Age of Z: A Tale of Survival

by T. S. Frost

  So he prepared everything on his own, and was careful not to tell anybody else in the colony where he was really going. When it was finally time to leave and Casey had to come up with some excuse for his extended absence, he told Alexa that he'd offered to go on a final hunting trip for the colony to collect food for winter.

  Alexa looked distinctly put out about her friend being gone for potential weeks, but she didn't seem to suspect any ulterior motives. Casey repeated the same story to the medical staff as he pointedly paid them off in trade to make sure Alexa was well cared for in his absence and not harassed or threatened by other citizens or officials when he wasn't there to protect his family.

  The nurses had cheerfully agreed and did not seem terribly upset with the task–most of them had come to enjoy Alexa's presence.

  With everything arranged and his own supplies collected, Casey decided he'd wasted enough time. He made sure he got a decent night's sleep, and took off bright and early at dawn the next morning, in the last week of September.

  The Saint Francois Mountain Range was approximately a hundred miles southwest of the Base, based on the maps Blake had supplied them with ages ago. Casey planned his route accordingly, and although he knew he could make it easily in the span of just a few days, he was careful to take it a little easier this time.

  He still traveled far faster than any human could, but he paced himself and allowed himself to rest more often than he had when he'd force-marched himself for Alexa's sake. He was also careful to locate potential shelters at reasonable stopping points.

  He prepared them for protection against zombies and memorized very carefully where each one was, leaving himself clues and reminders and marking them on the maps for later. He'd definitely have to come back this way to get back to the Base, after all, and it would be useful to know ahead of time where his safe zones were.

  Plus, if he came through again with Alexa later on, it would be good to know where his friend could rest. Casey was all too aware now just how fragile human life could be, when conditions turned poor, and he wasn't risking those circumstances again if he could help it.

  Even at a slower pace, Casey was still able to make it to the mountain range in just over a week. But that was where things became trickier, and Casey began to realize that this would be no easy task. Mountains, it turned out, were a lot bigger in person than they looked on maps, and they were tall, too–there was practically no limit to where people could hide.

  It's just a scouting mission, Casey told himself repeatedly, and after a few days he gave up on trying to search out every cave. It was simply impossible to do, and he only had so much time.

  It was October now, and Casey had only collected enough credit to pay for Alexa's care and protection through the end of November–if he spent all his time searching every nook and cranny he'd be here all winter and Alexa could be in trouble. She'd be healed by then, but there was still no need for her to push herself after being so sick.

  A week later he gave up even more, and resigned himself to broad sweeps and searches, often risking jumping into a tree and potentially being spotted in favor of getting a better lay of the land. A week after that Casey began to realize how daunting the task really was, when the only humanoids he'd encountered had been the walking dead, and there was still no hint of the living.

  He was sure the only reason he hadn't gotten lost in the mountains was due to his orientating from the trees–without that he was sure he'd have long since lost his way and been destined to die of starvation or zom attack. Or maybe the cold–he thought it was probably quite cold, the way his breath misted in the mornings and some afternoons.

  He was glad he kept his decision to go hunting for Alexa's family to himself, because at this rate he was going to have nothing to show for it, and Alexa would definitely be disappointed then.

  In the end, well into his third week of October, it was sheer dumb luck that let him catch any sort of lead at all. There had been a light dusting of snow overnight, and Casey had woken from his perch in the fork of a large tree to find himself covered in white powder, much to his bewilderment.

  His breath was even more visible than usual, and the sky looked almost blindingly clear, without a hint of a cloud in sight, which made the entire skyline look particularly sharp and empty. That was the only reason Casey caught it at all: the faint wisp of smoke, trailing from behind the trees many miles distant. That could mean a campfire–and that would mean people.

  Re-energized, Casey barely spared time to wolf down a few bites of food before making his way for the smoke. It vanished within a few hours, but Casey had marked the location carefully in his mind and made for it unerringly.

  The closer he came the more signs he saw of potential human habitation: footprints, precise and non-dragging, areas where trees had clearly been marked or carefully cut back, and well-hidden signs of platforms above or strung wires and traps to act as early warning signals. There were definitely people here. The question was, were they friendly?

  It was close to mid-afternoon when he finally came across them. A small band of people were trying to fend off a pack of zombies that had gotten past the tripwires and alarms. There were only about ten of them, but the people were having trouble with them all the same, and looked frantic and desperate.

  Casey didn't even think about it before leaping into the fray, almost casually beating them to death with a tree limb he'd broke off a tree moments before. After taking out more than thirty dead heads in the dark when Alexa was in danger, beating ten of the things in broad daylight was almost laughably easy.

  When he confirmed all the zoms in the area were dead, he turned to the people and said without any preamble, “Hey. I'm looking for somebody. Do you guys have a camp around here?”

  The group looked stunned, and one woman stammered, “W-w-what are you?”

  That, Casey decided with irritation, is really starting to get old.

  His eye twitched, and they flinched, but he managed to curb his temper, and snapped, “A person. So. Settlement?”

  They looked startled at the request, and it took them several moments to get over their shock at the unexpected save before they could even begin to react. Casey tried to be as patient as he could with them–they were in the middle of the mountains and there was no reason for them to be used to an outsider saving them at all–but even so it ground on his nerves to have them wasting his precious time trying to recover their wits.

  Once they got back into the groove they were unexpectedly efficient, though, and slipped back into their paces with only a few uneasy or confused looks in Casey's direction. The group had clearly been a hunting party, since two of the four stooped to collect a dead deer that had been abandoned for the fight before trekking off with purpose in an eastern direction.

  The woman, apparently elected their spokesman, told Casey that normally they wouldn't show a stranger the location of their settlement. “But since you did save us, I suppose we can take you there.”

  The settlement was perhaps a forty minute walk from the battle site and the paths to it were well traveled but cleverly hidden–Casey wasn't sure he would have found the place at all with his scattered searching methods.

  It was fairly impressive in its own right, too, once he saw it: a whole series of caves that had been carved in and expanded upon to make a semi-underground village, with a cavern entrance that could only be reached by a careful climb that would be easy for the living to manage, but impossible for zombies. Outlying areas had been carefully cultivated for gardens and there was a fresh stream nearby for a clean water source.

  From what Casey gathered, there were roughly fifty people living there, mostly original family units with a smattering of newly formed families or unattached loners. It was mostly adults, but there were a few kids and teenagers, and Casey was immediately struck by the watchful sense of community–he suspected everyone here was familiar with everyone else and would take care to look out for each others' families

&
nbsp; It was no New Avalon or even the Base–it reminded Casey of a campsite more than anything else and lacked any hints of technology or communications with the outside world–but there was still a sense of humanity here that made it feel safe, almost comfortable. These people trusted each other. It was rare these days, from everything Casey had seen and experienced. Now they were trusting him with their fragile little home as well. He wouldn't make them regret it.

  The people on-site at the nameless settlement regarded Casey with suspicion, probably born out of a desire to protect their fellow settlers. The hunting party's spokeswoman hastily put in a good word for him, though, explaining how he'd saved them from a large zom pack. He remained silent as the camp's unofficial leader was found and brought forward, but when he was introduced for the third time as being “Something” he finally had to step in.

  “My name's Casey,” he snapped. “I'm not a thing.”

  “But you ripped a giant branch off a tree and beat the zoms to death with it.” the spokeswoman said incredulously. “ Humans don't do that! You have to be–”

  “I'm. A. Person,” he repeated, with a low hiss. “My name is Casey.” They looked a strange collection of baffled, hurt, and disappointed. Finally he sighed and said with barely contained impatience, “Look, can we just forget about that and move on already? I'm looking for these people, is there anybody like that living here?” And he brandished the photographs of Alexa's family at the leader and the spokeswoman.

  The settlers regarded the photographs carefully, leaning forward to study the faces intently. After a moment the leader said, “I'm sorry. There's nobody like that here.”

  Casey cursed under his breath; and he was sure he'd finally been on to something here, too! “Are there any other settlements in these mountains?” he asked instead. “It's really important that I find these people if I can.”

  The leader and the spokeswoman exchanged hesitant, uneasy looks, and Casey added, “I'm not interested in hurting anybody or exposing where anybody is. I just want to help my friend find her family again. That's all.”

  The leader regarded him carefully for a moment, but finally said slowly, “There are a few other settlements in this mountain range. Three, in fact. Most of them are only two to three days walking from here if you're diligent and careful. We have... alliances, of a sort... with them. If you promise not to disclose the locations of any of them or harm or steal from them in any way, I can provide you with the locations...”

  “I have all the things I need,” Casey said flatly. “And I won't share your secrets if you don't share mine.” He gave him a pointed look. The man nodded after a moment; it wasn't hard to figure out what 'secret' of Casey's was in question.

  Outwardly Casey kept his composure around these strangers, but inwardly he was elated. More settlements, and now he had clear directions to them–Blake had definitely been on to something with this, at least, and if he'd been right so far there had to be a good chance Alexa's family was somewhere around here, right?

  He wanted to take off right away for the next settlement, but it was getting darker far earlier than it used to in the summer, and it would be suicide to go traveling through an unknown forest and mountains in the darkness. The settlers offered him a safe place to sleep for the night and a few food supplies as thanks for his assistance with the zom attack, and he accepted the offer without argument.

  In the morning he took off at first light with only the shortest of goodbyes to their leader, and continued his search with a more determined air than before.

  He spent the next four days making his way around to the other settlements that the first leader had given him the coordinates for. He could cover the distance much faster than regular humans, but his lack of familiarity with the area slowed him down considerably, as did the snowfall that hit on Halloween. It made travel more frustrating than Casey had anticipated, even with his abilities.

  His frustration increased when, for all his efforts, the visits to the settlements were basically pointless. He knew they were friendly based on his own gathered intel, but finding them was hard enough–all of them were well hidden and fairly well defended, and their inhabitants tended to be wary of strangers.

  One set of guards had even tried to shoot him, causing an instinctive dodge at inhuman speed, prompting another stunned cry of “What are you?” and another growl of irritation from Casey

  In every case it took a great deal of time for him to prove his trustworthiness and intentions not to cause harm, and always for nothing, because none of the people he was looking for were at the settlements in question. Casey usually resupplied in exchange for work, kept to himself, and left them quickly, anxious to get on to the next location.

  There was only one settlement left to try, now, and if it was a bust Casey grudgingly admitted he'd have to turn back for now. It was the second week of November by this point, he was fairly sure, and with the snow slowing him down he wanted to give himself enough time to get back to the Base before Alexa really started to worry. His friend was probably well aware by this point that Casey wasn't on a 'hunting trip', and was likely angry.

  Casey just really, really hoped he'd have something to show for his efforts to keep his friend's concerns at bay.

  He reached the rough location of the last settlement in the early afternoon, and was almost immediately aware of shouting close by, and lower still a moaning sound. For a moment Casey was confused.

  By this point it was far too cold for zoms to be active, after a few snowfalls that had stayed on the ground, and there hadn't been a thaw yet–there should be no dead head attacks. Then he realized the moaning had changed to pained whimpering, and realized it was distinctly human noise.

  He grimaced slightly and altered his direction, resigning himself to another day of being mistaken for a thing. He didn't regret helping people in the slightest, when he could, but he had to admit he was getting real tired of being asked what he was.

  Casey came across the source of the noise relatively quickly–a gaggle of about six or seven people were surrounding a fallen, dead tree, which looked to have collapsed due to heavy snow. There was somebody else pinned beneath it partway.

  Wordlessly Casey shoved the crowd aside, ignored their startled and suspicious looks, wrapped his arms around the tree, and lifted it easily. “Pull him out,” he ordered the closest person, who, to their credit, recovered from his surprise quick enough to carefully haul his trapped companion away from the tree.

  When everyone was safely away from it Casey dropped the trunk and stepped over it to pick up the injured person, who was too large for anyone else to carry easily. “There's a settlement here, right? Lead on.”

  Sure enough, the inevitable wide-eyed stares and tentative questions followed soon enough, and Casey resisted the urge to throw something or punch a tree, mostly because his arms were full of injured civilian.

  “I'm Casey,” he said instead, with tired resignation. “Let's go, your friend needs help.” In just a few days he'd given up trying to fight people on this one, annoying as it was. Who wouldn't want a miracle in all this?

  They didn't argue with him further, and dutifully led him to their settlement, something not unlike the first one he'd been to. He silently carried their companion to the cave they used for the sick or injured, left him in the care of the woman in charge, and then launched into his usual inquiries about Alexa's family, producing the photographs as usual.

  He'd tried three times already, all without any degree of success or even recognition, and by this point Casey was tired of the hunt and sure this would be another dead end. So he was shocked to find one of the rescue party expressing genuine recognition as he pointed to the photograph of the single woman and said, “That's Kate! She does most of the gardening work.”

  For a moment it was Casey's turn to lose his voice from sheer surprise. After a moment he recovered, though, and said urgently, “Can you take me to her? I need to talk to her. Now. It's important. About her family.
”

  The rescuer had looked suspicious up until Casey's last words, but at the mention of family his eyes widened, and he nodded. The man silently led Casey through a small series of paths to a larger cave that appeared to act as a store room, where a woman was carefully stacking preserved vegetables in jars against one stone wall. The man called her name, and when she turned Casey found himself face to face with the woman in the photograph.

  There were differences, of course; she looked much older than she did in her picture, thinner and more worn, and her bright red ponytail had been cut to leave her hair short and practical. But the face was the same, and the polite smile she offered them when the rescuer called her name still had traces of Alexa's own in it.

  “Hi, Gary,” she greeted as they neared. “Who's the new guy? Did he get stuck out here with the weather?” She offered Casey a sympathetic look, and the clone couldn't help but note she didn't treat him with immediate distrust the way a lot of the settlers tended to.