“Damn punks!” cried the hobo on the other side of the door. “I’ll fuck you, fucking punks!”
Then the homeless guy twisted Popcorn’s leg, as if he was trying to twist it off. Popcorn just giggled at him and grabbed Scavy by the shoulder.
“Help!” she cried, then laughed.
Scavy grabbed her under the arms and pulled, then pushed off against the door with his foot. The door opened and hit the hobo and the face, causing him to let go. They both ran off, laughing, then hid under the dock and did some lines of Waste.
Once they were high, Scavy asked, “What’s your name?”
“Poppy,” she said. “But some people call me Popcorn.”
They became good friends after that. They used to go out and wreak havoc on the neighborhoods. Scavy would steal a crate of fish from the docks and then they would throw them at strippers in the redlight district. Poppy would sleep with the local tattooist to get them both free tattoos. Then they would shit in crates of produce that was to get shipped to the upper quadrants. She was Scavy’s kind of person.
One of Popcorn’s favorite things to do was spray paint pictures on the wall separating Copper and Silver, usually of muscular women with pink mohawks sneering and flipping the middle finger. They would have dialog bubbles that were supposed to be insulting, but never quite hit their mark. Stuff like: “Silver Sucks!” or “Fuck off, filthy scum!” or “think fast, fuckers!” which is one that really made no sense to anyone else except for Scavy and Poppy.
Popcorn was a huge fan of the “think fast” game. Whenever Scavy wasn’t looking, she would say “think fast!” and then throw an apple or a rock at him. Sometimes he would catch the object, sometimes he wouldn’t. Scavy knew that when Poppy said “think fast” trouble was coming.
One day, while they were doing lines of Waste, Poppy said, “Think fast!” and then stabbed a knife through Scavy’s hand, nailing it to the table.
Scavy just looked at the knife in his hand and back up at Popcorn who had a goofy “I totally got you” look on her face.
“What the fuck!” Scavy yelled, his blood mixing with the lines of Waste on the table.
“You’re too slow,” she said, then snorted one of the lines with his blood in it.
Scavy tried to pull the knife out of his hand, but it was jammed into the table pretty good. He just sighed and shook his head at Poppy, his blood on her nostril. When you’re friends with a crazy unpredictable bitch, you’ve got to take the good with the bad.
They started dating, for a while, but both of them knew that wasn’t going to stick. Popcorn wasn’t the type to get serious with anyone for very long. She just gets bored too easily. But Scavy relates to that. He’s the exact same way.
A couple of days ago, Scavy told her, “So I think we should break up and shit.”
And all she did was shrug, and said, “Yeah, sure. You wanna do a line?”
“Yeah.”
And that was it
As Scavy watches Popcorn shiver and spit, he taps the bottom of his spear against the concrete roof. Junko notices that he’s finally come to terms with his friend’s condition. She goes to him.
“We have to take care of her,” Junko says, holding up the 9mm. “Before she changes.”
Scavy nods a few too many times. “Yeah, okay.”
“I’ll do it if you want,” Junko says.
“No, I’ll do it,” Scavy says, reaching for the gun.
“Make sure she doesn’t see it coming,” Junko says, blocking the sight of the handoff from his girlfriend. “It’ll be easier for her that way.”
“Yeah. Easier.”
“Shoot her before she even knows what’s going on.”
“Yeah, I can do that.”
“Okay,” Junko says, and pats him on the shoulder. “I’m sorry…”
Then he turns to Popcorn. He takes a deep breath and points the gun at her. A smile appears on his face as he gets a funny idea for how to handle this.
“Hey, Poppy,” he says.
She looks up at him.
“Think fast.”
Then he shoots her in the face.
“What the fuck, Scavy?” Popcorn says to him, as blood drips from the bullet hole in her forehead.
The other three just stare at her.
“Umm…” Scavy leans over to Junko. “She didn’t die.”
Popcorn wipes her forehead and then looks at the blood on her fingers. “You think that’s funny, asshole?”
“She’s already turned,” Junko says, taking the handgun from the punk and pointing it at the punk chick.
Poppy looks behind her at the blood on the wall, then she stands up and goes to them. “You’re such a dick.”
“Stay back!” Junko says.
Popcorn stops. Junko isn’t sure if she even knows what is going on.
“Why isn’t she trying to eat our brains?” Rainbow asks.
Junko shakes her head. “I have no idea.”
Scavy knows why she isn’t hungry for brains. It’s because Popcorn doesn’t get hungry for anything. Ever since he knew her she has been that way. She had done so much Waste growing up that it had destroyed the nervous tissue in her stomach and through much of her body. She could eat all she wanted and never feel the sensation of being full or she could starve herself for weeks and never get hungry.
That was why she was so skinny. She didn’t ever get hungry for food. She never even had cravings for food. The act of eating to her was just chewing a flavorless substance and then depositing it inside of her body. If she didn’t get weak and tired from lack of food she would have just stopped eating altogether. Now that she’s a zombie, it’s not any different.
“So what do we do?” Rainbow asks.
“We can’t take her with us,” Junko says.
“But I’m fine,” Popcorn says.
“We don’t know if you’re going to stay fine,” Junko says. “And, besides, you’re still infectious.”
Popcorn sticks her pinky finger in her bullet hole and then pulls it out again, then smiles as if the act is amusing.
“But it would be cruel to just leave her here…” Scavy says.
Junko says, “You put a bullet in her head like it was a joke, but you think leaving her is cruel?”
“I don’t want her coming with us,” Rainbow says.
“Well, I think she should,” Scavy says.
“Two to one,” Junko says. “She stays. Trust me, it’s for the best.”
They look at her smelling the brain blood on her finger. She tastes it. The taste of brain makes her cringe.
“Besides,” Junko says. “She’s a zombie now. All the other zombies will treat her like one of them and leave her alone. She’ll most likely survive longer than any of us.”
“Hey, yeah,” Scavy says. “That’s kind of fucking badass. She’ll be like the queen of the zombies.”
“But I don’t want to be the queen of the zombies,” Popcorn says. “I want to kill zombies, with you.”
Scavy shakes his head. “We’ve got to go on without you.”
