Warmer | r

II

He sat in the front seat of the Mercedes, top down, hands in his lap, tearing away at a piece of soft brain matter. His hands were stained red from the blood dripping. He paid no mind as he shoved a piece in his mouth, savouring the taste on his tongue. And suddenly, he wasn't a corpse anymore. He was Taylor Carter, a 15-year-old boy with dark curly hair and sea green eyes. He was alive.

His eyes opened up again a few minutes later and he was no longer surfing through some of Taylor's memories, but instead, the same old zombie as he's always remembered being.

He frowned, stumbling out of the car and slowly staggered back to the 747 plane he called home.

His eyes scanned the seats until they landed on her form. She was still crouching near the window, tears streaming down her cheeks, a blade held out in front of her. Identical to the one that had stabbed him earlier.

Don't be creepy, don't be creepy, don't be creepy, he chanted to himself in his mind as he shuffled forward and reached up for the above head carry on compartment of the plane.

"What are you doing?" Jaedra asked as he pulled out a blanket.

"Please, leave me alone," Jaedra said, her voice quavering as he placed the blanket on her.

"Why me? Why did you save me?" She asked, looking up at him, confused. She clutched the knife closer to her when he reached out in an attempt to take it away.

"D-don't ... c-cry. S-safe," he said. She sniffled, wiping away tears as if embarrassed to be caught crying. He walked away and picked up an old record, trying to blow the dust off before setting it on the record player and pressing down the needle. A soft tune that Jaedra vaguely remembered drifted through the air and he returned to sit on the arm of a seat across the aisle from her, swaying with the music slowly.

"S-safe. K-keep you ... safe," he whispered, his voice almost drowned out by the sound of the whistling in the song. He closed his eyes and swayed more while she stared in wonder. She'd never seen a zombie with its eyes closed. They never blinked.

"What are you?" She asked. He opened his eyes again slowly but didn't respond. Instead, he just sat down in his seat, pressing a button to lean the chair backwards. He glanced over at her once more before turning his head again to listen to the music again.

He felt a strange sensation in his chest as if an old organ was pumping back to life. He ignored it, knowing it wasn't possible. He was dead, he couldn't feel. It must have been something in his stomach.

The rest of the night passed like that, and the next time he looked over, Jaedra was asleep against the window, rocking back and forth in her sleep. She was experiencing anything but a peaceful sleep, but he decided to leave her there and not disturb her. She needed to rest, especially after the day she had.

She only awoke the next morning, rubbing her eyes as she tugged the blanket off of her. She looked over and jumped when she saw him leaning over the arm of his seat to watch her, making sure she was okay. He sat back in his seat when she saw him.

"I'm hungry. Just let me go," she said.

"N-not ... safe," he responded as quickly as he could, shaking his head.

"Not safe. Of course, it's not safe," Jaedra repeated, leaning her head back in annoyance. "Then you're just gonna to have to go and get me some food, 'cause I'm starving."

He looked at her, sceptically.

"Please ... I'd be very grateful if you got me some food," she said again, much more pleasant this time. She asked him as if he were a living person. He couldn't remember the last time someone had treated him as such. It filled him with a new sense of energy.