by Arthur Stone
Pulling a calculated run past the boat, Rocky managed to grab the oar and yank it free from the oarlocks. Without even turning around, he jabbed the handle into the ghoul, who was already practically breathing down the back of his neck. The move hardly dissuaded the beast, but at least it caused an unhappy growl.
In the meantime, Rocky gained some distance between them. The water was above waist height now. Still unsure of why infecteds didn’t like water, he observed that his pursuer’s speed had dropped considerably.
Rocky spun and smacked the creature on the head. A crunch rang out, but unfortunately it wasn’t the bones of the beast’s skull but the snapping of the tip of the oar. The ghoul staggered and lost his balance, collapsing into the water face-first and panicking, flailing its arms in an attempt to get itself up as quickly as possible.
Rocky began to unceremoniously beat it, slamming his simple weapon down again and again, like a peasant beating out a rug. The unbent piece of the paddle fell off now, as the sharp edges that remained tore the infected’s flesh, staining the water red. The ghoul had no time even to growl properly as another blow shoved his head into the murk. Still he hit, again and again.
The plastic part of the oar was now a mutilated mess, but not as much as the monster’s head. It was down at last. Breathing heavily, Rocky looked around and made sure no new zombies were rushing to rescue the slain one. He dragged the final victim over to its three siblings, who by now had stopped twitching.
The short, unpleasant business of slicing for trophies began. Thankfully, he had taken a knife from the truck back in the lot. Once he gutted these four, he would go further. And take out whomever else he met. All of the ghouls that had been following the boat along this shore had to be destroyed. The dam area had to be completely clear.
If he ran into any absurdly huge creatures, he would lead them back down to the mouth of the river and lose them there.
Chapter 26
Life Five: Night at the Dam
Kitty sat by the same window in her black office chair, still holding and stroking the rifle. Rocky carelessly tossed a bag full of webbing and spores onto the windowsill and asked, without emotion, “Should I put some tea on?”
The girl did not reply. She acted as if she hadn’t heard at all. Only her open eyes and cognizant expression proved she was not asleep or dead. Yes, this looked like the beginning of a serious fight.
But Rocky was not discouraged. He remembered how his companion’s mood could fluctuate like a weathervane in a windstorm. The bad moods didn’t usually stick around for long. And neither did the good.
She was quick to forgive, too, and he hadn’t done anything beyond forgiving. He had even done a couple of useful things, clearing the area around the dam of ghouls and getting some spores at the same time. Sure, his forearm was wrapped in bandages, but how could he have known that a smashed-in skull did not always guarantee instant death for a ghoul?
The monsters were still full of surprises. Lousy surprises. So he wasn’t back unharmed, but he was victorious, even in that last battle.
As he heated up some water, making himself smell like soot again, Rocky told Kitty the carefree story of his three skirmishes with small groups of beachgoing infecteds. He made sure to mention his skills at throwing deadly objects, and lamented that his lack of knowledge and experience had gotten his arm scratched. The girl continued her silence. Try as he might, he could not pull her out of this state. But he could feel the clouds of psychological tension coalescing.
Kitty was dissatisfied. Very dissatisfied. Bordering on furious.
As he related the details of his adventures, he ventured some ideas, complaints about how he might have performed better. “A fast-acting poison would be a great thing to acquire. Slather it on your blades and it won’t even be essential to hit them in the head. A couple of seconds go by, and boom, it’s a corpse. Or at least writhing on the ground, no threat to anyone. But where can we find poison?”
“It’s all over,” Kitty said without a trace of emotion, without even a hint of life in her voice.
Rocky was overjoyed to get any response from her, but he tried to hide his happiness. He pushed for details. “Where is ‘all over’? I haven’t ever seen any.”
“Yeah, you have. Many times. You’re just so blind you miss all the obvious things.”
“Give me a hint, at least.”
“Flakes.”
“Flakes? What are those?”
“The stuff left over from spores, peas, and stars. The stuff that doesn’t dissolve.”
“The stuff filtered out by that gauze.”
“Yes.”
“I remember you saying that was poison, yeah. How bad is it?”
“The tiniest pinch of the stuff will send you straight to respawn. Well, you’ll live an hour, tops, and it will be a very unhappy hour. In the bloodstream, a few milligrams is enough to instantly paralyze you completely. And that includes your heart. And lungs. You might survive if there’s a good healer around, or at least a doctor with life support equipment. But your chances would not be good. Without instant help, you won’t make it to ten minutes.”
“Does it work against infecteds?”
“Yes, but not as well. It will kill the little ones quick, but it just slows down the bigger ones. A large dose might paralyze them, but it won’t kill them.”
“Well, that sounds useful. You guys should put this poison on your bullets.”
“Bad idea.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“The mildest heating breaks flakes down. And the poison is unstable even without heat. It can last for several weeks in a cold alcohol solution, but two days in the open air will render it inert. Who wants to keep coating their weapons with a substance that kills you if you accidentally get it in a fresh scratch?”
“Yeah, that does complicate things. But... Those freaks we bumped into at the right had a crossbow. The tips could be coated with poison and then stored in alcohol. It wouldn’t dissolve them. They’d be at the ready to take out and screw onto crossbow bolts when needed.”
“Unfortunately, the presence of metal in the solution accelerates the reaction, countering the preservative effect of the alcohol and breaking the poison down at a normal rate. By the way, Rocky, how many times do I have to tell you not to go stupidly wandering off without asking?”
The sudden change in subject failed to throw Rocky off. He had been expecting it. His answer was just as sudden.
“Lots of times. But this wasn’t stupid.”
“Don’t you remember the start of all of this?” Kitty interrupted. “When we had just met? I warned you not to fall for me. And I have never ceased to remind you of that, just so you wouldn’t forget. I’m assuming you know what ‘fall for’ means. It means to quit staring at me like a puppy, to quit bothering me with dumb questions, and to quit trying to impress me with stupid ways of acting out. Or smart ways of acting out. But you wouldn’t listen to me, Rocky. That’s bad. Very bad.”
“I’m sure people have told you that you take simple things way too seriously.”
“People have told me a lot of things. All kinds of things. None of that matters. Not to me, anyway. You’re leaving tomorrow. On your own. And if you want us to part as friends, you won’t try to delay that.”
“Kitt, OK, it was stupid, but you should think about this.”
She continued as if Rocky had said nothing at all.
“I’ll tell you how to find the stable. You decided to act on your own. Good. You’re becoming independent. So now we’ll both be on our own. This had to happen sooner or later. I’ve been telling you that since the beginning, and I’ve prepared you the best I could. And you did everything you could to make that happen as fast as possible. Good job, you did it. This is it for us. Now, leave me for a while. I need to be alone. Don’t say anything. Just go.
“How long do I have to stay away?” said Rocky miserably.
“For a couple of hours, at least.”
&nb
sp; * * *
Rocky stopped filing. One end of the reinforcing bar was sharpened, and the other weighted with an impromptu handle of aluminum wire. He checked the tip with his finger, and decided he was finished. Even if some people would be more perfectionist about it. There was still some rust on the bar, and it was as unpolished as Kitty’s swamp outfit. But maybe that was a plus. Even a small amount of flakes would have trouble sticking to smooth metal. And an unpoisoned rod would hardly be effective here.
Rocky stayed seated and barely swung his arm. The rod drove deep into a block of foam leaning against the wall by the door. Right on target. Just like all the times before. That was great—when the target was immobile. But otherwise, his Accuracy took over. He had seen near the bridge that he couldn’t hit targets reliably under those conditions.
This negative thinking wasn’t doing him any good. He sent more hastily-made spears into the same block of foam. Dead on, each time, but that didn’t make him feel happy. His mood was shot, and he knew that the weapon was just too incapable to deal with any but the weakest infecteds. Kitty had told him that a stab in the eye wasn’t enough to take out the strongest beasts. Only a bullet could punch through their eye protection.
Kitty was in his thoughts again. No matter what he did, she was there. And no wonder. She had been the teacher, the one who opened the door to this new world. His closest friend. Who else could be in his thoughts?
No, this was different. He had to stop lying to himself. He didn’t want Kitty as his teacher. He wanted her as his companion. A real companion, not just a girl tagging along, or whom he was tagging along with. He had behaved like an awkward schoolboy around her, and deserved this kick in the ass.
That much was predictable.
Or it should have been. But how could someone as unreasonable as he was predict anything?
Kitty was right. He couldn’t think straight.
Meaning he would have to leave the next day. Even if he lost all romantic feelings, he still couldn’t leave her. Despite all her assurances to the contrary, her shin was still shattered. She needed more time to recover.
That’s what he would bring up whenever he was allowed to talk to her again. He had to keep himself from expressing any romantic feelings at all. Not even a hint. He wasn’t even sure of them, anymore—and she would certainly not take them well.
No, I really like this girl. She was so unusual, so unlike what he wanted, and yet all he wanted. He liked her more with every passing minute. Rocky even no longer minded when she called him “moron.” It was kind of nice.
If “Crush on Kitty” was a meter hidden somewhere in his impossible confusing menu, well, soon it would be filled to the max. But that max was not here yet. Rocky wasn’t dumb enough to think he could outsmart her emotions. She was so different. Being genuine was his only shot.
Yet he wasn’t sure that was what he needed right now, and it was obvious that Kitty needed it even less.
That episode in her past had closed her romantic side, perhaps forever. She would live a loner. She liked that life, and she knew how to live it. Rocky only knew what she deemed to tell him, and there were certainly things she didn’t tell him. He suspected that she might have had to purchase an extra closet to hold all of the skeletons. But even that did not spoil his love for her.
She was the incarnation of self-sufficiency, somehow keeping her dignity and independence even when a zero was carrying her around on his back. His desire to know her better was torturous. But how could he ever get close? She had walls up. Spike pits. Mines under every approach.
Maybe she was right, and it was just time to split up. A few more days like this, and the prospect of leaving her would turn him suicidal. Or maybe a few more hours would be enough.
* * *
Rocky tried to stomp as loudly as possible as he ascended the stairs to give warning of his approach.
“Two hours have passed. Do you mind if I make some tea?”
“Go ahead.”
It looked like she hadn’t budged from that spot the whole time he was gone. She sat at the same window, hands on her rifle, staring off into the darkening twilight. Perhaps she had been doing something else and just resumed the pose when she heard Rocky returning, but he hoped not.
He hoped she was regretting what she had said, reconsidering, willing to forgive everything out of place that he had done during their time together.
But Rocky made no haste to launch into a difficult conversation. Instead, he boiled some water quickly. He was getting used to his primitive kettle. He placed a mug on the windowsill in front of the girl and sat at the same table. Doing his best not to feel pushy or aggressive, he spoke. “You can kill me if you want, but I will not leave you.”
“No one in this world cares about your opinion,” she responded uncaringly, reaching out for the steaming cup.
Rocky tried a different tack. “You can’t walk without my help.”
“That’s my problem. And I’ll get over it soon enough.”
“Once you do, then we will talk about splitting up.”
“No, Rocky. We will not talk about it. By tomorrow, you’ll be gone. Get your things ready and packed right now.”
“You’re being a fool, Kitt.”
“That’s your opinion. And like I said, no one in this world cares about it. I never said I was the smartest girl around. I’m a human being, like you. I can make mistakes.”
“Ah,” Rocky agreed. “Well, this is one of them.”
“If I’m wrong, well, I’ll accept the consequences. There are more important things at stake.”
“Like?”
“I don’t know where we are, but I have my suspicions. I will explain to you how to follow the landmarks, where to go, what to look for, what places are dangerous and what places are not. If you take the right turns, you’ll have a decent chance of reaching the stable. If not, well... The worst that can happen is you’ll go to respawn again. And your chances of survival will be much better with the knowledge I’ve been able to give you.”
“Thank you for all that knowledge, yes. But you’re wrong. Very wrong. Maybe I messed up when I went hunting for those ghouls. I shouldn’t have argued or disobeyed you. But...”
“Rocky, it’s not about the ghouls. Enough already. We’re not going to talk about this. I don’t want to hear another word about it. Not a word. We’ll finish our tea and watch the night through this window. I’ll tell you how to get to the stable. And then you’ll sleep well and be on your way in the morning. And that will be it.”
“Tell me something,” said Rocky, almost giving up but holding on for some reason he could not explain.
“I must not have made myself clear.” She was starting to raise her voice.
“Why are we doing this? You don’t need this, and I don’t need this.”
“You need this. There’s no doubt about that.”
“I have doubts about that.”
“The longer you stay with me, the dumber you get. I know I’m not the most beautiful girl, but many men find something about me attractive. Very attractive. They lose their heads. When you’re around me, Rocky, you basically stop thinking entirely. You stop thinking about what’s important. That will get you killed. Fast.”
“So I’ll go respawn again. I don’t see anything too terrible about that.”
“You’re not alone, though. There are two of us, and when we’re together, we depend on each other. A stupid mistake made by you can get us both killed. And has. You don’t see anything bad about that, but I do. I’m no newcomer. Let me explain. There was this guy. Before you showed up. He was a newcomer, just like you. Better than you in most ways, but he didn’t know how to shoot. I taught him everything. He got attached to me, and for some reason I got attached, too. Like a fool. I didn’t send him to a stable. He was chill. Cool. So cute. Nice, too. Not cocky, and just a little older than me. He behaved like a knight, chivalrously clearing trails for me, guarding me from anything and everything that moved. One ni
ght, when we were nearly freezing from the weather, he took everything that he was wearing off so that he could warm me, instead.”
Rocky was listening intently. He nearly bit the edge of the mug as his jaws tremored in a nervous spasm. He couldn’t believe it. This girl, who seemed to be the epitome of purity, was talking about some guy warming her up when it got cold out.
He felt jealousy well up within him. But what business was it of his? What did he care whom she had been with before him? But no, he felt like he could punch through a wall.
Indescribable jealousy.
“Once, I sent him to a stable so that he could buy some armor-piercing rifle rounds. I couldn’t go myself. It was dangerous, and you know why. He knew the story, too. So he returned with the ammo, and off we went. Something gnawed at me then. Some bad premonition. My intuition told me everything was wrong. So when my dear, nice boy shot me in the leg, it wasn’t a surprise. I almost dodged it. Too bad he still hit me. I had to waste a life because of my failure to dodge. I shot myself in the head. That wasn’t the first time. I’m good at it by now. I shoot right here, straight into the bridge of my nose. It ruins my face. I always try to really screw up the way I look so that my dead visage terrifies whoever looks at it. For Romeo, you see. Perhaps the spectacle will spoil his mood, at least a little.”
“This man decided to turn you in?”
“Yes. He must have figured things out in the stable. Or maybe they forced him to make a deal with them. He didn’t say anything to me about it, not even in the chat window, and he left the party before shooting me. When you’re in a group, it’s very difficult to hurt someone else in the group. Friendly fire isn’t common here. There are ways to trick the System on that point, but newcomers are unlikely to know them.”