Dianne had always maintained that the homers held the key to understanding zombie behaviour. Homers, those most unique of zombies that still seemed to retain some semblance of their past lives. Homers like Sweeny Todd, the zombie that frequented the abandoned barbershop, Little Orphan Annie who latched onto any mother figure and walked with them to the end of the block, or Hendrix, the adolescent male zombie with the torn heavy metal tee shirt who hung around the ruined guitar store. But of all the homers that Dianne had studied over the past few months, Romeo was the most fascinating.

“This is a stupid idea” repeated Mohindar Choudry for the umpteenth time, his sing-song Bombay accent and chartered account spectacles belying his ruthless efficiency as a zombie hunter. For weeks, Choudry and his three man squad had accompanied Dianne to the observation bunker with strict orders from the committee to fire only in self defence. “My squad could clear this quarter of Zees within a few hours.” He grumbled.

Ignoring Choudry, Dianne adjusted her telescope and jotted occasional notes onto her writing pad. It had been a hard enough task to convince the committee, but someone like Choudry would never see her viewpoint. Her hypothesis was simple, if we can prove the Zees have latent traces of memory we can develop a model of how to influence their behaviour. Choudry’s equally simple counter argument was that a bullet in the head would remove any memory traces, latent or otherwise.

The committee, concerned over diminishing resources and manpower, narrowly voted in favour of Dianne’s proposal and the Romeo experiment was born.

Romeo was a homer who arrived at the small chapel each morning, still dressed in his wedding tuxedo and waiting forlornly for his bride. For an hour or more, Romeo would stand by the church doors before sauntering off into the city only to repeat the process the next day. Of all the homers Dianne had observed, Romeo was the most absolute in his behaviour.

“Here comes the lover-boy” Said Choudry, lowering his binoculars. “Now all we need is the bride.”

“She’ll be late, bride’s prerogative.” Said Dianne.

Dianne adjusted the veil and picked up the bouquet of flowers. She had originally wanted to wear a bridal gown, but Choudry had overruled her, pointing out that she could not run in a full length dress. So she had dressed in white as best she could; dirty white jeans and an oversized man’s business shirt along with the veil and flowers was maybe just enough to create the illusion of a bride in the splintered fragments of Romeo’s memory.

“Don’t do it Dianne.” Said Choudry suddenly. Despite their differences, Dianne noted genuine concern in his voice.

Dianne squeezed his arm and smiled. “I’ve got to find out Mohindar. Besides, I’ve got the world’s best anti-Zee squad backing me up.”

Then Choudry was back to business. Dianne remained under his strict command throughout the experiment and was to keep her earpiece and communications mike on at all times, he told her. The only objective was to gauge if Romeo’s memory could override his instinct to attack, and nothing else. On Choudry’s order, Dianne was to sprint back to the bunker regardless of circumstance and without question. If Romeo displayed any aggressive behaviour, the squad would take him out with well placed head shots. Dianne nodded her assent without really listening, they had been through this a hundred times before. Finally, unexpectedly, Choudry gave her a brief, embarrassed hug and told her to come back safely.

***

“Okay, that’s close enough.” Choudry’s voice crackled over the earpiece. “and move a little to the left, you’re blocking the flanker’s line of fire.”

“He hasn’t seen me yet.” Whispered Dianne into the mike, and despite Choudry’s orders continued her steady pace towards Romeo. She stopped suddenly, Romeo’s head had turned to face her.

“It’s me.” She said. “I’m here”. Could Romeo even hear her, let alone understand the words? She didn’t know, but what she did know is that Romeo had not begun a typical lumbering attack in pursuit of her live flesh, he just stood there with his head at a quizzical angle.

“Fall back now, that’s an order!”

“But it’s safe.” Responded Dianne resuming her steady pace with the bouquet held out in front of her. “Look for yourself, Romeo’s seen me, he’s not hostile.”

She was close now, only yards away and still no aggression from Romeo. Both Choudry’s static laden voice in the earpiece and Dianne’s better judgement told her the experiment was complete, but the need to see just how much memory Romeo retained compelled her forwards.

Choudry’s order to take aim snapped her out of her trance-like state and she ran.

She ran towards Romeo shouting into her mike for the squad to hold their fire. Her sudden movement must have disrupted the marksmen, for the volley of rifle shots failed to hit their target.

At first Dianne felt that she must have slipped, but the numbness in her legs and the growing red stain across her white shirt indicated otherwise. She had fallen in the church alcove and Romeo stood above her, out of the snipers’ line of sight. If she had the strength Dianne would have laughed at the irony, shot by friendly fire and face to face with a Zee who would not attack.

The earpiece had fallen out of Dianne’s ear, and Choudry’s voice sounded echoey and distant. “Hold in there Dianne, we’re coming to get you.”

Even as her body went into blood-loss shock, Dianne still worked towards her conclusions. Romeo had seemingly formed an active connection between Dianne and his long dead bride, but how much was cognisance and how much was instinct? There was only one way to find out, an experiment that was not sanctioned by the committee, an experiment that Dianne would do only for her own knowledge, an experiment for which she could never report her findings.

Feeling her vital body functions slow down, Dianne held up her arm to Romeo. “I need to know what you know. I have to see what I can remember afterwards. Make me like you.”

Romeo groaned, but still made no move towards her. Was it just dumb lack of comprehension or something deeper that prevented Romeo from biting her? Could it possibly be that Romeo still had enough self-awareness to choose not to pass on the insidious virus?

Limp and lifeless, Dianne’s arm fell to the stone floor. With a low gurgling that could have been grief, or could have just been the air passing through his constricted trachea, Romeo stepped out of the church alcove and into Choudry’s line of fire.