A Rational Zombie

The prey are fighting between themselves. The old prey grouped up, shuffled away from the building while maintaining their defenses, hiding behind shields. They were going towards the bows they dropped. The new prey didn’t stop firing. Even with the shields, the arrows still struck prey. Nine out of ten arrows wouldn’t hit. But the one that got through always drew a scream. With this, I don’t have to worry about the prey coming into the building to chase me. I’ll handle the five that split off from the group, find the window they’re coming from. But would they still come with such a huge commotion? I’m not sure. If they aren’t, I’d interfere with the prey’s fight, shoot a few arrows to help the losing side until the balance tilts, shoot the side I was helping afterwards too. But I can’t be sure. Even if they aren’t, I can take this chance to explore the building, find good locations to defend from.

There’s a few rooms in sight. What kind of place is this? The insides aren’t filled with recognizable things. It’s not like the cabins that only had beds to stay in. It’s not like a room made for smoking meat. There aren’t any beds either. No pots or pans. Why didn’t the prey I’ve seen have a building like this? For now, I shouldn’t study what’s inside. I need to find a windowless room that can serve as a chokepoint. Survival is more important. I can observe all I want after I deal with the prey.

The first room I passed by had a window. It was filled with shelves. The shelves had the openable bricks with letters on them. It’s a shame reading takes too much time. The second room I passed had more shelves. In fact, it was all shelves. It was too small to be called a room. It was closer to a container that had a door-sized opening. Past that small space, there was a set of stairs leading down. I think the strong prey went in that direction. There’s blood leading down. Not dried blood. Stinky fresh blood from others. I’ll avoid going that way for now. There’s no doubt killing the strong prey will be difficult. It ignored an attack from my knife. It’ll take too much time to fight it, giving a chance for the prey coming in from the windows to attack me.

The third room had a lot of white furniture. A large tub. A seat with a hole in it. It smelled. There was a bag inside of the seat. And inside the bag, there was a yellow liquid. There was a window in the room. But it was a small one. At most, a prey could stick its head inside. There’s no way one could climb in. This room is perfect. But I’ll continue to explore, keeping this one in mind. If I’m forced out of it, it won’t hurt to have more knowledge of where to run.

The prey are still shouting outside. Are they talking? I wonder if they’re killing each other still. I hope so. The perfect scenario would be all but one prey dying. I don’t think that’ll happen. I already know how prey react when they’re losing. They run. There’s no way the two groups will fight to the last prey. Actually, there was one prey that didn’t run, didn’t care if it was attacked. Its brain tasted spicy. I haven’t found the cause. But I think these new prey are similar to the one I ate. Unreasonable, seeking blood. If they are, I hope they lose. I don’t want to fight prey that don’t flinch when attacked, don’t care about protecting any part of themselves. It’s annoying. Prey should act like prey.

After the third room, there was only one more. If the prey were going to climb in through the windows, it’d have to be in through here. The door was shut. I readied my spear. This wasn’t a bad place to fight. The door acted like a chokepoint. But I’m undefended from behind. The strong prey can come at any time. It’s not a bad place to fight. But I should minimize the danger. I lowered my spear, retreated back to the third room. I readied my bow. I’ll take advantage of the distance first. When the prey open the door, I’ll shoot. If I’m lucky, I might get to shoot two arrows before the prey arrive before me. Once they do, I can always use the third room’s entrance as a chokepoint.

I drew my bow, got into my shooting posture. Now I wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And … the prey might not be coming. There was always that possibility. Once the new prey attacked the old, would these prey still try to kill me? It’d make more sense for them to fight back against the attackers. I feel silly now. I lowered my bow, put my arrow away, switching it for a knife. I went to the fourth room, opened the door. There wasn’t anyone inside. The sounds of fighting greeted me. There was an open window. It wasn’t very large. But prey could still crawl through, only one at a time though.

“You fucking junkie!”

The shouting was very loud. Almost as if the prey were right outside. I went up to the window. There was three prey attacking a single prey. And there was another three prey lying on the ground, blood pooling underneath all of them, enough blood to guarantee their deaths. The three prey were winning, obviously. They were stabbing at the lone prey with knives, their spears on the ground. The lone prey was going to die. But it wasn’t shouting. It was making strange noises. Laughing. Yes, that’s the word. I hadn’t remembered laughter until now. It’s an expression of joy, happiness, excitement. Things this prey should not be feeling at all. Odd. But it doesn’t matter. These prey were clearly fighting each other. And I had already decided. I’ll help the losing side. At this close range, I won’t miss.