REWRITE

FULL SUMMARY: Beggars can't be choosers, especially during the zombie apocalypse. Nevaeh has been on her own since the outbreak, fending for herself using the twin katanas carried on her back. Trust is not something she is ready to give in her situation. After stumbling across a wounded Hunter, her first instinct is to kill it and move on. However, this one seems different from the others. A wild card is put into play when she forms a very unlikely alliance with the infected, but with no small amount of hesitation. The two eventually run into the survivors during a horde attack. Nick is hardly ready to accept a Hunter into the group, but Ellis thinks it could work to their benefit. Although they are startled by the Hunter, they offer for Nevaeh to join their group. Ellis wants her to come to New Orleans with them, but she doesn't trust the military. She remains slightly detached from the others at first, unwilling to form close bonds during a time loved ones can be so easily taken away, but she's left someone else in the group completely smitten.

Chapter #1: Bear Trap

Her legs pumped rapidly beneath her, her deep breathing the only sound around her aside from the rustling of the trees and crunching of leaves and twigs beneath her feet as she ran. Beads of sweat trickled down her neck and between the valley of her breasts, heart hammering against her ribs from the exertion. The air was sticky and humid, but she did not stop running, having just narrowly escaped the wrath of a Tank. The second it was dead, she had taken off at a full sprint, fearing what the beast's roars and thunderous bellows had managed to attract. That had been over a mile back from where she was now, but she did not stop just yet. At the very least, she wanted a couple good miles between her and the disturbance before allowing herself rest. Along the way, she'd run into a few stragglers, but she was able to take them out silently using the twin katanas that were crossed behind her back.

At long last, she came across a thicket that could serve as a temporary hideaway until she recovered. Ducking beneath the branches, she dropped to her knees and attempted to catch her breath, sweat trickling down her skin in steady droplets. The air was thick and muggy, lacking a breeze that she so desperately desired to cool her overheated body. If it hadn't been for that hulking gorilla, she wouldn't even be in this situation.

Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the tree she was sitting behind and allowed her muscles to relax only for a moment, as a weary sigh escaped through her lips. She felt like she'd been in this forest for years, when in reality it had only been a few days. The trees never seemed to end, stretching far and wide, and when she looked up their thinning canopies seemed to stretch for miles. And the heat. God, the heat. Thankfully, the day was nearing a close, which meant the temperature would be going down soon, but she needed to find shelter. In the forest, it was nearly impossible to see at night with the trees blocking out most of the moonlight, so she would be in no shape to fight should a horde or, God forbid, another Tank decided to cross her path. Zombie fucking apocalypse. Shit like this was only supposed to happen in movies. Just months ago, she had been getting ready to graduate with her doctorate, and all of a sudden the streets had erupted into a chaotic tumult that left her hometown in ruins along with most of the people. If there were any survivors, she had no idea how many or where they were.

It had been an episode from the Walking Dead since then. She spent all her time either running from infected or fighting them off, and when she finally managed to find a safe house or some sort of alternative shelter, she had to focus on healing any wound she might have and resting up for her departure. Safe houses served as a brief haven from the hell lurking outside, but they were hardly permanent. All she could do was hope that she would one day come across other people or some sort of base camp where survivors had bunkered up, like in the movies. She hardly fancied the idea of continuing on like this as a permanent state of affairs.

Suddenly, she froze when she heard what sounded like a whimper of sorts. Sitting up in full alert, she poked her head out from the thicket and glanced around cautiously. There were no infected in sight. What had caused that sound? It almost sounded like someone was in pain.

"Hello?" she called out in a whisper. When she received no answer, she came to the conclusion that she could very well be dealing with a witch. She prayed not, and that it was just a wounded animal. Witches could be worse than tanks if not taken out properly and with the right weapon. She'd learned that one the hard way, the healing scars on her right hip proof of that.

With the caution of a doe entering an open field during hunting season, she crept out from the concealing branches of the thicket, crawling in a fashion that was much like a hunter. She had picked up these mannerisms from the hunting trips her father had taken her on when she was a teenager. She never liked hunting much. It was cruel in her opinion, but he had always used all of the animal. It wasn't like he had just chopped off the head, mounted it on his wall, and dumped the rest. Anyways, the stalking methods he had taught her had proved to help her a lot in her current situation, especially when dealing with the more cunning infected such as the hunters. She had studied each type of infected's behavior and weaknesses carefully, and she now knew how each of them moved, thought, and attacked.

Cautiously, she crept towards the sound of rustling leaves, having located where the noise was coming from. It was coming from behind a small cluster of boulders, and as she drew near the rustling stopped, and she was presented with a low, guttural growl. Her entire body froze. Without thinking twice, she instantly dove behind the boulders, pulling her desert eagle from her pocket and cocking it. If this was a hunter she was dealing with, she wasn't taking her chances. However, when the attack didn't come, she found herself frowning a slightest bit in confusion. It should have been on her by now.

She closed her eyes. This was a bad idea. Turning, she reached up and warily began to climb up the boulders, virtually silent as she made her way to the top. When she tentatively peered downwards at the other side, her eyebrows shot high on her forehead at what she saw. It was a hunter, all right, but it was clearly injured. Good. This would be an easy kill. Standing, she jumped down from the rocks, landing in front of the wounded infected. It gave a violent jump and high-pitched yelp, clearly startled by her sudden appearance.

Reaching back, she instantly whipped out her swords, wielding them in stance as she crept closer to the injured creature. Its wrists were tied with a thick cord, much to her curiosity. This was obviously another survivor's doing. As she drew near, she realized its leg was caught in a bear trap, and, judging by the torn pant leg and bleeding gashes that raked up its leg, she guessed it had put up one hell of a fight to free itself, but had been unable to due to its binds. The growls grew increasingly louder as she closed in, evidently warning her to keep her distance. It was like circling an injured animal. It was unbelievable to her, to think that this creature had once been a regular human guy. Now it looked more like a demon that had ascended straight from hell's pit, fingers tipped with razor sharp claws that dug at the earth in its desperate attempt to free itself. If the dark blue hoodie had been fur, she was sure its hackles would have been bristled.

She dared to take a step closer, but she was rewarded with a fierce snarl, and its free leg made a vicious swipe at her, teeth exposed in a sneer. She stepped back hastily when a piercing shriek nearly caused her to jump straight out of her skin. Once the hunter's screeches died down, she stood still as a statue, tensed and preparing herself for the worst. Seconds turned to minutes, every sense bright and alert for oncoming infected. To her great surprise and relief, the noise had only attracted a few straggling zombies that came stumbling onto the scene, which she was able to quietly take out with her katanas. The less gunfire the better. Once the last one had dropped, she turned her attentions back to the hunter, who still lay on the ground, leg still snagged in the cruel-looking device. The screech had been of pain. When it had tried attacking her, it had jostled the metal teeth in its flesh, which she imagined had been extremely painful.

Then suddenly, she paused as it hit her that it had actually hurt. Infected didn't feel pain. She had seen it herself—the way they just kept coming until the fatal blow was received, barely staggered by the bullets piercing their flesh. Yet this hunter appeared to be in evident amounts of distress.

Enough of this, Vaeh. Kill the damn thing and put it out of its misery before you have a horde on your hands. Adjusting her grip on her katanas, she looked down at the bloodied blades before back up towards the Hunter, who was staring at the weapons intently. It was strange—almost like it was aware of exactly what was going on. In truth, she felt a little bad for the beast. It was a harsh way to go out, impaled in the head like a pig in a slaughterhouse, but what was she supposed to do? There was nothing she could do. Its fate had been sealed the moment its leg had gotten caught in the trap. Hell, it had been sealed the moment the virus had entered its bloodstream.

He coiled defensively when she took a step closer, like a cobra preparing to strike, and he emitted a guttural growl, warning her to back off. Why couldn't she just leave him alone?! He wasn't bothering her. Hell, he couldn't even swipe at her without causing himself tremendous pain. The teeth of the bear trap dug deep into his leg, sending ripples of pain throbbing through his entire body with even the slightest of movement. He whimpered, scared despite the menacing growls he emitted at the woman before him. He wasn't stupid. He knew exactly what she was planning to do with those swords, and it terrified him. It wasn't until she shifted her grip on the handles that his intimidating guise began to falter, betraying his fear.

Nevaeh watched as the hunter tried moving away from her at the sight of her raising one of the swords. Although half its face was covered by the hood, she could tell it was frightened. Actually, it looked scared out of its mind. Odd. She had never witnessed an infected display any sort of emotion aside from an animalistic rage. She felt guilt twist in her gut, but she knew she had to go through with it. If anything, it was a mercy kill. Re-sheathing one of her swords, she gripped the one with both hands and lifted it for the downward strike, and she was responded to with a startled shriek as the hunter tried moving away from her, but to no avail.

No! He screamed mentally. I don't want to die! I don't want to die! LEAVE ME ALONE!

Just as she was going to make the downward swing and plummet the blade into the infected's skull, she suddenly stopped short when she heard what sounded like a pleading whimper escape its throat. It shrunk away from her, whimpering quietly, and she was shocked to see it had begun to tremble. If it hadn't looked pitiful before, it certainly did now. Sighing heavily, she lowered her weapon and stared down at the creature, at a loss. She was not used to seeing hunters afraid. It was a strange sight to behold. It was almost like it understood her…. This is ridiculous. You've officially gone insane….

"…Look at me."

It did, and she was wildly unprepared. Blinking, she stared at it openly.

"Can you understand me…?"

In a way too hesitant for infected nature, it lifted itself up the slighted bit with its arms, and made a feeble motion she guessed was a nod.

"Jax…" it croaked. The sound was grating and raspy, but it was definitely a word. A name perhaps?

She was flabbergasted. "Jax…? Is… is that your name?"

Another feeble nod.

"Incredible." Her eyes were wide. "You can understand English." Removing one of her hands from the katana, she motioned to herself. "Nevaeh. Can you say that?"

A frown pulled at the Hunter's face, and it—he—made a small sound in return, but made no effort to repeat her name. It seemed that one syllable was all he was capable of. Still, the fact he could understand her was a step beyond incredible.

"I won't kill you if that's what you want…" She watched his body visibly relax. "If you want it off, you're going to have to let me touch you," she said finally. God, what was she thinking? The second it was fre, it would probably try tearing her to shreds. Inhaling a calming breath through her nose, she took a slow step forwards once more.

He instantly tensed up again, and he released another low growl, but it wasn't nearly as menacing as his prior threats. The vocalization was one of nervousness. Like one would do to a startled horse, she held her hands up as a sign of peace.

"It's okay. Easy." She moved a little closer to the tense hunter, listening as he continued to growl low in his throat. "Come now, stop that. If I wanted you dead, I would have killed you already."

The growling died down a bit, but she could still hear him. Cautiously, she crouched down near his legs and examined the bear trap with close scrutiny. Bright red, normal blood seeped from the open wound. Its blood isn't coagulated. What on earth? The teeth hadn't cut into any vital arteries. He was lucky.

"How did you get yourself in this situation, anyway?" She looked at him, but she was met with blank stare. She sighed. "Right…" Gingerly, she touched his leg, and he instantly he flinched away. "Do you want it off or not?"

He emitted a pitiful whimper.

"I'll try to be gentle. Are you going to let me do this or not?"

He looked up at her in fear, but when he made no attempt to stop her she took it as her go to continue.

"You need to be quiet. Understand?"

He nodded meekly, and she released a breath to compose herself. Here goes nothing.

She applied pressure on the flat spring of the bear trap, and she was rewarded with a cry of pain from her patient when she jostled the metal teeth. When she looked up, she saw he had buried his face in his arm to stifle himself, entire body tensed so tight he was actually shaking a little. The trap's grip on his leg was tight, but eventually it fell open as she applied all her bodyweight on the springs. He instantly retracted his leg, and she kicked the nasty thing away with a look of disgust before returning her attention to his leg. It was bleeding steadily and needed to be bound. Her eyes shifted back up towards his face, half concealed by the hood, but she could tell he was staring straight at her.

"May I see?" she asked, as calmly as she could.

He looked nothing short of distrusting, but when she made a move to reach for his leg, he didn't lash out or growl at her. Shrugging off her backpack, she unzipped the largest compartment and pulled out a med kit and hunting knife. He tensed visibly at the sight of the blade, but she held her hands up again in a calming gesture, and he hesitantly relaxed. Using the sharp edge of the blade, she lifted the end of the duct tape that was wrapped around the bottom half of his leg, and she began to unwind it. Once it was off, she was able to roll his pant leg up and expose his wounds. She made quick work of cleaning and binding his leg, using the knife afterwards to cut the gauze before taping it down. He had been whimpering and whining throughout the whole process, but there were no more high-pitched screeches. Once that was finished, she pulled his pant leg back down. Now all that remained was his hands, which were still bound by the cord.

He looked up at her as she came to kneel by his head. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the lock pick she always kept on her and grabbed his wrists. After some brief tinkering, the lock fell loose, and she unwrapped the cord from his wrists before taking a quick step back. He got up almost instantly, the movement sharp and quicker than she expected. He lifted his leg, as if to test out her handiwork, and his hand disappeared into his pocket. She quirked an eyebrow when he removed a roll of duct tape from the hoodie, watching as he replaced the tape she had removed. So human... Taking his distraction as an opportunity, she turned and began walking away. Sure, he wasn't attacking her now, but that could change at any moment.

A rustling caused her to stop short in her steps, before she whipped around sharply and aimed the desert eagle she kept at her hip. The hunter had begun to follow her on all fours, but he had froze the second he saw the gun aimed between his eyes.

"Shoo." She waved the gun at him in a gesture for him to turn away. "Go on, now."

He didn't move, tilting his head at her, much like a confused dog.

"Get!" She kicked some earth at him, and he hastily backed up, frowning deeply at her. "You're free, now go. Don't think I won't kill you if you get too close."

His frown deepened, and she turned away once more, ignoring the little voice telling her she was being harsh. Seemingly intelligent or not, he was still an infected, and not just any infected. He was a hunter. That was not something she wanted following her around at a close distance.

She paused suddenly. Again, she heard the crunching of twigs behind her, and, slowly, she looked over her shoulder.

He stopped once he saw she was looking at him and backed up a couple steps when she raised her gun once more. It was obvious she didn't want him following her, but he wanted to. She interested him, and so far she was the only person who hadn't tried killing him the second she saw him, unlike the men who had tied him down. They had seen him snagged in that bear trap, and they had laughed. They had laughed at him, taunting him with their weapons, not backing down no matter how much he screeched at them. One of them had managed to snag his wrists while the other shoved his head into the ground painfully. He shivered at the memory of their fingers digging cruelly into the wound on his leg, but his shrieks and screams had been muffled by the way the other shoved his face into the ground. This woman was different. She had clearly known releasing him was a bad idea, but she had seen him. She'd been able to see past the animalistic exterior and recognize he was afraid. Rather than killing him, she had taken a huge risk and freed him. Why? He'd probably never know. Despite the fact she'd saved him, she obviously didn't want him around. It had been a merciful favor. She had been able to tell he was different. That didn't mean she trusted or wanted him.

He was wildly unprepared when she suddenly fired at the ground by his feet. The deafening bang caused him to leap into the air in fright. The speed at which he had sprung off in the opposite direction could have rivaled a bullet, not having even fully processed what was happening.

Nevaeh watched the hunter tear off like a bottle rocket, feeling a bit guilty in spite of the fact she should have just killed him to begin with. Turning, she quickly took off in the opposite direction before he decided to round back and take vengeance. There was a safe house nearby. If she could make it there before nightfall, it would be all the better. Yet in the very back of her mind, she couldn't help but wonder if she had been right about chasing the Hunter off. He was the first infected she had run into that had expressed a single trace of intelligence, and she had sent him away. Oh well. It was too late to turn back now. There was no telling what that gunshot had attracted.

This is a rewrite of my story "Nevaeh". I wasn't liking the direction it was taking, so I decided to change and fix it early on. It was moving a little too fast for me.