My Marianne is a Zombie Battlefield

‘Hold up, fellas!” I yelled.

We were clearing the valley hotspot. It was dirty work. Some of the Zekes were
faster and craftier than the others, so we had to watch out when we put them down. The virus had decimated this area, everything was dead. Some of them retained memories, however basic, of their past lives – the kids were the worst.

It was late on the second night, we were tired, and got orders to clear down the local casino. I’d dated a girl there once, it was a long time ago. We cleared the rooms, most were empty, some were not. As we worked our way backstage, I heard the music.

“Both of us knowing,
Love is a battlefield…”

It was her favorite song, ‘Love is a battlefield‘ by Pat Benatar. She loved the classics. She couldn’t have still been working here when the pandemic hit, could she?

Inching down the corridor, we hit the door textbook style. It wasn’t dark inside, there was still power. I had yelled the order as our eyes met, the song continuing ironically in the background,

“But if we get much closer,
I could lose control,
And if your heart surrenders,
You’ll need me to hold.”

“Shit,” I thought, “in death she’s still pretty.” I closed my eyes and slipped away….

She had been posing in front of the mirror, I guess the narcissism that broke us up was still there. She turned, gargled a few words, posed again, then Rivera let her have it. I stood, stunned, looking at the lifeless heap on the floor, as the song ended.

“Both of us knowing,
Love is a battlefield.”

Hicks clapped my shoulder as they filed out into the sunlight.
“When you hear that old song, brother,” he said, “don’t be dreaming.”
“Yeah,” I nodded, as the guitar riff reached its crescendo, signifying the end of this vignette.


“Damn, I wish my Marianne had walked away.”

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