I walk down the streets in the most decrepit area of town, the teen right behind me. Then, I see what I was waiting for. A single guard patrolling, his gun in its sling. The teenager knows what to do, and stands guards as I crouch down and follow the man. He's a little bigger than me, but his uniform can fit me. I pull a knife from my pocket, lie down on the ground, and scream at the guard for help. In an instant he flips around, and comes rushing over to me. He crouches beside me and asks, "Citizen, what's wrong? Were you-". The rest of his sentence is a gargled mess as I slash his throat, a small unarmored area allowing me to kill him. I quickly push his head back, so his blood doesn't stain his helmet or shirt. I manage to stand, get behind him, and wait until he's done bleeding. Then, I quickly trade our clothes. He looks a little strange in my armor, but I look fine in his. I'm buckling the helmet on when I hear the rush of footsteps, and another guard appears. She looks at the body and asks me, "What happened?". I wave at the body and tell her, "Infected.". She nods and says, "Dump the body and don't be seen, you know the drill.". The guard turns to leave, but notices the teenager. She sighs, takes out her gun, and says, "Looks like we got another straggler.". The guard aims, but I stop her by saying, "She's with me, don't worry.".
Her covered head cocks to the side and she questions, "Why on earth did you approve of a citizen following you during your rounds?". I quickly think of an excuse and tell her, "She's considering joining the guards.". The woman goes 'oh' and says, "That's fine, but next time send her to the central office.". I nod and apologize, "Sorry, I'll do that next time.". The soldier claps me on the shoulder and leaves, stepping over the corpse of her fellow. I sigh in relief and rush back to the teenager, my fellow nearly pissing herself when she sees me. I wave at her and explain, "It's me, now come on.". I open my map of the city (the guard had a map in his pocket) to check I know where I'm going, and begin heading to my destination. When we reach the prison I once again stash the teen, then walk inside the building. There's simply one guard standing in the building, and he quickly leaves when I tell him that he's relieved. Three prisoners are in the cell, but I only need one. I point at one that's the teenagers size and tell him, "Step up to the bars.". When he does I get the keys (they were right beside the cell), open the door, and yank him out. When the door is slammed shut I yank out my knife, slit his throat, and take his clothes. Then, I point my gun at one prisoner and shoot her in the head. I turn to the last remaining prisoner and tell him, "Your buddy in there snatched a knife and slit this guy's throat. I shot the killer, removed the body of the victim, and took his clothes for evidence. Understand?". He quickly nods, terrified.
I leave as quickly as possible, our plan becoming extremely dangerous from here on out. The teenager quickly changes clothes. I can't help noticing a large scar across her stomach (as if from surgery), but I decide now isn't the time to question her about the scar. While she's changing I fiddle with my uniform. A black bulletproof vest with a few pockets, black bulletproof pants, black hiking boots, black gloves (damn, the designers apparently don't know any other color), a black helmet, and a black utility belt that has a thousand different pockets, tools, and zippers. When the teenager is dressed in her ragged shirt and pants I pull some handcuffs from my belt and cuff her hands behind her back. I tell her, "Look afraid, don't speak, and don't get separated from me.". The survivor nods and puts her head down, allowing me to walk her towards the north end of town by her shoulder. The only people out this late at night are guards, and they don't give me two looks. When we reach the transportation center I hesitate, but eventually go in. The transportation center is where official government vehicles enter and exit the city, the vehicles carry food, medicine, and prisoners. The roads are terrible, but most of the cars are built like tanks. Airplanes and helicopters are rarer (due to lack of trained pilots), but I see a few in the hangers. I even see a few boats jammed in a corner. But none of those reasons are why we're here.
I walk the woman near a exit center (areas where vehicles are ready to go, and where metal doors open to allow them to leave), and over to the official who controls the gate. He looks at us and instantly questions, "What in the hell are you doing?". I tap the woman on the shoulder and tell her, "One of Elisif's better spies, and her ransom has just been paid. Someone high up was suppose to bring her to New York, but somehow I got stuck with it.". He nods and simply says, "I ain't calling you a liar, but I need to see some ID.". I pretend to dig around in my pockets and belt, curse loudly, and tell him, "I left it in my locker. Come on, let me through. I don't want to head back. It's a simple prisoner transport.". He considers it, but tells me, "I really need some ID. These cars aren't cheap, and I need to know that you can drive one. And, an official needs to approve of these kinds of transfers.". I groan and keep begging, "Come on, I know how to drive one of these. Elisif said she wouldn't give us the money unless we got the prisoner to her in a week. That was four days ago, I'm on a tight schedule.". He sighs, considers it, then notices our backpacks. He asks about them and I answer, "Some food and shit the prisoner had. Elisif demanded everything the prisoner carried be returned to her. Security checked it and it's nothing bad. Now come on, I need to get this prisoner to New York.".
He groans, but tells me, "Be careful, and be back in four days. Now just give me the official report of the situation, and I'll give you the keys.". Damn, I forgot about a report, but an excuse comes quickly enough. I once again groan and tell him, "I wasn't given the report, my commander just gave me the prisoner. Please, just let me through! I'll be shot if I don't get this prisoner there in time.". He breathes in deeply, holds it, then lets it out in one violent burst. He hands me the keys and says, "Three days and no later, or I'm gonna shoot you when you get back.". I thank him repeatedly as I put the teen in the back of the armored car. When she's inside I lock the door, go to the driver's seat, and give the soldier a thumbs up. He unlocks the door, the gigantic metal screen sliding to the side. I slam my foot on the gas, the car speeding away from the city. I slow down when we're away from the city, slightly turn my body, and unlock the inside door to the prisoner's cell. The teen falls through the door and slams it shut behind her with her head, and when I lock it she sits beside me. Our bags are in the right seat, the teen is in the middle, and I'm in the driver's seat. I use one hand to take the cuffs off, and throw them to the side. The teenager rubs her wrists, then whispers, "We did it.". I smile and whisper back, "I guess we did.".
The teen lets out a noise of celebration, moves our bags to the floor, and lies down. Her legs are curled up, but her head still rests on my shoulder. I keep driving, the abandoned area ahead of me stretching on for miles. I groan when I realize I'll have to find a main road, and start heading to Missouri. I'll also have to siphon gas, but thankfully I have the stuff to do that. We drive well into the night, but I stop the car when I get tired. I lock the doors, rouse the teenager, and grab my pack from the floor. The teenager rubs her eyes, then seems to become extremely excited and says, "We did it!". I chuckle and tell her, "We did it a few hours ago, why are you suddenly so excited?". She pushes the bag out of my hands, takes my hands in hers, and shakes them as she excitedly tells me, "We don't have to stay in the city, we have a ton of supplies, and WE HAVE A FUCKING CAR!". I once again chuckle, but stop when the young teenager grabs my head. I'm about to ask her what the hell she's doing, but stop when she yanks my head forward and captures my lips in a kiss. I should pull back and tell the teenager never to do this again, but I can't bring myself to. It's been thirty years since I've kissed someone, and their lips were cracked and dried while the teen's are soft and plump. However, this also reinforces my idea that her stepmother might have used her. Even in the cities the children are taught that it's dangerous to romantically kiss people old enough to be their parents. Then, I ignore that as the survivor presses her lips harder against mine.
I allow the kiss to continue for a while, but eventually we break apart to properly take in air. I expect the teenager to say something, but she simply hugs me and asks, "What's for dinner?". I gulp down some air and tell her, "Canned meat and water.". She pulls back and starts digging around in her bag, handing me my canteen. I hand her some canned beef, but keep watching her face. I expect her to say something about kissing or what we just did, but she keeps focusing on her food. She swallows some beef and asks me, "What are we doing tomorrow?". I stop spooning my turkey and answer, "I'll just drive, try to find a road, and head to Missouri when we find a highway.". The teen looks confused and says, "Doesn't this thing have a GPS?". I nod, but tell her, "If I turn it on the city can track us. Right now they think we're heading for New York, but we're really heading to Canada. If they look for their missing car, they won't find it. And, I doubt they'll actually look for it. That would take time, effort, and money.". The woman nods in understanding, finishes her dinner, and adjust her seat so she's reclining. I finish my meal, turn off the car (carefully pocketing the keys), and adjust my seat. I'm nodding off when the teenager whispers, "I can't sleep in this position.". I blink my eyes open and ask, "Why?".
She tells me, "I'm not lying down.". I know exactly what she wants to do, so I tell her, "Get up.". We adjust our position so we're lying length wise of the car, her back pressed against my front. When we're lying down she recreates our position from the apartment, my hand coming to rest on her stomach. I'm reminded of her scar and whisper, "How did you get the scar on your stomach?". She grumbles out of her sleepy state and answers, "Hysterectomy and oophorectomy.". I nearly choke on air and ask, "How old are you?". She yawns and says, "Sixteen.". Sixteen and she's already had her ovaries and uterus removed. I slightly sit up and question her, "Why did you get those removed? Who performed the surgery? How are you not dead?". After the zombies started to take over, all medical cleanliness went out the window. And, technology and education has gone backwards, so it would be a miracle that any doctor could perform those surgeries without killing her. She once again yawns and asks if we can do this in the morning, but when I insist she sighs and answers, "I got it removed because I don't wish to bring a child into a world like the one we currently have, and the hospital offered me a free meal if I underwent the procedure. Some doctors from New York performed it. And, I almost did die. I got a really bad infection a few days after they removed my ovaries, but they gave me some medicine and I got through it.". All of this disgusts and surprises me, but I ask one last question.
"Why did the doctors do this without charging you?". She sleepily answers, "There was an overpopulation problem, so they asked some citizens to willingly have their ability to reproduce taken away. I was given a free meal, a few weeks in the hospital where they fed and housed me, and fifty bucks.". I realize that fifty bucks was what she used to get our supplies. I lie back down, put my hands back where they were, and tell her, "Good night.". She yawns for the hundredth time and answers, "Don't let the living dead bite.". I ignore her comment and shut my eyes, sleep claiming me.