Page 34 of Zinnia and the Zombie
The male looked down at something beyond the recording’s view.
“Sephalia died this morning. The children followed within hours. I’ve administered the final mercy to them all rather than watch them suffer.” His voice cracked. “The plague leaves nothing of what they were. Only shells, consumed from within.”
Her hand crept into his and he clung to it.
“I remain only to complete this record. To warn anyone who might find our world. The spores lie dormant in the soil, in the water. We thought we could control them, harness them for our own purposes. We were wrong.”
The Architect’s form wavered.
“I can feel them inside me now. Soon, I will join my family. Our hubris destroyed us. May whatever gods exist forgive our arrogance.”
The hologram flickered and died.
Silence filled the room, heavy and oppressive as the memories came rushing back. He felt as if he were drowning in sorrow, only her touch keeping him from slipping under completely.
“My people,” he said, his voice hoarse. “It was similar. A biological agent that ravaged our systems. Not a natural plague, but a weapon.”
His grief was too overwhelming for him to remain still, and he released her hand, pacing from one side of the room to the other as she watched him, her eyes warm and compassionate.
He pulled away from her, pacing the room like a caged predator, golden skin dimming with his distress.
“Our enemies created it specifically for Zathix physiology. It didn’t kill immediately—it destroyed our ability to enter stasis. Without that defense, we were vulnerable.” His voice grew rough. “My crew—we were searching for a cure. That is why this place seemed so familiar. I’d never been here but I’d studied in hope of finding an answer. When that failed, we looked for any survivors. We’d received scattered transmissions suggesting isolated colonies might have developed resistance.”
He stopped before the console, feeling the weight of that failure on his shoulders.
“Now they’re gone too. And I remain. Always, I remain.” The bitterness in his voice cut like a blade. “I fear my people are gone. That I am truly the last.”
“The Architects, the Zathix… both advanced civilizations, both destroyed.” He stared at hands as the golden glow began to fade. “Perhaps this is the natural order. Perhaps all civilizations are destined to burn bright, then extinguish themselves.”
He felt her come to him and heard the faint whisper of silk before her naked body pressed against his back and her arms wrapped around him, holding on to him with surprising strength.
“You are not alone,” she whispered against his skin. “I’m here with you.”
He stiffened, then slowly turned in her embrace and reached down to gently frame her face.
“For how long? What if I go into stasis again and lose you? Time could take you from me.”
She reached up, lightly tracing the contours of his face.
“Then we make the most of whatever time we have,” she said simply. “Whether it’s days or decades.”
He shuddered and pulled her against his chest, clinging to her as if he could physically prevent the future from tearing her away. She held him as he grieved—for his lost crew, his vanished species, for civilizations turned to dust, and for the inevitable moment when death would separate them too. She held him with all the strength in her human body, letting her warmth and her heartbeat anchor him to the present.
“I never expected to find you,” he said, his voice muffled against her hair. “To want to live rather than merely survive.”
“I never expected you either.” She tilted her head back to smile up at him. “My zombie, my protector, my lover.”
His arms tightened around her. “More than that, Zinnia. You are my heart.”
“And you are mine,” she whispered back, and he felt the truth of it resonating through his entire being. “Now come with me. Let’s leave the ghosts for tomorrow.”
He nodded, allowing her to lead him from the room, away from the console with its records of extinction. He made love to her with a quiet desperate intensity, and she returned his passion in equal measure, her body a haven, a balm for his tortured soul.
“We’ll find a way,” she said softly as they lay tangled together afterwards. “If there are other Zathix out there, we’ll find them.”
He stroked her hair, taking comfort in the soft strands. “And if there aren’t?”
She raised her head to meet his gaze directly. “Then we’ll build something new. Together.”
