Age of Z: A Tale of Survival

by T. S. Frost

  He had an odd habit of appearing to zone out for a moment, staring blankly ahead, when he was questioned about world events, before abruptly reciting a stream of succinct, analyzed information perfectly relevant to the topic. It was almost like the way computers would pause for a moment as they opened up files, and seeing a person do it was a little creepy at first, but she eventually got used to it.

  LS apparently had a lot of files in his head. Alexa soon realized that he could accurately summarize world history all the way up to a month before Z-day, correctly analyzing all political, social, economical, religious, and military aspects like he was reading straight out of a textbook

  Even stranger was that sometimes, after reciting a particular batch of history–especially after the more social or cultural moments, like race riots, country divisions, or particularly cruel acts done in the name of a god or idealized concept–he would pause and question why it had even happened, as though he didn't understand the thoughts behind what he'd just recited.

  He had a surprisingly firm understanding of military strategy, modern military weaponry, vehicles, and their workings, all locked away in his head. And he spoke at least five active languages fluently, as well as comprehending a few dead ones.

  It was a baffling amount of information, and Alexa was at first inclined to think that Gentech had wanted their clone to be super-intelligent as well. Except the more she questioned him the more she started to realize there was something else at work with all the information they'd dumped into his head, and she didn't think it was intended to be for LS's benefit.

  For starters he didn't seem entirely capable of utilizing much of the information in his mind; he rarely bothered with combat strategy when they fought zombies, nor had he learned to interpret half of the textbooks scrawled in his head.

  It was more like it was there for show, less for him to access it. To Alexa that meant one thing: he wasn't the one intended to make any of the decisions based around the knowledge given to him, and was only supposed to know enough to react, if necessary.

  More frightening to Alexa was the specific nature of LS's knowledge, because unless it directly related to military history or languages or other related topics, he had only a middle school level understanding of things like mathematics, sciences, literature, and the like.

  One could argue that everything LS had been educated with would aid with 'public relations'. But Alexa thought it also sounded suspiciously like preparing a particularly strong and dangerous person for military combat... or maybe they'd just skip the pretense and go straight to turning him into a tool for some seriously dangerous blitzkriegs.

  It was a scary thought, and Alexa had to remind herself that LS wasn't going to have to do anything like that anymore. He was allowed to make his own choices, and he wasn't being experimented on or abandoned by Gentech anymore. Everything would be okay. Totally okay.

  All the same, she couldn't help but feel protective of the clone, determined to keep him away from those crazy scientists if they ever showed their faces again. And she kept her suspicions to herself–LS had been through enough already without having to wonder about the what if's of his purpose, especially since it still seemed to concern him so much.

  There was more to LS too, although they were subtle things. He wasn't much of a talker, and unless Alexa directly asked him something he was usually pretty quiet. But it wasn't in a bad way–Alexa found he was an exceptional listener, always paying attention even when he didn't appear to be, and he didn't seem to mind her often inane chatter.

  It was sort of nice, because back before Z-day Alexa was often lectured with anything from amusement to exasperation to irritation about how she was a chatterbox that talked too fast and too often for her own good. But LS didn't seem to mind and didn't interrupt her, which made them pretty good company for each other.

  And Alexa chattered a lot, because she couldn't help it; after being alone for three years, for the most part, it was nice to have someone besides herself to talk to. When she wasn't giving lectures or lessons on surviving the apocalypse she usually rambled on about mundane things, whatever was on her mind at the time.

  Sometimes they were weird stories ever since Z-day–the strange things she'd seen, the dumb things she'd seen people do, and the rare moments of humor that could be found. More often they were things that she remembered from before the outbreak: her favorite movies, bands, video games, foods and shows, her old science projects and experiments, the places she'd gone on vacation.

  It was during one of her rambling sessions that she discovered another subtle trait LS possessed: he could be oddly observant when he wanted to be. Alexa had been explaining enthusiastically about how her mother made the best lasagna, how she made it perfect like no one else could and the taste was to die for, when LS interrupted with, “You talk about them a lot.”

  “Lasagna?”

  “Your family,” the clone clarified. “You mention them a lot, in your stories.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” Alexa looked away, a little downcast and a little embarrassed; she hadn't meant to go overboard.

  LS growled in frustration and after a moment managed to mutter, “No, I... sorry, I didn't mean it like that.” He looked a little put out; Alexa had discovered he was pretty terrible at apologizing, too.

  Then his usual frown softened a little, his shoulders shifted uncomfortably, and he added, “It's just, you really miss them, don't you?”

  “I...” Alexa hesitated for a moment, but there was no point lying about it. She did miss them terribly, and there wasn't a day that went by that she didn't wonder if they were still alive or worry that they might be hurt or scared or worried about her and she couldn't do anything to stop it.

  “Yes,” was all Alexa said out loud, and still she couldn't quite hide the raw fear and worry and pain she felt inside. But LS's expression was neutral, and he didn't react with scorn or laugh at how pathetic she sounded.

  So Alexa added, slowly, tentatively, “I haven't seen them since the outbreak,” and sketched out a rough outline of her own personal history, how she'd been separated from her parents and aunt and grandpa on a school trip, how Z-day had come, how the army was overrun and most likely her grandpa with them, and how she'd never been able to find any of them again.

  How she'd been searching ever since for them–how at the beginning finding them had been the only thing getting her to get up some mornings, to keep stumbling forward, keep surviving one more day. How it had been terrifying, and how much she still worried, for them more than for herself. How she didn't even know if they were still breathing, or if they'd turned, or if they were just gone, and how she wanted so badly to know and was also terrified of finding out.

  Admitting those things made her the most vulnerable she'd been with anybody since the outbreak, other than maybe her friend at the refuge they were heading to. And she felt bad that she was heaping all of this on LS, who she was supposed to be the unafraid, knowledgeable big sister for. But LS proved to be an utterly non-judging listener, and when Alexa finally talked herself into silence he said slowly, “So, that's your purpose, then.”

  “Huh?”

  “Your place in this world. The reason you keep going. To find your family. Family can be a purpose.” He seemed honestly intrigued and enlightened by the observation.

  “Uh. Yeah, I guess.” Alexa shook her head, winced, and added, “Sorry. I didn't mean to, y'know, dump all that on you. You shouldn't have to deal with all my baggage on top of yours.”

  He didn't appear impressed by that, and snorted. “But you can take mine and yours? You have a goal, but you're wasting time to help me find answers.”

  “I'm not wasting my time!” Alexa protested. “I really do want to help you. I mean, we are friends.”

  “So then it's fine for me to listen to your problems, too,” LS countered with surprising ease.

  He actually had her there.

  “I, uh, hope you find them,” LS added more solemnly. He sounded uncom
fortable again and shifted the same way as before, and he was carefully not looking in Alexa's direction when he spoke.

  Awkwardness practically rolled off him in waves; clearly emotional anythings were not something he was comfortable with. “I don't... exactly know what it's like, to have family. But they obviously mean a lot. And I'd be angry if anything happened to people that were important to me.”

  That was the end of their only real major heart-to-heart. She did, however, discover that family and emotions weren't the only things he had a hard time comprehending. His experiences of the world were rather limited which meant his frame of reference for many of the things Alexa rambled about ranged from 'slim' to 'nonexistent'.

  It was sort of depressing, in Alexa's opinion. Sure, her own childhood had been completely ruined at the age of twelve by a rampaging horde of zombies sweeping the nation, but at least she'd had twelve years of junk food, video games and beach visits.

  LS had no memories at all outside of artificially implanted ones, and had seen absolutely nothing good in the world since Alexa had re-introduced him to it. Alexa was determined to change that, and prove that not everything in the new age was terrible.

  Of course, it wasn't easy, since the fact of the matter was most things in the world were pretty terrible. It was hard enough to be a good, fun big sister when most of the time you were instructing your sibling how to feed himself or properly smash in slightly decomposed heads.

  Being a surrogate sibling was sort of new to her anyway, making it even tougher, since she'd never had a younger brother or sister before. But she was determined all the same to give LS at least a few good memories that he could hold on to when times got bleak, to remind him that even in these times not everything was bad.

  She wished she could give LS some classic kid experiences: take him out for ice cream, visit an amusement park, go swimming at the beach, have a movie marathon, check out a concert, or play video games.

  These were the things he always seemed puzzled over or unable to grasp entirely, when Alexa rambled on about them during the quieter and safer moments of their journey. Sadly these things were simply impossible right now, with the state of the world. But Alexa wasn't known for giving up, and eventually engineered several other opportunities to teach him about the good side of life.

  She started simple. During one of their necessary scavenging expeditions, after skirting around Baltimore, she came across a mostly intact deck of playing cards. It was missing a few cards from the hearts suit, but miraculously both the jokers were still there, which mostly made up for it.

  Alexa taught LS poker, blackjack, go fish, and half a dozen other games, taunting and ribbing her surrogate sibling in friendly fashion to get a rise out of him and engage his competitive streak.

  At first he scowled and was unresponsive, but gradually he began to get the hang of both of the strategies and the taunting, and he had one of the best poker-faces Alexa had ever seen on anyone, ever.

  They started betting on basic things to up the ante, then: who got stuck on which watch shift, or who got the last piece of rabbit meat or scoop of canned rations. During the day, if LS reported no dangerous sounds in the area, Alexa would idly shuffle the deck in her hands as they walked, and practice her magic tricks.

  But Alexa found better opportunities as they traveled, starting with a few days after they crossed over the Pennsylvania state line. On their travels they found an abandoned high school that had, of all things, a mostly-intact volleyball court.

  The nets were a little rotted, but not so badly that they were completely useless, and there was still an intact sports shed off to one side with a decent collection of mostly-inflated balls and a semi-working pump.

  Alexa made a snap decision, and called for a halt. It was probably not the best decision, admittedly, and now her instincts screamed that she should not be wasting valuable time and energy on this, and that there could be zoms anywhere. But she could afford to be a little more relaxed, now that she was traveling with someone with enhanced senses.

  LS's hearing could give them ample warning about approaching zombies long before they actually got near there, and the field was open enough they'd have advanced visual warning, too. If this didn't pan out they could still be long gone before danger arrived.

  So she called for LS to set his pack down in the court and pick a side. The clone did so, perplexed, and Alexa gave him a brief rundown of the rules (which she couldn't really remember anymore, so it mostly consisted of 'don't let the ball hit the ground or the other guy gets a point') and volleyed it over the net.

  LS hit it back with so much force it flew over the fence and the field and bounced out of sight. Alexa counted it as a point for herself, laughed, and retrieved a second ball from the shed. The second time he was able to rein himself in for the first return volley, but couldn't match Alexa's more natural agility and speed when attempting to subdue his own strength, and missed the ball.

  The third time Alexa almost gleefully spiked it at the clone's feet, and laughed at the sullen expression on his face. “C'mon man, I thought you were supposed to be superior! If you can't keep up with little old me, then I think you need more practice!”

  LS gave her an angry look, clearly frustrated by his losses, but the fury retreated slightly when he spotted Alexa's grin and realized she was only teasing. His angry look shifted to one of determination instead, and he seemed to focus more carefully on the game after that.

  Alexa hadn't realized this would turn into an exercise for the clone to learn how to control his abilities better. But she was surprised to find that after a half hour of play, LS was already learning to shift between restraining his strength for volleys, and utilizing it for getting around the court quick enough to keep up with Alexa's return shots.

  By the time an hour had passed, and LS reported the first telltale signs of hunting moans in the distance, the clone was actually grinning as he played, and the look didn't disappear even as they ran for their lives shortly after.

  Somewhere past Philadelphia Alexa managed to scrounge up a similar opportunity, in an old arcade that had probably seen better days even before the outbreak. She wasn't sure if it was nostalgia or inherent suicidal tendencies that sent her in there after LS reported hearing a few zombies, but they ended up beating in more than a few dead heads when they should have been running.

  When the wild adrenaline rush had finally worn off and the clone reported no further zombie sounds, Alexa took the opportunity to explore. Without any electricity the arcade was dark and cold, and it had absolutely nothing of value for scavenging, which an unimpressed LS was quick to point out–Alexa had noticed him developing a tendency towards bluntness lately.

  “It was much more impressive back in the day, I'm sure,” Alexa told him. “All this stuff would've been lit up and making noises and the games look like they were pretty cool.” She gestured at the details painted on the sides of a few machines with a fond look, and then grinned at what she spotted in a dark corner. “Oh, sweet! LS, help me drag this thing outside, we'll need light to play it...”

  'It' turned out to be an old air hockey table, which they relocated fairly easily to the more sunny outdoors. One of it's legs was broken and had to be wedged up with a few blocks of concrete, and it took Alexa a while to find an intact puck and a couple of mallets. Once she did and explained how to play, LS gave her a rather skeptical look, and asked flatly, “What exactly is the point to this thing?”

  “To have fun!” Alexa answered brightly. “It's not about training or surviving or whatever. It's just fun!” Her grin widened, and she added, “ Of course, I'm pretty awesome at this game, so I'll understand if you're scared you can't beat me.”

  LS's eyes narrowed, but by now he had gotten used to Alexa's taunting, and his own determined grin slipped on to his face a lot faster than it used to. “That sounds like a challenge.”

  “A challenge for you, maybe, this is a piece of cake for me!”

  “We'll see ho
w easy it is!” And they were on.

  It wasn't perfect, of course. The table couldn't be plugged in, meaning there was no actual air to the air hockey, so the puck didn't slide as well as it should have, especially when the table was still a bit lopsided. And occasionally it would get stuck in the goal slots, prompting LS to tilt the entire table up and shake it until it fell out again.

  But mostly it was fun, and the friendly ribbing and genuine laughter was just as enjoyable as the game itself. They played three rounds in an hour and a half, and Alexa was a little surprised to discover she won two out of three of them, considering who she was up against. But LS took his losses surprisingly well, and appeared to genuinely enjoy the game for the game itself, and not the victory.

  They had been forced to move on as it got dark, to hunt out a shelter for the night, but LS had clearly enjoyed the experience and that was all that mattered to Alexa.

  But most notable to Alexa was right after they crossed the state line into Connecticut. They just spent a harrowing week and a half skirting New York City, which was dangerously infested and not even worth attempting to go near, and both she and LS were feeling a little strained.