Living life as an Infected was hell. No one could understand exactly how much unless they, too, had been infected. Bob had been someone before the pandemic, before he had gotten bitten by a monster he had once called his neighbor.
Being unable to communicate was the hardest part. He could still think almost as clearly as he had before the Green Flu, but for some reason, he had no way to voice his thoughts aloud. All he could do was scream and moan, like the part of his brain that remembered how to speak had been shut off.
He felt especially stupid for putting his family in danger. He once had a lovely wife, June, and two lovely children, Nate and Cassie. He had bitten them and left them for dead. He hadn't been able to control the impulse, because inside of him had been an insatiable hunger that could only be satiated by human flesh.
Becoming a cannibal was the last thing Bob had expected. He'd heard stories on the news about people killing and eating each other, but he had thought the news was overblowing the Infection like they did with everything else. It wasn't until it had hit his city when he had realized the gravity of what was happening.
He'd wandered so far from his hometown that he had no idea where he was now. All he could see was grassy plains and forests. The hunger for human flesh had only gotten worse the longer he went without seeing any survivors. It had to be non-infected people as well, because flesh of other Infected like him was intolerable to taste.
He'd also lost track of the days, because every day was pretty much the same. Hunt for enough food to try to stave the hunger. The most remarkable thing about how he lived now was that no matter how long he had to wait between "meals," he stubbornly clung onto life. He would have preferred dying, but apparently the Infection had given him longevity. There was no way for him to escape it without actively committing suicide, and for some reason he was unable to stomach that particular option.
He was now wandering the field, wondering if he would be able to find any other Infected person to try to talk to. Even when he was part of a group, communication was impossible, but it was at least comforting to be in a group of people who understood how he felt. It had been a while since he'd been in a group like that. It had been even longer since he'd had a survivor to feast on, as his stomach continuously reminded him.
As he wandered, he ended up finding a highway long since abandoned. It was weird to see all of the abandoned cars on the side of the road. He remembered being asked to evacuate his town when the Infection had started ramping up out of control, but of course he hadn't listened. He could kick himself for how ignorant he had been. His life now was a punishment for that ignorance and a constant reminder that things could have been better.
He had been wandering without purpose for the entire day, and his legs were starting to get tired. He stopped where he was and lowered himself to the ground, just to sit for a moment. It had rained recently, so the grass beneath him was cold and wet, but he didn't care. With all the welts and rotting flesh on his body, what was a little water?
Now that he was idle, he unwillingly recalled what had happened to him and his family just as the Infection had hit.
"Honey," June said, "don't you think we need to follow the mayor's order to evacuate?"
"No," Bob replied. "How many false alarms have we had over the past few months? They've never amounted to anything. I'm not leaving my home and joining that endless line of cars on the highway."
June looked ready to object, but she didn't have the words to do so, so she fell silent.
"Daddy," Cassie said, "what's going on?"
"Apparently there's a pandemic spreading around the country," Bob said, "but it hasn't come here yet. We're safer here than trying to drive out of town. It's going to be fine."
Bob went to the kitchen to take a look out the window. His neighbor Terry had a much nicer house than he did, which had made him bitter towards him, but he had been nothing but friendly to them since moving in. Terry had decided not to evacuate, either.
"Aren't you tired of trying to keep up with the Joneses?" June asked.
"It's hard," Bob said, "especially when I could have afforded his house if I hadn't been laid off. This economy fucking sucks."
"Uh-oh," Cassie said. "Daddy said a no-no word."
"Grow up," Nate said to his sister. "You're not four anymore."
"Can you two stop arguing?" June asked. "Daddy and I are trying to have a conversation."
"Sorry," Nate said.
"Yeah, sorry," Cassie added.
"Look, here comes Terry now," Bob said. "He always has to come out in the morning in a bathrobe nursing his coffee...wait a minute."
Terry was coming out of the house, but he was hunched over, clearly in pain. Bob was about to go outside to see what the problem was, but before he did, he saw Terry transform before his eyes. His skin changed to a greenish color and he started drooling uncontrollably. Terry then looked directly at the window.
"Honey, kids, get down!" Bob yelled. June, Nate, and Cassie dropped to the floor, unsure what was happening. Bob ran to the locked safe that carried a Magnum pistol. He didn't want to shoot his neighbor, but would not hesitate if he tried to hurt his family. As he was trying to open the safe, his hands were shaking, making it hard to turn the lock. By the time he had the safe open, Terry was banging on the door.
"Bob, what's happening?" June yelled from the kitchen.
"Be quiet! I'll take care of this," Bob said. He thought he had the situation under control, but was proven wrong when Terry broke down the door. He came after Bob first, lunging at him and then biting him in the neck. Bob cried out in pain, then shoved Terry away from him. He abandoned the safe and instead went into the kitchen to try to stand between Terry and his family.
Terry lunged forward and shoved Bob out of the way. Bob hit the side of the counter and fell over. Terry then lunged at his family. Bob screamed as he saw Terry attack his family. They had no chance to fight back, and were promptly killed by the attack.
Enraged, Bob lunged at Terry and slammed his head into the kitchen table over and over until he was unconscious. Bob screamed again when he looked at what Terry had done to his family. He then started to feel pain all across his body that had nothing to do with his grief. He keeled over in pain and felt like he was burning up. After a few more moments, the pain subsided.
Bob wandered into the bathroom to look at himself in the mirror. When he did, he howled in fear, because he looked just as bad as Terry did.
That was all Bob cared to remember at the moment. That day, he had lost both his family and his humanity. The first loss he had been able to understand right away, but the second loss had taken a long time to get used to. At that point, Bob wanted nothing more than to stop wandering and to die of hunger, or thirst, or anything. He prayed for his death to come, but God had apparently ignored those prayers.
As he wandered, he was shocked to see an overturned bus. He had not expected to see anything like that, and he was curious to investigate. He wandered over slowly, hoping not to alert any Infected or anyone else that might be in the accident. When he arrived at the bus, he looked inside. There was no one inside.
He should have figured there would be no one there. This bus could have crashed months ago as part of the attempt for people to evacuate. And even if there had been someone in there, how would he have established communication? He didn't run into survivors often anymore, but every time he did, they screamed and ran the other way. It wasn't surprising given his appearance, but he wished that they could have understood that on the inside, he was still very much human.
Bob left the bus behind and began wandering again, using the highway as his guide. He wasn't quite sure where he was going, but maybe there'd at least be a town nearby.
As he wandered, the only thing he could think of was his family. He had failed them by refusing to believe the news, and he'd seen them killed as a result of his negligence. He wanted nothing more than to join them in heaven, but he was certain he'd be going in the other direction. The things he had done since becoming infected were certainly against the teachings of the Bible. At the beginning, there were more survivors mixed in with the Infected, and he had feasted on the flesh of many of those survivors. It felt gross to think about, and he was tortured by the memories, but his hunger had refused to let him act reasonably.
It was starting to get dark, but another "benefit" of the Infection he had was that he no longer needed to sleep, despite how tired he always felt. If he couldn't die, he at least wished he could sleep to forget about his circumstances for at least a few hours a day. But no, sleep eluded him, so there was no escape from the hell that his life had become.
Bob continued wandering alongside the highway. He had nothing better to occupy his mind on except looking at the abandoned vehicles and trying to guess what make and model they all were. It wasn't much of a distraction, but it was at least something.
So focused was he on the highway that he wasn't paying enough attention to where he was walking. He bumped into someone and nearly fell over. He then looked and saw that he had bumped into another infected person.
Bob wanted to say "hi," but all he could muster was a loud moan. Shockingly, the other person howled back at him, not in an angry way, but almost as a way to acknowledge that he had been addressed.
After that, the two of them began wandering in the same direction. They had nothing to talk about, but at least for a little while, Bob could spend some time with someone else who understood what he was going through. The two of them kept wandering until they saw a group of people wandering ahead of them. Bob could smell them from here and knew that they were not infected. The hunger that was normally latent fired up, so overwhelming that he had to charge after the survivors to feast on them. The other infected person noticed as well, and the two of them charged after the group of survivors. So hungry was Bob that he didn't realize how well-armed they were. As the two of them sprinted towards them, one of them turned and saw them charging. Bob didn't realize that this person was aiming a shotgun in his direction until it was too late. The survivor shot his companion first, and he crumbled to the ground dead immediately. In a split second, Bob knew that the same fate was coming to him. Rather than flee from it, he ran towards his death with open arms. The last thing he remembered was a quick moment of pain as the shotgun fired, and then he was no more.
"Nice shot, Bill," Ellis said. "I didn't even hear those bastards coming."
"We always have to watch our backs," Bill replied. "Let's keep moving."
The survivors kept walking. Since saying a proper farewell to Coach at the overpass, there had not been much they wanted to discuss. They had almost been in a lull at one point, but the two zombies that had attacked them had brought them back to reality.
"You know what?" Ellis said. "It's real easy to just think of these guys as zombies, but they were all people like us once. Take those two guys that Bill just killed. Those guys had family and friends before they got sick. Everyone's got their own story."
"So what?" Nick said. "They feed on human flesh, they can't communicate, they're not really people anymore."
"Yeah, I get that," Ellis said, "but they were people before all this. That's all I'm saying."
"You can't get worked up about that," Bill said. "You start humanizing the enemy, you're gonna find it harder to fight. Trust me, they would never afford you the same courtesy."
"Do you ever think about what goes on in their heads?" Louis asked. "Like...yeah, they're pretty much zombies on the outside, but what happens on the inside?"
"I think you're still a little fuzzy from that concussion you probably had," Nick said.
"Hang on," Rochelle said. "Louis has a point. They were people before all this. What do you think happens to your thought process when you're infected?"
"No idea," Francis said, "because I've never stopped a zombie enough to ask them what they're thinking. Even if they could, what would they possibly have to think about? How miserable they are? Fuck it, I'm sure whatever it is ain't all that important."
"Have to agree with the big guy on this one," Nick said. "The point's not to try to understand these zombies. The point is to stay alive."
"Can we just keep moving?" Zoey asked. "I'm feeling a bit queasy."
"Queasy?" Bill asked. "Queasy how?"
"Not 'I'm about to be a zombie' queasy, if that's what you're worried about," Zoey said. "I just feel a little sick to my stomach."
"With the shit that we've had to eat," Nick said, "I'm surprised you're the only one who's queasy right now."
"Can we just...stop for a minute or two?" Zoey asked. "I need a rest."
"Okay," Bill said. "Everyone, take five."
The survivors stopped where they were. Ellis sat next to Zoey, hoping to console her. "You alright?" he asked.
"Fine," Zoey said. "I think it's just something I ate, not a big deal."
"Wish I had something to make you feel less nauseous," Ellis said. "Anything I can do to help at all?"
"Just sit here and be quiet," Zoey said. "Just need to rest for a bit, then I should be fine."
Meanwhile, Rochelle was talking to Francis.
"Look at those kids," Rochelle said. "They're still honeymooning."
"Yep, young love is something," Francis said. "I remember my first real relationship. She hated that I was on the road with my gang all the time, so she dumped me."
"Those two don't have that to worry about. What would happen if there was a problem, though? It's not like they can just split up."
"I don't know, but if things weren't working, Zoey would be the one to dump his sorry ass."
"Excuse me? Why can't Ellis be the one to dump her?"
"Christ, Rochelle, just look at them. He's got that puppy kind of love. Zoey ain't like that."
"Hmm…guess I can't really disagree. What about the two of us?"
"Huh?"
"If things started going South for us, who would initiate the breakup?"
"What a dumb question."
"You only say that because you know I'd be the one to do it."
"Bullshit. I would definitely dump you first."
"As if! I'm the hottest chick you've ever come across. I don't even have to know your history to know that."
"Well, I'm probably the toughest guy you've ever dated."
"Nah, you don't even make the top five."
"Fuck off, really?" Francis looked incredulous. "You're screwing with me, right?"
"Sorry, I've got a thing for muscular guys. You're looking a little soft to me now. Can't exactly lift weights and down a million protein shakes when you're running from zombies all day."
"Come on, you know I'm still the most jacked guy in the group by a longshot."
Rochelle looked at Bill, Ellis, Nick, and Louis. "Fine, you've got a point there."
"Look, Francis, don't get me wrong. You're a hunk of meat. You're just not the hunkiest meat I've ever head. There's better things than just being muscular, you know."
"Yeah? Enlighten me."
"You have to have a good heart. You have to care about your friends and family. The seven of us have been through so much these last few weeks, I'm starting to think we are a family now. And when the chips are down, you fight like hell to keep us alive. That's a lot more admirable than being a tough guy."
Francis gave Rochelle a smile. "Thanks."
"And one more thing about the other guys I've dated. Trust me, they wouldn't last five minutes out here."
"That's good to know," Francis said.
Bill was looking over Louis.
"Sit down, son," Bill said. "You've been woozy all day. I think you might have a concussion."
"Woozy? I'm fine," Louis said. "I'm just dizzy as hell and a little queasy."
"That's definitely not 'fine,'" Bill said. "Now, I know you had to tough it out to get out of that bus, but that doesn't mean you have to keep doing that now. Try to lay down, it might help with the dizziness."
"Okay…" Louis said, lying down on the grass. "It's wet and cold."
"We just had a hell of a rainstorm," Bill said. "That's to be expected."
"You sure there's nothing else I can do?" Louis asked. "I'm still a little dizzy."
"We don't have any medication for that," Bill said. "You'll just have to tough it out and hope you don't take any more blows to the head. We'll do everything possible to protect you until you feel better."
"Thanks," Louis said. "I might take a quick power nap, if that's okay."
"Sure," Bill said, leaving Louis alone and beckoning the other survivors over.
"We have to camp here for the rest of the day," Bill said. "Louis isn't feeling well, so he needs time to recuperate."
"You think he has a concussion?" Zoey asked.
"It's highly likely," Bill said. "We have no good way to treat him out here, so all we can do now is rest."
"That's fine with me," Francis said. "I just hope all the rain has passed by now. There's no shade out here if another storm comes in."
"Is my tough guy afraid of a little water?" Rochelle asked, playfully punching him in the arm.
"Maybe he's the Wicked Witch of the West in disguise," Nick said. "'I'm melting! I'm melting!'" He started doing an impression of the witch melting to the ground.
"Nick is in a joking mood again," Bill said. "Guess that means things are starting to go back to normal."
"Almost normal," Rochelle said. "I still miss Coach."
"I think we all do," Zoey said. "I wish there was more we could have done."
"It's hard to think about the ones we've left behind," Bill said. "Many of the soldiers in my unit kept in touch after Vietnam. All we really had was each other. A few guys ended up committing suicide. I can't remember the number of funerals I had to attend because of that. With the apocalypse, I've lost contact with the guys who were left. I never thought it would come to this." For the first time in a long time, Bill allowed himself a stray tear. It trickled down his cheek and landed on the wet grass.
Zoey walked over to Bill and offered him a hug, which he awkwardly accepted. "We all lost friends and family when the outbreak hit. Well…maybe not Nick, but everyone else."
"Oh, come on, I had some buddies," Nick said. "I mean, they would have killed me because I owed them a lot of money, but still."
"Those aren't buddies, then," Rochelle said. "Sounds like loan sharks to me."
"Don't explain the joke," Nick retorted.
"Guys, I mean, Zoey is right," Francis said. "Our friends, our family, the people we worked with. They're all gone. None of them had what it took to survive like we have. We're the exception to the rule."
"Damn, Francis, you've got a good point," Zoey said. "Honestly, though, how lucky were we to find each other? When I teamed up with Bill, Francis, and Louis, I didn't think any of them had what it took to stay alive this long."
"Excuse me?" Francis asked.
"I don't mean that in a bad way," Zoey said. "I mean that if any of us had tried to survive on our own, we would have been dead. I had never fired a gun in my life before this. Bill has the bad knee. Louis was a white-collar worker who wasn't in great shape. And Francis, I thought at first that you were too reckless to make it. But with the four of us working as a team, we became more than the sum of our parts. It took teamwork for us to survive this long. Rochelle, Nick, Ellis, don't you agree?"
"Yeah, I'd say I have to agree," Rochelle said. "Nick, you would have pissed off every zombie within shouting distance. Ellis, sweetie, you can be clumsy at times. And I'm like you, Zoey, not exactly a master marksman. Would anyone disagree?"
Nobody made a response.
"Then I think Zoey hit the nail on the head. We're all survivors because we work together."
"I still can't believe Coach is gone," Nick said in a moment of unexpected tenderness. "Shit, I railed on him a lot when he was with us, but now I just miss him."
"Then let's do this," Francis said. "Every motherfucking zombie we kill from this point on is for Coach. We're gonna leave a body count so high in his honor that we'll lose track after a few hundred or so. You guys with me?"
"Yes!" they all said.
"Then everyone huddle up," Francis said. "Everyone stick out a hand. Come on, Louis, you, too."
Louis rose from the ground slowly and joined the others. The survivors then put their hands in the center of the huddle.
"On the count of three, we say 'Coach.' Ready? One, two, three."
"Coach!"
The survivors lifted their arms to the air. After a moment, Bill saw something out of a corner of his eye.
"Hunter!" he yelled. "Running straight for us!"
The survivors aimed their weapons and waited for the Hunter to get closer. It hollered and dove towards Louis, who was still a bit shaky. Nick leveled a shot that made it stagger, and then Bill finished it off.
"That was number one for Coach," Francis said, kicking the zombie's corpse over.
"Technically three," Zoey said. "Don't forget those two commoners from earlier."
"Alright then," Francis said, "the body count is three."
"Hopefully that's where it stays until tomorrow morning," Bill said. "Louis still needs time to recover."
"Let's all just sit down and take a moment to breathe," Rochelle said.
The other survivors gladly followed suit. With no zombies in sight, they had a chance to reflect on what they'd been through and the loved ones they had lost along the way. All of them were determined to keep pushing forward, not just in honor of Coach, but also in honor of everyone else they had loved and lost. For most, that was a lot of people. No amount of zombie killing would bring them back, so all they could do to avenge their deaths was to keep living.