by Alice Carina
From how they were acting, it looked like they understood their situation, and they didn't have guns with them. They probably didn't have anything to defend themselves with aside from blunt weapons like a bat or a club, and if they were lucky, they might have a knife. None of which would be very useful when they didn't have a plan and were probably starting to panic. They might even make things worse while they futilely tried to defend themselves.
However, there was one thing that none of us counted on. Not the zombies, not me, not even the three people cornered in the street had expected someone else to interfere. Six shots were fired, leaving six dead zombies, before I found the shooter. It was the same guy who had saved me the other day, I had no doubt. He was crouched by the second floor window of the office building next to the arcade. He was firing through the open window, and even as I watched he fired four more shots.
While the strange hero was shooting zombies, the group dumb enough to get caught ran for it. They didn't look back as they avoided the undead and ran into an alleyway. They were probably using an escape route they had already decided on beforehand, but even when they knew where they were going, they never looked back. I was certain that they hadn't even bothered to check who had saved them. Escaping had been more important to them than knowing how they had survived.
Any intelligent person would have been eager to join forces with someone who had a rifle and good aim. Well, at least people who actually wanted to be around other people would. I mean, if you're already in a group, while an extra member might increase the possibility of being found by the zombies, it decreased the chances of you dying. It was another person for the zombies to eat instead of you. This was exactly why I didn't like groups; there weren't enough people who actually had brains.
I glanced over at the strange guy who seemed to be in the habit of saving people for no other reason than the warm fuzzy feeling it gives him. He had stopped firing when the group had vanished, and now he was standing by the window, watching the zombies.
I don't know how he knew, perhaps he knew all along, but he glanced up at the rooftops all along the street until he found me. It might have been a guess, but he looked at me as if he knew I was there the whole time. I wasn't sure when there was so much difference between us, but I could've sworn he smiled at me. Then he saluted, just like last time, and backed away from the window, disappearing from view.
What a strange guy.
Chapter three
Chapter three: meeting
The three escapees never came back after what had happened, not that I had expected them to. I doubted they had even paused to consider thanking their saviour, but even if they had after what had happened to them there was almost no chance they would step outside their base for weeks.
The zombie horde had started to dissipate, like the ebb of the tide, but I doubted anyone else had noticed. There were still some that stayed close to the buildings the lucky survivors had passed through, but even they had begun to lessen.
I didn't expect to see the strange hero who felt the need to save people in this every man for himself apocalyptic society, and honestly seeing him twice was making me suspicious that he was following me. The poor guy might actually be keeping track of survivors moving around so he could save them, but that was still pretty creepy.
Oh well, whether the world had come to an end or not, there were always whack jobs that did crazy things that they probably considered reasonable. What could you do? And at least this time it worked out well for me. In the end that WAS all that really mattered.
But to my absolute shock, it seemed that the guy's daring rescue would not be the last I saw of him. In fact, he turned up two days later, on the roof of the building across the street he had used to save the dimwits who had been trapped. I couldn't understand why he would be in an office building; they didn't provide any resources and were probably still filled with zombies attracted by the strong scent of living humans.
I was on the roof as usual, observing the zombies as they went through their regular routine, but yesterday I had found a pair of binoculars in an abandoned apartment. Being able to observe the details of their movements was much easier when I could actually keep track of which zombie was which.
I looked up to make sure there was no movement higher up in the buildings, and there he was, sitting on the roof, his rifle next to him. He was facing my way, but looking down at the street. He was certainly strange, that was for sure. I watched him through the binoculars to work out what exactly he was doing, but before I could tell where he was looking, he noticed me watching and began to wave. Definitely a strange guy.
After he was sure that he had my attention, he picked up something from beside him. It looked like a board of some kind, but he had it resting in his lap and he was hunched over it so I couldn't see. I didn't know what he was doing, but considering his personality so far, it was probably going to cause me problems, although probably not life-threatening ones.
After a moment, he raised the object, and I could see it was a whiteboard. In large black letters he had written: 'HELLO. MY NAME IS MATT.' I wasn't sure how to react to this. Actually, my first thought was 'he stole the idea of communicating across the buildings from Dawn of the Dead'. Which was kind of ironic considering our situation.
I shrugged and raised my hands in an open-palm gesture, showing him that I was clearly not carrying around a whiteboard to respond with. He seemed to get the message as he rubbed the whiteboard and began writing again. Matt seemed pretty intent on his next few words, but I wasn't sure why; we had all the time in the world for him to write whatever he wanted.
'NICE TO MEET YOU.'
At that point I couldn't help but laugh. It had been so long since I'd laughed, it was kind of scary that I still could. The whole situation was just so strange that I couldn't help it. When Matt started to look concerned I laughed even harder. I laughed so hard it seemed like my sides were splitting, and eventually I wasn't even laughing anymore, just gasping for breath.
When I finally calmed down, I looked over at Matt. He looked really confused. Written on his board was a hastily written 'WHAT'S SO FUNNY?' I pointed at him, but that only made him more confused. 'OKAY...'
For a moment it seemed like that was the end of the conversation, but he began to write again. I wasn't sure what exactly we could talk about when only he could say anything. Soon enough, he had another question for me.
'IS THERE ANYONE ELSE WITH YOU?' I shook my head, but I wasn't sure if he had seen my answer. After a moment he pulled the scope off his rifle and looked at me. I shook my head again, and this time he saw it.
'DO YOU KNOW WHERE ANY OTHER SURVIVORS ARE?'
Matt didn't seem pleased with my answer. When I gestured towards him, he merely wrote 'I LEFT'. Nothing else needed to be said. I had heard of people abandoning their original groups in search of friends and family. It never seemed to work out as well as they hoped.
'I AM GOING TO FOLLOW THE SURVIVORS FROM THE OTHER DAY. I THINK THEY HAVE A LARGER GROUP.'
I waited as he scrubbed off the message and began to write a new one. I felt sorry for Matt, especially if he was still searching for someone. That couldn't end well. But I had a bad feeling about this group he wanted to follow. There was just something about the way they had acted that made me suspicious. I couldn't put my finger on exactly what it was that unnerved me, but I knew something was wrong.
'DO YOU WANT TO COME WITH ME?'
I shook my head. Matt looked disappointed by my answer, but no way was I going anywhere near a group, especially not such a suspicious one. It looked like the knight in shining armor was on his own again, and once again I would be alone.
It's not like I was sad that he was gone. After everything I've been through? Of course not. It was just kind of upsetting to see someone stupid enough to save people leave. Now who would sacrifice themselves to save me? My potential pawn was leaving, definitely something to be sad about.
'I'LL CHECK IN ON YOU EVERY NO
W AND THEN'
Why?
Why did he care? Once he had a group, he'd have plenty of other people he could die saving. Why did he care about someone being left behind? Sigh. Matt was such a weirdo.
Chapter four
Chapter four: departure
Matt's POV
How depressing. I finally find another person traveling alone and he doesn't like groups. Okay, so that is actually pretty reasonable. But still! He could at least check it out, couldn't he? I mean, I'm not a bad person and I'm sure he knows it. I mean, I saved three people right in front of him, and I saved him before that. So... I'm not a bad guy. So why can't he trust me?
Well, I guess you couldn't be too trusting in a zombie apocalypse, but couldn't you at least be grateful? It seems as if everyone I save runs off without so much as a word of thanks. Well... I guess that's not entirely true. Mr I can't possibly socialize with others hadn't run away, technically I had. Oh well, at least I actually saw him again after that, which is more than I could say for all the others.
I had been moving from place to place for so long that everything I could possibly need was already packed. I had a separate bag for my ammo, but it was still full from the last time I had stocked up. The only thing left was to follow the survivors from the other day to their group, which wouldn't be hard. Hopefully this group would be more helpful than the last one.
That was probably why the loner I had saved was avoiding them; it was too dangerous to join a group that you didn't know. They wouldn't trust you, and at the first sign of danger they would save themselves and leave you for dead. I guess it helped when you had something to offer like I did; the ammo and ability to use a rifle. Very useful.
I could have used some company on my short journey to the next group. No matter how trusting I had decided to be to the other survivors, it definitely wouldn't hurt to have an ally when I went there. Besides, I couldn't be certain, but I could've sworn that the guy had been watching the zombies. I had no idea why, but he was... Just watching them.
Okay, that kind of made him sound creepy, even to me. I dunno, maybe I should start calling him mr creepy since I didn't know his name. Or maybe that was a bit harsh since they were zombies. I'm over thinking this. Figures, first person I come across for weeks and I decide he's creepy.
What is this world coming to when you can't even stare at people, like a stalker, without being called creepy? I knew it, the world is falling apart. No one deserves to be ridiculed for spending hours watching others from his hiding place. If he hadn't ditched me, I would defend his right to stalk the zombies. Too bad I had to leave...
With a pre-packed bag and my rifle strung over my shoulder, I took one final look around at the office I had called my home the past few days. There wasn't much there, just snacks in the vending machines and bottled water, but it had an excellent view of the street and plenty of exits and hiding places. Plus I was going to miss my neighbor. Even now I could see him sitting on the roof of the apartment building staring down at the streets below.
There wasn't much point in saying goodbye again, but I was honestly tempted, if only to talk to him again, even if it was one-sided. Wow, I've gotten sentimental in my old age. Wait, can you even be considered old when you're barely into your twenties? I suppose you could if it was a kid looking at you...
Huh? I have GOT to stop talking to myself! This is exactly why I need to find more people; I am going insane. Oh well, what were you going to do when surrounded by the living dead?
It was always safer traveling during the day than at night, simply because the zombies didn't rely on their sight to track down their prey. Any noise could mean your doom, especially when you were unable to avoid them because you couldn't see. It didn't matter too much since I was going to avoid touching the ground as much as possible. Otherwise I would be too easily surrounded. Instead, moving across roofs was the safest way to travel.
I had to move slowly so that I didn't draw attention, but every time I went down onto the street, no matter how quiet I was, the zombies began to gather. It could have been nothing, but it also could have been my scent alerting them to my presence. Both could lead to my death, but the latter would almost definitely end in hundreds of deaths of the few survivors that were left.
It wasn't too easy to work out where exactly it was I was heading, but the survivors had not fled while thinking of covering their trail. They had actually been incredibly obvious. If I wasn't following panic-stricken survivors who had almost been killed, I would have thought it was suspicious. They had dropped things, kicked things off the road, and even killed a few zombies. Pretty obvious that humans had passed through.
Eventually it became too hard to follow the signs from the roofs looking over the street. I wasn't happy about it, but I had to go down onto the road, leaving the safety that the buildings offered. There were less signs the longer I followed the trail, and I was beginning to wonder if something had happened to the survivors I had saved. I really hoped they hadn't gotten themselves killed after all the effort I went to to save them.
That was of course until I saw their base. I would have missed it if I had so much as looked down the moment a light flashed in one of the glass doors of the shopping centre opposite me. From the size and movement, it looked like torchlight. It was only there for a moment, then it was gone, but I had seen it. There was someone hiding inside the mall.
Now why hadn't I thought of that? There were plenty of supplies in a shopping centre, lots of rooms with locks, even an extensive ventilation system that could be used in an emergency. The place was the perfect base, providing a perfect defense and an ample amount of food.
The only problem with living in a mall was that you had to remove all the zombies that wandered the place. In the initial spread of the infection, hundreds of people were killed in shops, anywhere that a lot of people were in a wide, open space helped spread the infection, turning them into the living dead. I had seen quite a few of places like these filled with zombies just waiting to devour a foolish survivor.
So, to live in one of these places, you had to seal the entrances, kill all of the zombies, searching every room so that there was no chance of being attacked wherever you went. You also had to make sure there was no sound, especially not screams or shouting. Any human noise brought their attention. Once all of this had been done, it was safe, but only until you ran out of food.
Taking a deep breath, I moved towards the doors. I doubted they would be locked - zombies couldn't use doors - and I was right. I walked inside slowly, waiting for at least a few of the survivors to rush over with weapons and threaten me. That didn't take long at all.
"What do you want?" demanded one of the three men. A giant of a man, he was tall and muscled, wielding an axe that I doubted I could even attempt to lift, he was an impressive guard.
"What, I'm not allowed to come greet the neighbors? Is there something wrong with survivors working together?"
I knew that those simple words had probably made the scary man hate me, but it couldn't be helped; I couldn't let them treat me like an outsider, or else they would lock me up, steal my ammo and gun, and use me for all I was worth before discarding me... Just like what happened last time. I was sure this group would be just as bad, but that couldn't be helped; they were all like that.
Chapter five
Chapter five: colony
With three of the biggest men I had ever seen in my life as my guards, I was slightly intimidated as I was 'escorted' to what I assumed was the person (or people) of power in the group. At least I hoped I was being taken to someone. It would suck if they were just taking me to be locked up in a room somewhere until they knew what to do with me.
I was actually kind of surprised when they brought me to some semblance of a gathering point. I was more surprised by the fact that it was in the food court. I would have thought they'd at least pick somewhere with comfortable chairs... But no, they picked the white, unbelievably uncomfortable, plastic chairs. Whatever, i
t wasn't up to me what they did.
When the 'leaders' came into view, I wasn't sure what to think. Okay, so nothing they did was what I expected, but I had expected someone strong, resourceful, to be their leader. The three men before me were nothing like that. They all looked like office workers, one of them was even wearing a suit! What was going on?
"So, another survivor? What brings you here?" asked the man in the suit. He looked particularly arrogant and apathetic, even when compared to the other old men.
"Is it so wrong to seek out others when things are like this?" I thought it was a reasonable question, but they didn't seem to think so, their expressions twisting with distaste.
"Hmph, how can we trust you? You could be working for someone else, trying to steal our supplies!" said the oldest, a man with white hair, but still healthy enough to be working.
"What is the world coming to?" I said in a dramatic voice. "You can't even trust your fellow man when the world has come to an end? Why?!"
They weren't very impressed by my question. They looked down on me as if I was some kind of worm marring their perfect floor. Again, WHY ARE THEY IN CHARGE?! Anyone would be better than these self-centered old men. And I mean anyone. Who was in charge of picking these idiots as the leaders?
"I'm just kidding!" jeez, can't these people take a joke? "I'm only interested in exchanging information, and if possible looking for someone I know. That's all, and if you want me to leave, I will. I'm just saying that I could be useful, you know, help each other, like in the old days."
The old men exchanged a highly suspicious look. It made me nervous how they turned to glance at me, looking me up and down, considering. They looked at me like I was a tool, something to be used for their own gain, and that worried me. I wasn't particularly fond of being used, and probably thrown away when I was no longer useful.