The Halfway Point
Chapter 2: Keith
"I know there was a safe house nearby that the Hunters always talk about," Chase scanned the streets below, "one of 'em said if I needed a place to stay that wasn't the roof, the survivors rarely found it, and they rarely got inside anyway. They never did tell me why exactly survivors never made it in but, eh, c'est la vie."
"We haven't left the roof yet Chase," Vivi sighed, "I have a feeling you like being up here with your wolfpack."
"I do, but there is only so much you can do on the rooftops of New York City with a bunch of growling things dressed for parkour who throw you into the nearest hiding spot anytime a Jockey decides to take a midnight climb."
Vivi snorted at that and looked down to the street.
"There are a lot of Smokers over there," Vivi pointed to a group of long-tongued infected swarming around a particular spot, "are they…fighting with a Jockey?"
"And a horde of commons to ice the cake," Chase nodded, "Smokers are territorial right?"
"Yeah," Vivi stood, "why?"
"They're roof-dwellers," Chase jumped up on the edge of the roof then hung off the side, "if they're fighting on street level and there's more than one, something the Jockey wants is in their territory, and they aren't handing it over." Vivi craned her neck to see through the Smokers.
"Injured Smoker," she murmured, "didn't know Smokers were like that." Chase narrowed his eyes and climbed back onto the ledge.
"They're not."
"Then how do you explain them defending one of their own?" Vivi asked.
"A lot of roof-dwellers have good reason to go down to the street level but that is not something a Smoker would do," Chase replied. He jumped up onto the stairwell and let out a piercing scream. The scream was replied to with a series of resounding screams and a chorus of growls and snarls that Chase joined into. When the air went silent, Chase turned to Vivi.
"That Smoker's a recent addition," Chase jumped down, "there's a Hunter a few roofs over who can see the whole thing going down, and this isn't isolated, the Smokers created a barrier all the way down to Central Park, they're angry, they're being defensive, and there's no explanation."
"So your wolfpack is just as confused," Vivi smirked.
"The one near the new Smoker?" Chase pointed to a Smoker with its back turned, "It's holding the new Smoker, but not strangling it, and it's ready to move at any time. This is a combined effort."
"And Smokers don't usually do this?" Vivi asked.
"No," Chase dug through the masses of survivor and infected corpses and retrieved a shotgun and a tattered backpack, "that's a partial infected by my guess, they're protecting the anomaly of themselves. Frankly I wouldn't mess with a Jockey either way, but maybe that's just me." A snarl sounded from behind the stairwell, Vivi froze.
"Okay, yeah, sorry," Chase motioned for Vivi to calm down, "addendum, most Hunters do not mess with Witches, even if they aren't completely infected. I think you know why most infected avoid Witches like the plague."
"I really don't," Vivi shrugged.
"You need to bitch slap a Tank or something," Chase rolled his eyes, "how long have you been infected?"
"A week."
"I'd like to submit a formal thank you to the wolfpack," Chase yelled to the Hunter behind the stairwell, which growled lightly, like it was purring.
"Please say that was a happy Hunter growl," Vivi backed away from the stairwell, "I really don't want to be pounced on."
"It was saying you're welcome," Chase shot Vivi an exasperated look, "didn't I just say Hunters don't mess with Witches? That's literally one hit and you're dead."
"Then why do common attack me?"
"Because common are stupid Vivi."
"Don't call me that."
"Viviane takes too long to say."
Vivi bared her teeth before another scream filled the air. Chase turned and looked down the street.
"How good are you at fighting?" he asked, seeing a Tank barreling down the street at the Smoker barricade.
"Why?" Vivi looked down the street from behind Chase, "oh." Chase nodded and rifled around the pile of crates nearby, pulling out a baseball bat after a few seconds.
"I'll try to get on its back and slow it down if you can get down there and keep from getting eaten long enough to knock its stupid undersized head off…is that a person?"
"That's why a Tank is ready to kill something," Vivi hopped onto the fire escape, "gimme the baseball bat, this idiot's getting his ass saved." Chase tossed Vivi the baseball bat and watched the person run past before jumping onto the Tank as it passed. The tank roared in frustration and rammed its back into a wall, nearly crushing Chase between the mass of flesh and the bricks. The person slowed and turned back to Chase as Vivi passed him, using the baseball bat to decapitate any common that came within range to slam in the face. Chase dug his claws into the thick muscle on the Tank's shoulders and pulled it towards Vivi. Vivi swung the bat at the Tank's head and knocked it clean off, sending it flying off to another roof. Chase attempted to pull his claws out as the Tank collapsed and found they were stuck. The Tank's corpse hit the ground with a shaking thud and Chase began to struggle with the shoulder muscles holding him in place.
"Help!" he yelled, "claws got stuck in the behemoth's wall of flesh." Vivi rolled her eyes and helped Chase yank his claws out of the corpse's shoulders. That issue taken care of, Vivi took her bat and walked over to the Smoker barricade as Chase turned to the object of the Tank's fury, who had managed to take out what remained of the horde Vivi had mostly decimated with nothing more than a baseball bat. She'd gotten acclimated to her strength rather quickly, for never having used it before.
"Are you fucking stupid?" he asked, pointing to the Tank's body as he approached the survivor, "You know how fucking easy it is to get killed by one of those things?"
"Look I just walked past it," the survivor insisted, not convincing Chase.
"Yeah, throwing a rock?" Chase growled, "Do you know how much damage those things cause without you pissing it off?"
"Eh…it was actually a Molotov…" the survivor began, but Chase cut him off.
"That's even worse than a rock!"
"Okay I'm sorry!" the survivor shook his head, "Never thought I'd see the day where a Hunter scolds me on my life choices."
"You threw a Molotov at a Tank," Chase crossed his arms, "at this point you're just really lucky mixed with really fucking stupid."
"He did what?" Vivi asked, walking up with an infected beside her, "Logan, Chase. Chase, Logan. Logan, Imbecile." The infected snorted with laughter, letting out a small cloud of smoke.
"You got the partial infected?" Chase asked, "Where's the tongue?" Logan opened his mouth and stuck out his greyish tongue, which stretched out as he let it fall from his mouth. Chase nodded and Logan retracted his tongue.
"Hey my name ain't Imbecile!" the survivor yelled.
"No one cares," Vivi said, "and yes, the Smokers kind of retreated and I knocked the Jockey into the apartment building across the way. Pretty sure I also sliced a hole through it too."
"Can we rewind and catch me up?" the survivor asked.
"Go away Imbecile," Chase rolled his eyes.
"My name is Keith," the survivor spat, "and I ain't leavin'. Not until I know why three infected are talkin' like normal people." Vivi sighed and looked to Chase.
"Safe room first," Chase said firmly, "we'll talk about the talking infected later. Actually, can Logan even speak?"
"Yes," Logan said with a raspy voice, "the tongue doesn't really get in the way unless it's fully extended.
A scream sounded and something hit the back of Chase's head, hard. Chase turned around to find a stack of guns tied with rope at his feet. Chase looked up to a Hunter perched on the roof above.
"Thank you!" Chase called. The Hunter snorted in reply. Chase picked up the rope holding the guns and looked back up at the Hunter. The Hunter growled as soon as Chase opened his mouth to speak.
"What's he saying?" Vivi asked.
"He's been infected too long," Chase replied, "he can't understand anything but Hunter language. Imbecile?"
"Keith."
"I'm going to freak you out for a few seconds, you good?"
"What?"
Chase ignored Keith and let out a low, throaty growl. The Hunter replied and they went back and forth until the Hunter disappeared over the ledge and Chase turned back to the group.
"The safe room is in there," Chase pointed towards a building nearby, "We'll need to ward off a few commons to get in. That Hunter is getting us food and supplies because currently, I have nothing but a pack of beef jerky in my pocket and that Hunter knows where a Costco is nearby."
"How you got that out of six different variations of the same growl is astounding," Vivi rested the baseball bat on her shoulder.
"So, Imbecile," Chase turned to Keith, ignoring Vivi's comment.
"Keith."
"We can get you to an evacuation site if you can stop being an idiot and throwing Molotov cocktails at Tanks. Think you can do that?"
"Probably."
"Good," Chase pulled a pistol from the stack of guns and shot an oncoming common, "now let's get to that safe room and then figure out how knee deep in shit we are."
After much deliberation with a friend (as in I suggested it and we both thought it would be perfect), we decided that the fourth member of the group, whom I hadn't decided on yet, would be Keith, because I figured he'd still be alive and still be doing all his incredibly stupid things, even in this zombie apocalypse environment, and somehow surviving. So that's the end of that story. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed/favorited so far.
I'm out.
-The Jashinist