Clip 2 – So Happy Together (Or Not)

The beeping from our backpacks provides a nice counterpoint to the thump of our feet on the ground. It's easy to find my stride, and Eight isn't rasping as badly as she was back in the compound. She reaches up to her headset. "Okay, Abel Township? We're clear. Nice, steady pace. About ten of the zoms on our tail. It's all going well. How're you guys holding up?"

Oh, what, so Phlegmy here gets a working headset and I'm stuck bareheaded? Not that I'm particularly fond of chitchat, but it's the principle of the matter. Granted, I know that with this many runners out at one time

Then again, I don't know that I want Eight's mic anywhere near my mouth.

There's a crackle of static, and then Sam comes through. "Yyyyeah… not so well here, Runner 8. We kinda… uh… the motors are shot, they're telling me. Looks like something got in there and chewed it up." Apparently zombies aren't enough; we've got rats too now, or something along those lines. I don't really want to think about what else might have been chewing at our tech.

And Eight is over here hacking up a lung again. She claims it's a bad chest cold, but the thing is, I haven't heard so many who were in the throes of the Grey Plague that I can tell the difference between that and something less, well, horrifyingly fatal. And for the record, Eight?

I'm not your buddy.

Sam (bless his heart) doesn't flat-out ask us to stay here and continue playing tag with the zombies, but he does pretty much let us know that they're not done yet. Fortunately I still feel spry enough to stay away from Eight's spittle and, if needed, to outpace her if the horde starts getting a little too close. Like I said: not your buddy.

"That cough… yer okay, aren't ya, runner 8?" Seriously, he has this whole nervous-grandmother thing going on. It's sort of amusing when you're not the one under scrutiny.

"It's just a COUGH," she protests. She apparently hasn't learned that it's just best to roll your eyes and wait it out.

I can hear Sam's sigh through Eight's headset – she's got the headphone on my side flipped so it faces out. "Yeah, we just have to be careful, that's all. You know the drill – first a cough, then a rattle, then a moan – "

Eight cuts him off, finishing the cheerful little jingle. "That's how y'know the dead are walking. It's just a COUGH, Sam." She looks at me and rolls her eyes, and I almost smile but I remind myself that we are not buddiesand the impulse passes without incident. "He's always fussing about something," she grumbles, as if a hacking, deep-chested cough that won't go away is nothing. And then, as though to make her point, she goes into a fit of coughing so bad it slows her down for a few steps.

She sees me eyeing her suspiciously, and she smirks back at me. "Hey, Sam! If it bothers you so much, I'm turning off this transmitter. That way you won't have to hear my coughing."

I feel my eyes widen and hear the click of the switch, followed by Sam's voice fading out: "Woah, no y'don't! That's not how … "

Eight turns her head my way, and her grin is so smug I want to punch her even more than I did earlier. "That's better. Now, it's just you – and me."

Thanks, Eight. I feel so much better.