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“It’s not exactly brain surgery.”
Techno was at their wits end. They were going to throw up, they were going to explode, they don’t know what they’ll do, but they hope they do it fast because they are at their wits end. Their zombie companion either doesn’t realize or doesn’t care about Techno’s deteriorating mental state as he blows hair out of his face, arms crossed and frown obvious as Techno pulls their hands back and sighs, exhausted.
“Yes, Theseus, it literally is,” they reply, deadpan and annoyed. Techno really hopes that whatever high power decided this would be funny gets killed soon, ‘cause they would really like to go back to their English major — Techno wanted to be a writer, not a brain surgeon. Maybe a coroner would be a better term, since their patient was technically deceased.
Tommy groans as Techno lifts their hands to return to their current task. Tommy, for whatever reason, thought it would be a wonderful idea to break a window of a store Techno had tried getting into. Unfortunately, the only breakable windows were on top of the building, leading Tommy to take a 25 foot drop to the tile floors below. Thankfully, zombies are mostly indestructible to large falls, but not to stab wounds. In other words, Tommy had glass embedded in his head, and it made Techno uncomfortable to look at, so they were removing it with the tools on hand: a knife, nail file, and their fingers. Some would say it was gross, but it was just the life of having an undead, younger sibling.
The zombie apocalypse turned out to be much different than anyone would suspect. The zombies weren’t braindead, they were just as human mentally as they previously were, the change was all physical. And technically, they weren’t even dead because none of them had really died. It was more of a blood-borne virus than anything. If it weren’t for people’s misconceptions about them, society could probably continue on the way it was, and zombies would have just been another part of day-to-day life; unfortunately, that didn’t happen, and mass panic is what caused the apocalypse.
Tommy began picking at the decayed skin of his fingers as Techno began the painstaking process of trying to wedge the glass foreward. They didn’t know how exactly a zombie’s brain worked, but he knew it didn’t really do anything for them; with or without, they could walk, talk, and function normally. It really would’ve helped if people didn’t accuse the government of lying when they said zombies were harmless, then Techno could’ve had some research to go off of.
Tommy began to writhe underneath his hand, making Techno’s task of moving the glass close enough, so they could pull it out much more difficult. Techno groaned as Tommy turned slightly, causing them to lose their place beside the glass.
“ Tommy ,” they scolded, pinching their nose bridge with a bloody hand.
“What? I didn’t do anything!” he argued, recrossing his arms as he tried to stay still. Techno sighed and moved to lean over to look in the younger’s eyes.
“I get that this is boring for you, but we have to get this done,” Techno said, trying to sound as sympathetic as possible yet remain firm. Tommy huffed, hunching in on himself as he frowned. Techno patted Tommy’s hair, avoiding the left side where his skull had been cracked; he’s lucky none of the glass went too far in, or Techno would have to cut his hair off, something neither of them would be happy about. “As soon as this is done, we can go explore the rest of the mall,” they relented. Tommy sighed.
“Fine, ‘m sorry,” he mumbled, fiddling with his sleeves as Techno smiled at him. Techno leaned back into their previous position as they started their previous work on the glass; there were only three shards left, but they were deep, hence why Techno left them for last. Maybe a bad idea, but Techno studied literature, not anatomy.
As Techno finally removed that stubborn piece of glass, Tommy began shifting again. They sighed; this was gonna take awhile.