07 February 2010

Unknown time

After today's events, I'm beginning to rethink my position on returning to human society. At least, returning with my pack in tow. If every person thinks the way Private Carter did…

But again, allow me to start from the beginning.

We stayed in the empty store we usurped from that all-female pack for a few days since my last entry. Primarily, that pause was to give Lexi time to regain some of her strength. The virus has boosted the Infected's healing abilities by quite a bit, but even their bone structures take a while to mend. That said, however, I believe Lexi should be hunting again by the end of the month if those few days of rest were any indication; she can at least move without breathing hard and whining from the pain.

(And speaking of healing, I've begun to use my right hand again. Really, I'm only doing exercises with it and maybe performing a few small tasks—but at least I'm using it, and not just keeping it in a sling. It's still very weak, however, and I'm fairly sure that I'll be able to predict the weather with it as the cliché goes. In fact, I'd be surprised if it'll ever be fully usable again. Chris's teeth had pierced straight through my hand and tore the muscle, after all.)

When we moved on from the empty store, we turned west, toward the city limits and suburbia. We truly didn't have any trouble from other Infected; Caroline's presence essentially guaranteed our dominance, and so no one else wanted to challenge us. We had passed another Witch, but she had settled for the night, and didn't even notice our presence.

Earlier this afternoon, however, the twins halted in place and started growling rather ferociously. They both dropped to all fours in the snow—even Lexi, who was still injured. I half-expected their sweatshirts to be fluffed out or standing on end with the way they were behaving; they were putting on a full threat display, which meant they were intimidated by something. Behind me, I could feel Blake tensing up a little, and his left hand started twitching.

The twins started forward, stalking in the snow as if they were hunting. But they both stopped; they knew something was wrong. Blake's head was moving constantly, looking around the houses by which we were surrounded. Even Caroline's sobs were quieting into small growls, and she'd brought her claws from her face to look around.

I realized that their behavior was because the twins could smell another human being within the vicinity. A stranger they didn't recognize, that they didn't consider pack. Their instincts were telling them to kill, and they'd almost forgotten my leadership and listened to that instinct, even though I hadn't given them the command. They'd stopped themselves from going after the person without my help, and I would have been more impressed with that if I hadn't been more concerned with finding another survivor.

A gunshot rang out, and struck Lexi in her left shoulder. She shrieked, scrambling backwards, clutching at her wound with her good hand. I shouted as loudly as I could to cease fire and immediately went to treat her. I threw off my gloves and pulled out our only first aid kit and what little operating tools I'd been able to bring. I pulled off her sweatshirt despite her protests (at least she wasn't actively fighting me this time) and used snow to clean out the wound and hopefully stem the bloodflow. Then I got to work in extracting the bullet and stitching the wound closed. Her arm was already immobile, thankfully, so she wouldn't have any trouble letting it heal along with her bones.

There was a police cruiser near me, and I was aware of the radio crackling to life as I worked. I ignored it in favor of treating Lexi, but when I was done and she was sulking next to Caroline, I finally became conscious of the voice blaring through it. I froze when I recognized it; that voice was one I never thought I'd hear again. It was Private Trevor Carter—the man who had been the glue that held together the small band of survivors from my field lab. We had depended on him, and he came through for us. I rushed to the car and grabbed the receiver.

(I will try to transcribe the exchange as best as I can remember.)

"Trevor? Trevor Carter, is that you?" My voice was shaking, I think. I know I certainly was.

"Holy shit…Garnet? Dr. Garnet, you're still alive?"

"I'm still alive? What about you? I thought you'd been crushed by a Tank…I thought you were dead!"

"It'd take more than some damn Tank to down me—it almost did, but I played dead until it wandered off. Listen—what the hell were you doing to that Hunter thing?"

"What?" The question took me by surprise. I was elated to find Trevor again, to know that he was still alive, and that I wouldn't be the only human anymore. But there was a tone in his voice that I didn't comprehend at the time.

"I shot it and I was going to kill it if you didn't get in the way! What are you doing?"

"I was helping her, Trevor. She needed her wound treated."

"Helping a zombie, Garnet? Really? Shit, being alone so long must have gotten to your head."

My heart was starting to sink here as I realized that he might not share my enthusiasm for my pack. "All four of them are my companions, Trevor. The Hunters are twins, named Chris and Lexi. The Smoker is Blake and the Witch is Caroline."

"You named them?"

"No, those were their names before they were Infected. Chris still had his wallet with a picture of him and his sister; Blake has his ID badge. I had to look Caroline up, but she's the twins' younger sister and…"

"I can't believe this." He sounded angry. "You're actually treating them like they're people!"

"They're not. I know they're not. But they're animals, Trevor, and what was I before all this went down? Tell me what I was."

He hesitated. "A vet, but Garnet, they're not—"

"They're animals. They're intelligent, wild animals. I was alone and scared. There was nowhere I could go, Trevor. No one was coming back for me. But I know how to train animals. I took a chance to survive. And Trevor…I succeeded." I couldn't contain the excitement in my voice. "I caught Chris first, and then Lexi, and I trained them. I was forced to use shock collars because they can't respond to anything less, but I trained them. They follow my commands, they look to me as their leader—Trevor, they're my hunting dogs! Blake and Caroline just came with them, I suppose, probably because they were pack before…"

"Disgusting." Even over the radio I could hear the venom in Carter's voice. It stunned me. "Absolutely disgusting. You made zombies your pets."

"They're…they're not pets. They're too wild to be pets. We…we're pack. We're the Home Sector Pack. We're equal, all five of us."

"Equal—listen, Garnet. These things aren't human anymore. They're hideous, mindless zombies. They're out to kill us all, those who ain't Infected. The human race is almost wiped out because of these freaks, and you're fucking taming them like they're dogs or some shit."

"They aren't mindless! Yes, the virus ravaged their brains and their bodies, but they're intelligent. They're wolves and tigers and hyenas, Trevor! The killing instincts can be defeated—we can live beside them!"

There was a long silence, then: "I don't know you anymore. Get the hell out of here before I start mistaking you for one of them."

And then another shot rang out, and I heard the bullet pierce the top of the cruiser's roof. Startled, I dropped the radio receiver and threw myself to the ground. Carter fired again, this time at Chris's feet. He snarled, dancing away. I got back onto my feet, whistled for my pack to join me, and started running as fast as I could to the south.

I needed to get my pack away from this man on whom I'd once depended.

Carter shot at us for as long as he could see us. He never hit one of us (again), but he made sure we knew we weren't welcome. He even fired at me.

After running for some time, we finally found a shed that was, thankfully, both abandoned and mostly intact. I shooed the pack inside and shut the door behind us. After unharnassing myself from my sled, I fed the pack even from my own supply, to help reassure them, and tended to their needs. But when we were all full and the twins were wrestling (gingerly, with Lexi's injuries), I broke down in a corner to cry with my face buried in my hands.

I couldn't help myself. I felt as bad as Lexi was hurt. I felt betrayed. When I realized that Carter lived, I thought…I thought I might be saved from this hell. I wouldn't be alone anymore, I wouldn't need the pack, I could remain with Trevor and he could take me to human society. But then…then he started shooting at us—at me.

I wondered, as I cried alone, whether or not I'd done…well, perhaps not right, but if I'd actually accomplished something in capturing and training the twins. Carter had made a point: Every zombie had once been human, and they'd become zombies in the first place from the virus. I'm immune (and I hope not a carrier) but not everyone is. Living side by side wouldn't be possible if our species was extinguished by the creatures we sought to tame, even if those creatures did us no direct harm. So did taming Chris and Lexi, did forming the Home Sector Pack mean anything? Was there a point to this mad project of mine?

As I cried, I felt something large thump down beside me, and I could smell Blake's smoke-cloud (about the only portion of his scent I really notice anymore). When I looked up, his tongue moved to brush at a fresh tear that was starting down my cheek, before curling around me. He started tugging gently at me until I gave in and moved closer; that tugging only ceased when I was actually in his lap. Then he wrapped his arms around me and just held me. His single eye watched me, and I swear he was watching me with concern.

I don't think Blake knew why I was crying. I don't think he understood that I'd known the survivor that had been shooting at us. But he was trying to comfort me anyway, trying to make me feel better.

I buried my face into his bloody, ragged dress shirt as whatever dam I'd built inside finally broke free. All of my fears and frustrations from the past few months since the beginning of the outbreak came pouring out. I cried for several hours, and Blake just held me and tried to wheeze and cough out comforting noises to me. I could feel his right hand petting my hair softly as I sobbed enough to rival Caroline, and his tongue kept sliding up to wipe away my tears.

It was dark by the time I finally ran out of tears. But Blake was still there, still watching me, still petting me. I looked up at him again, and he gave me a gentle squeeze, managing to rasp at me in a questioning tone—he was asking me if I was all right now. I smiled at him, assured him that I was, and leaned up to give him a gentle kiss at the corners of his mouth—including directly on his tumor on his left side. His eye widened a little in surprise at my kisses, but he smiled as best as he could. His tongue withdrew from around me, but it moved up to brush across my lips in return, and he grumbled softly and affectionately.

At that point, Caroline made a soft, inquisitive sound. I looked up and I saw her glowing red eyes watching me curiously. I shifted my position until my back was pressed against Blake's chest, and my head was resting on his left shoulder, just below the massive tumor. Then I gestured for Caroline to join us, and she cuddled in against me. I draped my right arm around her shoulders, hugging her gently.

The twins joined us after several moments, too. Lexi moved in on my left side much as Caroline had, rubbing her head against my shoulder. I scratched her behind the ear and gave her a light peck on the head. Chris draped himself on both his sister's legs and mine, and his head rubbed at my leg just above my knee—just within my reach. I gave him a gentle scratch, too, and then both twins started purring softly. We stayed like that for a while until I finally extracted myself just long enough to retrieve this journal and start writing.

Yes, tame Chris and Lexi means something—to me. Yes, there was a point—to me—to this project. The point was my survival. Its meaning…

I came to at least two conclusions tonight. The first is that…I am in love with Blake. It is so strange, so awkward, to write that, especially about a zombie, but…he is nothing but my strong, silent supporter. His mind is just human enough, his brain still intact enough, that I occasionally have a glimpse of his true personality—and what I have seen, I have fallen in love with. Tonight merely affirmed what I'd known in my heart for a few weeks now.

The second is that there was a point to my project. The point was my survival. I wouldn't have stayed alive if I hadn't captured Chris and Lexi. But there is also meaning to it, and that meaning is that I am not alone. So long as I have my pack, so long as I have Blake, I am not alone. My Sommers will never abandon me, and Blake will never leave my side. I am not alone, nor will I ever be again.

But what will happen when we finally find society?

From the Desk of Dr. Garnet Merle, D.V.M.