You know, one of the terms that has always confused me is "Freedom Fighter". Surely, if you are able to fight for something, you already have freedom. And wouldn't fighting for freedom mean you constrict yourself quite severely? Taking away the freedom you have? Well, at the very least it is of course relevant to know what 'freedom' people are fighting for, if any. I suppose people would fight for 'less oppression' but it doesn't quite have the same ring now, does it?
Regardless, the people that took me and my zombie friend (or at least companion) classified themselves in the former category. To call their outlook on life bleak would be an insult to the already glorious attempt at the definition by the landscape. They found great pleasure in questioning Rob though, trying to figure out what in bleak's name they were doing in the facility and how he got his faculties back.
Speaking of faculties, his were wavering. Like the rest of his body, his mind appeared to slowly rot away. Whatever had granted his brain the capability to operate once more in the somewhat sunnier regions of intelligence, it was failing. No one has ever mentioned the great regenerative capabilities of zombies because, quite frankly, there were none. Resilience, sure, resistance definitely! But they rot, and continue rotting until they would finally fall apart. Perhaps they'd be extinct in a couple of years, perhaps decennia.
The people who recaptured us did not have that kind of patience. They preferred to get rid of the scientists(at least the ones making zombies), the military(helping those scientists) and the zombies as quickly as possible. The only reason we were still alive was their interest in the research into the limitations of zombies and, now that they'd met a smart zombie, the likelihood of meeting one again.
Rob did his best. With the little mind he had left, he very much realized the lethality (interesting term for a zombie) of regressing too far. However, choice did not seem to come into it. We either had to escape now or suffer the consequences.
And I really didn't want to end up on some boring living nose. Say what you want about zombies, but they do get around.