Zoey & The Heartless Zombies

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window.

Zoey had driven through the heavy rains of the night to reach her father’s cabin. She had packed a small bag with socks, underwear, a few pairs of pants and a sweater, as well as some personal items like a photo of her parents on their honeymoon in Honduras, her favourite watch, which had been passed onto her by her great-grandmother, and a silver heart-shaped locket, in which she had yet to put a picture.

She had left most of her belongings behind, back in her glamorous penthouse apartment, which overlooked Manhattan’s Upper West Side. On the surface, Zoey had it all: a highly successful career as the CEO of a big-time advertising agency, weekly events where she would mingle with Manhattan’s elite, a fancy car, the kind of walk-in closet a woman only ever dreams of. She left behind a life of luxury – but not by choice. No, it was definitely not her choice.

She had to escape.

In just 48 hours, Manhattan had been ravaged by a mysterious airborne virus that attacked the heart and nothing else. Once infected, one died within minutes. Jerking muscles, delusions, hallucinations: a slow painful death, as the heart could no longer pump joy throughout the body. All over Manhattan, full body suits collapsed as they hurried to their next meeting, scoffed down a meal before getting back to their to-dos, or indulged in their third coffee of the day. However, it was what happened next to these bodies that sent a wave of terror among those who were still standing: one by one, the lifeless rose, dragging their mangled corpses toward the living with one word on their lips, “Heart”. Over the span of 48 hours, Manhattan had gone from the land of dreams to the land of the dead.

All of this, Zoey had witnessed with her own eyes, yet she had somehow managed to remain uninfected. She was one of the lucky ones – her inner light was still beating.

She had spent the last 48 hours hidden in the basement garage of her apartment building. That was where she and other surviving residents had sought shelter: three women in their 50s, a seemingly stray dog and a young man who spoke not a word of English. Within the walls of this basement, they sat in the illusion that they were all in this together, but deep down, they knew it was every man and woman for themselves. Zoey could not stop thinking about her father; how much she missed him and how much she wished he was there with her.

“He would have known what to do, he always knew what to do,” she thought.

Zoey had exchanged many glances with the other survivors, but only very few words. In this basement, fear had replaced words. Zoey strongly believed that the eyes were a window into what a person was feeling or thinking, a sort of window to the soul, and it was through these momentary glances that she was able to see they could not be trusted. She felt she would not be safe there for much longer, either the heartless zombies would find a way in, or the other survivors would begin to turn on her. The only thing that brought Zoey comfort in that basement was the dog, a beautiful golden-black German Shepard that had not left her side.

***

Zoey’s mother had passed away when she was seven, caught behind the wheel of an unfortunate car accident with a drunk driver. Zoey’s father had done the best he could to raise Zoey alone and had never remarried. After his wife passed, he had decided to sell his Manhattan apartment and buy a tiny cabin in the woods, nestled in the Catskill Mountains of southeastern New York. He had spent most of his remaining years in this cabin, living off the land and taking in all the natural beauty that surrounded him every single day. His heart was happy there, away from all the hustle and bustle of the city.

Zoey visited every year, but she now wished she would have more often. She was simply always so busy with work and the glitter and glam of Manhattan. She never quite understood why her father had moved so far away from the city, but she never really bothered to ask him either. And he never really bothered to ask her why she wanted to stay in the city – she seemed happy, and that made him happy.

It had now been three years since her father had left her world, he had passed away peacefully of old age in the comfort of his cabin. A few days after his passing, Zoey had met with his lawyer to read over his will, and that was when she discovered he had left her the cabin.

“This cabin is my happy place; it is where I have come to disconnect with the world and reconnect with myself. I want you to have this cabin, my dear Zoey. May you come here whenever you wish to sit in the comfort and clarity of your own heart.”

At first, Zoey did not want the cabin, but she had decided to keep it anyway because she knew how much it meant to her father.

***

On what was going to be her third night in the garage basement of her apartment building, Zoey decided to try her hand at hot-wiring one of the abandoned vehicles while everyone was sleeping and make a break for it. With her, she took her little bag of belongings and the dog, which she had lovingly named Joy because of the joyful spark in his eyes, which in turn, always made her feel a little joy.

She drove north for hours, first through the empty, lifeless streets of Manhattan, and then on an empty I-87 N highway. She had been lucky, for she had only encountered a dozen walking corpses along the way, which she had been able to manoeuvre around with her vehicle. However, her luck also made her wonder where they had all went…

And now, here she was, parked right in front of the cabin she had resisted for so long.

She grabbed her little bag and told Joy to come out of the car. She stood before the cabin, warm rain streaming down her cheeks.

“I don’t understand how he lived here for so long. He must have been so bored, all alone … just him and the woods – but at least, we are safe here,” Zoey said, looking over at Joy.

Joy was off in the nearby trees, sniffing away and already loving his new home.

“Alright, let’s go inside. It’s pouring rain out here. Come on, Joy,” insisted Zoey.

Joy listened. The key to the cabin was hidden under a medium-sized rock behind the main wooden stairs, as per her father’s instructions. Zoey cleaned the dirt off the key, walked up the stairs and stood before the door, slowing sliding the key into the rusty lock.

“It still works!” she yelled with a sigh of relief.

The one-level cabin was made entirely of maple logs. It had a fireplace for cooking and heating and candles for light. Zoey lit a few of the candles, placing one on the ledge of the cabin’s front window. Now that the cabin was lit, she could see that her father’s belongings were still more or less intact. Pots and pans were still neatly hanging on the back wall, the pantry was stocked with enough delicious homemade preserves to last her an entire year, the bed was made, with three little decorative pillows and a heavy blanket for extra warmth. Everything she would need to survive the next few weeks – until she figured out her next move – was here.

“This is actually quite nice,” she thought as she curiously meandered through the cabin.

A few hours had passed, and Zoey’s eyelids began to grow heavy. She hadn’t really slept in that garage basement, for she felt she always had to keep an eye open.

“Alright, let’s try to get some rest. Come on, Joy. Tomorrow is a new day,” said Zoey.

***

The early morning sun gently entered the cabin as resident birds signalled the beginning of a new day.

“I don’t think I’ve ever woken up to birds chirping before, this is actually quite lovely,” expressed Zoey as she slowly stretched and caressed her new dog, Joy.

She rose from the bed and went to the pantry looking for coffee. To her happy surprise, she found a container filled to the brim with ground beans; the sweet aroma of coffee instantly lifted her mood.

“Thank you, Dad!” she thought.

She went out to the well at the front of the cabin to get some fresh water, which she then boiled on the fireplace to make her morning cup. Incredibly content with her heart-warming treat, she sat on the couch, gazing around the cabin.

“What shall we do with our day, Joy? I don’t think I’ve ever asked myself that question before, can you believe it? I’ve always had other people tell ME what I had to do throughout my day,” expressed Zoey.

Joy innocently stared into her eyes.

“Oh, I see. You’re already doing what makes you happy. Sitting here, enjoying some pats, not a care in the world,” said Zoey, lovingly landing a kiss on Joy’s head.

“Alright, well, I will try to do the same then!”

Zoey continued exploring her father’s belongings. She found books, so many books. Books on the forest, books on wildlife, books on cooking, books on love, books on the soul and the journey of life. She found a collection of journals, in which her father had written over the years. She found paints, paintbrushes and a few blank canvases, as well as a pair of binoculars, which she assumed her father used to go bird-watching. There were so many birds here, it was like being surrounded by nature’s orchestra.

Zoey spent the following week journaling, reading, painting, bird-watching and taking Joy for walks; always surrendering to her heart’s desires. She felt at peace here, tucked away in the silence of the woods. She realised that she could hear her own thoughts here, feel her own feelings.

At the end of day seven, Zoey sat by the fire with a warm cup of tea in hand, reflecting on her lovely week in the cabin, alone with Joy.

“So, this is what it feels like to be happy. I don’t think I’ve ever felt truly happy,” she said to herself.

Joy had enjoyed his week too, engaging in the simple pleasures of a dog’s life: eating, sleeping and playing. Together, they sat peacefully in the comfort of well-nourished hearts.

BOOM!

“What was that?” yelled Zoey, running to the front window to see if anyone, or anything, was there.

Joy ran to the door and began to bark hysterically.

“Oh no, they’re here! How did they find me!” yelled Zoey, hurriedly grabbing everything she could to barricade the front door and window.

As she nailed planks of wood to the window, she watched as hundreds of heartless zombies dragged their feet toward the cabin, bringing with them a cacophony of grunts and growls, and the sporadic, “Heart!” They wanted Zoey’s heart.

“What am I going to do! We’re surrounded!” shouted Zoey.

Joy continued to bark hysterically at the door.

With a hammer in her right hand and a candle in her left for light, Zoey stood in the middle of the cabin awaiting her faith. Through the window, she could see that the heartless zombies were now only a few metres away.

BOOM!

One of them had managed to get onto the roof, triggering a wave of deafening stomps.

“I swear, if I survive this, I will never work another corporate job ever again!”

Suddenly, the candle’s flame grew a little taller…

Dozens of heartless zombies were now on the front porch, punching away at the wooden door. It wasn’t long before they punched a hole right through it, and Zoey was now making eye contact with one of them – a woman who once held so much sadness in her eyes.

“I will do more of what brings me joy, like reading, cooking and painting! Maybe I’ll even offer painting workshops to children! I’ve always loved children!”

The candle’s flame grew even taller…

Three heartless zombies had now entered the cabin through the broken window, crawling over the windowsill one mangled limb at a time, inching closer and closer to Zoey’s heart.

“I will allow myself to feel love, to be loved! I will let love into my life!”

The candle’s flame grew taller and taller…

The cabin was now filled with heartless zombies. Zoey was surrounded – she knew she had nowhere to go.

“I will be present and let my heart guide me to my best life! Just like you did, Dad.”

The candle’s flame was now a ball of fire as tall as Zoey.

The heartless zombies were now inches away, and Zoey could feel their lifeless hands beginning to claw away at her sweater.

“I will be joyful and share my joy with the world!”

The ball of fire engulfed the entire cabin, and suddenly, all the heartless zombies disappeared.