim, don’t let me puss out next time. We can’t get scared if we are going to live through this.”
        “Alright, we’ll keep each other strong.”
     
        That night I laid in the bed, staring at the ceiling fan as it hung motionless from its useless wires. The silence was still the hardest thing to get used to. There was no electricity, no air flow, and no lights. The constant silence made the sudden explosion of noise all the more nerve-wracking.
        First there was a bright light that filled the living room and then there were sounds of gunshots right outside. Seconds after the gunshots our cheap