A crisp, cool breeze blew across the mostly open field, causing the lush green grass to sway gently and bringing little waves to the shore of a small pond. From somewhere to the right the sound of leaves rustling could be heard. To a sensitive enough ear, it may even have been possible to hear the sound of a few bright orange leaves breaking away from and falling to the ground. From the other side there was just a hint of shade from a large, dead tree to interrupt the bright sunlight which fell over the meadow. Reflected in the surface of the pond, wispy white clouds moved slowly across the perfectly blue sky, the whimsical strands disrupted by the moving water.
A small splash disrupted the relative silence for a moment and a figure clad in a purple sweatshirt and blue jeans watched the growing circle of ripples emanating from where her hook and sinker penetrated the water's surface. Her father had once told her that fishing was a beautiful sport, tranquil and allowing plenty of time to think but punctuated with the excitement of the catch and the effort of pulling it in without breaking the line. She couldn't help but wonder, as her bored eyes took in the muted color palette of her surroundings, if that was actually a good thing.
It gave her a chance to dwell on her state, to shiver in the cool wind and regret the loneliness that was slowly crushing her every bit as much as the changes that had swept through and destroyed her world. The virus that had taken her parents, had turned the world into an alien place where zombies wandered aimlessly while more mutated things prowled about for their next meal. Forced to recall the moment when she had had to finally shoot another person, their body ravaged by the infection and their mind gone, it still looked enough like a person to haunt her. From there she had become a skilled killer of the infected and the thought was bringing an uncharacteristic thrill to her.
She looked at the water and squinted, her heightened vision and possibly sense of smell suggesting that prey was close. The floater bobbed in the water and her hands registered a tug on the line, causing her to begin to reel in the fish. The line bucked and she responded while pushing away the instinct to just yank the thing out of the water, willing herself to counter the fish's struggles with constant but reasonable force and adjustments until she had pulled the fish out of the water.
Once it hit the atmosphere however, it began to thrash violently and for a moment she watched it struggle, her mind flashing elsewhere on the realization that it was struggling to get the oxygen its gills couldn't extract from the air...
It had been warm but cloudy and everyone was tired as the foursome trudged through the darkened streets in search of a safe room or any other shelter they could take. She had been leading the way with her companions in a line behind her watching the sides and rear for threats. The sound of coughing had been the first warning and she had whipped around, sending her brown hair flying as she trained her weapon on the rooftops, slowly tracing across the lines of the various buildings and following the faint sound of wheezing that was almost drowned out by the pounding of her adrenaline soaked heart.
The sound of three people rising off of their knees broke the spell of her concentration and the commanding, somewhat gravelly voice of their de-facto leader broke the silence, asking what it was.
"Must have been nothing..." She answered sheepishly after taking a moment to deduce, based on the faces of the others, that they hadn't heard or noticed anything out of the ordinary.
They all nodded and resumed the single file formation to move forward. A faded yellow marking painted onto a building caught her eye and offered the hope of a safe resting spot and maybe some of the food she was craving as well. With a look and a military hand signal she directed them to turn at the next corner. Behind her a murmur of uncertainty and she narrowed her eyes while clenching a glove covered hand to help muffle the voice in her head that said they knew. She turned into the alley and heard the footsteps of the others follow after.
All but one... She whipped around in time to be greeted by the sound of a strangled cry and bolted towards the intersection, outrunning the two men despite being farther away. She could see the old veteran dangling in the air, the thick tongue of a smoker constricting his neck while he kicked his legs and struggled against the crushing force.
She crouched while the two men brought up their rifles. Using her ears she oriented her rifle and then narrowed her eyes, causing the darkness to further dispel and granting her a clear vision of the smoker. She adjusted her aim and pulled the trigger in an instant, not even waiting to see if her shot was accurate before jumping up to save the man she regarded as a second father.
The other's saw only a blur of red as she moved past them while ripping off one glove. She skidded to a halt before Bill and grabbed at the muscle still wrapped tightly around his throat while her other hand helped to catch his fall. Her nails tore through the tongue like it was tissue paper and the elderly man took a deep gasp of air. Louis and Francis walked up to congratulate Zoey on her impressive save but stopped short when they saw Bill staring at her with an almost cold, weary look. His eyes remained fixed on the almost claw like nails evident on her hand.
Suddenly self conscious she balled her fist and turned away, all too aware of the stares that Louis and Francis were giving her. Their friendship was turning into suspicion and could she blame them? The strange cravings she developed, her senses and the changes to her body, if they knew about them, what would they think?
A crunching sound interrupted the reminiscing and she turned to see what it was, the bloody fish now reduced to very weak spasms in her hands. A wild dog growled at her, its eyes on the fish she held in her hand. She growled back, internally struggling against the instinct that told her the dog would be a better meal than the fish. She yelled sharply and the animal backed away, then finally turned and walked off. Zoey brought the fish to her lips and bit into it, the taste offending and exciting her at the same time.
Unbidden, her troubled mind brought another memory to life along with a peculiar song that she could recall from her college days. Called Run Away, it was a sad instrumental from 'Pokemon Dungeon Red/Blue rescue team' that seemed to so perfectly describe how she had ended up here.
Bill was glaring down at her prone form while she snarled back at him; Writhing and struggling to get free of Francis and Louis who grunted in pain as they struggled to hold her down. Francis' grip faltered and she tore free, sharp teeth barred and clawlike nails ready to rip into the soft flesh of the old man's belly. Louis shifted himself and reached for her other shoulder but Bill had been quick enough and slammed the butt of his rifle into her forehead and knocking her unconscious.
When she woke up she found herself tied up, her hands and feet bound painfully tight while another length of duck tape secured her torso to some kind of column. In the distance she could hear them arguing over her future. Out of reach were many tools that could have freed her, for some unknown reason the hardware store that housed this safe-room seemed to not have been looted to bare shelves.
"Bill, you can't be serious."
"Yes Louis, he can," Francis answered gruffly, "she fucking tried to eat me and have you seen her! She looks more like those things out there every damn day."
"But it's not like she asked to be this way Francis!" Louis lowered his voice to a more grave tone, "We have no idea what those military guys gave us while they were treating us."
Bill sighed, he did sympathize with Louis but Francis had a good point and from the military perspective there weren't many options. "We also don't know if there's any way to reverse it or how much farther it'll progress. Can we really still trust her?"
"Not if she's becoming infected." Francis answered, before he glared pointedly at Louis. "Would you really want her at your back knowing that she did this?" He lifted his shirt and showed the deep cuts that still oozed blood.
Bill looked sadly at her form, "Louis, you should go if you don't want to see this... Take Francis and find some fuel, I'll..." His voice faltered for a moment, "I'll take care of her." With that he turned away, pulled out his Magnum and hit the lever to release the weapon's clip. he pressed his thumb to the top and released a single bullet, inspecting it carefully before pressing it back into place. Satisfied that he wasn't going to end up with a misfire he went to Zoey and wondered if he was hoping she was awake or still unconscious.
"This is it, huh? You're just going to shoot me here in cold blood," Zoey spat.
Bill looked at her through the tears in his eyes, "We used to have flamethrowers in 'nam and just like in World War Two, flamethrowers were especially hated by the enemy. So when a company went out with somebody assigned to that job, they promised the man two things. One, he wouldn't be allowed to burn to death. If something happened to the weapon the rest of the squad would put a bullet in his head to save him from suffering. The second promise was that he wouldn't be allowed to be captured alive..." He raised the gun and gripped it in both hands, pressing the cool metal to the temple of the girl he had come to consider his daughter. "I'm sorry... I promise this'll be quick."
Zoey stared into the eyes of the man who had saved her life, the same man that would end it, and searched for any reprieve as she struggled against her bonds.
"BILL!" Louis yelled just before the veteran could pull the trigger, "Wait!"
"What is it now Louis?" He demanded angrily even though he was grateful for the reprieve. This was only going to be more difficult the longer he considered it.
"I just want a minute to say goodbye."
"Alright..." He holstered his weapon, "You've both earned that much."
Louis kept his face towards Zoey but watched the older man depart out of the corner of his eye, not daring to move until he was out of sight. Then he quickly went around the pillar Zoey was tied to and began to cut the tape that bound her waist with the knife he'd taken from the store. "So Zoey, I um... I guess this is goodbye. I wish it wasn't going to-"
"Louis, what are you doing?" Zoey hissed in a low voice as he moved to her free her hands.
"Freeing you," he whispered back. "I don't care what they say you do not deserve to die."
The brown-haired teenager looked around quickly and doubted herself, she had attacked Francis and she knew she could easily become a danger again. But instinct similar to the one that had taken control earlier took over and once her hands were close enough to be free, she pulled on the tape binding them and broke them. Before Louis could react she shoved him away and bent down to break the ropes on her feet.
"LOUIS!"
Her head whipped around and she spied Francis in the doorway, raising his shotgun just a little too slowly. Jumping out of the crouch, she charged and knocked him down then bolted towards the door as a bullet whizzed by her head. Bill swore as she passed by and tried to steady his aim against the recoil of the overpowered handgun. The sounds of the explosions rang in her ears as she ran away from the family that had once adopted her.
A/N: This is the result of Zoey Overbeck asking for a song fic and choosing a song with no lyrics. The Zoeyhunter character belongs to her and is used with her permission.