Something didn't smell right to Amy. Amy? Who's that?
There was only Bleeding Claw.
All Hunters referred to themselves by different titles, although it sounds like a combination of snarls and yips to uninfected ears.
It smelled like...
Tears?
And something sweet, too. There's only one thing that smells like tears.
A Crying Sister.
But where? She began to search, sniffing the ground for the strongest source.
It came from behind the red door. She growled at the scent.
"Go away, Crying One! This is MY territory. Not yours." She hissed at the infected. Of course, it didn't respond other than continuing to cry.
Claw huffed. Crying sisters are such a pain to deal with.
Only special flashing sticks could kill them quickly, at least as far as she knew. This gave her an idea. Claw began trotting around the room, sniffing for the flashing sticks.
They have a particular scent, so it was fairly easy to find. She pawed through the pile of assorted guns, looking for one in particular. After searching through the pile, she leaned down and clamped her jaws gently around the barrel of a tactical shotgun and brought it over to the dark colored uninfected.
The uninfected chatted amongst themselves, half skeptical and half impressed. Claw didn't understand what they said, but got the impression that they somewhat trusted her judgment.
Louis carefully picked up the gun, wiping off the barrel with his shirt. "Well, at least it knows how to get rid of the Witch." Zoey shrugged. "It's a smart vampire, that's for sure." Francis snorted, crossing his tattooed arms across his chest. Louis groaned. "Zombies, Francis. They're zombies. Not vampires." He corrected, Francis merely rolling his eyes in response.
"Are we gonna kill the bitch, or what? We don't have all day you know." Francis pointed out, tapping his feet impatiently. "Right. Louis, you lead since you have the shotgun. Zoey, Francis? You two cover him in case he startles her. I'll cover your rear and keep an eye on this oversized mutt of yours." Bill loaded his rifle, adjusting his hat on his head. The others nodded, grabbing ammunition for their guns and slinging medkits over their shoulders.
Claw shifted her weight, uncertain of what to do. She was never part of a pack before. For as long as she could remember, she had been alone. She didn't know how to act, where to stand, so she merely observed.
She watched as the uninfected gathered their flashing sticks and their healing bags. She watched as they cleaned up the area, placing things in piles and unbarring the entrance.
Her mind drifted as she stopped paying attention, and she began to think. Why doesn't she feel the need to slaughter these uninfected like the rest? What made this pack so special? More importantly, why isn't she hungry?
Before she could ponder further, she felt a sharp nudge to her side, snapping her back to reality. She looked up, seeing the alpha motion his weapon toward the exit. "Come on, mutt. Let's not keep the others waiting." Huffed the male, obviously wanting to move forward. Hesitantly, Claw got up, falling behind the group to observe the formation.
The dark uninfected, the young pup-like one, led the group. That made sense, he had the special flashing stick; his energy and eagerness would be useful to the pack's survivability. The beta and omega followed closely behind him, keeping an eye out for other infected.
The alpha kept behind the three, keeping watch for enemies from behind. It was also worth noting that the older alpha moved with a small limp, which slowed the group down slightly.
This would never do; the alpha could lag behind and sustain injuries! Making up her mind, she fell into step behind the alpha male and nudged him forward, making certain that the elder uninfected would be protected.
The crying picked up once more, making Claw snort in irritation. They moved forward, searching carefully for the source.
"Found her!" Yelped the young pup, firing his stick at the Crying one.
She screeched in pain, then cried no more.
A steady silence filled the air, and the group continued forward, laying waste to everything in their way.
Claw leapt forward, snapping her jaws around a Lesser infected who was sneaking up on the Omega.
The force from her bite immediately snapped the fibula, and eventually the thicker tibia with a sharp crack not unlike a gunshot.
She tugged and twisted her head violently, tearing flesh from broken bones. Tearing off the limb, she then plunged her claws through the infected's chest, and moved on to another target. This continued for a good half hour and the group made great progress.
Then Claw noticed the unmistakable stench of a Hurler and whined. It's vomit would attract a swarm of Lessors and slow the pack down! And besides, she'd rather not have to leave her hood out in the falling water to remove the scent. Carefully, she began to sniff for the place it was strongest.
The Hurler groaned and burbled quietly, unintelligibly babbling as it moaned in pain. Claw was able to pin the source down to a small room, keeping an eye on it while she went to alert the Alpha.
Bill, being a war veteran, was familiar with dogs.
That being said, this Huntress, while somewhat similar, was no German shepherd. He recognized some behaviors, though. Animalistic brutality and efficiency, strong jaw, pecking order assessment, among other details. The main thing he noticed was the fact that this infected seemed to be able to sense other special infected long before any of his companions did. That, and the Hunter kept dragging him over to closets with special infected inside them.
'Guess it regards me as the one in charge,' he thought, standing back as he shot a Boomer from a distance. 'Heh. Now if only Francis got the memo.' He smirked to himself, watching as the bloated zombie exploded in a shower of bile.
"Nice one, Bill!" Louis smiled, bashing a common infected with the butt of his gun. Bill nodded in acknowledgment, gunning down a small cluster in return. Soon, the group reached a set of stairs and began climbing. "I hate stairs." Complained Francis, scowling distastefully as he climbed. Louis chuckled. "It's good cardio, Francis!" Francis merely grumbled in response.
Continuing down a hall and up another flight of stairs, the group reached the infirmary portion of the hospital. The place was an absolute nightmare, corpses and body parts everywhere. Dark crimson blood stained the walls and beds, along with other bodily fluids.
The entire place reeked of blood, vomit, and sweat- even worse than the sewers, if that was possible.
Bill wasn't too put off by the sight, but the smell made him gag. "Holy- what the hell happened here?" Francis coughed, the scent making his eyes water. Zoey shrugged, walking closer to examine the police tape.
"My best guess? This is where the first infected came in, spread the disease through the hospital, and then the city. Look at these signs. 'Quarantine- authorized personal only'." Bill nodded. "Makes sense. A hospital wouldn't really have the equipment to deal with an airborne virus, or if it spread like a traditional zombie virus then they possibly didn't know to strap the infected down." He reasoned, watching the Huntress for its reaction.
Claw grunted at the mess, rubbing her snout with her paw. There was an over abundance of smells that made her mind reel in response.
She would need to rely on her other senses here.
Crouching, she slowly took off her hood and ran her claws through her mane. The dark brown locks, once a gorgeous chocolate brown, were tangled and stained with blood. Her eyes were dull and glassy, the irises a dark lavender. The cartilage in her nose had grown into a snout, with two sets of bloodied teeth. The mandible had extended as well, not that she cared. To her, these growths were normal. She peered around with bloodshot eyes, searching for movement beyond the group.
She ignored the odd looks her pack gave her, and trotted ahead.
Soon, she ran into a trio of Pouncing ones. They hissed at her scent, clicking their fangs in warning.
"Bleeding Claw, you dare show yourself to prey?" Questioned the alpha male, to which Claw bared her teeth.
"The prey you speak of are under my protection, Fang, I will not tolerate your insults." She threatened, making the Alpha scoff. "You are not even Alpha in your own pack, Claw! You are weak, blood traitor. Running tail between legs, taking orders from a Beta." The others jeered in agreement, throwing insults at her. "Mutant!"
"Traitor!"
"Coward!"
"Freak!"
"Disappointment!"
They kept up their onslaught, throwing insult after insult at her, until she had enough.
"ENOUGH!" She roared, standing on her hind legs to look taller. The trio stepped back, cowed by her feral tone. She flexed her claws in anger, snarling loudly at the three. "I grow tired of your petty insults, brothers. If you want a fight, then fight. I will show you what a mutant is capable of." She growled, causing the Alpha to grin wildly.
"Then it is settled. Once the horde has been summoned and defeated by your 'pack', we shall fight to the death. May the better predator survive." With that, the rival alpha and its lackeys scattered off, most likely to find a place to wait in ambush.
Claw merely snorted in irritation. They would be nothing but a mere annoyance to her. Who cared if she took orders from the beta? It was the smartest decision seeing as it was only begrudgingly cooperative.
Slinking off with a huff, Claw went to find her pack, killing any commons that dared cross her path.
Quite frankly, she was pissed off. Her mutations may not be nice looking, but they served a purpose.
She wasn't just a mindless animal. She was strong, fast, deadly, and she would prove it.
Claw snarled. She'd show them. She'd show them all.
But first, she needed to find her pack.