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Thursday, unexpectedly, there were no zombies at school. Nothing happened, as far as Addison knew, no Z-Alerts, no major anti-zombie events, no attacks. For some reason, every zombie student, and even the janitor, had just decided not to show up.
Addison tried to ask a few people what was going on, but even more people tried to ask her—after all, as the daughter of the Mayor and the head of the Z-Patrol, not to mention the human student with the most zombie friends, she was usually the most on the up-and-up when it came to the latest zombie news. Unfortunately, she didn't have any better ideas about the mysterious absence than anyone else. Even the teachers just shrugged and changed the subject.
As much as the disappearance of the zombies made Addison uneasy, the thing she really hated about it was all the students who weren't confused or put-off by the situation. Though, at this point, the majority of the student body at least tolerated the zombies, even if they weren't exactly fans, there were still a few students, especially upperclassmen like Bucky, who clung to the old viewpoint that zombies were dangerous and had no place in human schools.
All throughout the day, Addison overheard people saying things like "good riddance," and "finally things are back to the way they should be," and "I hope they never come back." She did her best to speak up in their defense, to call out those bigots who refused to understand and change with the times, but for every person she berated for their intolerance, she knew there were at least three more saying the same things without hearing a peep of dissent for it.
Even though most students accepted zombies, Addison was one of the few who would actually step up to bat for them.
"Attention students," the principal's spoke over the PA system during 3rd period, and the classroom fell quiet to hear the unexpected announcement. "Today is February second, also known as Z-Day, the anniversary of the power plant meltdown that caused the zombie outbreak and resulted in hundreds of human deaths and even more injuries. Please bow your heads as we take a school-wide moment of silence for those who lost their lives, limbs, and other various body parts during that tragic event."
Addison bowed her heads with the rest of the class, remembering her grandfather with his missing ear, but her eyes were wide with realization. Of course. It was Z-Day! No wonder all the zombies were gone from school. It was a minor holiday for humans, a day of remembrance that people not old enough to actually remember that day barely thought about, but for zombies, it was probably a huge celebration of their origin!
She would have to ask Zed how zombies celebrate the occasion when he came back to school. Maybe a 24-hour zombie mash? She wondered if it would be insensitive for her to ask to be included next year. It might be rude to try and participate in a zombie-only celebration, but she wanted to learn more about her boyfriend's culture and share in those celebrations with him.
The next day, at school, the zombies were back, as normal, and Addison easily found her boyfriend before classes started.
"Hey, Zed!"
His face lit up when he turned and saw her. "Hey, Addison, good morning!"
"Good morning to you, too," she replied. "You weren't at school yesterday. It was 'cause of Z-Day, right?"
"Yeah," he said. "I was kinda surprised the school wasn't closed that day."
"It's not really a major thing for humans," Addison explained with a shrug. "We had a moment of silence during third period, but that's about it. A lot of us even forgot it was Z-Day until the principal made the announcement."
"That's surprising. For zombies, it's pretty much the most important holiday on our calendar."
"Makes sense, since it's the origin of your people," Addison said. "So what did you do to celebrate?"
Zed's face abruptly tensed, eyebrows scrunching and smile becoming tight and forced. "Uh... well... I don't know if 'celebrate' is really the right word."
"What do you mean?" she asked, she face falling with the mood.
"Zombies age slower than humans, and the oldest born-zombies are only around twenty, so it wasn't our grandparents and great-grandparents who were affected, it was our immediate relatives and pretty much every adult in our lives," Zed began to explain, Addison took his hand in an attempt to comfort him. "They were there and they remember it, and it's not a nice memory. For almost a year after the melt-down, they rampaged unchecked until humans got organized enough to fight them off and the barrier was put up. Even after that, up until the Z-band was invented, they had no self-control, they just shuffled around aimlessly, attacking and eating any living thing that strayed into their closed territory. It's not exactly a time we like to look back on."
"But you still cele—er... observe Z-Day as a major holiday every year?" Addison shook her head, confused. "Wouldn't it make more sense to try and forget it and move on?"
The bell rang, reminding them to head to first period, and Zed pulled his hand roughly out of hers.
"I'll tell you more about it at lunch," he said dismissively. "I gotta head to class and make sure I get the homework I missed yesterday."
"Right," she agreed, frowning, but allowing her boyfriend to pass her by and walk down the hall.
When lunch came around, Zed was acting totally normal, joking with Bonzo as they made their way through the lunch line. Addison sat across from him at their usual table, with Eliza beside her, and Bonzo next to Zed. She waited until their laughter died down and there was a lull to bring up that morning.
"So, Zed," she said brightly. "You said you were gonna tell me more about what Z-Day is like for zombies. I'm really curious."
Zed's shoulders tensed.
"Zege guzojhun Addisonka?" Bonzo blurted out, staring wide-eyed at Zed.
Addison didn't know that much zombie-tongue, but she definitely picked out her name and could more-or-less work out what he must have asked based on his tone and body language.
"Is... that bad?" she asked. "Was I not supposed to know anything? I just want to learn more about you all and your culture, since you're my friends."
Eliza sighed. "It's not... bad, necessarily," she said. "Just kind of surprising. Zed always tries to show you only the good sides of him, and zombies in general, and Z-Day is... not that. Actually it's kind of our worst side."
"This morning, she brought up how we were all gone yesterday and asked what we did to celebrate," Zed explained.
Eliza and Bonzo both visibly cringed.
"Celebrate is not how I'd describe what we do on Z-Day," she said.
"That's basically what Zed told me too," Addison said. "He started to tell me about how there are more zombies that actually remember that day than humans and how they don't like to think about it. Then we got cut off by the warning bell."
"Didn't get very far, did he?" Eliza said.
"I was kinda hoping you'd forget by lunch time," Zed admitted. "But if you really wanna know...."
"I do," Addison said. "I love you, and I want to know more about you and your people, even if it's not perfect and pretty. Everyone has things in their past they're not proud of. It won't make me think less of you, I promise."
"Thanks, Addison," he said, a hesitant smile lifting his lips. "I don't even know where to start though."
"Well she asked about our traditions, right?" Eliza said. "There are three main traditions on Z-Day: the lock-down, the fast, and the story-telling."
"Right, so the lock-down started because after the barrier went up, some humans would group up and cross the barrier together on the anniversary, and they would bring weapons to hunt down zombies, and kerosene and matches to burn us and our homes. We call them torch-mobs, and they're a big part of the reason so many zombies are afraid of fire. They haven't been as common in recent years, but they still happen. Bonzo's childhood home was destroyed by a torch mob."
"That's terrible!" Addison said.
"They're the reason zombies stay inside from sunset the day before until sunrise the day after," Zed said. "The lock-down is the most important Z-Day tradition. Torch mobs are also the reason most zombies live in brick houses now. Partly to avoid them, and partly because almost all the wooden houses in Zombietown have already burned down."
"Gurzena go nenz okul zevurg," Bonzo said.
"Right," Zed agreed, nodding at him, then turned to Addison. "Torch mobs have been known to come to Zombietown outside of Z-Day, too, that's just the one day they were pretty much guaranteed for a long time, though thankfully not anymore."
"That's..." Addison could feel the sympathetic tears stinging at her eyes. Zed's tone was remarkably casual, considering what he was saying. "How could they do that?"
"Revenge, anger," Eliza said, shrugging. "There were no Z-bands back then. Zombies weren't as docile as we are now." She spat the word 'docile', and Addison knew innately that the word hadn't been chosen arbitrarily, but that Eliza had heard it used this way before, like Zombie's were just animals that needed to be controlled and domesticated, and not people who were suffering from a condition that stole their whole lives from them.
Addison sniffed. "What about the other traditions?" she asked, steeling herself.
"You sure you wanna know?" Zed gently offered her an out. "It's okay if you don't. We won't think you don't care about us or anything like that."
"I'm sure," she said firmly.
"Alright, well... the second tradition is the fast," he continued, watching her closely, like he was worried she might suddenly change her mind. "Starting the night before and ending sunrise after, we fast as penance for the first zombies' appetites."
"But that's not your fault!"
"My dad worked at the power plant back then," Zed said. "He was at ground zero when the meltdown happened. He could have been the one who bit your grandfather's ear off and he wouldn't even remember because of how the accident affected him. I may never have eaten a human, but the zombies who were affected by the melt down and went crazy aren't that far removed from me, or any of us. So on the anniversary we fast, to remind us to control our hunger."
Addison clenched her jaw and frowned severely, but didn't argue again.
"The last tradition is story-telling," he continued. "On Z-Day, the older zombies swap stories with each other, and tell us born-zombies what they remember from back then—stories they never bring up or even think about the rest of the year get told on Z-Day."
"A lot of them don't remember things very clearly, most don't remember what their lives were like before the melt-down at all," Eliza said. "But what they do remember is usually pretty gruesome."
"I only ever see my dad cry when he tells us stories on Z-Day," Zed added. "But even after he has to take a break because remembering was too much, he always tells me and Zoey that it's important to pass these stories along. We have to remember our roots, and learn our history, so we can make sure we never go back to how things were, and never take what we have now for granted."
"Zan zebegan Jhoze gunnu ga," Bonzo said.
The other two zombies just nodded solemnly, neither bothering to translate for Addison, but she kind of understood. Zan, of course, meant zombie. Gunnu was 'again' or 'repeat'—she knew that one because she often had to use it when zombies spoke too quickly in their own tongue. It was probably something like the zombie tongue equivalent of "those who don't learn from history are doomed to repeat it."