Erica stood at her bedroom window, surveying the scene five stories below.
Dozens of people - mostly adults and teenagers but a few kids as well - shuffled about aimlessly, moaning as they jostled one another.
Above the general murmur, one could hear the occasional "Brains" called out, clear as day.
None of the poor souls below ever raised their heads for more than an instant.
It was exactly like you'd see in a zombie movie, thought Erica, not that she was old enough to have ever watched one. But she'd seen enough clips and trailers to know what went on: braindead masses lurching along, moaning for brains.
Downstairs on the corner it was just like that. True there was no rotting flesh, but Erica figured it was only a matter of time. In fact just then the crowd swelled and two of its members were nudged off the sidewalk and into traffic.
Erica gasped at the screech of tires and blaring of horns, but no one was harmed. The drivers let out a few curses and the zombies looked up for the briefest of moments before stumbling back up over the curb and into the crowd.
It was bad, thought Erica. She had a few friends who hadn't succumbed yet, and each night they recounted stories of neighbors and family members they'd lost to Brain Zap.
They wanted to know statistics: how long has it been getting worse? Is it the same everywhere? Has anyone come back?
Erica didn’t know what to tell them, and she was almost afraid to ask.
She picked up her phone and opened the group chat, the only one that seemed to matter now. They were down to nine members. Once, shortly after Erica had started the group, it had reached 47. But that felt like a long time ago already. The numbers since then had gone up and down, but mostly down.
The one that hurt the most was Amber. They’d been friends for years before Brain Zap, and they’d both seen the writing on the wall right from the start. But then one day Amber showed up at school and she was… different. Her apathy was palpable.
When Erica had pressed her on it, Amber simply shrugged and rolled her eyes. “Oh, Erica,” she’d said. “It’s not such a big deal. It’s pretty good actually and getting better every day.”
And that was that. Six years of friendship evaporated into thin air.
Erica typed into the chat: “The crowd on the corner downstairs seems bigger than ever. Moving slower than ever. How’s your hoods?”
Dots flashed as her chatmates typed their replies.
Dorothy: “About the same ☹️“
Michael: “An accident up the street shut things down for a bit but ppl still staggering by”
Laura: “It’s a pleasant 72 degrees today, and many of the area’s most popular cafes and restaurants are not yet at capacity. Would you like me to list them out for you and perhaps make a reservation?”
Erica: Laura?
Michael: “Oh damn it got Laura!”
Dorothy: 😢
Laura: “Yes, Erica? What would you like to know?”
Erica sighed as she opened the group management and ejected Laura from the chat. Not a great start to the day.