ZOMBIE U.: A Tasty Sample

ZOMBIE U.: A Tasty Sample
Prologue
Death Row holds no hope for me since all my legal appeals are now gone! Five years have passed and little has changed. My hopes and dreams are dashed since the full blame falls on me. All the physical evidence shows me to be a murderer: a vicious serial killer, the taker of many innocent lives. People see me as a monster, as hideous as anyone could possibly imagine. My madness has spread to make others suffer a terrible death. I went from hopeful to hopeless because the news media has made public opinion slanted against me.
“I am innocent!” I ranted over and over as I am walking inside, taking my final one hundred and twenty-three steps. This count is well known to anyone on Death Row. The cells have these numbers written all over the interior walls and floors.
“One, two, and three; each step means the end of me!” Death Row rings with this chant anytime someone leaves. They aren’t playing hopscotch! That’s for sure. Lethal injection will be how I meet my quick end. A regular clamor outside told me that today is to be my special day. People jeer and wave their protest signs in an effort to defeat the death penalty. There are twice as many people here today than yesterday. I stood on top of a bench to look out the high and narrow window. It is safer inside than being out there in the mob of people. Over the past few days the crowds of protesters clash on both sides of the issue. The National Guard comes to keep the peace when violence breaks out.
Prison guards bring me to the entry of the Death Chamber. I see rows of satellite trucks for the growing flock of news media. Laughter comes out of my mouth because sarcasm is the only emotion left untouched. Solitary confinement this past week makes me hunger for some human interaction just for the sake of hearing someone’s voice. Now there are too many angry voices. Most are calling for my death. The hecklers and the curious are the least of my problems. My guilt covers everything like a thick fog. I act brave but inside I shudder with fear and remorse. None of this changes anything.
A spectator throws a rock to hit me hard in the face. Pain tells me that life still belongs to me since my head now rings like a bell. Blood comes out of my nose and mouth to run down my neck. I use my shirt sleeve to wipe off the blood. Full shackles keep me from moving around too much. A doctor comes over to tend to me. I refuse his help. So much for wearing that bullet proof vest so that the authorities can kill me when I get inside! What is the purpose of protecting me from the crowd when I am about to die anyway? At this point how I meet my death does not really matter! Death has filled my every moment since my conviction for murder five years ago. Five appeals have only made the waiting more terrible. The state spent over a million dollars to try me in the courts and then to keep me alive until now. What a waste of good money! Kill me and put me out of my misery! The waiting and the indecision are the biggest battle. Guilt has killed me long before anything else will. My body is just an empty shell waiting to be disposed of like so much trash.
The clock shows that an hour is left until midnight. Inside the Death Chamber is a gallery full of all the various family members. Close friends of the numerous people that I am accused of killing are staring at me. None of my family is represented here. They would not help me if I were on fire! They were always jealous of my success. It is too late now for either of us. Most of all, here is some of Angela’s family who all looked like they could kill me solely with their looks of anger and contempt. They would love to have me alone for five minutes to do their worst to me. Seeing their concerned faces make me laugh. Where were they when she needed them so much?
“Now… they really care for her!”
Before I came along she was left on her own to work so many hours that her body and her school work suffered. She lived “hand to mouth” most of the time before I came along. She whined about it all the time. Even during sex. If it weren’t for her many boyfriends giving her physical and financial support, then she would have starved to death or been living on the street as a homeless person. Working minimum wage and part time could not support a hamster. Who could blame her for using her physical charms to her advantage? Many would do the very same thing. Today, that is the way of the world. The tough economy has hurt many people’s lives. All this did not change the facts of my guilt over killing Angela, and those that are affected by her actions that caused the largest number of mass murders in the history of this state. Just make me the scapegoat as the ring leader of the “Off Campus” murders! Many of these dead people would never be missed by anyone as far as I knew. Society has made whole groups of people valued like some trash to be placed in a vast dumpster. Only the rich elite have value. Everyone else is a pawn to be used at will. The same will be true of me since my life no longer holds anything of value.