"It's Wednesday, Wednesday. Killin' Infected on Wednesda-ay." I sung happily to the tune of Rebecca Black's Friday.
"Gotta' do it, if we are gonna sur-vive, sur-vive. They're zombie imposters."
"Yrawr!" A high-pitched growl came from behind me, perfectly in time with the trademark "Yeah!"'s of the song.
"We are their masters."
"Yrawr!"
"Walk, walk, walk, walk, this town i-is really empty-yeah..." I faded off, applauding. "Very good Didi, here's a biscuit."
I produced a dog treat from a zipped pocket on the side of my pants. The small, female Infected latched onto my back took it eagerly, devouring the delicacy in a few quick munches. She growled softly, in what I've come to know as her purr, and rubbed her head against mine.
"No, no. You just had one and I'm running low. Let's see if we can find a pet store."
Se sniffed the air, then growled strongly.
"What is it? Smell something girl?"
We walked along the barren streets, Didi's clawed hand pointing me where to go. I began to hear screaming shortly after.
"Survivors? Come on, let's go!"
I dashed down the alleys, heading toward the commotion. Soon, I could make out words.
"Somebody? Somebody help me!"
It was a woman, alone, by the sound of it. I rounded a corner, finding her pinned against a wall with a Standard Infected advancing toward her. I pulled my crowbar out of its binding on my pant leg and in one swift motion clean knocked its head off, body crumpling onto the ground. The woman screamed.
"What?" I spun around, glancing in all directions.
"You have a Witch on your back!"
"Hey," I used my left hand to cup Didi's cheek. "No need to call her names, that's just rude." The woman looked at me like I was insane. Probably am... slightly.
"Sh-She's not going to attack?"
"Not unless you do... or I order her to." I turned around and began walking out of the alley, slipping the crowbar back in its loop.
"Hey, hey wait up!" The woman, older than I, ran to catch up to us, keeping her distance from Didi.
"Hey, know if there's a pet store around here?" I asked her.
"Around the corner."
"Cool, meet ya there." I ran off to it, much to the disapproval of the woman.
The store was closed and relatively untouched. True, there's not much survival that can be achieved with squeaky toys and cat food. Door was barred, so my best bet was just destroying the front window. I removed my crowbar again. The woman rounded the corner as I did.
"And this is why I use a crowbar as tool-of-choice."
A quick blow shattered the glass, but also set off the alarm, making Didi scream and leave my back. I carefully stepped over the wreckage, locating the security box. The tool I carried easily busted the padlock off, and another strike to the innards of the mechanism shut off the painful, and down-right annoying noise.
Didi had made herself busy by attempting to locate her prize. She growled when finding them to be on a shelf more than twice her arm-length high.
"So um... what's the deal with the Wi-" I glared at the woman. "Uh..."
"Didi. Her name is Didi."
"O... kay. What's the story with her?"
"Her? Nicest Infected you'll ever meet who has a everlasting and unfulfilled craving for dog biscuits." Didi growled, louder this time. "Alright, I'm coming."
Walking over to her, I realized I'd have to climb the shelf myself in order to reach the treats.
"I rescued her from a Tank." I continued.
I placed my foot on the second shelf, testing it.
"A Tank? With how old you are, I'm surprised you didn't die. Um... How old are you?"
I gripped the cold metal and climbed a step.
"Fifteen, going on sixteen."
I stretched and grabbed a box. Didi squealed with joy.
"You're only fifteen?"
I jumped off the shelf, landing with a solid "thud".
"Yep. Hey, back off Didi. No, bad Didi! Bad! Ahh!"
My friendly-yet-lethal companion began to chase me. I jumped out of the window frame and onto the street, continually being followed and continually yelling. I climbed onto a telephone pole, using my free arm and legs to push myself up a few feet, just out of reach.
"You want me to help? I do have a fire-axe."
"No, no. She'd just kill you."
I tore the box open with my teeth and placed it in between my body and the pole. I grabbed a treat and tossed it down. Didi graciously received it. I climbed down and sat next to her.
"So... about the Tank."
"Ah, yes. The Tank. It was a few towns down the road, 'bout sixty miles South, by my guess. I was near a hotel under construction when I heard the roar of a Tank. Thinking there might be Survivors, I headed towards it. That's when I found the two of them locked in mortal combat. She was kind of losing, so I decided to help. Ran up behind the Tank and jumped on its back. I jabbed my crowbar in its face and managed to, if not blind, then painfully injure its eyes, which, of course, caused it to go Super Killey Rage Mode. Thrashed around a lot and managed to shake me, smack me with its giant hand, and send me sailing through a glass window. Pretty sure I passed out at that point, 'cause when I woke up, I found her cleaning my wounds. That was enjoyable for three reasons. One, it meant I'd made a friend. Two, it meant that I wasn't going to get some normal infection, because that would just be sad after everything I've been through. And three, was because in the Tank's blind fury, it'd collided with the scaffolding, sending about eight-and-a-half stories of wood and metal crashing down on it, effectively killing it. We've been walking ever since, which is roughly three weeks."
Throughout the explanation, I'd been casually tossing Didi biscuits.
"You said she 'cleaned your wounds', does that mean she-?"
"Got her saliva in direct contact with my bloodstream? Yes, yes she did."
I gave Didi a pet on the head, which she accepted with a purr.
"So, why aren't you Infected?"
"Well, the way I see it. If you didn't get sick when the Green Flu originally went airborne, you're a Carrier, and won't get sick no matter what. This is the most likely case, the second is that you have access to a working gasmask and have been wearing it constantly for the last month. The third is that you're some secret government project that's been in airtight rooms for the last few weeks. Saying as you don't have a gasmask and obviously don't have super-powers, you're a Carrier."
"Um... wow, okay. You've thought a lot about this."
"Yeah, surviving the apocalypse relatively alone will do that to ya."
Didi crawled onto my lap and nestled into my chest.
"What's your name?" The woman asked.
"Gordon. Gordon Clarke. Yours?"
"Linda Green."
"Where've you been staying, Linda? I mean, we might be the only living people in this entire town, so that means you were at least shut up somewhere."
I began to pet Didi.
"The old firehouse. It was right across the street from my house and seemed like the safest place."
"And this is your first time out of the building in a month? Must've been hard."
"Actually, the Flu only hit us a few days ago. I mean, people were getting sick before, but nobody turned into zomb-."
"Infected. They're called Infected, not zombies."
"O...kay. Infected, then."
"Yep. Now, is there a convenience store around here? I'm in the mood for some munchies... and the fact that all I've eaten in the last day is a half-rotten apple is making me tired, which is a bad thing out here."
"There's a gas station on the edge of town. It has a Quik-E mart."
"Ah, Quik-E marts. What would drunks, potheads, and college students do without you? Thinking about it, college students might encompass the first two categories. Hmm... Well anyway, on to the gas station!"
I jumped up, much to the discomfort of Didi, who accepted her fate and crawled onto my back.
"Why are you always like that? It's like you treat everything like a game..."
"Well, I could be depressed and scared, but I found out that you can deal with everything much better with a heavy dose of blind optimism."
The streets were empty, not even a car. People fled town pretty quickly, Linda explained to me. It was tough, she said, seeing all the people you know sick or leaving. The loneliness was hard to deal. for both of us, but we were alive... for now... and that's what mattered.