(Just a little clarification here)

"This is normal speech."

'This is normal thoughts.'

"This is infected speech"

On to the story!

"There's a Safe house over there! Finally."

Louis exclaimed, feeling exhausted from everything that occurred. First there was the pawn shop fiasco, then the sewer, and now they reached Mercy Hospital, half dead but still kicking.

It was getting harder and harder to stay positive these days.

"About damn time! Even my ass hurts."

Francis barked, limping slowly behind the group. Bill fared little better, his bum leg having ceased up a while ago. He grumbled, something about wartime injuries being much worse. Zoey was mentally worn out, but otherwise she was fine.

"Quit your complaining, Francis. We're alive, right? There bound to be some medkits in the Safe house." She reasoned, shutting him up.

That, and she was pointing a desert cobra at him.

Louis chuckled, rolling his eyes. Out of all the people he could have met, he was stuck with a cranky biker, a gruff veteran, and a horror movie fanatic.

They were all crazy, but, then again, so was he. Besides, it's not like there was anyone else left. As far as he knew, everyone else had been infected or evacuated already.

Louis reached the red door, moving to open the door, surprised when it was already opened.

Was someone already here?

"Uh... Guys? The door's already open." He stated.

"If someone else made it before us, that means we aren't the only immune ones!" Zoey smiled, excited at the idea that she might not be the last woman left.

"Now now, we don't know that for certain." Bill added, careful not to get our hopes up. Francis sneered. "It better not be some jackass. That's my job."

Louis slipped inside the safe house, raising an eyebrow at the interior. It was a total mess, tables knocked over and chairs stacked on top of each other. A large pile of blankets laid in a dark corner, untouched by the chaos.

"What the hell happened here? Did a Tank redecorate this place?" He asked no one in particular, sitting down on a plush chair. The others didn't respond, too preoccupied with applying first aid.

Louis sighed, pushing a file cabinet in front of the door, turning off the light so they could get some rest.

The others fell asleep quickly, snoring peacefully as Louis tossed and turned.

'Just my luck. I'm tired all day, but when we finally get a chance to rest, I can't sleep.' He thought bitterly. He laid there in the darkness, keeping silent so the others could rest.

He didn't know how long he laid there, but he was getting bored. Just when he was about to close his eyes, he heard soft growls from the corner of the room. Quietly, he turned his head towards the sound, straining his eyes to see.

The pile of blankets shifted, a slim figure shaking the blankets off.

It's black silhouette was a strange sight, crouched on all fours, similarly to a Hunter. The figure paused, smelling the air. His eyes widened as it turned to face him.

This was bad.

The figure approached him slowly, the soft clinking of claws against the concrete floor making him wince. He braced himself for the worst.

But nothing came.

Confused, Louis slowly opened one eye, immediately regretting his decision. The figure had stopped to observe him, closer than he could be comfortable with.

Although, now he could better observe the figure.

It wore an oversized, bright pink hoodie, stained with blood and chunks of flesh in various places, yet seemingly comfortable. Seeing the hoodie, Louis immediately recognized the figure as a Hunter.

The hood covered most of it's face, but what flesh it didn't hide was raw and bloody, most likely claw wounds. It was decidedly feminine in appearance, so he assumed it was female. 'She', had matted brown hair, tangled and coated in flakes of dried blood.

It raised a clawed hand up to him, causing his heart to race. Instead of clawing him though, she gently pawed at his chest, similarly to a cat with a new toy. Louis relaxed slightly, thankful for the lack of hostilities.

But Louis was still very puzzled. Millions of questions raced through his mind. Why didn't she attack? Who was she before infection? Did he know her? What was she like? She chirped quietly, as if attempting to speak.

The Huntress, on the other hand, was just as puzzled. She had just woken up from a nice nap to find a bunch of uninfected inside her den. She sniffed the air, recognizing the scent. It was the same group from earlier!

Hearing a sharp intake of air, she turned to face the source.

Although her eyesight wasn't spectacular, she could clearly sense the heat coming from the uninfected. It smelled of papers and ink, as well as another scent she couldn't quite grasp. It was familiar to her, but she couldn't remember from where. She shook the blankets off, wanting a closer look.

Slowly, she creeped up to it, careful to avoid startling it. The uninfected froze, it's fear apparent. She paused, having gotten close enough to touch it.

The uninfected were strange. They had no claws for protection, nor did they have any special abilities like her brethren. They were more like the many Lessors that roamed the streets, weak on their own, but strong in numbers. They weren't built for fighting like she was.

She reached out to touch him, pausing when the uninfected trembled. He seemed frightened. But why? She wasn't that strong. She couldn't kill her prey, merely wound them.

But they didn't know that. She gently pawed at the uninfected, watching him for a response. Seeing that she wasn't a threat, he relaxed slightly. His fear slowly ebbed away, replaced with a new emotion. Confusion.

"Who are you?" She asked quietly, wanting to understand. He was still very confused.

Then she thought of something. Perhaps he didn't understand infected tongue? It made sense, since they never seemed to react when her Crying sisters growled at them to leave her alone.

Suddenly, a blinding light shined in her eyes, making her screech in pain. She dove for the blanket pile, yipping in fear.

"You okay Louis? I heard some growling and came to inspect." Bill walked over, helping him up. "I-I'm fine, really. Just.. Startled, that's all." He explained, rubbing his head.

"What was that thing next to you? Didn't look like anything we've seen before." He glanced at the blankets, which were shaking in fear. Louis shrugged. "Don't know. It looked like a Hunter, only smaller. She wasn't attacking though." Before Bill could respond, Francis growled.

"What's with all the racket, people?! Some of us are trying to sleep here." He huffed, irritated from being woken. Zoey yawned as well. "Is it time to go already?"

Bill cursed, rubbing his forehead. "Well, I believe we found the cause of this messy Safe room."

The two perked up, Francis grabbing his shotgun. "Where is he?"

Louis sputtered. "Guys, w-we really don't need t-!" "In the blankets. It's an infected." Bill interrupted, pointing to the pile. Louis paled. They were gonna kill her?! She didn't even do anything!

"Alright you infected son of a bitch, you got until the count of three to get the hell outta here before I pump your ass fulla lead." Francis threatened, cocking his gun for good measure.

'You've really done it now, Louis.' Louis thought to himself.