A/N: This is dark. A look into a world that I've been wanting to write for awhile: The Host as a world of zombies. These are the major flashbacks of The Host rewritten to this universe. Some direct quotes from the novel, and there are several scenes that have been completely reimagined or that were never revealed in The Host. If anybody would want to build on this- I sort of see it as a prologue to the real story I wanted to write but somehow can't- PM me. I am willing to give the idea up for adoption to somebody who can finish this thing I have wanted to write for about 3 years.
I do not own The Host, or its characters. I'm just playing with them.
Night time came hours ago, but the heat is still smothering. It doesn't seem fair.
I crouch behind a scrubby creosote bush, listening carefully for any sign of life… or I guess more accurately, the dead. I may not trust much of the human race (what's left of it) but at least they don't generally try and rip your throat out, literally, as a greeting.
My stomach gurgles, and I clench my muscles trying to silence it. I feel as if that alone could draw attention to the fact that something with pumping blood is hiding out. Like a neon sign: Calling all zombies! But still. I am so hungry. Jamie is hungry too, and that is why I ventured out into the middle of this God forsaken desert. He is waiting for me in a dark cave, far away from any thing. I feel so helpless in this world, all of the duties of the mother and none of the knowledge to go with them. And Jamie is as hungry as I am. There are no other houses nearby, and I haven't heard so much as a dog bark. Although even they have gotten wiser since the infestation started.
I ease up from my crouch, my calves screaming in protest, but keep hunched at the waist, trying to be smaller than the bush. The way up the wash is smooth sand, a pale pathway in the light of the stars. It is still dead silent in the night air. The door is cracked open slightly, and creaks when I open it. I resist the urge to retch as the heavy scent of decay reaches my nose. People died here.
I bypass the fridge, knowing that nothing would have kept. The pantry, however, is stocked. Poptarts, and crackers. Cookies, and canned soups, and peanut butter. I put all I can in my canvas bag and turn to leave. I pause for just a second beside the sink, an errant wish for cold water making me hesitate. And then a hand is on my ponytail and knife at my throat.
I panic and try to reach my gun. Obviously the thing that grabbed me is human, but the size of the hand says male. And so many men now are almost as untrustworthy as a damn corpse. I don't want to be used for some sick physical release.
He gasps and turns me around. I'm slightly shocked by it, and then again as I take in his appearance. He is maybe 25, and beautiful. I am tempted to stroke his square jaw line. Before I get a chance, he pulls me in, flush against his body in a hug.
You're alive, he murmurs into my ear. I thought I was alone. And then I reel back in surprise for the third time in thirty seconds when his lips press against mine. I enjoy it for just a second, before remembering that something worse will come after kissing. I jerk my knee up in a sharp thrust.
He chokes out a wheezing sound, and I'm free. Instead of running for the front of the house again like he expects, I duck under his arm. I think I can outrun him, even with my load. I've got a head start, and he's still making pained noises. I know where I'm going. I force myself to pump my legs faster and faster. My dad used to say I ran like a cheetah. I was the fastest on my track team, state champion, back before the end of the world. And then I am face planting in the foyer.
Wait. A. Minute. The man huffs. I have no idea how he caught me so quickly- I didn't even make it out of the house. I'm sorry I kissed you. That was stupid. I just… I've been alone for so long. I didn't mean anything bad by it. I won't hurt you. And I believe him.
I explain to him about Jamie, and suddenly I have a third member to my apocalypse survivor pack.
Please don't kick me, he pleads. And then his lips are on mine again, and I'm surrounded by warmth and safety. I wrap my arms around his neck, and as cheesy as it sounds, my foot pops into the air like a horrific 50's romance. And as I latch onto my newfound anchor in this hellhole, I kick a very human corpse that was lying unseen on the floor. The stench is smothering.
I scream.
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It beats caves, Jared says, the crease between his eyes deepening. He's worried I won't like it, and that makes me want to laugh. I tell him that it's perfect, that the rustic cabin was straight out of an old movie. He gives me a short tour, showing me the latrine and just as we head towards the house, Jamie bounces up. He is so buoyant now, Jared having lifted so much weight from those thin shoulders. His resilience is hidden behind happiness, and I am thankful. Jared explains how this cabin was built, before the world ended, and I brush my hand against his, wondering how he could have lost so much (father, mother, brothers) and still be so uplifting. Almost optimistic, but not quite. My skin burns where I touched him, and I ache to gather him in my arms. I resist, even as his beautiful crinkles into a smile that sets my world on fire. I laugh because I realize he has been asking me what was on my mind, repeating my name several times over.
Home is beautiful. And you are my home…. But I do not dare say this out loud.
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I shut the bedroom door quietly behind me, taking one last glance at Jamie, his lanky body sprawled out on a real bed for the first time in months. I can't believe what I am about to do. I never would have dared to, had I not been born into this life. But this life, as destructive and horrific as it is, has given me an endless pool of strength to draw from. Even in non life-threatening situations like this one. I go to where Jared is sitting on the couch and blurt out what I am thinking. How we should share the real bed, that Jamie could have the couch, and then somehow I am telling him I love him.
His eyes are burning. I don't have much experience in reading emotions like this, but I think it is desire. I whisper into his ear, and then I am burning again, his mouth on mine, and then traveling down my neck. I hear a strange keening, and realize it is me. There isn't enough air to breathe between us, but I can't pull away. He is the one who does. I didn't prepare for a… well that is… I don't want to see a child brought into this world. And I wasn't expecting guests when I stocked this place. For some reason, this veiled reference makes me blush. I pull myself away from him. Somehow my limbs became entangled with his, and I realize I was pressed against him in a very intimate way. And I'm proud of it, because I love him and he loves me and that's all that matters.
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Argh, Jamie and Jared groan together, collapsing on a nicely worn leather couch. We are on a supply run, but this far, out-of-the-way country ranch is nowhere near civilization, and after a quick look around we feel confident enough to relax here for a few hours before continuing. The jeep has already been stocked with enough food and other necessities to last for months. Jared begs me to come and lay with them, calling my attention to the fact that I am standing next to the door out of habit. I shake it off and flop down into Jared's lap, laying my feet across Jamie.
I look up at Jared, reveling in the happiness on his face and the feeling of safety he brings. And like the first time we met, I am tempted to stroke his jaw. This time I don't resist. His strong jaw line is stubbled with a light beard, and I love the feeling of it against my hand. My mind wanders to the gutter, and I wonder what that stubble would feel like pressed against a more intimate part of myself. I shudder at the idea and then blush when Jared looks at me questioningly.
Cold? He whispers into my ear, tickling my cheek with his cool breath. I don't respond, but instead snuggle closer to his chest, pressing a kiss to it. My gaze shifts to Jamie, but he is already asleep. I guess growing up is exhausting. Jared wraps his arms around me and we lay like this for hours. Basking in the simplicity of love and family.
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We're back from our supply run. It took an hour to unpack the jeep, and a moment that could have turned very embarrassing, but now Jared and I are cuddled in the bedroom together. My face is bright red and Jared won't stop teasing me over it.
I can't believe you told your brother you were hiding a box of tampons under your sweatshirt, he chortled. My face flushes again and I shove him playfully.
Would you rather I explain to my brother that we got a box of condoms?! He's 11, and I'd like to think he doesn't know what those are thank you very much, I mutter as a retort. Jared chuckles again, and rather than risk a new attack, I crash my lips against his instead. His laughter stops and instead he leaves a trail of kisses down my neck, nipping gently at my pulse point. I bite back a moan, and concentrate instead on getting that damn shirt off of him. I fumble over the buttons, which now seem to be the product of rocket science. He doesn't bother asking me if I'm sure: you can't live through this and be uncertain.
He tries to be gentle, and I sense it. The pain is sharp at first, but fades quickly. Eventually, there is only pleasure. And after he finishes, there is even more pleasure as I come to learn that the brush of his stubble against my core bring a shiver of desire to his ministrations. When my world erupts into a bright flash of burning and (as stereotypical as it sounds) fireworks, we fall asleep in each other's arms.
I later remember to be thankful that Jamie is a deep sleeper.
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Jamie is late. He wandered into the canyon to explore, and sunset has come and gone. He knows not to be out past dark, but he still isn't home. And so I am going to look for him. Jared, of course, is coming with me.
The canyon, as beautiful as it is during the day, is frightening at night. Dark shadows are thrown by jagged rocks, and I keep mistaking creosote shuddering in the wind as a human figure. We can't call out for Jamie, I know, but it's so hard to be so quiet when all I want to do is scream at the top of my lungs. I am so worried.
Finally, one of the shadows waving at me is clearly human. I exhale in relief and jog towards it. It isn't Jamie.
There is so much blood. On the canyon floor, and on the zombie. Its snarls are quieted by the wet sound of flesh between its teeth. The sound makes me want to hurl, a combination of a wet slurp and a sharp tear of what is distinctly meat. The zombie didn't notice me, not until I was dismembering it. My vision goes black, but when I come back to awareness, I am covered by the black blood and a thickened scent of decay. The zombie is dead and I kneel next to its victim.
The soft whimpers and yelps of the matted dog break my heart, even as I feel a guilty relief that it isn't Jamie. The scrawny animal seems to plead with its eyes, begging for relief. I raise my knife, even as I cringe at the thought. I always loved dogs.
Jared stops me and I am thankful. I go to find Jamie, and he deals with the broken and matted animal. What a lonely place to die… the bottom of a canyon. I feel a strange empathy for the poor beast, destined to be another meal for the undead.
I find Jamie soon after. He had gotten distracted by some interesting rock formations and had gotten turned around by the sudden realization that the sun was gone. We return home.
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I shiver in my jacket, straining my eyes to watch the last seconds of the sunrise. I try and convince my mind that it isn't that cold, that I am simply unused to this biting chill. The desert warmth did not prepare for this cool autumn air.
Then Jared is there, and I know this will be our big goodbye. I am going into the city, practically signing my own death warrant, because of the note I found in my old play space. I know it is from Sharon, a desperate attempt to locate me. And so I am going to her bunker. I can't ignore the possibility of my best friend from childhood, my dearest cousin, being out there waiting for me.
Jared understands and no longer tries to dissuade me. He came out here to show me that he loves me, both of us thinking that perhaps this is our last chance. He calls me a dryad, a wild creature of the forest and I look at him, silently daring him to test my wildness. Despite the cool air, I do not mind that he sheds my jacket, and then my shirt.
My back scratches against the rough bark, almost painfully but I do not care because this is Jared and I need him. I claw my own nails on his bare back as if trying to mirror my own. Where we normally make love, slow and staring into each others eyes, drinking in each moment, this is animalistic almost. The last of the sunlight fades as I cry out in pleasure, and in pain. I may never see my love again. The future is so uncertain, but I relish these last moments of living.
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I'm doomed. The sun set hours ago, and it's dark enough in this building that I can't see my hand in front of me, let alone the floor beneath my feet. I keep running anyways, because I don't have enough bullets to take down all of my pursuers.
It's fucking freezing here. It shouldn't matter (I mean the apocalypse already set in, why should a few degrees bother me?) but it is the one concrete feeling I latch on to. I pretend the cold is chasing me, not mindless creatures that were once somebody's mother, son, friend. I can escape the cold, even if these things are somehow inching closer. My footsteps are so loud in this hallway, I hear them echo even over the clatter and snarls of my followers.
They're starving. I'm sure they haven't fed for days (not many meals to find nowadays) and its apparent in the feral whines and growls I here, only feet behind me. The darkness deepens ahead of me, and my body cries out for me to stop, alerting me to danger ahead. I guess it never caught on that the real danger were the things following me. A feeble stream of moonlight filters in through a dust covered, broken window and I see not the dead end I fear but a black hole.
An elevator shaft. Abandoned, empty, and condemned, like this building. Once a hiding place, now a tomb. And it is my only chance of winning. I laugh out loud in relief, because I know I am fast enough. I take my last three steps in a giant leap, pleased at least to know I won't be killing those I love- Jamie, Jared- and feel the oddly pleasant feeling of being suspended before gravity takes over.
That's when I realize that they were closer than I thought. I expected to fall. Maybe to feel scrabbling hands brush me. But instead a surpisingly strong hand grabbed my wrist and all I know is pain. Not the release of death at the bottom of a shaft, but bites. Chunks of my flesh were being torn from me. From my hands, from my stomach. And I cry out because I have failed.
Not fast enough, I whisper to myself.
When will the pain end? When…?
All is suddenly still and silent as I feel myself fade away from consciousness. I hope I never wake up.
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Of course, I never have been that lucky. I did wake up, and this time as a monster. I felt myself only as a whisper in the back of my head, completely helpless to stop the other presence from directing my body in search of more. More of what? You're smart. I'm sure you can figure it out. Now I wander, and use my memories, as bleak as they may seem to somebody who remains innocent, as a beautiful escape. It's so hard to block out what is happening, but I've gotten very good at ignoring the pitiful sight of mangled animals, half consumed. My only hope it that when I do stumble upon a human is that they are merciful enough to kill me. Perhaps then I may find enough peace to begin my wait. I think it will be a very long wait, but eventually I know I will find Jamie and Jared. It's the last thing I have to hold on to, my final daydream.