(Should I start hungering for brains now, or does that come later? Besides falling off a cliff, blacked out and woken up with fangs and claws, I still feel pretty normal.)

Damon looked down at his clawed hands. Without a doubt, they were not the hands of an ordinary person but then again, nothing a good pair of gloves couldn't fix. For his teeth, he just had to keep his mouth shut. The idea of being a zombie had freaked him out at first, but for some reason, the panic didn't last very long as he slowly accepted what he had to. The emotions he felt before felt diluted as if toned down somehow. But, whatever. Right now, the first priority is packing up and making it to the city. Next, he had to find his family. Everything else could wait.

Damon stood up and patted himself off a cloud of dust and dirt flying off from him. His clothes were torn in many places from the fall, and they had holes from where his bones pierced cloth. His clothes were also dyed red from the rain and his blood. If someone saw him now, they would think he looked more like a full-zombie than a half-zombie. Luckily there was no one else around. Damon really didn't want to be confused for a zombie, and worse, he didn't want to find out if he really craved for brains or not.

Damon took a look up at the massive cliff he had fallen off from and started to wordlessly make his way back up to his camp. It took him about 20 minutes of tireless climbing to make it back up to his tent. Everything was as he left it except that everything was now soaked from the rain. A small pool of red rain had accumulated on the top of his tent. Seeing that, Damon quickly emptied out a water bottle to collect the rainwater. He didn't know what it was, but maybe he could get it to someone for analysis. Any information at this point could only help. Damon had felt like he had just walked into the world's biggest puzzle, and he had to collect every useful puzzle piece he could. After putting the water bottle away, Damon got to work packing up his camp. It took him about 15 minutes before he was packed up and in his car speeding down the road, all changed in clean clothes. Sitting next to him in the passenger seat was a black crowbar he had grabbed from his trunk. It was a gift from one of his cousins. He told Damon to always keep a crowbar in the trunk when he first got the car cause a crowbar is always useful. At the time, Damon laughed and thought it was a weird joke, but now he felt it was surprisingly solid advice.

Damon had made it about halfway down the dirt path to the main road before seeing an overturned motorcycle ahead of him. Someone was lying in the middle of the street wearing a black motorcycle helmet with red flames down the side and typical black biker leather gear. If Damon had to make a wild guess, that was probably the bike's owner. Damon's car rolled to a stop a couple of feet away from the accident.

(Should I get out and see if I can help this guy? Or just whip past him? What if I go out there and suddenly feel the urge to eat him? That would be really fucked up! But then again, it would probably be better finding out now in buttfuck nowhere. Instead of when I finally meet a group of people and end up eating one of their faces.)

After a couple of moments of hesitation, Damon decided to get out of the car. He started moving closer to the body, trusty crowbar in hand.

"Hello? Are you okay, man? Still hanging on by a thread?"

Damon spoke out hesitantly, waiting for a reaction. His two hands gripped the crowbar tightly, ready to swing on any movement. Only the wind answered back as it rustled leaves nearby. Damon's head swivelled back and forth, scanning the environment. This continued for a minute before the guy on the road slowly started moving. The body struggled to get up for a second before finally standing upright. It slowly turned to face Damon, the helmet on its head completely obscuring any vision of the guy's head. Then slowly, with outstretched arms, the man started to shuffle towards Damon.

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(Oh shit, that's a fucking zombie, alright.)

"Hey, man, quit fucking playing. This is not funny!"

Yelled out, Damon. He made several empty swings in the air to scare the zombie off while backing away towards his car.

The zombie shuffled closer and closer before making a lunge toward Damon. Seeing the lunge coming, Damon decisively dodged to the left, avoiding the lunge as if foreseeing it. Then, seeing the zombie wide open, Damon swung the crowbar viciously down onto the helmeted zombie's head. The blow sent the zombie stumbling down onto the ground. But the helmet seemed to do its job, and the zombie was slowly getting back on its feet. Once the zombie got up, it started its slow advance once again. Then once again, it made its lunge, and just like before, Damon patiently waited for the lunge, dodged it and swung the crowbar down on the helmet. But the helmet held up, protecting the zombie. Then repeating again, Damon swung the crowbar down on the zombie for the third time. But the third time was not the charm as the zombie got up again, shuffling towards his opponent. Damon quickly backed away, readying himself.

"Man, can you please stop? I'm getting tired, aren't you?"

Damon joked out loud. He was breathing hard, and his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. Those previous strikes had taken quite a lot out of him. But as soon as he finished saying those words, he felt a green flash of light shoot towards the zombie then all he could feel was a pounding feeling in his head. Damon quickly shook himself free from the pain and looked up, fearing the zombie had made a move on him in his daze. But the zombie just stood there, having stopped in his tracks.

(Uh, did this zombie really just stop because I said so?)

The sight before him had Damon seriously confused.

"Sit!"

Trying to test his luck, Damon decided to test his luck again and yelled out another command. Suddenly a green flash shot at the zombie once again, and then the pounding headache appeared again. But just like before, the zombie followed the command and sat down on the concrete. When the headache receded and Damon saw that the zombie had sat down, his mind was blown.

(Well, damn, I got a zombie pet now, I guess.)

Damon cautiously approached the seated zombie. But even as Damon got into almost arms reach of the zombie, there was still no reaction from it. Damon got closer and closer, yet still no response. Eventually, Damon got close enough to flip the visor on the zombie's helmet up, and a pair of glowing bright green eyes stared back at him. The moment their eyes met, Damon felt a flood of memories enter his mind. Suddenly it was as if he was looking through someone else's eyes and he was someone else. The person he was looking through was sitting atop a bright red and black motorcycle riding through the valley like a meteor as the rider kept accelerating down the road. The bike's engine roaring. Damon could not only see what the rider was doing but also experience his emotions and read his thoughts. But right now, Damon was focusing on the feeling of euphoria and excitement as the rider indulged in the joy of speeding. Then suddenly, a heavy wave of rain started to fall upon the rider. The onslaught of rain sent a wave of panic through the rider. The slick roads gave the bike's tire little purchase as the road curved, and the rider crashed. The rider's last thought was of how the rain felt against his skin. Then suddenly, Damon was back in his body, staring at the zombie.

(What the fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk. That was his last memories, weren't they? How the hell did I just see that?)

Damon stared at the zombie in confusion again. But this time, Damon saw a light green thread tied around the zombie's neck, leading to his left wrist.

(Did this appear cause I saw his memories, or did I see his memories because of this link?)

Damon only felt more and more lost as the day went on. Well, whatever. Damon decided to shake off his confusion and just keep on moving. He was already a half-zombie. Any other weird stuff ranked below that. At least he's got a travel companion now.

"Well, I'm going to name you Zombo, and you're going to be my number one lackey."

Damon patted Zombo on the shoulder and left him sitting there as he headed towards the crashed bike.