by Theo Vigo
While all this is happening, Abe manages to make his way through the space in the door, this time, successfully, and without puncturing himself in it's vice. He makes it past that personal obstacle, finally fully inside of the living room and finally able to move again. He makes his way over to Margaret and her assailant. While fighting for her life, Margaret notices Abe and sees that he is approaching the scrimmage. She doesn't know what to make of it, but anyone would have a hard time thinking, having to endure the pressure she is currently under.
Margaret: No! Get off of me, you fucking bastard!
She continues blocking reckless arms and ferocious bites while Abe creeps closer and closer, coming up behind the being that is just like himself. It begins to become clear to Margaret that there is no jagged snag in the door holding Abe back any longer. If he wants to eat her (and he had certainly wanted to before), now would be his most opportune time. After all, she had treated him horribly throughout the entire training process. She had beaten him across the face with her big whooping stick at least five hundred times. If Abe decides to help his fellow zombie take her down so they can both share her as a meal, she probably deserves it. At least, that's the way she feels, and now Abe is directly behind the attacking zombie, raising his arms, about to join the fray.
Margaret: Abe, no! Stop! G-get out of here!
Abe ignores her orders. He doesn't have to listen to her anymore. Human flesh was always what he truly desired, and now it is free for the taking. He reaches forward to take hold of his long awaited prize.
Margaret: Abe, no! Abe! Aaaabe!
But it's too late. Abe's large grey hands grasp firmly on to their target, and Margaret's face turns to shock. It isn't an expression of terror, but more so a look of surprise, and her face remains frozen in that expression as her attacker is pulled off and away from her, being held at bay. She can't believe her eyes when she sees Abe holding the other zombie tightly by the shoulders, keeping it away from her. She realizes that Abe didn't have any intention of eating her at all. Abe had just saved her life.
For a moment, Margaret stays leaned up against the cabin door, watching the zombie that she had just been fighting with struggle unsuccessfully to get out of Abe's clutches. Her body is half frozen from the fear and half from experiencing what she thinks is a miracle, but by a minute's end, she snaps out of the shock and remembers that there is actually a ravenous flesh eating monster right in front of her.
The knife! Regaining her composure, Margaret looks down to see the messy blade on the floor by her feet. In one fluid motion, she bends down, grabs the handle and inserts the sharp edge into the struggling zombie's left temple. A moment later, and the walker becomes still in Abe's hands, her cue to withdraw the knife. She lets out an explicit sigh of relief, her shoulders drop as her body relaxes, and she looks down at her feet.
When she lifts her head back up, she is shocked by the same ugly face that was just trying to make a lunch out of her. Abe is still holding the thing up by its shoulders. She is confused for a second, but then Margaret figures out that it probably hasn't registered in Abe's brain-dead skull that it's okay to let it go.
Margaret: Uuhmm.. you can drop him now.
She helps him along by prying the dead walker out of his hands and letting it drop to the floor. Even with her personal up close experience with touching the things, she wretches at having to put her hands on it. When her gaze returns to her savior, a sensation of relief washes over her again, and she smiles at him.
Margaret: Abe,.. I don't know if you can understand me… But I think you can, so… thank you.
She honestly doesn't know for sure if Abe understands her, but thanking him seems like the appropriate thing to do. He had, after all, saved her life, and did it intentionally without getting stuck in anything. She places a grateful palm on his shoulder, and Abe stares back at her blankly.
Margaret: All right... so now what do I do with you?
THE THIRD WHEEL
Later in the evening, Margaret sits by her duffel bag eating her last can of noodle soup and three pieces of bread. She uses the soup as a dip again, a gourmet collation of the times. Abe stands close by eating as well. He chomps down on one of his rabbits, already having eaten three of the five treats that Margaret brought for him before she underwent her surprise attack. She stares at him eating, wide-eyed, while at the same time chewing on a piece of soup soaked bread.
Margaret: You know, you'd be much more comfortable if you took a seat.
Abe looks down at her when he hears her speaking, but he doesn't understand and just stares while chewing on a yummy piece of intestine.
Margaret: You're making me feel very uncomfortable. I hate it when people stand over me while I'm eating.
Still, he doesn't say a thing. Although, he can definitely hear her. This is confirmed by how intently he is staring at her, but he says nothing. He won't even make an effort. His silence frustrates her, so with a huff, she gets to her feet as fast as her tired legs will allow her, goes over to Abe and speaks sternly her command. Abe's pupils follow her every movement.
Margaret: Sit down.
When he doesn't move, she tries again.
Margaret: Abe, sit!
Abe watches but still doesn't comply, and Margaret lets go of another huff. She can't stand for this sort of insubordination, she won't, so much so that she literally grabs hold of Abe's legs and tries to bend them at the knee. She grunts with the amount of effort she has to exert, but in the end it is no use. Abe won't budge an inch, and neither will the joint bend. She gives up after a few more seconds of trying.
Margaret: Sit!… Down! Argh!
But it's hopeless. He may not be attacking her anymore, but Abe is far from being completely trained. Margaret is surprised, yet again, by how resilient and sturdy Abe's gangly looking legs are, and then it begins to make more sense to her, how a group of ten to twenty zombies can take down any shoddily built barrier or blockade. The undead creatures are a lot stronger than the frail bodied things they appear to be. Obviously, it depends on what each individual zombie has been through, whatever maiming their bodies have taken. Some of them only have one arm or one leg. Some of them are even unfortunate enough to have no legs or no arms at all. She's even seen some that are perfect stumps, with no legs or arms, but Margaret figures those zombies were just victims of angry humans who's sole intentions were to mutilate and torture the already mutilated and tortured.
Abe, however, looks like he is still in good shape as Margaret examines his now more intriguing physique. She has no idea what he might have been through before he showed up and killed the rest of her family, but his body still looks to be in satisfactory condition, if you look passed the multitude of rips in his clothing and the plethora of deep scratches and puncture wounds scattered all over him. Yep, with the exception of holes in his midsection caused by the door, an arm that looks a little damaged (cause unknown), a bruised up face caused by her, and his filthy torn clothes, Abe looks as tough as ever, and being unable to move him even a millimetre, is enough to prove to Margaret that he is just fine. Before she takes her seat again, she thinks to herself how horrifyingly powerful an army of zombies like Abe would be.
Margaret: Blah, fine then. Stay standing if you want to. See if I care.
She lets out one more huff and goes back to her place, sitting on top of her blanket beside her duffel bag to finish her meal. She speaks with her mouth full, slowly forgetting more and more of the manners she was taught in the old world.
Margaret: You'll learn eventually. I'll make sure you do… But I'll um… try not to beat you as much.
At that moment, Abe finishes the hare he is eating and drops it on the floor. Immediately after, he bends down and grabs the squirrel, which goes straight from the floor into his mouth.
Margaret: Oooo, I hope you like that. He… or she… was waaaay faster than the hares. It took me a few more tries before I finally got him… her… it… whatever. The squirrel.
Abe seems
to enjoy the squirrel but pretty much on the same level he enjoyed the hares. It's hard to tell how the walking corpse feels when his face can only express about two emotions. His usual look is one that reads tired or weary, and the other one just looks like anger at varying degrees. Now, while he is eating the squirrel, Abe wears the "tired" expression. Margaret has no idea how he feels about the new treat she brought for him, but at the rate he is eating it, she is quite certain that he is enjoying it.
Margaret: I know this is probably pointless to say, but you should probably slow down. The sun is setting. There's no way I'm going back out there tonight, so there won't be any food for you until some time tomorrow.
Just then Margaret takes her final bites of bread and last few slurps of noodle soup. She finishes the meal, but her murmuring stomach remains unsatisfied. As hungry as she still is, Margaret knows that it wouldn't be smart to eat any more food. She knows that she's running low on rations… but how low?
Checking the inside of her duffel bag, she finds one can of Spaghettios and a little over a half loaf of bread. She still has the water bottle that she can bring along with her and refill whenever she gets the chance, but she won't be able to survive on water alone. After swallowing a large gulp of h2o, she lets out a sigh.
Margaret: I'm almost out of food myself, Abe. I think we might have to leave this place tomorrow… Shit.
Abe responds by dropping the squirrel hide to the floor. Margaret chuckles halfheartedly, thinking about all of the trials she has already overcome, and the ones she has yet to face. She knows she has to leave, or she'll starve to death, and that would be a fate much worse than being eaten alive… maybe. Regardless, she knows she has to leave, but where should she go? And how well will she be able to fend for herself alone?
Margaret: At least I have you to keep me company.
Abe is already chowing down on the last of his woodland rodents. He seems rather nonchalant about the whole situation, a welcome change from the raging beast he used to be. Margaret, on the other hand, can begin to feel the stress bubbling in her belly, making it's way up in to her skull. The last thing she needs is a headache, so she makes a decision.
Margaret: Well, I'm gonna get an early night's sleep, Abe. I have a feeling this'll be the last time in a long while that I'm going to get to rest comfortably. Not that this place is at all comfortable.. It's just… I'm pretty sure I'm better off in this cabin than I'm going to be sleeping under bridges and on the ground out there.
She readies her blanket and starts to get nestled under it.
Margaret: Actually, that's another thing I envy about you. You don't have to sleep.
She lays her head down on the pillow and gets as comfortable as the broken down floor will let her.
Margret: (yawning) But like I said, if you get tired feel free to take a seat.
With that, Margaret closes her eyes and drifts away into unconsciousness.
<><><>
She wakes up the next day, and the room is it's usual bright self, with golden rays of light pouring in through the windows. Margaret blinks her eyes into focus and looks over to the spot that Abe was standing in the night before. She finds it empty with the exception of two bloody animal hides. This startles her, helping her along in the process of waking up. The fatigue suddenly leaves her body as she props herself up on to her right elbow.
Margaret: Abe?
But her mild panic is short lived, as she simply looks to the opposite side of the cabin and sees Abe still standing up. Only now, he is in the kitchen area, standing and staring at the wall of cupboards. Margaret breathes a sigh of relief when she realizes that she isn't alone.
Margaret: Abe!
Abe turns around to the sound of her voice and waits.
Margaret: I thought you left me. (sits up) That might've actually been the smarter thing to do. We have to leave soon, and it's gonna be hard enough keeping myself alive. It'll be a miracle if I'm able to keep both of us safe.
She looks over at Abe who stays quiet.
Margaret: We'll be leaving in twenty minutes… This place is starting to stink anyway.
The living room of the cabin has become an utter mess. Her mother's covered remains still sit by the door under the broken window, and the two zombies that attacked her the day before are in a two-man pile beside her mother's corpse. Part of her actually doesn't mind leaving, so twenty minutes later Margaret stands at the open door way with her duffel bag at her feet.
Margaret: Okay, this is it.
She picks up her bag and makes her way out the door. Before she exits, she looks down at her mother's hidden corpse sat to the door's right side. She doesn't bother to reveal it.
Margaret: I love you, Mom. Please, watch over me, you and Dad…
Unable to say goodbye, she leaves it at that and exits the cabin. She goes down the porch steps and calls back to Abe. He appears in the door and makes his way outside to meet her. While he approaches, she tries to decipher which way they should go.
Margaret: When my family and I found this place, we were on our way to Portland. I'm thinking we should probably just keep heading that way. We lost the map, but my father was pretty certain that it's that way.
She points in the direction heading behind the cabin as Abe stops at her side.
Margaret: I'd check my phone, but I lost that before we lost the map. We'll just have to take a chance… So,.. ready?
And thus begins the next chapter of their journey. They walk and walk for what seems like hours. When they had left the cabin, Margaret guessed that it was probably about 11am. The sun was very bright then and seems to only be getting stronger as the day goes by. The terrain isn't too difficult to traverse through, and the land is relatively kind, but now hours into their trip, everything is starting to look the same. She expects that it must be about three or four o'clock, although, she really has no idea, so she decides to take a rest. She finds a small shady clearing and takes a seat on the ground, resting her back against a large boulder. She exhales, totally bushed.
Margaret: I'm just gonna have a little snack, if you don't mind. Don't worry. I'm just gonna have a couple pieces of bread and some water. We'll be leaving sooner than you know it. I'm not even tired. I could walk so much longer. For hours! But what's the rush, right?
She talks to Abe while digging in her bag for her light snack. As tired as she truly is, she tries to not look weak in front of her partner. Abe doesn't look tired at all. He looks like he actually could walk for hours longer. Perhaps Margaret doesn't want him to see her as the feeble fleshly mortal that she is, so she acts tough to compensate for her worn out and sweaty appearance. She continues her performance.
Margaret: You better take it easy too. The sun must be killing you. It must be really bad for your skin, you know, speeds up the decomposing process. I'm not doing too badly. In fact, this whole experience has been pretty great. It's like going for a hike, and the landscape looks amazing. I can't wait to get started again… We'll get going in like five minutes.
She continues on like this while she eats her first few pieces of bread, but as time passes, Margaret's tone changes significantly. Five minutes had gone by at least twenty minutes ago, and now, she sits in a more reclined posture with her hands up, resting in between her head and the boulder, looking extra relaxed.
Margaret: …and I don't even know where we're going! We've been walking forever, and we could be going in the wrong direction completely. This whole thing is ridiculous… Fuck it. Fuck this, fuck walking… and fuck the wilderness!
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath in, opens her eyes and exhales.
Margaret: But it wouldn't be too smart of me to just lie here, would it?
She slowly gets to her feet and dusts herself off, then grabs her bag and walks over to Abe who is standing by the thick trunk of a large tree.
Margaret: Whoa… got a little bit of a head rush there. It's so bloody hot. (sighs) Okay, let's go, buddy.
She turns to begin walking agai
n, rubbing her head to clear the head rush, when she looks to the left and sees something shiny in the distance. The gleaming object stops her in her tracks, and she squints hard to try and make it out, but her vision is blurry, and her head is still coming down from the rush of standing up too fast. It makes it quite difficult to tell what the thing is.
Margaret: What the hell is that? Am I hallucinating already?
She squints even harder, narrowing her eyes to their limit, and suddenly the thing in the distance becomes recognizable. Her eyes widen when she realizes that the object is something being aimed in her and Abe's direction. She looks at Abe and makes a quick dash over to him, completely disregarding her healing ankle, and tackles him to the ground like a professional defensive lineman. She looks up at the tree that Abe was standing in front of and sees an arrow stuck in the trunk right around the area where his head would have been.
Margaret: (out of breath) Holy shit… well… I guess we're even now.
As Margaret gets off of Abe and back to her feet, she hears a something or someone approaching through the bushes. She hovers her trembling hand over the knife at her side, but what emerges from the leaves is not what she expects at all. A little black boy, dressed like a miniature jungle commando, comes charging into the clearing wearing a concerned expression.
The boy wears a black cloth bandana around his forehead like Ryu from Street Fighter. It goes well with his long sleeved black tee, cut short around the forearms and the black knapsack held tight to his back. Margaret can see about twenty arrows jutting out of it. On his lower half, the boy wears loose fitting camouflaged pants in black and dark green, and a pair of durable looking black runners. His bow is held tightly in his left hand, and when he sees Margaret and Abe, he swiftly takes out another arrow and draws it back on the string. His facial expression turns from a concerned one to a serious one. There's no way he's going to miss his target again, not at this point blank range, but before he releases the bowstring, Margaret throws herself back on top of Abe, obstructing the kid's shot.