Soul Survivor: A gripping tale of the living, the dead, and the struggle to survive in an apocalyptic world. by Arthur M Wyatt Page A
Authors: Arthur M Wyatt
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She saw flashes of light then everything started to fade. She felt herself losing consciousness and knew she was dying as she hit the floor. The last sensation she felt was the cold tile against her cheek.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Minutes passed. Then consciousness began to flash in and out like an old neon sign. Amy’s vision began to clear. She saw Tommy’s body and the bodies of the two dead that had attacked them. Then she saw her own body, lying in a pool of blood, below her.
She felt confused but soon re alized that she must be dead. She was amazed at how calmly she took it.
So this is what it’s like to die , she thought.
She hovered there for several minutes trying to make sense of what was happening. Trying to come to grips with what she saw laid out below her. Trying to understand. Trying desperately to understand.
Then the arms and legs of her body began to move .
She was witnessing the process of a lifeless body becoming one of the living dead. And this zombie was her own.
She was t hankful she was no longer in there.
Then the eyes opened wide as her zombie moaned. Then it struggled to its hands and knees, raised its head and began to scream.
Amy had risen from the dead.
At that instant she began to spin around the room as if in a whirlpool. She tried to scream but nothing came out. She tried to grab something but had no physical body with which to do so.
She was spiraling lower and lower and faster and faster. Suddenly the scream ceased and was replaced with the sound of rushing air. Then she was sucked into her body and there was a stunned silence. She was back. Trapped. That wonderful peaceful feeling gone.
She felt a sudden sense of anguish, sadness and anger. She had not wanted to return.
She could see clearly through her zombie’s eyes. The sound was muffled but she could also hear. She had no control over her zombie’s movements whatsoever and had no sense of touch. There was no connection with the rest of the body. She had to observe whatever the zombie was observing. She could not look where she wanted to.
Her zombie struggled to it s feet, stepped over the bodies and walked around to the front of the counter.
She was grateful that the hunger for fresh meat hadn’t set in yet. She wouldn’t have been able to take it if her zombie had stopped to dine on Tommy.
They stood by the front door all afternoon. Unmoving.
This gave Amy time to ponder her own existence. She soon came to realize that most of the dead that she had dispatched in the past few weeks were actually vessels for the person they once had been. Like herself they were stowaways on a ghost ship. Unable to affect the outcome in anyway. Just along for the ride. It was a sobering thought.
How terrifying would it be to be part of a roving pack of the dead. Chasing down and devouring prey. Being an unwilling participant to mass murder.
She wondered what it was like at the moment of final death. What is it like when the dead die? How terrifying is it to meet your fate for a second time?
How can I be dead and alive at the same time? She thought.
What was the next level of existence? If any. Would she continue on or just blink out like a light. Or, as she hoped, would her soul survive and be free to emerge from its cocoon to continue its journey.
A Richard Ba ch quote kept repeating in her mind. “What a caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly.”
She came to the conclusion that she was her consciousness. Her soul. Existing separately from the physical brain that had been hijacked by the zombie.
Amy’s zombie began to get restless late in the afternoon. Then, just before sunset, it stepped out of the deli and onto the street.
Amy was calm even though she had no control. The sense of detachment was strange. She tried to will this thing to move and act as she wanted but
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Minutes passed. Then consciousness began to flash in and out like an old neon sign. Amy’s vision began to clear. She saw Tommy’s body and the bodies of the two dead that had attacked them. Then she saw her own body, lying in a pool of blood, below her.
She felt confused but soon re alized that she must be dead. She was amazed at how calmly she took it.
So this is what it’s like to die , she thought.
She hovered there for several minutes trying to make sense of what was happening. Trying to come to grips with what she saw laid out below her. Trying to understand. Trying desperately to understand.
Then the arms and legs of her body began to move .
She was witnessing the process of a lifeless body becoming one of the living dead. And this zombie was her own.
She was t hankful she was no longer in there.
Then the eyes opened wide as her zombie moaned. Then it struggled to its hands and knees, raised its head and began to scream.
Amy had risen from the dead.
At that instant she began to spin around the room as if in a whirlpool. She tried to scream but nothing came out. She tried to grab something but had no physical body with which to do so.
She was spiraling lower and lower and faster and faster. Suddenly the scream ceased and was replaced with the sound of rushing air. Then she was sucked into her body and there was a stunned silence. She was back. Trapped. That wonderful peaceful feeling gone.
She felt a sudden sense of anguish, sadness and anger. She had not wanted to return.
She could see clearly through her zombie’s eyes. The sound was muffled but she could also hear. She had no control over her zombie’s movements whatsoever and had no sense of touch. There was no connection with the rest of the body. She had to observe whatever the zombie was observing. She could not look where she wanted to.
Her zombie struggled to it s feet, stepped over the bodies and walked around to the front of the counter.
She was grateful that the hunger for fresh meat hadn’t set in yet. She wouldn’t have been able to take it if her zombie had stopped to dine on Tommy.
They stood by the front door all afternoon. Unmoving.
This gave Amy time to ponder her own existence. She soon came to realize that most of the dead that she had dispatched in the past few weeks were actually vessels for the person they once had been. Like herself they were stowaways on a ghost ship. Unable to affect the outcome in anyway. Just along for the ride. It was a sobering thought.
How terrifying would it be to be part of a roving pack of the dead. Chasing down and devouring prey. Being an unwilling participant to mass murder.
She wondered what it was like at the moment of final death. What is it like when the dead die? How terrifying is it to meet your fate for a second time?
How can I be dead and alive at the same time? She thought.
What was the next level of existence? If any. Would she continue on or just blink out like a light. Or, as she hoped, would her soul survive and be free to emerge from its cocoon to continue its journey.
A Richard Ba ch quote kept repeating in her mind. “What a caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly.”
She came to the conclusion that she was her consciousness. Her soul. Existing separately from the physical brain that had been hijacked by the zombie.
Amy’s zombie began to get restless late in the afternoon. Then, just before sunset, it stepped out of the deli and onto the street.
Amy was calm even though she had no control. The sense of detachment was strange. She tried to will this thing to move and act as she wanted but
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