Everything calmed down at a certain point, leaving Connie, Cody, and me thinking about the events that transpired today. Listening to a man die after watching the world be destroyed around you does something to you that you can't forget. I won't forget it, at the very least.
"Tomorrow, do you think things are going to be better? Like, maybe the cops will show up and clear out our neighborhoods so we can go back," Cody asked me. I knew at that point that there was nothing at home. Being disheartened as I was left me with no hope at all.
It was interesting to see how much things changed right after Henry died. I was hoping we would all get to go back, but when that chapter ended for him, something inside of me shifted. It felt like Connie was predicting the future, and that the world I knew would be reduced to nothing but a sharp disappointment of what it used to be.
Seeing what happened to Henry made me think; What if that were my parents? Could I handle that? What if my brother died? My sister? I couldn't come to terms with their death, not now, not ever. The only injury anybody in my family ever got was my Dad's broken leg, and he healed sporadically from that. To think, they could be injured in the same way... it made my child brain shut off momentarily.
"I think something might happen, at the very least. Maybe the zombies will go away and we can go back ourselves," I commented back to him. I was constantly wondering about them.
I wasn't threatened because I felt invincible here. Nothing would happen to me, because nothing has happened to me before. Until Henry died, I never questioned that fact. Now, I hear the zombies pounding on the door, and I genuinely fear for my life.
I wanted to be selfish and claim that I knew where Connie was coming from now. I wasn't sure if I understood it completely, and I knew that I should wait to ask her about this. About the way I feel, about how to move on... about how to keep a smile.
We were all sleeping in the gym, together, and in groups with our families somewhat close together. The zombies and their pounding on the door were quiet but very pronounceable. I couldn't get the sound out of my mind.
"Guys, if you don't mind a quick moment. I wanted to say that what happened today was terrible, as we all know. I don't want that to dishearten anybody, so I wanted to talk about some future plans. We still have the manpower to keep this place running and keep ourselves together. It won't be done overnight, but if we consistently work on it, I know we can get it
off the ground. Anna, I want to apologize for the loss of your husband today. If I were better, if I was fast enough, I could've kept him alive. Please, place your blame on me if you must," Dad told Henry's wife, Anna.
She was left lying on her bed, facing the wall with one arm gripping the other. I could only imagine what kind of pain that caused... but I knew I shouldn't say anything. She stood silent, and Dad eventually gave in and redirected his attention.
"As for the rest of us, we won't be able to go anywhere or do anything until the zombies are gone, so I hope everybody can sit tight for the time being. I'm sure tomorrow, we can come up with a plan to lead them... away..." Dad started to pause near the end of his speech, taking time to listen to his surroundings.
I heard it, and I'm sure everybody else could too.
Well, not hear it, but witness the lack of noise.
The zombies all stopped pounding... all simultaneously.
"Where are they?" Papa asked next, peering all around the room, and then out into the hall where the blinds were closed. "Gone..." He added on, turning back toward everybody.
"Gone? That fast? That doesn't feel right..." Dad suggested, crouching by the door and peering out where Papa was looking.
The two got up and went out, but my Mom ended up joining Dad this time around, and the two left for the entrance together.
Curiosity got the best of me, causing me to join right behind them. I peered around the corner, keeping the rest of my body safe, and watched them slowly lift the blinds as Dad looked underneath.
"Nothing... they're all gone... I see one, and he's lying down... is he sleeping?" Dad asked. He was shifting quickly, closing the blinds again, and then turning toward me.
"They sleep... the zombies are sleeping..." He told me. His look of surprise was wildly out of character, as I never knew Dad to be one who was scared of things.
As Connie ran up behind my back as well to see what was going on, she became surprised as well.
"Zombies don't sleep, that doesn't even make sense. They don't need sleep, they're just flesh-eating monsters... right?" Connie asked Dad. The two seemed to have established a connection that was out of my reach due to this apocalypse.
"What movie or show do zombies sleep in, and why?" Dad asked Connie next. She came up by his side and crouched down, looking through the blinds as well.
"Dead Walkers, near the end. When there's nothing going on, or they get bored, they just... sleep until something happens. That prolongs their lives... so, they'll be waiting out there for all of us until we do something about it," Connie suggested.
"We won't deal with this problem tonight. We're going to go to bed, and deal with it later, okay? Is that clear?" Dad asked. Connie had an adventurous mind, so it was natural to think that she was going to be the source of any mischief in the case that anything actually happened.
"Don't worry, Mister Charlie, you remind me of the leader in Dead Walkers, so I'll follow you no matter what," Connie said. It kind of made me happy that Dad acted like such an important person in a tv show like he was the main leader guy who could solve anything. My faith in him, and in surviving, was replenished.
"Thank you, Connie, but I think that having one leader is probably something that would blow up in my face. We're not leaders or followers here, we're cooperators. Keep in mind, nothing is wrong with that, we can all be people instead of leaders or followers. That's what my Dad always told me," Dad said to both Connie while looking off in my direction.
"I have an idea... we could make an electric fence. I was learning a bit in school before my break, so hopefully, I can make it lethal enough," Niko said, rubbing his arm shamelessly while proclaiming an... odd skill.
"So, who's teaching you to create electric chairs? Feels... sort of illegal," Skylar asked him. Niko shook his head and started to explain something that didn't make a whole lot of sense to me, so I turned away to look under the curtains as well.
All pictures of zombies I ever saw had decayed faces, but the things out there looked like wounded people. They still had color, and they were all asleep like people would be. Some of them even still breathing. It's strange, growing up your whole life seeing that zombies are these monsters that are very obviously different than the average person... just to see them act and appear as people.
It really made me think... what exactly separated us from being monsters? If we looked the same, needed the same things, thought the same, and moved the same... what's the difference? Could it be killing? If that were the case, would that make Bob a monster because he killed Henry?
Regardless of what my answer might've been, I knew for a fact that I wasn't a monster. I wouldn't ever be. I wouldn't kill, I wouldn't bite people, no matter what. I would be here, farming with my family, and creating a space we can all live in happily. I think that's what makes us human, instead of zombies. Maybe that was the answer to my question.
"Leon, you alright?" Cody asked me, bumping my shoulder.
"Y-Yeah... I'm alright. Hey, have you ever seen a show where zombies are sleeping? That's kind of odd, isn't it?" I asked Cody.
In Minecraft, they didn't even come out until night, which meant if they did sleep, it would've been in the day time.
"No, I haven't seen anything like that... but, they could be different because this is real, maybe? I'm not sure, or care really," He said, walking back to bed.
Everybody followed right behind him after the end of some side conversations, but I couldn't find the peace of mind to close the door and stop staring outside.
"I shouldn't care either," I muttered to myself, shutting the big wooden door lightly.