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37: Honesty and Remorse

When the sun came up I threw on my work clothes and took a long look in the mirror. There I was, still the same besides the layer of blood, dirt, and sweat that covered my skin. I'd have to get a shower in tonight. As I looked at that reflection I felt the self-hatred return. So what if my body was fighting the infection. That's what bodies do. That's just the way we were designed. I wasn't special. I wasn't immune. I was just a freak with too many white blood cells. On my walk down the creaky wooden steps I felt completely alone. Where the last two days I was obsessed with why I wasn't dead yet, today the excitement was gone. I wasn't hungry. When I poured the newly opened cereal into the bowl I nearly gagged. Something about it disgusted me. "I can't over eat anymore," I returned the contents back to the box, thinking of the feast I had last night. I had been happy in those moments, and I can't remember why. If I wasn't going to die, then what would happen to me? I'd be alone, and anyone who I met wouldn't understand. They'd see the wound, how obvious it was there on my arm, and they'd think I had the cure. That's what I would think if I saw a bite victim still alive. That would complicate things. I took another sample of my blood to observe throughout the day. At first glance I could already tell the sample looked different from yesterday, but I couldn't put my finger on it. "I'll look at it more closely tonight," I reassured myself before heading out for my real task. My real task, piling up the walkers. I pulled out the wheelbarrow and went about my work, searching the bodies for wallets, or other identifying items, anything that might of meant something to them. Before I leave this place I'll give them a proper apology. I'd put the personal items in a bag I carried with me, then the body would go in the pile. It was a long process, but it seemed important. They seemed more important now; it was strange how that changed. Here I was, so close to being just like them, but I'm not. For whatever reason I was spared. I was alive, able to continue with my plans to go on the road and save people. Able to continue my idealistic quest to even the score, to make a difference.

I had a few hours of daylight left after I had finished, and I decided it might be nice to do a small hunting run. Get out of the fence for a while. I grabbed my bow and keys and practically ran to the forest, the idea of freedom bringing a bit of yesterday's happiness back. Once I was under the cover of the trees I focused in on the sounds. No noise from the generator, no streams, just silence. At first it was nice, but then my mind wandered. As I quietly paced the soft ground, looking for tracks or anything moving in the distance, I tried my hardest not to think of him. Trying but failing. I mean we weren't even really that close, now that I thought of it. I knew almost nothing about him, and not for want of trying. He had been there for me, though. More than most people would have been. So there was something there, for me at least, and isn't that what matters? I stopped and took a sip from my canteen; I missed them. More than I should. The more I walked the more I missed them. When I leave the house I should try to at least figure out where they are, maybe keep an eye on them. Maybe keep tabs on them so when next spring comes I can pop in easy. At least I want to check and make sure they're safe. I wonder how they'll react when they see I've been bitten?

Then I smelt it.

The most heavenly aroma in the entire world.

I could feel my mouth starting to water. "What is that smell?" I whispered to myself as I followed my nose, arrow in place. The smell got stronger as I moved, which only caused my feet to move quicker. Maybe there's a nearby camp cooking dinner? Maybe it's the old group? I kept my pace until the smell became so intoxicating that my stomach growled at me. I had to be close. I had to be close by now. I kept a lookout for nearby fires, but saw nothing. Nothing. No sign of life. Not until I caught a glimpse of a black bear to the east.

Shit.

Shit.

Survive all this time, even a fucking bite, just to be mauled by a bear.

I stood still, wanting to retreat to safety, but I couldn't. It might have been fear, or that scent, but either way I couldn't move. I needed to find whatever it was that smelled so good. As if on cue a soft breeze traveled through the trees from the direction of the beast. The wind carried the delicious fragrance. "That can't be where the scent was coming from," I whispered. That couldn't be it. Bears don't smell like that, do they? Animals don't smell like that. They smell like fur and earth. A stronger gust came through, and with it my doubts flew.

It was the bear.

It was the fucking bear, and it smelled like the most amazing meal ever was just waiting for me. I can't though. I can't take down that thing, regardless of its fragrance. I lowered my bow, putting the arrow back in the quiver with a sigh. I could take the beast down, easy. I could but I couldn't. Firstly, there was no way I could haul it to the house. Not by myself. Second, something about all of this felt wrong. The appetizing odor coming from the creature made me feel uncomfortable. A sudden turn of my stomach brought a heave from my gut. "I need to get back," I turned and began the short trek to the gate, this time making sure to lock it.