I'm addicted to TF2 for the billionth time.

Yay.

Chapter 11: Sentient Ones

~Ellis~

"You guys ever wonder why the zombies only punch us?"

We found a safe room not far from the restaurant just as the rain started to lightly come down. Katelyn was much calmer now, and she actually had a smile on her face as we were talking about whatever the hell came to our minds. Zoey was asleep next to me, gripping her gun like her life depended on it. Louis was tapping his fingers to a song in his head, although I did notice him sneaking a bottle of pain pills here and there into his medkit. Francis and Coach were doing rock-paper-scissors over the auto shotgun (Francis's idea, although Coach was winning), Nick was stocking up on explosive ammo for his Uzi, and Rochelle cleaned an assault rifle she found at a garage sale.

A couple minutes ago, Kate was toying with the laser sight on her gun, when we noticed Jason watching the dot on the wall like a cat.

"I noticed that too, it's kinda weird how they don't think to bite first," she replied back, fiddling with one of her pistols. They looked like miniature assault rifles to me, and I had trouble believing they were the same pistols that I had. A Glock and a P2... Something...

"My dad actually got me into making my own gun," Kate said, noticing me looking at her weapon. "If he wanted to, he'd be a gun manufacturer."

"Sounds like an interesting childhood ya got there," I joked, nudging her softly. "Nah, other than that," Kate stopped, clearing her throat, "Ah had a purdy normal lafe," she broke into laughter imitating me. Hell, it was a little funny. I laughed along with her, and could almost feel Nick glaring at me. He would always talk in a stereotypical southern accent, but I'd ignore it since it was mostly meant to be an insult.

"Really, what about the... parker thing?"

"Parkour?"

"Yeah, parkour, ain't that fun?"

"Yeah, but other than that most of my life was... average."

"Huh." We sat in silence after that. I usually had tons of stories from hanging around with my buddy Keith, but now, I got nothing.

"Kate, you never told us how you found Jason," Rochelle spoke out, and I silently thanked her for the new conversation. "Or, more likely, how he found you," Nick chimed in.

"Well, before, I was traveling with some guy that saved me from one of the smokers," Kate started, most of us listening in now. "But he turned out to be a complete psycho, and wanted to kill me when Jason started following us. Eventually, I got on a roof with the bastard chasing me, and instead of being torn to shreds, Jason led me to my old apartment, away from the guy."

Damn, it's not everyday where a kid survives a zombie apocalypse, a psycho, AND befriends a zombie so easily.

"You are one lucky kid," Coach said, gently placing his new auto shotgun next to him as Francis mumbled about hating rock-paper-scissors.

"You're luckier than ma buddy Keith," I started, "this one time we were in this swamp and he got attacked by an alligator. We didn't harass it or nothin', we were jus' trying to grab two so we could piss 'em off and watch 'em fight-"

"Ellis, please, can this wait for when we're out of this mess?" Nick groaned, when Katelyn butted in. "No, it's alright. I wanna hear what happens."

I smiled at her as I continued on.

~Katelyn~

I'm immune, but... could the virus still have psychological effects? Whatever happened with that Tank... I'm not that brutal... even to one of those things. I don't even remember why I started crying...

"I think the storm's clearing up enough," Coach said as the light drizzle outside lessened.

"Screw it, let's find the gas before it comes back," Nick said, picking up a magnum.

Something sharp poked my back, ad I turned to see Jason, standing up, holding something in his hand.

It was a frag grenade. Not a Molotov, or those jars of puke or a pipebomb. A legitimate, military frag grenade, with a blue LED taped to it with a small flashlight battery.

"Where the hell did you find this?" I asked, but he was already scribbling on the ground again with his claw. "Alright, let's go," I sighed, heading to the thick steel door.

~Lizzie~

I could hear them talking in the bright room, and stayed on the roof as I listened closely. Their language was almost impossible to understand, it was like listening to Lessers mumbling, only more formal. I picked up similar words here and there, but I couldn't remember them.

I think I was a Cryer. That's what Others called me, and it made sense. When I first woke up, I had horrible dreams that I never seemed to remember, but would still be left traumatized from. And I couldn't control my crying, but when a Livie tried and help me I was blind in this... uncontrollable rage. They disturbed my grieving, and the next thing I knew I was tearing the organs out of a lifeless body, the look of fear frozen on her face. It made me feel even worse, and this went on for the next few days.

Eventually, I managed to control my crying, although I break down easily, and I tried remembering what happened before I first woke up, aside from the nightmares. None of it worked, but I eventually found a large building with interesting smells. Inside, it was filled with strange powder, but upon inspection it was delicious. I decided to stay there, since it calmed my cravings and hunger. There were other Cryers that were there, but they never did anything aside from crying and screaming at Livies.

I pulled the dirty, bloody blanket closer to me, careful not to rip it with my long claws. They were longer than my hands themselves, and it was almost impossible to do anything. The voices inside sounded like they were getting ready to go, and I watched as the large red part of the wall opened up. Two Livies stepped out, including a Jumper, although I knew there were more inside.

One of the two definitely smelled like a Living one, but the other one was... different. She smelled like Livies did, but more like... me, like a mix of a Livie, Cryer, AND a Jumper.

"Jason, stay with us," the Mixed One said, and I was startled. She was speaking like Livies, yet I understood her completely. The dark Living one spoke to her, but it was like gibberish. The Jumper looked up when the Mixed One said Jason, and I assumed he was Jason. He crawled alongside her after looking in my direction cautiously, like he may have seen me. He seemed like me, half-dead, but it seems like he could control it, unlike others. I met a Choker not long ago just like us, but he didn't stay around. Too bad.

The Livie said something else, and the Mixed One responded, saying "Alright, Coach. Five minutes then Ellis and Zoey come, right?"

The Livie's name must of been Coach. He seemed nice, but I reminded myself that he'll kill me on sight. The large metal tube in his hand tore Lessers to shreds in quick flashes of light and sound, and I didn't want to end up like them.

As they headed through the maze of Cryers and 'sugar,' as I'd later discover it was called, to the large building separating them from the fields and foul-smelling station, I stayed ahead, making small but noticeable paths for them to follow to avoid the Monsters. They were huge beasts that killed everything, whether they were a Livie or dead.

I stepped on something hard and noticed a white, cylinder object at my feet. Adjusting my black, fur/wool cap (I wasn't sure which it was), I picked the cylinder up and examined it, laying low and playing dead incase the Coach one saw me. I saw Livies use it when they were hurt but couldn't safely heal themselves at the time. I got lost in examining the cylinder that I forgot to watch out for the three.

"Katelyn!" Jason hissed in the growls Jumpers spoke in, but the Mixed One - Katelyn - didn't notice or understand, because I felt her body trip over me and pin me down. How dare she?!

I pushed her off as I growled angrily, but the rage never came. When a Dead-like bothered me, I'd be mad like anyone else would be, but not like the unstoppable killing rage and resulting grief if it was a Livie. I was feeling the normal anger with Kate.

Screw it, I'll try helping.

If she can't understand Jason, she probably won't understand me. I'd have to try speaking like a Livie. "H... Hhhhh-i... h-... i..." I strained, calming down and looking at her.

She looked like a Jumper, with a green hoodie and dark, torn, baggy pants, but her eyes were a deep green instead of the deadly red (or empty holes) Jumpers had, signaling she was a Livie. She had the shiny tape almost all Jumpers had, and a few cuts here and there. The large wound on her leg was covered by these cloth-like wrappings, and, like Coach, she held a metal tube of death in her hand, although it was aimed at the ground, not me. "Y-you can speak?" Kate asked, and I warily shook my head no. It was a miracle I remembered a greeting.

Jason glared at me from behind his hood, I knew he didn't trust me. Nobody did, and they had a reason not to. I felt tears wanting to come out, and swallowed the lump in my throat.

"No harm," I told Jason, and I saw him hesitate before making markings in the dirt for Katelyn and Coach to see. It looked like the markings Livies made in the protected buildings with the thick, red walls.

"'She means no harm,'" Katelyn said, reading the words, "'and I trust her.' Well, if you trust her, Jason, I guess I will."

Coach said something that sounded similar, but it was still extremely difficult to understand. The Livie looked at me, and I guess that he asked me something, because he was waiting for a response. "Um..." I couldn't think of a way to communicate, but Jason began scribbling furiously into the dirt, trying to get the engravings he made visible in the light rain.

"'She can only understand other Infected and for some reason you,'" Katelyn repeated, eyeing me, "why for some reason me?"

Jason didn't answer, and I figured out why Katelyn smelled like such a mix. She was turning into one of us, but for some reason incredibly slowly. Maybe, unless she was a Carrying one.

"So she probably can't understand the other Survivors, like Coach," she said, and Jason nodded. So that's what Livies called themselves. Survivors.

Coach grabbed Katelyn's attention again, and she gestured for me to follow them. "We're gonna go get some gas from the station up ahead, you should come with us," she said to me, and I carefully took her hand, making sure not to scratch it. What did it matter, anyway? Katelyn was already carrying the disease. Did she know? Did the 'others' she mentioned know? Why were we called 'Infected?'

I let the questions bounce around my head as we walked on to the large building.