{"id":872,"date":"2011-11-25T12:57:05","date_gmt":"2011-11-25T18:57:05","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/?p=872"},"modified":"2011-11-26T15:00:25","modified_gmt":"2011-11-26T21:00:25","slug":"872","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/?p=872","title":{"rendered":"A Peaceful Resolution"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Bloated, post Thanksgiving zombie. Word count: 41,792<\/p><\/div>\n

Coming into the home stretch here. All these threads of plotline (chasing Tim Stimph; the Zombie Hunter) are loose…. Potential for each of them. Maybe Tim Stimph started the virus himself? Maybe the Zombie Hunter kills him? Maybe maybe maybe….<\/p>\n

Meanwhile, I seem to be content to just write dialogue between Zach and Westy.<\/p>\n

\n
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Awkward silence extended into a full-fledged cessation of conversation. I guessed that Westy finally listened to me.<\/p>\n

Which was all well and good, and what I had wanted, obviously, but I had to admit Westy had given good advice on getting me into the building, and probably would have an idea or two about how to get us into Stimph\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s apartment. Also, I was never happy when I knew someone was mad at me, or giving me the silent treatment. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d do whatever I could — assuming I gave a shit about the person\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s opinion — to make amends, to keep the peace. Besides, even though Westphail had turned me into whatever it was that I currently am, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d grown accustomed to Westy\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s voice. While I valued moments of silence, this one was different: intentional, weighty.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Westy, look. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m sorry. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m sorry about what I said up on the roof, and just now. I know it seems like I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m a solid, well-adjusted, mentally stable rock of a man –\u00e2\u20ac\u009d If Westy had a face, I know he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d have a confused look on it, as if to say, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Brains.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Are you sure you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re talking about yourself? — \u00e2\u20ac\u0153…or maybe not so much. But, you have to admit I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m taking this pretty well. I know this isn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t how you planned things. I know you expected to invade my body, shut down all my vital systems and carry me along on a mad kill-crazy rampage until I got decapitated, eviscerated, and incinerated, or until, I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t know, whatever grand master scheme you had in mind was completed, and that having a still-sentient, thinking, somewhat-feeling thing who has yet to even try to sample the brains of a human being doesn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t really line up with your goals of the day. I know you must be frustrated, and yeah, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m frustrated too. I mean, don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t think there isn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t a part of me who doesn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t wish that I was just a brainless automaton shambling around town, tearing into human flesh without a care in the world. Sure, that sounds like fun, like maybe a better way to spend my time than climbing buildings, jumping between rooftops, trying to kick down doors, all that. Really, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d rather just be back in my apartment, waiting for the end to come. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d gottten pretty good at that. But, hell, this is how it is. This is the new reality. This is what\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s what. We\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve got to just make the best of it. Bickering back and forth, trying to hurt each other, what does that accomplish? I know, yeah, sometimes we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re going to get on each other\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s nerves and say things that we might regret, but let\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not forget that we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re on the same team here. We\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve got to make the best of it.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

I took a deep breath. There were some moments of silence then, and I wondered if I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d said too much, or come across as weak, or just been completely wrong. Maybe all my reasoning had falled on deaf ears. Maybe Westy didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t give a shit about peaceful cohabitation. As a matter of fact, I thought, why would he? He was just a virus. It was just a virus. Fine, if it wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t going to make the effort to make things tolerable for the both of us, then I wouldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t either. See how it likes it when I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t ever eat a single brain. When I go around just —<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Brains.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

I was too wrapped up in my thoughts to catch the nuances of the word. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153What was that, Westy?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I asked.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Brains.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d You are right. We are sorry. You do not need to \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcgrow a pair.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Well alright!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I shouted. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I wish we could high five. Or \u00e2\u20ac\u02dchug it out.\u00e2\u20ac\u2122\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Brains.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d That is not necessary.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153No, I suppose you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re right.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Brains.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d So….<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153So….\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Brains.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d The door.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Yeah. Another door.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I tried the handle again. Still locked.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Brains.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Perhaps there is a key.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Coming into the home stretch here. All these threads of plotline (chasing Tim Stimph; the Zombie Hunter) are loose…. Potential for each of them. Maybe Tim Stimph started the virus himself? Maybe the Zombie Hunter kills him? Maybe maybe maybe…. Meanwhile, I seem to be content to just write dialogue between Zach and Westy. Awkward […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[109],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-872","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-nanowrimo"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/872","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=872"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/872\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=872"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=872"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=872"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}