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Zombietown, conclusion

29/10/2009

I found her at the end of a nearby pier. She was having difficulty untying a boat with only one hand.

I pointed my gun at her and shouted, “Stop!”

She did and looked at me. Even from a distance, I could tell she was deciding between trying the boat anyway and reasoning with me.

“Jimmy, I didn’t mean to hurt you. It was Samedi’s idea. You know I lov…”

I shot her before she finished. The bullet made a perfect round hole in her forehead, exiting her skull in a crimson explosion. A fleeting look of astonishment passed over her face. Then there was nothing. Her body hit the floor hard. And stayed there.

I approached slowly, gazing at her still form. At that moment I realized that despite the disgust, hatred and contempt I felt for Zombietown, a tiny part of me had hoped that this trip, this walk down a very disturbed memory lane, would prove me wrong. That I would find a sign that there was more to this place than I had allowed myself to see.

That tiny part was wrong. I had always been right.

I had sworn I’d never go back to Zombietown again.

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