Free Curse of the Immune by Levi Doone Page B

backyard, where we see Rudy’s handiwork. Four zombies, or Zebs, are tied to four trees. They’re motionless and all have head wounds.
    “I see you’ve been busy this morning.” I then see Bruno charging at me from the woods. When he gets to me, he jumps at my legs a few times. I squat to pet him. “Morning, little guy. I forgot about you.”
    Rudy goes to one of the trees where an aluminum baseball bat leans against it. He picks it up and hands it to Guille. He then pulls a large knife from his belt and gives it to Maria. “This is a Ka-bar. It’s the combat knife of the marine corps.”
    “Aw, why does she get a knife?” Guille whined.
    “Because you’re stronger and I’m sure you know how to swing a bat.” Rudy turns his attention to me. “And I see you have the bayonet.”
    “Rudy, I don’t know about this,” I complain.
    “I’ve already killed them, so they can’t hurt you.”
    “Yeah, but still this is just gross.”
    “Look, we’re doing this. I’m not going anywhere with you guys ‘til I know you can take care of yourselves. I can’t do everything, and who knows when we’ll have another chance like this? I just want to show you how to use the weapons I gave you.” We all stay quiet. “Okay, hold your blades like you’re going to stick it in one of the Zebs.”
    I hold mine in my fist, blade pointing up.
    Rudy cracks a half smile. “That’s good for dicing some tomatoes, but this ain’t cooking class.” He shows me to hold it blade down opposite my thumb. He then pulls another knife from his belt and walks up to a Zeb, sticking the knife deep into its eye socket. The entire blade sinks in the thing’s skull. “You gotta kill the brain. Make sure you jam it deep enough.” He then yanks out the blade in one quick jerk. “Lea, give it a try.”
    Oh man, I don’t want to do this. I walk to the next corpse and raise the bayonet to the dead thing’s left eyeball and stare at it. “Come on, stupid. Do it,” I say to myself. This is humiliating. I once again freeze in place, petrified by looking at a harmless undead that’s dead.
    “Lea, it won’t hurt you. Just stick him.” Rudy sounds annoyed.
    “I can’t do it. It’s just gross.” I lower my arm. “I’d not be right in the head if this stuff didn’t bother me. Just two days ago, I was texting my friends and watching TV, and just like that, I’m supposed to become this great threat to zombie-kind?”
    “You only have two choices now: live or die.”
    I take a deep breath. “I know you’re right. It’s just hard for me.” I raise my blade again and shove it toward the eyeball but stop an inch or so from my target. I hold it there for a moment, when the blade shoots into the eye. My hand holds it, but I didn’t do it. Rudy stands behind. He hit the handle of the bayonet as I hesitated. The noise it made was like a foot sticking in mud. Gross. I let go of the blade and back into Rudy.
    “Don’t stop now! Get up there and pull it out! Finish the job!”
    My teeth clench and my head heats like a kettle ready to burst steam. I feel like punching Rudy in the head. This I know I could do without any problem so long as he keeps yelling at me.
    I think he reads the anger on my face and knows I’ve had it. He reaches over me and grabs the bayonet to pull it out. It makes an awful sucking sound. That along with the orangey congealed blood and a dead corpse missing most of both eyes makes my stomach turn, and I begin to feel not so great. Like lightheaded not so great.
    Rudy’s talking to me, explaining something about the training exercise, when the ground starts to move and I collapse at Rudy’s boots, releasing my fruity breakfast all over them. If I didn’t feel so sick, I’d laugh. Wish I can see his face. I’m impressed he doesn’t move away, kicking puke off his boots. He just stays there like nothing happened.
    After breakfast exits my gut and I heave a few more times, Rudy says, “If you’re done, get up and