First glimpse of Eddie

“Go away,” he grumbled through dry scabby lips.  The tickling was annoying.  Eddie’s brain focused on opening his eyes, but something wasn’t working right.  His eyes hurt, along with his scalp and hair.  Sleep.  I want more sleep.

The tickling continued.  He found the motivation to flex his arm up.  The palm of his hand slapped at his cheek, then his forehead.  Gaining more control he rubbed at his broad nose.  He heard the rustling of leaves and imagined he must be camping. 

The tickling became persistent.  He swatted, and stuck a finger in his left ear. 

Birds swooped down and surrounded him.  Some chattering and some doing that pecking dance.  Eddie was comforted by the smell of loam, grass, and something sweet, like flowers.  Maybe roses.  By rolling over he disturbed the birds.  The flapping of their black wings and bird cries seemed deafening and offensive, but by the same token, Eddie’s blood-shot eyes burst open.

He felt a subtle breeze lift a few strands of his ash colored hair.  I’m outside.  I slept outside?

Focusing was a painstaking dilemma of pressing his knuckles into his dry eyes, with the effort of clearing of his wavy vision.  He never noticed the dozen or so ants scurrying around his clothes.  Am I dead, or what?  He’d been sleeping with dead people in a cemetery on a fresh grave.  A sick feeling in the pit of his stomach made him shudder.  I really am dead.

Eddie watched a red squirrel chase another up a tree.  Not only am I dead, but I’m seeing things.

“Oh crap.  I’m a zombie. Better go get me some squirrel brains,” he chuckled to no one.



Eddie pulled himself up to a sitting position, brushing off grass and grime from his vintage Megadeth t-shirt.  His eyes darted around like a wild animal looking for escape.  He guessed it was early morning by the position of the sun; however, he didn’t have a clue to what day it might be.  His hands searched his jean pockets for his cell phone without success.  Getting to his feet, he noticed the backpack he’d been resting his head on.  It didn’t look familiar, nor did it belong to him, but he was curious enough to look inside for his phone. 

Squatting down, he grasped the wide zipper tag and pulled it a few inches open.  Peering inside, he fell back on his ass.  Now what have you done?  He reached in and pulled out the first stack of hundreds.