The zombie's roars gradually subsided. Alex White had avoided talking all afternoon to prevent agitating it; the zombies outside the wall were a real nuisance. Dinner was delayed as well. Once the noise stopped, the other person started cooking, further convincing Alex that she wasn't deaf or unaware of the zombies. She had just been waiting for them to leave before preparing food. Perhaps the zombie had followed her back when she went out to dig for bamboo shoots. But had it really left? Alex was skeptical; it might still be lurking outside the wall, waiting for an opportunity. The diligent human seemed increasingly mysterious to Alex—she was too calm and accustomed to the situation.
"Eat."
She held up a bowl with some diced meat, showing it to Alex.
"No," Alex shook his head.
"Oh, you've learned to say two words," she chuckled but didn't insist, tossing a piece of meat into her mouth.
The meat was undoubtedly delicious.
Alex restrained himself. Zombies eat meat out of instinct, driven by the virus. If he stuck to a vegetarian diet, could he starve the virus? He didn't know, but avoiding zombie-like behaviors seemed wise. If he ate meat and lost control, what if he couldn't resist biting someone?
After all, she always smelled so good; it took a lot of effort to hold back.
The vegetarian zombie bowed his head slightly, mentally labeling her once more.
"Unlock," Alex jiggled the chains.
"Nope."
She shook her head, "If you suddenly go berserk, maybe this can help calm you down. If I let you go and you get triggered and try to bite someone, I'd have to kill you."
She thought for a moment and continued, "Even though you're a vegetarian, it's best to be safe. I don't want you to die."
Seeing Alex's blank expression, she smiled, "Don't understand, huh? Maybe when you can tell a whole joke…"
She paused, after all, she was only helping him because he showed signs of being able to communicate, seemingly retaining some human consciousness. But she hadn't thought about what to do next; she was just helping for the time being.
Should she release him? It would be dangerous—not only for her but also for Alex White. If Alex lost consciousness or couldn't resist his predatory instincts, one of them would surely die—either her or the zombie. It was best to avoid that scenario if possible. Alex had shown improvement, from being unable to resist screaming in the middle of the night, disturbing others' rest, to now being able to utter words, two at a time. It was incredible.
"Alex... White."
Alex suddenly pointed to himself.
"Hmm?" She looked at the zombie, puzzled.
Alex continued to point at himself. "Alex... White."
"Alex White? Is that your name?" She looked at the zombie. "Sometimes zombies get words mixed up; I'm not sure if it's Alex White or White Alex. The latter sounds more normal."
"You." Alex pointed at her.
"Me? I'm Dora Lin." She smiled, coughed lightly, and slowly said, "Dora... Lin."
"Dora Lin," Alex said.
"Yes, that's my name." She smiled, amazed.
"Friend," Alex added.
Dora laughed, "Yes, friend. We're friends now."
Friends, what a strange thing.
Dora thought.
After finishing her meal and tidying up, she took out a small notebook and pen. Glancing at the quiet zombie in the distance, she lowered her head and began to write.
"Day eight. He... now perhaps 'he' is more appropriate... is recovering quickly. He remembered his name, though I'm unsure if it's Alex White or White Alex. This indicates that he has retained some (at least partial) consciousness and memory post-infection, reducing the likelihood of developing new sentience as a zombie.
He said the word 'friend.' I can't describe this feeling—it's amazing. Perhaps my grandfather's hypothesis was correct, though a bit late.
He doesn't eat meat. I'm not sure if it's an instinctual aversion or a conscious restraint, but I suspect it's the latter. He stared intently at the meat, which is theoretically better news than an inherent aversion. Restraining desires is a fundamental difference between humans and beasts."
Dora paused, glancing towards the shed. Sitting on the threshold, she pondered for a moment before continuing to write:
At noon, as I returned from digging up vegetables, Uncle Cai followed me. He had been lingering outside for quite some time. Alex White warned me of danger outside and seemed uneasy. It was as if he didn't see himself as one of the zombies. This reminded me of something: two days ago, noticing his concern for hygiene, I had prepared a washbasin for him. But his way of washing his face was peculiar. Reflecting on it now, his actions seemed to avoid his reflection in the water. Could he be avoiding his own image? Yet, just days ago, he had expressed a desire for a mirror... Maybe he actually wanted a comb, and I had misunderstood.
After a while, she placed her pen inside the notebook, closed it, and looked up at the darkening sky, letting out a long sigh. Grandpa... If Grandpa were still here, he would likely be delighted and eager to be friends with him. The thought of that quiet old man befriending a calm zombie made her smile. After a moment, she sighed again.
She stood up and returned to her room. The door closed with a soft click, and then everything fell silent. The courtyard was bathed in bright moonlight.
A cricket jumped out from a corner. Alex White reached out and caught it, gently holding it between his fingers, feeling its belly pulse with life. He held it for a moment and then, without any cruelty, let it go. It hopped away, hastily fleeing into the darkness.
Leaning against the wall, Alex White shifted slightly, causing the chain to rustle softly. He then stopped moving, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.
The scent of humans was a true test of an infected's willpower. Once he became accustomed to controlling his impulses, this act of self-discipline became almost enjoyable, like maintaining a fitness routine. Initially painful, it gradually became a source of pleasure.
Friends shouldn't be eaten. No, no one should be eaten.
Alex White opened his eyes and looked at the pale ground. It must be mid-month; the moon was full. This realization made Alex White happy. He was becoming aware of more and more things, not just language abilities.
Listening carefully to the sounds outside the courtyard, there was only the occasional chirping of insects. The zombie from earlier in the day had likely left, as there were no more noises. After all, zombies only have basic instincts—they're dumb and slow. They might even forget why they were making noise and just start wandering aimlessly again.
"Dora."
Alex White said softly.
That fresh human was called Dora Lin.
"Friend."