The shriek brought the survivors immediately to their guard, all of them turning to the door with weapons raised, but the second shriek that came after, closer to the ground made them all pause and cast uneasy and confused glances at one another.

Bill reached out to close the door , keeping his weapon raised with one hand, and the sounds from outside became muffled.

Screaming, snarling and yelping came from outside, and after a few seconds a heavy weight crashed against the door, splintering the wood so that they could see what was happening outside.

A Hunter backed into their view through the splintered door, holding its arm lamely and growling with fury, its dark eyes fixed on a second Hunter that pounced into view. The two grappled for a moment, the lame one using the power of his legs to push the other into a roll where they fought for control. When the second threw the lame one off, they both rolled to their feet and crouched, beginning to circle.

Both of them were covered in blood, more of it washing onto the ground as they moved, the source of most of it a deep wound in the back of the second Hunter's calf. Their breath was heavy, chests heaving, but neither one looked ready to yield.

Francis raised his gun, but Bill gently put his hand on the barrel and lowered it again, shaking his head.

"Just wait. There's a good chance they'll finish one another off." He said quietly, not wanting his voice to disturb the creatures battling outside.

"What's gotten into them? I've never seen them fight like this before." Louis breathed from behind him, peering past Bill's elbow to see what was going on. Zoey was still and silent, her hands clutched, white-knuckled on her gun as she stared.

The lame Hunter was now letting out small whimpers along with the growls, its face torn open in addition to many of the other wounds the second had inflicted. As they circled one another once more, the second Hunter launched himself forward too fast to predict, flattening the lame Hunter to the ground and sinking his sharp teeth into its neck. The whimpers turned to yelps, then turned to wet, bubbling gasps until there was an audible crack of bone and it at last lay silent and limp on the ground.

The still living Hunter straightened slowly, arching his back and throwing his head back to howl his victory to the heavens before turning his eyes to the door where the Survivors stood. His terrible gaze swept over them, finally coming to rest on Zoey and softening into something more curious.

He didn't stay long enough after that to do much else, leaping away easily even with his leg ripped open the way it was. Francis poked his head out the door to see where the Hunter might have gone, Louis sat back with a sigh of relief, but Zoey couldn't take her eyes off the corpse of the Hunter, laying sprawled on the wet ground nearby. Its neck was a ruin of flesh and blood, and blood spread all around it in a gory pool… those dark eyes stared up at the sky, unseeing and unblinking.

Bill's hand on her shoulder brought her to her senses, but when she looked up at him, he leaned down to whisper close to her ear.

"Is it him?" The question held a note of concern… Zoey could tell Bill now understood completely what she had meant about this Hunter being different. When she shook her head, Bill nodded gently and pulled back, giving her shoulder a squeeze for comfort. "Then the other must be."

"… I'm scared." She hadn't meant for her voice to sound so tiny when she spoke, and hated that it did. She wasn't a damsel in distess… she wasn't a damsel in distress, so why did she feel so fucking helpless? "God, what is going on?"

Bill's words chilled her straight through, more than any rain could, even more than the cries of the infected could. He spoke frankly, he spoke simply, he only said two words, but they were powerful words that made her stomach turn.

"They're changing."

…

…

…

He managed to escape into a nearby empty building, finding a small room free of infected and collapsing into a heap in the middle of it. His clothing were torn to rags, he was exhausted, had the foul taste of infected blood in his mouth, and he was in more pain than he could ever remember being in before.

Making sure none of the other infected were looking, he curled in on himself and reached up to clutch his leg in both hands, letting out a stifled sound of agony. His clawed fingers probed into the wound, seeing how deeply it cut into his flesh, his heart beginning to pound when he realized how quickly he needed to seal it.

If he continued to lose blood like this, he was going to die. And if he died, he wouldn't be able to keep her safe.

Hissing furiously, he once more rolled to his feet and limped back out of the building, scaling a truck nearby to look around. There was a store he recalled, one that he had gone to before when his clothing needed patching or he had a wound that needed closing. There were better ways to seal a wound or fix a broken sweater, but there were no faster ways that he knew of that didn't involve fire or stealing new clothes.

Scurrying down the street as quickly as he could, he located the store he had remembered from before and began rifling through all the objects that were strewn on the ground. He was feeling a little light headed, but he figured that was from the blood loss and too much moving around while being in such great amounts of pain. The adhesive he had been searching for was plentiful here, and his sharp claws and teeth made quick work of the package surrounding it. He wrapped great strips of the thick, silvery-grey adhesive around his injured leg, knowing the irritation of his skin would promote scabbing and close the wound over fast enough that he wouldn't fall too far behind the humans.

He needed to heal as quickly as he could. There was too much to lose and he couldn't afford to let them get too far ahead, especially with two of their own being injured. He had to keep his brothers and sisters from trailing the scent of blood, the irregular rhythm of their breathing and their footsteps, and he had no doubt their judgement would be impaired by exhaustion at this point.

The adhesive made his leg stiff and effectively crippled him, so he hid himself in a small closet to rest and wait for the next day to continue tracking. There was no use wandering out there if he was in no shape to.

After all, to the infected, an injured Hunter was nothing but food. He knew they didn't have the same standards as he did when it came to devouring human or infected flesh. The lessers would take what they could get…

Pain kept him awake for some time, whimpering in the darkness and curled into a tiny ball, but soon he grew so exhausted that sleep couldn't keep him away any longer. His eyes fluttered closed and he drifted to restless sleep in the dark corner of his closet.

…

…

…

Author's note!:

Thanks to all of you for your beautiful and wonderful reviews. Thanks to all of you who have been devotedly watching the story too! I really appreciate the feed back and the attention, this is one of the better stories I'm working on right now and it's a lot of fun to write.

Sorry this part isn't too long, there will be more tomorrow and Sunday since I've got a couple of days off. We're getting to the good parts soon!

If anyone has any questions or comments to add, go right ahead. Also, it's come to my attention that I'm going to need to name my Hunter soon, so if you have any good ideas for that, I'll definitely see about using them!

Thanks!