Friends are invaluable. At the very least, if food became scarce, Dora Lin wouldn't immediately resort to violence against him. She might even give him a chance to fend for himself—after all, who'd shoot a friend?
Alex White thought that the perfect arrangement between them—between a person and a zombie—was straightforward: "I don't eat you, and you don't shoot me." After all, this zombie could still communicate and think rationally, not much different from a human being. Plus, he could work and chop wood.
Dora Lin woke up early, as always, before the sun even rose. Her routine was so healthy it was almost irritating. In the world where Alex originally came from, people her age often went to bed at dawn. But in this post-apocalyptic world, with no entertainment, people simply went to bed when it got dark.
"Alex, good morning," Dora greeted brightly, as she pumped water from what Alex considered an ancient well. The morning air was crisp, and the surroundings were silent except for the creaking of the well and the faint clinking of chains.
Since this conscious zombie arrived, the courtyard felt less oppressive and silent. Before his arrival, the place was a dead zone, with only eating and working to fill the void. Dora felt fortunate to have captured him that day; his ability to work was an unexpected bonus.
Last winter, she'd been alone, with no concern for noise or quiet. Her days were filled with watching the yellowing leaves fall, eating alone, working alone, living alone. She could barely recall how she managed to endure it all.
Dora filled a washbasin with water for Alex. They both squatted down, one under the eaves and the other under a south-facing shed, splashing water on their faces. Dora plunged her head into the basin, holding her breath. After about a minute, bubbles began to rise. She lifted her head, water dripping from her hair.
She wiped her face and glanced over to see Alex, his head still submerged and motionless, as if lifeless. Her face-wiping slowed, and nearly three minutes passed before he finally lifted his head and wiped his face. Dora laughed softly.
"Yesterday, I noticed the locust tree outside is about to bloom. We can pick some flowers to eat when they're ready."
Dora Lin wiped her face as she chatted, unconcerned whether Alex White could grasp such a long conversation or if his brain might get overloaded. "That big locust tree is enormous... Last year, it produced a lot of flowers, and we didn't even eat them all."
As she talked, she continued pumping the well's wooden handle and took out a nearly bald toothbrush.
"Hmm?" Alex mimed brushing his teeth.
"What? You brush your teeth too?" Dora tilted her head, seemingly unable to comprehend.
Seeing Alex nod, she hesitated, looking at the toothbrush and then at Alex.
"Alright," she said, washing the toothbrush. It was old and almost ready for retirement, but her frugality had kept her from discarding it. After cleaning it, she handed it to Alex.
Alex didn't look particularly pleased, his expression hard to describe.
"Go ahead, use it," Dora said generously. "I have another one." She went back into the house and returned with another somewhat used toothbrush.
Alex still didn't move.
Dora thought for a moment, then incredulously asked, "Are you being picky?"
It was too funny—a zombie being picky about a human's stuff.
"If you don't want it, give it back," she said, a bit annoyed. A zombie being fussy about hygiene!
"...."
Alex looked at the nearly bald toothbrush, then at Dora, his brain stalling; toothbrushes were non-renewable resources, after all. He hesitated, torn between refusing and accepting it.
After a long internal struggle, Alex chose to accept it. Even as a zombie, he wanted to have the best teeth.
He pointed to the toothpaste. Dora looked pained. "How about I give you some salt to rinse your mouth?" She repeated slowly, "Salt. Rinse."
Alex sighed.
"Here." Dora tossed him the nearly empty toothpaste tube. She still had some stock left, but she planned to live for many more years.
Dora watched with curiosity as the zombie brushed his teeth. Usually, zombies were a bloody mess, dirty, and smelled awful from a distance. While Alex was quite meticulous, it seemed a bit much.
"Honestly, you drool enough every day that it counts as rinsing. I don't think you need to be so particular," Dora remarked.
The zombie didn't deign to respond.
After such a long hiatus, brushing his teeth for the first time made Alex White feel as though his entire body had been rejuvenated. It was as if he had rediscovered what it felt like to be human.
Most other zombies were just foul.
"I... I'm getting back to normal," Alex said with enthusiasm.
"Yes, you are," Dora Lin responded, taking out a small notebook to jot down his obsession with brushing his teeth.
"You smell nice." He had intended to express his gratitude to Dora, but since she was close and the fresh morning air made the human scent quite strong, his attempt to speak came out strangely.
Alex gathered himself, closed his eyes, and was relieved that his tongue remained stiff and wasn't clearly heard by Dora. Otherwise, he might have been shot right then.
"What did you say?" Dora turned around, puzzled by his comment about smelling nice.
"Thank you," Alex said, clasping his hands together in thanks.
Dora eyed him with suspicion. "You're drooling."
Alex responded, "Sick."
Dora scrutinized him closely. Alex bowed his head and opened a book.
"I won't let you go," Dora said firmly.
"Okay," Alex nodded.
His body was somewhat stiff, and the iron chains made movement cumbersome. That was why he had wanted the chains removed yesterday. Upon reflection, he understood the risks of being unchained around an infected person and supported Dora's decision to keep him restrained.