Animatus
Notes: Thanks for the reviews. Keep them coming.
Previously:
Faith reached forward with a trembling hand and plucked the note from her shirt. The paper was stiff from the blood that had dried on it. As she unfolded the note, a silver key fell to the floor with a clang. Faith ignored it, for the moment, and read aloud. "If you wake up, I've left this for you. I locked the door from the inside so that they could not get in. The key will open it. There's one bullet left in the gun. I suggest you use it."
Chapter One: The Walking Dead:
Faith jammed the key into the lock on the door. The doorknob shone brightly for a moment as the sunlight shining in from the window fell upon it, sparkling in Faith's eyes like diamonds shimmering in the sea. The sun had traveled in an arc through the sky and rapidly it tumbled down towards the horizon. Faith wondered if leaving the hospital room shortly before sunset was a wise choice, considering the myriad monsters that preferred dark to light and the questionable circumstances existing outside of her door, but she was eager to discover what had occurred to cause the hospital staff to abandon the building and their patients. Furthermore, a dull ache was spreading through her stomach. At first, she dismissed the feeling as a result of the trauma that had caused the scar to form across her abdomen, which she had discovered upon rubbing her belly fitfully as it tightened into an uncomfortable knot. Then she realized that she was starving. She began to wonder how long she had been asleep and how long her body had been forced to subside on fluid meals.
However, she was reluctant to open the door leading to the outside hallway of the hospital. She had the distinct feeling that once she opened that door, the world that she knew would disappear, and a new, horrific world would lay spread before her. Her stomach growled loudly, startling her out of her thoughts. Laughing embarrassedly at herself, she turned the key. She was the Slayer, after all, and fear held no power over her. The door unlocked with a satisfying click. Pulling the key out of the lock, she held it tightly, fearing to lose it in case she might have to lock herself in that room again, should the outside world prove more dangerous at night than she was imaging. She was certain that her imagination was besting her, but the Slayer in her warned her to be cautious.
Gripping the doorknob, she turned it gently. The door opened and, again, Faith was overwhelmed by the utter silence that greeted her. The fluorescent lights were dark in the hallway, but some sunlight filtered in through the windows. Stepping out into the hallway, Faith grimaced as her bare feet slapped down on the cold tile. The sound echoed down the hallway. She hesitated, waiting for a sign that something unnatural had heard her movement, but the hallway remained empty and still. She ventured out further, examining her surroundings closely. Her fears were confirmed as she determined that the hospital, in fact, was deserted. Wheelchairs, carts, and other medical apparatuses littered the hallway, thrown carelessly aside, or left abandoned. Upon further inspection, she noticed that dried blood had been smeared all over the walls and floors at various points in the corridor. However, she did not find any bodies during her walk down the hallway, which disturbed her more than the blood itself.
Finally, she reached a locker room. Pushing open the door, she slipped inside. The room was windowless and nearly pitch black without the aid of sunlight to illuminate it. Faith left the door propped open and allowed her eyes several moments to adjust to the change in light. When she could see well enough, she ventured further into the room. Some of the locker doors were hanging open and the floor in the corner of the room was coated in blood. She remembered when she first had opened her eyes; she had seen a red stain on the ceiling above her. She knew now that the stain was blood. The hospital seemed to be covered in it. Faith moved down the row of lockers until she reached an opened one containing a woman's clothes. The locker contained blue jeans, a white tank top, and a pair of black tennis shoes. The shirt fit Faith perfectly, while the jeans fit more snugly. The shoes were a half size too small, but she jammed her feet into them regardless.
Rooting through the pockets of the jeans, Faith found the previous owner's wallet shoved in the back pocket. She opened it and gazed at the woman's driver's license photograph. The woman had been twenty-six years old, in the prime of her life. Faith sighed, wondering what horrible fate had befallen her. Faith slipped the license in her back pocket, as a reminder of the nature of true evil, and continued searching through the wallet. She found fourteen dollars, which she also shoved into her pockets. Then she placed the wallet into the locker. The woman had also stored a small backpack in the locker, which Faith grabbed, and placed the gun and key into, before shutting the door. She threw the backpack straps around her shoulders, satisfied that she was ready to face the world outside, just as her grumbling stomach reminded her of her need to find sustenance.
Moving out of the locker room, she stepped back out into the hallway. The hospital's cafeteria was located on the first floor. As Faith walked down the corridor towards the staircase, she looked out of the window. She guessed that she was on the third floor, based on the height of the window from the ground. The sun was nearly parallel to her and starting to glow a fierce red. Faith quickened her pace, intrinsically knowing that she had to find food and shelter before sunset. Though the hospital seemed deserted, she did not trust that it would remain so after dark. She did not know for certain, but she believed that she had survived only because of the thoughtfulness of the nurse. The locked door had protected her, when everyone else, or so it seemed to Faith, had been viciously struck down.
She pulled open the door leading to the stairwell, again disheartened to find it quite dark. Fumbling her way towards the stairs, she traced the wall with her hand, carefully picking her way down the steps. Finally, she reached the first floor. She was starting to feel weak. When she reached the bottom of the staircase, a wave of dizziness washed over her. She stopped, gripping the wall and the handrail of the staircase to stop herself from toppling over. When her head cleared, she proceeded more slowly. Though she was a Slayer, and possessed Slayer strength, she did not know how long she had been in the hospital, nor what the extent of her injuries had been. They seemed to be taking a toll on her body, however.
The first floor appeared to be in the same state of desolation as the third floor. A buzz in the back of her mind warned her that though she seemed to be alone, danger was lurking everywhere. She just could not see it. Proceeding through another corridor, she reached the cafeteria. The tables and chairs had been thrown about the room, or else knocked aside, and the stench of old blood filled her nostrils. Under normal circumstances, she would have lost her appetite just from the smell, but she felt like she had not eaten in months. Cautiously, she stepped her way through the maze of discarded tables and chairs, and entered the kitchen. Her inspection of the refrigerators led her to believe that the hospital had indeed been abandoned for quite some time, as the food contained within was in various stages of rotting.
The pantries, however, contained many dry goods that Faith could still consume. After she had eaten her fill, she placed several cans of canned fruits and meats into her backpack. She was ready to find a place to stay for the night. As she walked out of the front doors of the hospital, the sun greeted her warmly. Faith closed her eyes briefly, tilting her face towards it. For a moment, she forgot everything, enjoying the feel of the sun caressing her cheek. Then she opened her eyes and the world was revealed to her once more. Sucking in a breath, Faith surveyed the front of the hospital with dismay. Ambulances and cars had been abandoned on the street, doors left open, and bloody trails tarnished everything. An eerie silence hung over the town like an oppressive weight. Faith strained to listen, hoping to hear anything to indicate that life was continuing on, but she could not even hear the near perpetual sound of traffic.
Faith felt like a mortal blow had been delivered to her. She found herself stumbling backwards with the realization that struck her – it was not just the hospital that had been abandoned, it was the town. Faith felt her legs weaken and she collapsed to the ground. Her knees hit the concrete and she felt the prick of pain nagging at her. Tears flowed freely from her eyes. She had failed. Despite all of the disadvantages that had been thrust upon her at birth, she had been given a destiny – a destiny more important than anything in the world – and she had thrown it away like rubbish. Lifting her hands to her face, she sobbed, for the first time in years. The tears were cathartic, but they were also a painful reminder of what she had really lost. Sunnydale had been destroyed, or so it seemed, along with everyone in it. She had lost everything that she had cared about and she felt completely empty inside, like a gaping hole in her chest was sucking the life from her breath by breath.
Finally, her tears subsided. She wiped the wetness from her cheeks and looked up at the deserted streets with a new sense of determination. She had wandered down the wrong path, but she could see the consequences of her actions. The Mayor had destroyed Sunnydale, but she could stop evil even greater than he, if she would only pick up the mantle of her calling again, and wear it proudly. Rising to her feet, she walked forward, slowly at first, but soon she found herself running. The wind whipped past her, blowing her wild, dark mane out behind her. The sun was rapidly descending in the sky, casting its final display of light before sinking. Her feet found their way to Main Street and she slowed. Her Slayer senses were ringing alarm bells in her mind. She slowed to a stop and surveyed the street. Her heart was pounding. The food had given her strength, but that strength was waning.
A newspaper blowing through the gutter caught her attention. Reaching down, she picked it up. She glanced at the date, closed her eyes, and chuckled to herself. "Eight months," she whispered. "I was out for eight months. I didn't do this." A heavy burden seemed to be lifted from her heart as she realized that the destruction of Sunnydale had not been a result of her actions in helping the Mayor, but of something else. Though she still felt guilty about her fall from the Scooby Gang and her role in the deaths of Alan Finch and the professor, she began to realize that she had not lost everything. The Mayor had not been responsible for the carnage she had witnessed; something else had been responsible. She would find whatever had caused such devastation and she would kill it – that was her destiny.
The silence that had permeated the town was suddenly broken as the sun disappeared from sight. A piercing, hungry whine cut through the air and Faith felt her blood run cold. "What the hell…," she said, turning to look back down the street. Her eyes widened at what she saw. A group of people stood several blocks away. They were stumbling towards her. As Faith looked at them more closely, her stomach turned. They were covered in blood. Several were missing limbs. One man was missing a chunk of his face. Despite their injuries, they continued on, picking up speed when they caught sight of the dark haired girl.
"What happened to you?" Faith shouted at the group, hoping to glean some answers from them, and to help them. Upon hearing her voice, a woman, with her left arm missing from the elbow, wailed. Faith instantly recognized the cry as the one that had so chilled her blood only moments before and she knew that the group was not composed of people who had been mauled by some monster. They were the monsters. "Shit," Faith muttered as they began to run towards her. Suddenly, a crackling bang ripped out through the steadily approaching night. Faith jumped and whirled around, looking for the source of the bang. Looking up, she saw a girl standing on the roof of a nearby sporting goods store. Faith recognized it as the building she and Buffy had broken into to gather weapons the night she had killed Alan Finch. A pang of regret flashed through her, but she shook it off, focusing her attention on the girl, who was now looking down at her. In her hands, she cradled a shotgun.
"Hey, you!" The girl shouted. "Get in here. The front door's open." Faith nodded and rushed forward. The gunshot had momentarily halted the progress of the group of mangled people, but they had regained their sense of purpose, and had begun running towards Faith again. She reached the front door of the sporting goods store and it flew open before her.
"Get in," another female voice called to her. The door slammed shut behind her and someone slid a filing cabinet in front of it.
"What the fuck is going on?" Faith demanded, resting her palms on her knees as she panted. Despite her Slayer stamina, she found that all of the running she had done, and her increased panic, had winded her.
"Faith?" The woman asked, moving closer. Faith looked up, squinting as the beam of the flashlight, which the woman was holding, met her eyes, and felt all of the blood drain from her face.
"Mrs. Summers?" She asked warily. Standing erect again, she slowly raised her hands as if to indicate that she did not mean the older woman any harm.
"I thought you were in a coma," Joyce stated confusedly.
"I woke up," Faith said simply, shrugging her shoulders.
"Everything cool?" The girl from the roof asked as she bounded down the stairs, still holding her shotgun.
"Yeah," Joyce replied, smiling softly. "Everything is fine."
"Good," the girl said. "Let's get back onto the roof then. I don't trust that they can't get in."
"Neither do I," Joyce muttered, glancing back at the door warily.
"What's going on?" Faith asked as Joyce and the younger girl led her up the stairs onto the second floor. A vertical ladder led up to the roof.
"What's your name?" The girl asked.
"Faith," the dark haired Slayer replied, feeling quite out of her element.
"I'm Liz," the girl said, smiling slightly. "There's a lot that you need to know."
"I'm starting to see that," Faith muttered.
"Don't worry," Joyce said, laying a reassuring hand on the Slayer's arm, "everything will make sense soon enough."
"Why are you being so nice to me?" Faith asked, following Joyce up the ladder. Once they had all reached the roof, Liz threw a hatch over the opening, to which the ladder led, and nodded over to a couple of lawn chairs sitting a few feet away. They moved to the chairs and sat. Faith, though eager to learn more about what had happened to the town, was relieved to give her sore muscles a rest.
"I always liked you, Faith," Joyce replied earnestly. "You lost your way. It caused a lot of people a lot of grief. I don't think you realized that at the time, though," she said, her eyes growing distant. Then she smiled and snapped back into the present. "Everyone deserves a second chance. Besides," she added, as an afterthought, "the world, as we know it, has ended. There's no sense in holding onto any grudges."
"Which leads me back to my original question," Faith said, "what happened?"
"We don't know really," Liz said lowly. Sighing heavily, she looked up into the sky. The stars were shining brightly. A new moon was rising. "Everything had been normal…well, as normal as things were in this town, if you take my meaning," she said, smirking. Faith laughed.
"I'm following," she stated.
"All I know is what I saw. I woke for school around five thirty in the morning. I got ready, opened the front door of my house and saw complete chaos raging outside. Cars were on fire. People were running around in the streets. Some were covered in blood. No one seemed to know what was happening. Then this man ran out of the house across the street from me. He was crazed," Liz said, shuddering at the memory. "There was something wrong with him. He saw a woman standing in the middle of the street. She was covered in blood and muttering something over and over to herself. He ran straight at her, tackled her, and started biting her…right in the middle of the street. Before I knew what was happening, my dad pulled me out of the doorway, threw me in the car, and drove us here."
"What was he doing to her?" Faith asked. "The man?"
"Eating her," Liz answered solemnly. "He was eating her."
"What about you?" Faith asked, looking over at Joyce. The older woman's eyes glinted in the moonlight.
"I left at five to come to the gallery. I had to do inventory. I wanted to get it done before I opened for the day. Everything was fine then. It's amazing to think how everything changed in so little time," she said, shaking her head. "I had just started doing inventory when I heard strange sounds out front. I walked around and saw something very similar to what Liz just described. Only," she said, hesitating, "I saw a boy, maybe ten years old, ripping into his mother's body. I think she was dead, I don't know."
"Fuck," Faith muttered, unable to comprehend the horror the two women had witnessed.
"Anyway," Joyce continued, "Liz and her father saw me standing in the doorway of the gallery and called to me."
"My father owned this place," Liz said. "He knew that we would be safe here."
"They called me over and I came up to the roof with them. We saw everything happen from here. I think I'd be dead right now if not for them," Joyce finished.
"Where's your father?" Faith asked, looking over at Liz.
"They got him two days after it happened," Liz replied, her voice oddly devoid of emotion. Faith smiled grimly, imaging that the young girl had seen so much horror, she had become desensitized to it.
"How long has this been happening?" Faith questioned.
"Two weeks," Joyce replied.
"So what are they?" Faith continued. The wailing of the group on the ground below grew in intensity. Their cries were soon joined by others, until the entire night was filled with angry and mournful sounds.
"I don't know exactly," Joyce stated. "But that woman that the boy was…eating," she said, "She got up, walked around, and attacked other people a couple of minutes later like nothing had happened."
"What?" Faith asked in surprise.
"Dead people are walking around eating people," Liz summarized. "Or something to that extent," she added, smiling sheepishly.
"Zombies," Faith stated with disbelief.
Joyce nodded. "I suppose they are."
"So is everyone dead then?" Faith asked.
"No," Liz shook her head. "We've seen signs of others. No one goes out at night though. That's when they come out. I don't know where they go during the day, but they don't like the sun."
"Every once in a while, we'll hear something…like someone scurrying between buildings. We had a radio for a while. The batteries stopped working, but we heard someone telling people to go to the Bronze. Apparently, people were holed up there. I don't know if they still are, or if they've gotten them," Joyce explained, nodding her head towards the edge of the roof, where below, the zombies were gathering.
Faith leaned back in her chair thoughtfully, allowing all of the information that she had been given to settle. Though she still had many questions, one burned through her mind, repeating over and over in an endless loop. Finally, looking up at Joyce, she spoke. "Where's Buffy?"