Day 3: Training/Understudy/Apprentice
Summary: Since waking up from a month-long state of unconsciousness, Chiaki tries adjusting to her current status as one of infected. At the same time, an incident causes Izuru to teach his current companion on how to defend herself not only from the attacking infected, but from hostile humans as well.
A/N: This is a an expansion of some sort to [Carnivore], my entry for Kamunami Week 2018's Day 7: Outcasts. Reading that before this one isn't really necessary, but it does provide a bit more context. With that said, the same warnings do apply here, so if you feel queasy about them, please proceed with caution.
Warning(s): contains blood and gore, monster deaths, offscreen minor character deaths, elements of body horror, referenced but not explicit cannibalism, and a few instances of swearing.
At least more than three days had since passed, but it still wasn't long enough for Chiaki to process it all.
All of it happened too quickly. One moment, people were going on about their lives, going off to work, attending school, spending some time either outdoors or indoors, and then the next thing those same people knew, the world changed.
Somehow, an outbreak occurred, releasing mutated zombie-like monsters into the outside world. And with their escape, they carried their virus. To those victims who were unlucky enough to have survived, they too had regressed to the same feral and horrifying infected state, perpetuating the cycle.
Like zombies in the games she played, these things were feral and mindless, only set on consuming flesh for survival. But whereas the common zombies were slow, lumbering deadweight, these zombie-like mutants bear more resemblance to the elite type: they have different abilities based on their attributes, can heal from their wounds, and most of all, they are opportunistic predators that will not hesitate to feed among their kind.
She'd played enough zombie apocalypse-themed survival horror games to have enough knowledge in case if it ever happens. But then, the same knowledge she has can't be fully applied in her situation.
Instead of being with the human survivors, Chiaki is among the infected, albeit with her sapience and memories still intact.
Izuru Kamukura, another sapient infected, was the cause of her change. The boy told her that it was a gambit on his part, a way to save her from near death. He answered a few of her questions regarding that topic, but she has one more question for him. It's something that she didn't take notice of until now.
A moment before either can step out of the warehouse, she turned to face him, in an attempt to grab his attention.
"Why did you save me?"
Silence.
Before it appeared as though he'd ignore this question as he did with a few she had, he replied, "Do not be mistaken. The motive I had for preserving your life is not because of any altruistic reason."
"Then what's your reason for doing it?"
"Simple curiosity. Those bitten by the simple infected regressed to the same state as their progenitors. As you know, I am a special case, capable of coherent thought and reason. If I transfer my blood, and thus my own unique strain of the virus, will the resulting infected retain their prior state? That is what I wish to know."
"You mean I'm just an experiment to you?" She asked, unknowingly clenching her fists.
"That would be inaccurate." He coolly replied, gaze setting down her. "You were an attempt, the first trial of my hypothesis. Your survival surprised me. There will be no further discussion of this topic. We have far more important matters to attend to. Understood?"
Rather reluctantly, she forced her negative emotions to pull back and complied, joining him on venturing outside.
When it came to outings like this, most of the time it's for scouting the area. There are several reasons for that: the first is to help her get familiarized with the changed world, the second is to keep check of the infected (most which are dogs) population for feeding, and the third is to watch for potential threats, such as unfamiliar infected or in the worst case, human survivors.
God, that way of thinking is going to turn her into a monster even more. It's one thing to lose her biological humanity, but losing her inherent humanity is something she'll do her damnest to avoid.
Aside from keeping close watch on the boy with her, for the most part she does her own thing. In her case, it's what human survivors would've done; that is, searching and gathering for resources that might be useful.
While she stepped down on a knee to search among the ruined home, she reevaluated her current, for the lack of a better word, companion. About Izuru as a person, if he's not being stoic, then he's kind of a stick in the mud and a jerk. It's true that she mostly stuck around with him to ensure her own survival, but so far he isn't that unbearably bad to be around with, his reason for reviving her aside.
Maybe it's because she hasn't seen other people in a while and it's her loneliness talking. That has to be it.
"Have you found what you needed?" His voice interjected, snapping her out of her momentarily distracted state.
Right, about that. When she found just a backpack and a semi-working radio, and more recently, a set of clean clothes yesterday, she didn't give up in gathering for more materials among the ruins of former homes. In her previous attempts right now, at best she only found debris and dust; at worst she found bloodied and torn items that can't even be used. As for Izuru, he allowed her to, to humor her in what he calls a fruitless endeavor.
With a defeated sigh, she shook her head.
"I thought so. If you're done searching for trivial items that are long gone, then you should get up."
Fully defeated, Chiaki got up and dusted off what remaining dust left on her skirt. As she trailed behind him in scouting the area for potential threats, there is one thought that stood out at the back of her mind.
She should think of more creative labels other than 'stick in the mud' and 'jerk'.
Aside from the scrambling of several mutant zombies, the pair's footsteps, faint as it may be, were the only noises that can be heard in these desolated ruins of a once busy street.
And then, one set of those footsteps came to a stop, followed by the other after a moment.
"What happened?" She asked, catching up to her fellow. Usually, the veteran infected doesn't suddenly stop, not unless if he had a good reason to.
Izuru glanced from one area in his vicinity to another, scanning their surroundings. "Do you sense anything out of the ordinary?"
Even when she's not completely sure what he meant by first, she too started to investigate her surroundings. "Aside from the usual, I don't think so." There's the sounds of a mutant zombie growling nearby, but she paid little mind to it since plenty of the feral ones get into scuffles with each other now and then-
*BANG!*
She jumped back and without warning, her companion grabbed her. His arms firmly and securely wrapped around her torso, and then he quickly dragged them both into hiding, ducking behind a dumpster large enough to conceal them both.
By the time she got released from his hold, she told him off, "What was that for-!"
He raised a finger, gesturing her to keep quiet.
The reason why became clear. Soon enough, both heard voices that were rather close to their hiding place.
"Ya think there's even anything valuable here?" A gruff-sounding one asked.
Chiaki's heart skipped a beat. There are people...humans here. What are they doing here? Are they refugees? What should she do? Should she keep quiet and keep hiding and pray that this group doesn't try to look this way?
She can't see what they look like but judging from the voice, that one must've been a man in his thirties.
"Nothing but a bunch of ugly buggers and nasty little shits." Another answered; a woman about the same age range.
"Damn, what bad luck. Can't believe we went from ambushing a bunch of survivors to this hellhole." Another man, this time sounding like he's in his twenties.
"We should get out of here soon. This place is a dump." The same woman earlier agreed.
"Before we get the hell outta this place, just let me take care of this thing first. Don't want this little shit to live and let it think it can maul us for revenge afterwards." A new voice joined in, this one sounding more nasal compared to the others. The rest of the group laughed at that cruel, taunting remark.
'These people aren't just survivors scavenging for materials.' Chiaki soon came to realize as she unwittingly eavesdropped on their conversation. Another gunshot. Another dying whimper. 'They're bandits.'
"Yeesh, that looks so fucking nasty, I almost feel bad for filling its head up with lead. Almost. Tell you what, it's kinda weird that for a shithole infested with these pests, only one was dumb enough to go after us." That's the last of the bandit group's voice she heard. The sounds of their heavy footsteps replaced it soon enough.
It felt long enough, hearing the bandits' departure at last.
After he made sure they were completely gone, Izuru got up in a sitting position. He noticed how visibly shaken the girl is, and so he offered to carry her back to their shelter; she didn't make any objections to it and silently allowed him to do so. On the way back, he told her in reassurance, "It's alright, they're gone now."
A part of her wished that'd be the case for a long time.
Those bandits weren't the last human encounter they've had in this place.
Merely a month later, during their daily area scouting, they narrowly avoided a direct face-to-face encounter with another group of humans in the alleyway; this time there were more members, at least five men and five women, compared to the last. The group hadn't spotted either of the two yet, due to the two infected keeping themselves hidden behind walls and out of their sight; Chiaki dreaded what might've happened were it not for Izuru's quick thinking and alertness.
From what's observed so far, the group's attire is clean-looking for a time in the apocalypse, which can strike as odd; all of them are wearing suits and a pair of shades as a form of uniform. Their weapons appeared to be custom handguns of some sort. While the bandits' dynamic was shaky at best, this group of people, however, they were coordinated.
The most scathing difference between the two is that while the bandits unknowingly stumbled upon this place and were quick to leave when they can't find any resources, this group of people, on the other hand, they deliberately went to this place, as if they have a purpose for doing so.
When they assumed a defensive stance, closely grouping themselves together, that's when she realized that these people aren't simple ne'er-do-well's. They're professionals.
"Remember: our assignment is to clear this area of growlers as best as we can." One of them, presumably the leader, reminded their team. "Do you all understand?"
"Yes, sir!" The rest chorused.
That confirmed the worst had come. "We need to get out of here." She unknowingly whispered.
"We will." He looked over his shoulder on the right, retaining his focus on the group of humans nearby. "However, I do not know if we can do so without a confrontation." A lock of his hair formed into a sharpened arrowhead. The sight made its threat clear enough.
"Izuru, you're not going to kill them." Her pink eyes challengingly stared back at his red ones, their speaker restraining herself from shouting at him.
His red eyes narrowed back, the makeshift blade from his hair not relenting. "I don't see the reason why I shouldn't; it'll be the most efficient way to rid ourselves of them."
"Then wouldn't killing them put an even bigger target on our backs?" Chiaki shot back at him, for once surprising the boy with a compelling argument. "Look, these guys are obviously a part of a bigger group, maybe an organization even. If you killed them and the rest of their allies find out, then they'll do everything they can to try and find their killer. They won't stop until they do."
Izuru paused, thinking about that possibility. Killing these group of people, while it may be the most effective way to deal with them, may not be as beneficial in the long run, especially if he took what Chiaki said at face value.
Making his decision, the blade of hair shrank back to its normal, softer mass. "You have a point. Very well, I shall not make the first strike." That earned a sigh of relief from her. He then interjected, "However, if it doesn't go as planned, I won't make any promises."
The alleyway they've hid in for now has a dead end at the back; the only available exit isn't a viable option at the moment, due to the presence of those humans. He racked his mind, thinking of several solutions that may help them escape without attracting the human group's attention.
There is the option to simply wait for them to leave, as they'd done with their first encounter, but he quickly dismissed that idea. Waiting shall only make give those people a better chance to find him and his fellow infected. He surveyed the humans once again, and seeing they've made their move, charging several meters ahead a pack of canine-based infected. Sounds of growls and shots fired made it clear that the humans will be distracted long enough.
That's the pair's chance to escape. He grabbed a hold of her wrist. "Follow my lead." At her quick nod, he led her out of the alley. His steps were quick, precise and nimble as his companion's clumsier footsteps attempted to keep up. The path he chose as their exit is on the opposite side of where the humans are slaughtering the infected. Because even the weakest infected are considered a challenge to kill even when outnumbered, he assumed that a whole pack of them shall keep the human group distracted long enough.
"Wait, I think I saw a couple of survivors there."
Those ten words put them to a halt.
That's impossible. There's no way that these people were able to kill a whole pack of infected in such a short period of time. And yet, somehow these people managed to do so; because of that, perhaps a group member took notice of their escape attempt and then managed to catch up with them,.
"Um, if you excuse us, mister and miss?" The leader tentatively asked, referring to them. Neither of the two turned towards the group; both knew of the repercussions that'd place them in if they did so.
Seconds passed. No one of either side made a move.
"I have a bad feeling about this one." Someone among the human group said.
Because of the lack of a response, the group leader immediately assumed the worst; in a way, he'd be right. At the next moment, ten of those custom-made guns were pointed at the two. "Everyone, be careful; there's two of those things!"
These people have made their stand. With an annoyed "Tch.", Izuru faced the group, staring at the leader straight in the eye while his companion hesitantly glanced back at them. Suspicions the leader had were proven correct, and now the group murmured among themselves.
"There wasn't single roamer around this place until now."
"They still look human."
"Were they refugees recently infected, perhaps?"
"Damn it. We were too late, aren't we?"
The leader glanced at his weapon, then back at the two infected, solemnly looking at them. "Come on, we should put these two out of their misery before the condition gets worse for them."
Men and women alike prepared their index finger on the trigger. Several of the boy's locks, an amount equal to the number of the humans present, formed into sharp spikes in a threatening manner. Chiaki saw what's going on, and immediately knew of the gruesome results that would soon ensue.
Acting on instinct to prevent blood on both sides, she yelled, "No, please, we don't want to fight!"
The sudden display of coherent speech shocked the group of humans; taken aback at the display of communication. Many began to hesitate. Some were left wondering if the attempt was only a trick or a mimicry.
"Crap, it talked!" One of the men pulled the trigger on reflex.
...
...
...
The next thing she knew, she met with the hard ground.
Her left side...it's warm. Chiaki placed a hand on it. It hurts...It hurts so much.
She looked to her side, blood spilling freely at the wound. It stained her hand.
There's something about it that's...weird. Her blood...it...it felt...kinda different. Human blood...it isn't really human blood anymore...right?
...Izuru...what's he doing..?
Screaming...red spurting everywhere...
Everything went cold.
The first thing that greeted her when she returned to consciousness was the faint sensation of pain at her side. Softly groaning, she sat herself up from the cold cement she'd lied, her left hand feeling her side and then tearing off the makeshift bandage covering it; the skin she touched was smooth, like she'd never been injured at all.
"I've been...shot, right?" Chiaki half-asked, half-thought out loud. It came to her she's back inside the warehouse.
"You were; you've been unconscious for two days." Izuru replied, currently sitting on a crate by her side and has a large styrofoam box with him.
Memories came flooding back to her: she remembered, pleading to a group of humans that they didn't want to fight, getting shot by one of them in return, and then...she heard screams. Eyes widened in mortification, she looked away from him.
"You killed them all, didn't you? They were just doing their jobs. They didn't deserve any of that."
"The weapons they had were designed to kill us more efficiently; the bullets they've used disrupts the infected's natural regeneration and forces them to continuously bleed out. It's how they were able to slaughter a pack in short time: I disposed of their weapons after I came to the conclusion." He rationalized to her. "Those humans made their choice. Had I not made mine, you'd have perished."
Still refusing to make eye contact with him, she sighed. "I know that. Doesn't mean I have to like it."
The boy then removed the box's lid, and once again Chiaki was faced with the smell of flesh. Judging from the scent, it's most likely butchered from the mutated dogs. "You haven't eaten in the period of your unconsciousness. Eat and save your strength. You'll need it for training tomorrow. Within a week, we're leaving this area."
They weren't able to scout the area that day; the veteran let her rest inside their shelter for a whole day. Izuru hadn't left her side, not even to do the scouting himself. When she asked him why, he told her that he can't do it while she's resting, not if it will leave her open for the rest of their cannibalistic kin.
As said earlier, after a week passes, they'll leave. While he was able to clear evidence of the group's deaths and prevented them from leaking information to the rest of their organization, this area is no longer secure. With two groups of humans, one of which that were annihilated, having arrived to this district, it's only a matter of time before more of them show up. It's a risk that can't be taken.
When the next day came and he made sure she was well-rested enough, both arrived in the remains of a dump site. The area's space was big enough for training and it's isolated enough for many mutant zombies to leave it alone.
"I would have waited for another month before this, but certain events have forced me to do this earlier. It has come to my attention that even with your regenerative abilities, your lack of combat leaves you open for both humans and infected alike."
"But before we start the basics, I must know the full extent of your capabilities." Izuru lightly stepped back, presenting his right arm to her. "Can you try this?" The structure of his hand shifted. Rugged masses of crimson muscle enveloped his pale skin, transforming his hand into what is best described as a large makeshift gauntlet, albeit one made of tough and hardened skin.
If she'll guess its purpose, it's probably to increase defense as well as power and damage in punching and melee attacks. Nodding in understanding, Chiaki attempted to mimic it. Seconds passed, a minute passed, but nothing; she couldn't even feel her hand trying to shift. "Oh come on!" She slowly lost her patience and grunting in frustration, began to squeeze her hand to force it.
Izuru shifted his hand back to normal and then firmly stopped her before any further attempts escalate to choking her own hand. "That's enough. For reasons unknown, while you've inherited my regeneration, the same cannot be said for shapeshifting."
"Yeah, I can see that." She lightly huffed.
"Normally, that'll make you equal in strength among the simpler infected, placing you among the weakest. However, there is one crucial advantage you have over them."
"Really?" Well it looks like she's not as hopeless as she though. "What kind of advantage do I have?"
"This." He lightly tapped a finger on her head as if to state the obvious. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Her brow raised at the anti-climatic answer. "You're telling me I can use my head to strategize and plan attacks?"
"Exactly." He affirmed. "For today, we'll spar so that I may understand the extent of your capabilities. I won't use my abilities, so you may treat me as you would a human opponent. I'll hold myself back for the sake of this training. As for you," The veteran prepared himself in a more combat-suited stance. "Don't hold back."
Readying herself, she charged at him, aiming a punch at his shoulder. In the blink of an eye, he swiftly dodged that attack. She only lasted for roughly ten seconds until he managed to pin her down without much effort on his part. Gasping, she wriggled, helplessly trying to escape from his grasp.
The exercise was attempted a few more times; each time Chiaki lasted a millisecond after learning from her mistakes, but overall the results ended the same. The latest attempt ended with him pinning her back on the ground with his heel.
The girl signaled her yield. His foot was lifted off her back and after seeing him kneel to her level, she then saw a hand held out to her. Overall exhausted, she took it and was pulled back on her feet.
Placing her hands on her knees as she panted, she told him, "Remind me to never get in a serious fight with you."
For four days, they met up in the same dump site as a makeshift training ground. She learned quickly, having a bit of knowledge in strategies from some video games she played, and got better in hand-to-hand combat with him; he sparred with her either as a human opponent with a weapon, or as an infected. In addition to that, he gave her tips applicable to real combat as she attempted to land hits while he dodged them ("Posture is too stiff." "Attacking like that leaves your form open." "Everything is fair in a real fight, always remember that.").
At the same time, from her, he learned how to handle weapons, both real and improvised. Though he never saw the real use of doing so, nevertheless he absorbed knowledge like a sponge. She witnessed how he stabbed a mutant zombie clean-through with a pole in its stomach.
'Again, I'm glad he's kinda on my side.' She thought, briefly looking at the deceased thing with pity.
On the fourth day, Izuru ended up surprising her. Whether the surprise was of the good kind or the bad kind...well...
Chiaki can only stare at the growling monstrosity; she doesn't know if it's because of bewilderment or revulsion. The mutant zombie, another dog type, was a rather large specimen, reaching the height of her shoulders. For all the intimidation factor brought by the size alone, it also loses many of it due to a few factors. For one, the largest of its fangs and claws had been torn off. For two, its long tongue had also been torn off. For three, if she fails then the boy with her will intervene and kill it quickly.
Despite the obvious disadvantage this thing is at, this is still ridiculous. She glanced back over to Izuru, the boy currently standing several meters away; far enough to not disrupt the battle, but also close enough to intervene when necessary. "How am I supposed to kill that?" She swore she felt him shrug at that question.
"That's the point of this training." He glanced back towards her direction. "Remember what I've taught you."
The mutated dog charged, a paw raised to swipe at her. She managed to move out of the way in time, the paw then landing on the ground by her left as it crouched. Seeing an opening, she grabbed a nearby crowbar on the ground, and aimed for the thing's eye.
This fight, if it should even be called that, lasted for at least five minutes at best. It's not spectacular like a fight portrayed in a video game: It mostly consisted of the thing trying to swipe its stubby paws or bite with its uselessly fangless maw against its killer while said killer repeatedly bashed its body and head in with a makeshift weapon.
When the thing stopped twitching, finally lying dead on the ground, Izuru surveyed the carcass. The damages were, in order: a jab in the right eye, multiple beatings on the back and ribs, and the killing blow, a single strike on the head.
Izuru turned towards her, not batting an eye at the sight of Chiaki's hoodie stained with blood. "Even though the infected was crippled, you brought it down without my assistance. You did rather well for your first time."
"Really, I did?" She beamed. As uncomfortable the blood on her clothes were, it didn't spoil the praise she received.
"Don't get used to it. I may give more criticism next time. A cleaner kill is preferable, but for now, this will suffice." He gestured her to come along with him. "We'll be leaving by tomorrow morning. Do not forget that."