I could feel her trying to look at me in her peripheral vision. Annoyance shot through me. She wanted her to be grateful as I undoubtedly saved her life and not eyeing me like a criminal. But she should be looking at me like a fugitive. I was worse than a criminal; I was a monster that was trying desperately to push the thoughts of cracking her skull open like an egg. She knew something was off.

"Let me save you the trouble of straining," I finally offered in a coarse tone that somehow seemed also to convey boredom. I hadn't realized how tired I was of being a zombie. As I pushed up the sleeve of my hoodie, revealing my unmistakable green hue, a pang of mourning for normalcy surged through me.

"Zombie," crossed her lips on a breath as she instinctively leaned closer to her door.

"Try not to go all fangirl on me... I'm taken."

"A funny zombie in a relationship; first time for everything." There was an awkward pause in the air. "I thought zombies had a one-track mind on..."

"Brains? Yeah, well, I'm an evolved zombie."

"Zombies can evolve?"

"Perhaps evolve is not the right word, Moshio." How quickly the roles had changed. Just over a week ago, I had been learning about an evolved zombie. Now Avi was dead, and I was in a car with a goldfish and a healthy human explaining the concept of a thinking zombie.

"Um, is that an anime character?"

I let out a laugh. "No, it's a sea salt." I flicked his shades down to reveal my black eyes to accent my status as a zombie. "A very scarce salt made from saltwater and seaweed. And, it happens to give consciousness back to zombies."

"For real, why did I not know this?"

"Well, here's the thing; for most zombies, when they regain consciousness, it means they realize they're dead."

"Very self-aware, which would make you oblivious to the fact that you are dead?"

Another laugh came out gruffly from my chest. It was an honest laugh that hurt my ribs from its unfamiliarity yet also began to dissuade the constant urge to focus on her brain. "You're a delight. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"People have mentioned it before." There was a silence that hung heavy in the car. "So, assuming you're not a clueless brain-bot..."

A mournful sigh escaped before I even thought it to exist. "You ask many questions with very few thank yous."

"Thank you?" She cocked an eyebrow.

"Wow, two-for-one. You realize I just saved your life, right?"

"I may suspect that, or you could be saving me for yourself."

"Not my style. My mom taught me not to play with my food. Besides, you must have some faith; you got in the car."

"Mmhmm, one zombie seemed better than one hundred, plus I like your sunglasses and fish." She held up the Ball jar, "what's his name?"

"He doesn't have one."

"You have a pet fish with no name?"

"Fine, his name is Pet." She was becoming exhausting, and I missed the quiet presence of Avi.

"Pet, you want to name him Pet. Even children would at least settle on Fish," she scolded. "When I was a kid, I had a fish. His name was Woof."

"And that's better than Pet? Fish don't bark," I argued.

"Well, you can't pet them either."

"You could, but it probably would be detrimental to his health."

"I think we should name him Skittles," she spoke confidently.

"Skittles, like the candy?"

"No, like look at how he swims. He's all leisurely, and then he makes a sudden dash. Then, leisure again."

"I'm not calling my fish Skittles, and there is no we."

"There is a we. We are talking. We are sitting in a car. We are kind of hungry and hope to find a drive-thru soon. Look at all those we's."

"There is no we," I said again more sternly, but the allure of her brain had completely dissipated now replaced only by frustration.

"Apparently, we are cranky," she added as she shifted in her seat, pulling herself closer to me.

"Look, you're welcome for saving you and all, but that does not make us a duo. I have a plan, and it is a solo adventure."

"Oh, I love adventures. Tell me more..."

"Do you have problems hearing or just listening?"

"What's that?" She asked with a smirk.

"Very funny," I had to stifle a smile to avoid validating her lame humor.

"If you really disliked my company, you would have dumped me out long ago. Tell me your story, rockstar."

"Rockstar?"

"Oh, come on; Comet, Wayfarers, leather jacket in the backseat, rocking consciousness. You're a zombie rockstar."

"I told you not to fangirl; I'm taken."

"Then where is this zombie bride."

My mind flickered to Sarah pursuing flowers as the soft sun of a Sunday afternoon lit up her blond hair. "That's where I'm headed. This is the story of a girl."

"And where is the girl?"

"Ojai," as I spoke, I pulled the pouch of salt from my pocket.

"So, you find the girl, add a little seasoning and live happily-evergreen-after?"

I shrugged. That was not my plan. The first part was correct, find the girl and use the salt, but ours was not a happily-ever anything. Once we see each other, we will rest. There is no existence, just peace at the end of my story. My mind flickered to the peaceful smile that filled Avi's face in his last moment, and I envied him.

My shrug did not dissuade her waiting eyes. "something like that," I offered.

"Dots not connected."

"If you are looking for storytime, I can drop you at the nearest library."

"Sorry, the last time I was in a library, I was decapitating the librarian with a decorative samurai sword."

"Note to self, circle back to the library story. Find the girl, douse her in salt, die; the way life intended."

"Die? But you will have your girl and your wits; why die?"

"Sweetheart, I hate to break it to you, but I'm already dead."

"You could have fooled me," she grumbled to herself.

I could actually feel the thoughts building in her head. I had never met such a loud thinker in my life or after-life.

"I'm in. By the time you find the girl, I'm sure you will see life better than death. I'm Millie, by the way."

"Sorry, this is a solo tour, Millie."

"Come on; you could use me. People don't take kindly to zombies gassing up at the local 7-11."

"Sorry, I think I'll be fine."

"But Skittles has grown so attached to me," she held up the fish dramatically.

"His name's not Skittles. It's Finn."

"Finn," she scrunched up her nose in distaste.

"Yeah, Finn," I said definitively.

"Okay, Finn," she conceded. "Millie, Finn, and... what's your name?"

"I didn't say."

"I know you didn't say; that's why I asked."

"Why do you need to know? I will drop you at the first drive-thru I find. No need to bother with names."

"Sorry, Finn is my sole mate. We can't be separated."

"Soul mate? You just met, and he is a fish."

"Sole mate, get it, s-o-l-e mate."

"Do you think bad jokes are going to make me keep you around?"

"Well, you just drove right past a McDonald's, so apparently, my razzle-dazzle is working. And I have a lot more fishy jokes."

"I should have left you to the zombie hoard," I sighed.

"Three musketeers!" She smiled.

"Seth," I resigned.

"Three musketeers, Seth, Millie, and Finn; an unstoppable trio destined to reunite true love and find the will to live."

"I'm not living," I reminded her again.

"Find the will to exist!"

She was insufferable, and I was stuck with her.