The next time I opened my eyes, the sun had forced its way through the cracks between door and frame, blaring through the bars to light every corner in my temporary haven. Everything smelled fresh from the rain that night prior. Never before had I realized how much I enjoyed that scent. How amazing it is that something so small could bring such a wave of joy for one fleeting moment, because for a second, I was back at home, laying in bed with my window cracked on the morning after a storm, with a brother or my baby sister laying next to me after thunder drove them from their own beds. Off to my right, I noticed some movement, and was instantly drawn out of such pleasantry by a wonderful (and entirely warranted) flash of panic. That sure as hell wasn't my sibling over there, it was…
Oh, yeah. The Smoker my dumb ass had let in - right.
While it was encouraging to think he hadn't killed me in my sleep, the reality of the situation did little to soothe my nerves. He wasn't in his corner anymore. Oh, no, of course he wasn't. Now, he was on his knees not three feet away, reaching towards me, though he seemed to be really trying to keep his distance. His lanky body stayed in one place while his hand stretched my direction, that single eye narrowed in a determination that might have been adorable in literally anything else in the world. Without moving my head, I cast a glance to the floor, where his attention seemed centered.
Apparently he had taken it upon himself to raid the candy at some point last night. The empty bag lay discarded under his folded legs, but that wasn't his point of interest. A piece had rolled away during his raid, and now that he'd found it, he clearly wanted it back. The problem was, it had rolled near me, and no matter how badly he wanted it back, that was a boundary he wasn't willing to breach. He wanted the candy still, but I was a barrier holding him back. Lucky for me, he didn't seem it worth the effort to, uh…ELIMINATE said barrier and take his prize. Sti thanking my lucky stars for that one.
Slowly, I let my foot twitch to give him a warning that I was awake, and after a few seconds' pause to let him steel those wussy nerves of his, I stretched my arms out to the sides. He managed to refrain from freaking out, as I imagined he would, but he did jerk his arm back into his personal space, placing it in his lap. Heart pounding again, I smiled at him, and for a second, I had to wonder if he still grasped human body language, at least well enough to not interpret that smile as a snarl. He tipped his head to the side but nothing more. Fantastic.
"Good morning." Already it seemed…well, not NORMAL by any means but certainly less strange, to talk to him. He really did seem to like it, so maybe he was growing just as desperate for socialization as I was. Or, maybe he just enjoyed the noise. Besides, who else was I going to talk to - myself? Please. Even in a zombie apocalypse, conversations with yourself are rarely a good sign.
I picked up the stray Rolo, holding it in two fingers before me. The Smoker shifted, a little grunt sounding while that eye remained fixed on the treat. Or, rather, it jumped between the treat and me, but he didn't make a move for it. I gave it a minute, thinking he might get tired of waiting and just grab the damn thing, but nope. He stayed put. That wouldn't be a bad thing under different circumstances, but I was trying for something and he was messing it up. "If you want it, you gotta come here and get it."
He blinked, shifting again on his folded legs. The same hand reached towards me again, and he turned his palm up, like he had last night before I let him in.
"Nope." My fingers closed around the little candy, and I brought it to my chest, as some people tend to do when asking a dog for a trick. "Come here."
For a while, we sat there staring at one another, the only noise being his winded breaths. I don't know exactly how long it carried on, but just as I was ready to give up and toss it to him, I saw him inch forward.
And then a tiny bit more.
And more.
And a little bit more…when he paused again, he was just out of my reach. Expecting a frustrated scream, I bit my lip to brace for it. That seemed to be his normal response, when something didn't go his way, and in that little trailer, it echoed something fierce. To my surprise, though, the Infected moved a tad closer, kneeling at my side, still staring at me, and he held out his hand again.
Well…he did what I wanted him to, so I warily handed over his coveted Rolo. "There, see? I'm not so bad. You don't hurt me, I don't hurt you. That's how this works."
Then I got bad idea number…wait…I lost count…
See, I'm one of those people that likes to touch things. Animals, clothes at a store, tables as I walk by - it doesn't matter what it is. I like to touch things, and it has become a bit of a habit of mine. It has gotten me into a bit of trouble in the past, but yet, it's one that I obviously had not kicked yet, and even in the face of certain strangulation, I couldn't ward it off for long. The urge struck once more, and I absolutely had to act on it to sate my own curiosity. Really, I suppose I could chastise myself for that. On the other hand, though, I had already let this goddamn infected into my haven, which was the absolutely DUMBEST thing I could have done, so trying to touch him was better by comparison. Or, at least, I thought it was.
Keeping even the slightest motions slow and deliberate, I raised my hand and reached for his bulbous head. The Smoker caught on almost immediately that something was up, and he was certainly none-too-fond of my newest endeavor. He sat up straight, leaning back bit by bit to keep away, but he didn't run. Didn't scream, more importantly, but he didn't move from his chosen spot. That was a small improvement.
"Easy, EASY…it's okay…" I tried to soothe, somehow keeping my voice from shaking. He sat there quietly, leaning away without ever getting to his feet, to his credit and my shock, just watching. I couldn't help but wonder if maybe…maybe he was a little curious about me, too…?
When he could not lean back any farther, I took the opportunity. Again, slow and steady, I eased my hand toward the lumps on his head. Right away, my skin was under assault by those little spores constantly floating around his head, like little mosquitoes crashing into my wrist. He took a shuddering breath, that glassy eye gradually closing, and I finally brushed against him…only to instantly want to jerk away. I didn't. Somehow I kept my cool and continued, but God, let me tell you, I wanted to. Whatever I was expecting, it wasn't THAT.
The best way I can describe it is, Play Doh that had sat out for too long, where it's not quite hard yet but right on the verge of it. His skin was dry as a bone with that weird, doughy, FOAMY feel underneath. And that was the normal part. The bumps adorning his head - the one I touched, anyway - had more give than they should. I had assumed they were solid masses, but the one I felt seemed to be filled to the brim with liquid. I could only imagine what. Through all that, he slowly opened his eye again, watching me with all the suspicion of a stray dog being hand fed for the very first time in its life. Even so, he did not pull away, nor did he attack or push me away, which I took as unspoken permission to continue, letting my fingers brush a few loose hairs off his bumpy forehead.
My hand eventually slid down to his cheek (if you could call it that anymore), pausing just beside his mouth so I was more or less cupping his misshapen face. The Smoker growled low in his chest, though it quickly turned into a short, violent cough. Apparently he was only so tolerant. I was not about to push my luck, so I drew back, and released the breath I had not realized I'd been holding. Quite the act of bravery on both our parts, I thought. For that, he deserved another Rolo–
Suddenly he slammed both hands against the wall on either side of my head, trapping me between his outstretched arms while he moved to straddle my legs. Honestly, I think I was too scared at the time to even contemplate screaming, or fighting back, although in the latter case I knew I'd lose. Didn't matter how scared I was, that was just a fact floating around in the back of my mind. The Infected lowered his head so we were eye to eye, and I tried to glare back, which I found rather difficult when my body was trembling like a leaf in a hurricane. He then took a hand off the wall to lay against the side of my head, similar to what I had done to him not a moment prior. It…wasn't exactly gentle, by any means, but he didn't exactly smack me or anything either, so I guess that was a win in itself. I did wonder, though, if he remembered how human skin was supposed to feel. Could he remember, or did my skin feel as weird to him as he did to me? Was he just mimicking my actions, or was this the curiosity I had suspected? I couldn't tell, and I didn't have time to try and analyze things. Next thing I knew, he pressed his face against my neck, soft breathy sounds accompanying a rush of air that made it seem like he was sniffing at me. His leathery tongue bumped my chest, and the bare skin of my arm, and when it hit the latter, it wrapped around my bicep, just above the elbow…
Ick Ick Ick Ick Ick!
Think abrasive cow tongue. If you've never felt one, it's like a mild sandpaper lined with mucus, or thick, warm hair gel. Plus, it was sticky with blood and whatever else he might have picked up along the way. Iiiiiick!
In no position to really fight back or yell at him (I may have been stupid, but not THAT stupid), I held still for his inspection. He did for me, I could for him. An eye for an eye, and all that mess. As long as things remained civil and calm, there was no harm done, and really, he did not do much to me. There was that moment of extreme close, that nasty tongue around my arm, and eventually he was satisfied with whatever the hell he'd been attempting, or so he seemed as he sat back on his heels, his hand falling to my shoulder while he watched my silent panic, hacking and panting as he usually did. Even with such little space between us, there WAS space, and with it I felt a bit more confident. Barely enough to force myself to speak, but hey, any improvement is good improvement, right?
"Get off…" I croaked. He cocked his head, so I put one nervous hand on his belly and pushed. "Off…"
Either that got the message across or he was getting tired of just sitting there. One way or another, the Smoker shoved himself back, off my legs, and sat on the floor in front of me. No screams, no aggression. I dare say, he seemed to realize I had only a certain degree of tolerance, too.
The smell of those spores stuck with me. There is no way to describe it effectively….The only comparison I can think of offhand is a musty car seat in the summer. It is not terrible but not exactly pleasant. The worst part was feeling the little spores touching me and going up my nose. How the Smoker dealt with it, I will never understand. His constant coughing made sense now, though. Like standing in a dust cloud, with bugs.
"So…I guess we're acquainted now," I muttered lamely, not bothering to mask the sarcasm. I was still too freaked out to stand up and move away. That was, by far the closest I had ever been to an Infected, so, I just sat there, tasting blood from my lip where teeth had broken through skin. Not sure when that had been a thing, but apparently it was. Way to go, me.
The Smoker took a few deep breaths, sounding like he was sucking air through a straw. God, he was so noisy! Constantly! One thing was certain; I could not be too stealthy with him around. Perhaps, if I was lucky, I could use that to my advantage. It seemed like the common, garden-variety infected would leave any special infected alone for the most part. That was just my general observation. How true it was, I couldn't really say. I mean, there had to be a reason why this Smoker was so uneasy around…well, EVERYTHING. But, even so, if my observations proved true, having him in the trailer might keep the everyday zombies away. That'd be nice, honestly. I'd hate to return one day and find a bunch of those damn things hiding inside.
Although, with that thought in mind, I managed to shake myself out of my little terrified trance. I needed food, and the only way I was going to get more was to go out and find it. Steeling my nerves, I cleared my throat and pushed up the wall to my feet, all while he just watched my every move.. "I'm going to find some breakfast, since you decided to hog it all."
At that point, I realized that there was a, uh…
There was a band of saliva and who the hell knows what else wrapped around my arm still. I felt it every time I brushed against my shirt, and what's worse? It didn't seem to be rubbing off. Gross!
Keeping my back to the wall, I inched toward the door, and when I reached it, the bar helping to hold it shut outright refused to budge on my first attempt. Rusted and old, it made me worry that it fused to its latch, but eventually, I was able to ease that old door open to peer around the parking lot. Near the alley, just across the way, a few commons lingered about, shambling past one another or leaning on the walls of the buildings around them, but aside from that, it seemed the coast was clear.
"If I remember right, there's a grocery store down the road." There was more I wanted to add, but the thought that I was speaking to an infected struck, so the thought died long before it reached my lips. You never realize how much you'll miss human interaction until you don't have it, and while I had grown a bit more accustomed to talking at this smoker, it still wasn't the same. When any input he might have came in the form of a scream? Yeah, not the same, And I was painfully aware of that. Still, at that point, I was willing to talk to anyone or anything that would listen, and I'll tell you right onnow, he may not have been much for conversation, but he was damn good at listening.
Stepping outside, I made sure to keep myself pressed to the trailer's siding while I made my way to the back, peeking around a corner to check my bearings and what sort of mob I'd be wading through . To my delight, the coast was clear up to the main road, as far as I could tell. I couldn't see any further than that, but it was a decent start, I thought. Considering how busy that area normally was, I was willing to bet that the whole street would be teaming with Infected. No doubt everyone and their brother, in their panic to get out of this virus-ridden hellhole, took to the main drag, and who knows what sort of fate they may have found. Maybe some got away, though I was willing to bet that the majority of folks wound up stuck behind the lucky few and now shambled around as zombies.
Maybe I'd get lucky and most of them would be trapped in their cars. Probably not, but I could hope, right? Regardless, though, that was just the thing a solo, unarmed girl wants to find-
Well…maybe not entirely solo. Every step I took was accompanied by shuffling footsteps scuffing over the pavement, not too far behind. Turns out my assumption earlier was correct, and he was not just going to just let me leave. He, too, looked around the corner, garbling strange noises as he turned back to me. I didn't think that was a good sign, not with the look in his eye. Weird, how a flat, white eye can still…express. I could see something akin to concern in it, and I'm not going to lie, it freaked me out a little.
"Who invited you?" He stared. He had a tendency to do that. I simply shook my head. At the time, I thought I had better things to worry about than what was tagging along with me. Besides, I could test my theory, about how regular infected avoided the special ones. Maybe it wasn't the best way to go about it, but there I was. Go me.
I closed my eyes for a moment, muttering to a God that did not seem to like humanity anymore for protection. Doing so had gotten me this far, so I guessed it couldn't hurt. Then, it was time to put that prayer to the ultimate test.
All the scattered cars provided me with a little cover. I ran to one, waited a moment to listen for any unfamiliar footsteps, and then moved on to the next, and the next. I was confident I could make it to the store unseen that way, except I originally planned to go alone. I never truly thought that Smoker would be hovering over me the entire way. If he was shorter, it wouldn't be as big of a deal. He would be able to crouch and hide with me. But no, he stood at least a head over each of the cars. I did not think it mattered, though. The other Infected should leave him to his own devices.
At least, I hoped so.
But, I suppose that's a story for later. I'm tired now, and he seems annoyed with the lantern, so I guess I should turn in for the night.
