“Not that there haven’t been instances of talking zombies in the past, but their speech patterns were distinctly different from yours in that...” She lowered the shovel, rested her hand against her cheek and trailed off into an incoherent monologue like nothing had happened.
And here I was thinking that the zombies were bad, but this girl takes the cake.
“So that’s that,” she concluded. “I think I’ll bash your head in just to be safe. No reason not to.”
“I’m human! What more do you want?!” I cried, trying to appeal to her humanity.
She stopped in her tracks.
“...Fine.” After an intense bout of staring, she begrudgingly chose to spare my life.
“Are you okay?” she added offhandedly.
Call me unreasonable, but something about her deadpan delivery felt lacking in sincerity.
“Am I okay? You almost killed me back there! And put that thing down, will ya!”
She reluctantly lowered her shovel after some deliberation.
“I didn’t know there were other survivors.”
What a half-baked attempt at an excuse. But if what she’s saying is true, then that means...
“So that’s where the obnoxious tune was coming from.” She pointed toward my pocket.
“Oh, umm, sorry; I’ll shut it off right away.” I took out my phone and turned off the power. Leaving it on would’ve put me at risk of receiving unwanted phone calls and messages. At least alarms were somewhat predictable; calls and texts could come at any time.
“Hold this.” She handed me the bloodstained shovel, which my hands reflexively took from her. Considering how heavy it was, I was surprised she’d been able to wield it with ease, but it didn’t seem that was much of an issue for her.
I didn’t quite get why she’d given me the shovel, but I had a feeling she was up to no good. I watched closely as she took the gun out of the officer’s holster.
“What’re you doing? You’ll get us both in trouble.”
“How so?”
“Japan’s gun control law prohibits civilians from carrying guns. We’ll get arrested on the spot!”
“By who?”
“What do you mean by who? The police, ob...viously...” It slowly dawned on me that this cop’s zombie status had some pretty far-reaching implications.
“Think this thing’s loaded?” she asked, staring down the barrel. I tossed away the shovel and immediately pried it from her hands.
“Do you have a death wish or something?!”
“Hey, I called dibs on that.”
“Now’s not the time for games! You could’ve gotten yourself killed!”
“My finger was off the trigger.”
“There’s so much wrong with that statement that I’ll pretend I didn’t hear it. Here’s how you check if this particular piece is loaded or not.” I looked over the gun.
Let’s see here...
It was a S&W M360J. The police models were marked “SAKURA M360J.” This gun was a variant of the Model 36—also known as the “Chief’s Special”—with a lanyard ring attached for Japanese law enforcement.
Two-inch snub-nosed barrel, five-round cylinder... About what you’d expect from your typical police revolver.
I had practiced using a Chief’s Special before in a police-themed FPS game I’d played back in the day, so I was probably good to go. This one was a different model, but in all actuality there was very little variation between them, seeing as they were made by the same manufacturer. That being said, this would be my first time handling the real thing, so I decided to put on an air of confidence so this girl wouldn’t question my authority.
“Watch and learn, newbie. First, you push down the cylinder release.” I held down the latch and gently flicked my wrist to the side. The cylinder came out with no issue.
“I see.” The girl was in awe. While she might’ve had a massive leg up on me in terms of zombie knowledge, I too had a domain of my own. “So, is it loaded?”
“Right. Lemme check real quick... Uh, yep, fully loaded.” It was clear from the condition of the cases that they had yet to be fired. Poor cop must’ve been caught off guard.
“Good.” She plucked the gun right out of my hands without even giving me time to react.
My mind ran amok with all sorts of paranoid delusions, but the only shot that fired next came from her lips.
“Shoes,” she barked, pointing at my feet.
“What about them?”
“You’re missing ’em.”
“Hah! You think I’d fall for tha—”
I looked down and realized that I was, in fact, shoeless.
Wow, I was panicking so hard back home that I totally forgot to put my shoes on. Then again, who wouldn’t have freaked out that badly if they were in my shoes... or lack thereof. My whole family got turned into zombies, then took turns trying to feast on my flesh. Our pet dog was eaten alive by my little brother. Yeah, I think I’ve got the right.
To be fair, we never really got along anyway, so I can’t say I feel too distraught over this. Then again, that could just be the desensitization talking.
“Just nick a pair. They’re basically ours now.” With that, she started digging through the police lockers like it was no big deal.
I swear to God, she’s doing that thing RPG players do where they enter some random NPC’s home and immediately go around furiously mashing the action button on anything even remotely resembling an interactive object, stealing what little food the poor NPC has to use as a healing item for their own selfish purposes.
“It’s survival one-oh-one. Get with the times.”
“You know what, I will.”
If that’s the only alternative to staying barefoot like a good boy, I’ll gladly take it.
I began rooting through the lockers myself. Upon noticing this, my companion ditched my newly established turf and began rummaging through some drawers.
“Grab anything useful,” she said flatly. “Spare ammo, food, you know the drill.”
“Spare ammo? As if you’ll find any.”
“No kidding?”
“You’re messing with me, right?”
I was hoping this was a really bad joke. A police officer, of all people, would never leave ammo out in the open.
“That’s how it works in the movies.”
“Uh, that’s because those movies were made by Americans.”
After a few quippy back-and-forths, I finally stumbled across a pair of perfectly fitting shoes and humbly “borrowed” them.
“Can I ask you something?” I said while tying my shoes.
“Go right ahead.”
“It’d be nice to get your name. Mine’s Hiroaki Dewa. Yours?”
“Otoha. Otoha Judou.” She toyed with a police baton she’d nabbed off the cop’s body. “Just Otoha will do.”
What a character...
And that was how I first met the self-proclaimed zombie guru, Otoha Judou.