A Cruel, Undead World

~ Chapter 9 ~

Angels in Disguise

Tervu Infection Outbreak Active for: 0 Years, 0 Months, 3 Weeks, 2 Days, 21:27:57.

It was later in the morning, yet the fog hovered over the undead city of Tervu like a menacing omen. The survivors who were still trapped there had no idea about the rescue attempts; but it did them little right now for the fog was so thick by this time they had to take a break.

The group of four who left the refugee of an abandoned house missed a group of BSAA agents only by fourteen minutes.

They wondered still, having no clue where they were going in this thick cloud. An hour earlier, the four were in a heated debate: Salmon and Alex wanted to stay and wait it out, while Jasmine and Matt wanted to leave and search for family. Before you think them heartless, remember that Alex was homeless with nobody before this even began, and Salmon was detached from her family since she blamed them from the horrors she endured from her uncle whilst he lived there. Of course, the other two did not know this. In the end, Jasmine and Matt won, and they set out with only makeshift weapons they found scattered in the house.

Matt took the lead, handy pocket knife in one hand and a small pipe he managed to separate from the house foundation. He wasn't sure why he felt so compelled to protect these children—possibly just because of his kind-hearted nature. These thoughts never came through his head though, he was too modest to think such things, but settled with what he told himself before: his family has tools to survive this catastrophe while these kids don't.

Jasmine followed him closely, constantly looking around at the slightest of noise, holding a rusty machete close to her side. This would be the first time in the last three weeks she was allowed out and about. None of them had really left the safety of the home, but she was rarely out of the room they kept her in. She would like to think it was because they worried for her safety—deep down however she can't help wondering if it was more for her safety or their own. Jasmine won't lie to herself, the things she have endured has left her feeling wounded and hopeless. Even after surviving such a bite and not becoming one of them, she feels there is no more point in continuing. She's never felt this defeated before, since she is normally a competitive person, especially towards Life. Fear of turning into the infected haunts her dreams every night, and interrupts her thinking constantly. The only thing that is keeping her going is the thought of her parents. Her parents weren't even supposed to be here, they reside in Japan and had come down to visit their daughter. They shipped her here to her grandmother's house so she could have this 'opportunity' so many tell them about. Ironic that her fate is more than likely to be eaten or become the predator.

Alex and Salmon took up the rear, staying close to each other. He carried an axe in both hands, she held a frying pan.

Yes a frying pan.

When she picked this weapon from the house's kitchen, her new boyfriend raised his eyebrow in question.

"What? Being hit with one of these is a bitch." She explained. He chose at the time to not ask how she knew that.

The roads were hard to walk through, seeing as the fog was so thick. They were constantly tripping over sidewalks that would magically appear under their feet.

"Where do you think this fog came from?" Jasmine asked the company.

"If I had to guess, it has something to do with the virus." Matt speculated, only partially paying attention to the conversation. It was rare for them all to interact, for they mostly were too concerned about the overall wellbeing and next special infected appearance to say much. Plus, why would you strike up idle conversation during a zombie apocalypse?

Well, some people believe it's necessary. Like Alex.

"So…do you guys like music?"

Matt decided that question wasn't important to answer, and stayed quiet. Wanting to encourage this flow of chatter to ease her numbing thoughts, Jasmine revealed she liked techno.

"Really? I would have never seen you as a techno kind of person." Salmon scoffed. The other girl shrugged.

"I never really thought someone would want to be named 'Salmon' either."

"Yes..what is the secret behind that name?" Matt piped in.

"Her middle name is Salm." Alex enlightened him. "I was the one who gave her the nickname, and it just kind of stuck."

"I see…"

Salmon stayed quiet as they talked about her. Noticing the difference, Jasmine began to hang back. Her voice became quieter, but everyone in her company could still hear.

"You said before your real name was Therasia…why don't you like that name?"

"Too girly." She stated simply.

Jasmine didn't answer for a bit, then finally she said "Well I think it's a beautiful name."

Salmon didn't respond to that.

"Is that the apartment complex?" Matt asked suddenly, squinting his eyes at something in the distance. Once they walked a little further, they were able to confirm that it was in fact Breezy Villa Apartments. The sight beyond those bars disgusted them: piles upon piles of the dead with mindless infected walking among them.

"I just realized…we haven't needed to fight a single infected this entire time…" Alex pointed out. As if the words jinxed them, they heard a loud gurgling noise. The four looked at each person, wondering if it was one of them. Un-expecting, they were suddenly rained upon by acid. All four yelled in pain as they fiercely tried to wipe the acid away. Alex fell to the ground, catching most of it in the face. He clawed at the liquid that was lightly yet painfully burning his face. Jasmine freed her eyes of the burning liquid and looked down to see her blue pleated miniskirt literally melt away. Luckily, under the miniskirt she wore black leggings, but she was embarrassed all the same. She looked up to see the cause of the destruction of her garment, finding a truly hideous infected who had nothing but an oversized mouth in the center of its face. Fuming, she crossed the distance between her and the infected, swinging her machete so viciously the limbs fell to the ground as it was separated from the torso. It wailed in pain, before its head was neatly yet gruesomely removed from its neck. Blood landed on Jasmine, but it didn't seem to bother her as much as she used to think it would. Turning back, she didn't look up at the group until she was among them, but was surprised to see their shocked faces.

"What?"

"Do you know how fast you just ran?" Matt stuttered. She thought back, but shook her head, not having thought of the movement. "You were gone in a flash, we didn't even know you were gone until we heard that zombie!"

"Oh…" she murmured. Luckily, the attention switched from her to Alex, who was still in anguish. The other two knelt down as Salmon grabbed some medical supplies out of a backpack she had been wearing, put together at the house before they left. Jasmine turned away from them.

This was the first time she was really noticing how the bite affected her, not just emotionally but physically. Before, with her anemia, walking long distances wasn't the easiest. Now she didn't even break a sweat or needed to stop to gasp for air. She wondered what exactly the infection was doing to her body, and the thought of it made her shudder in fear and, strangely, excitement.

"Who's there?" they heard out of the blue—or more specifically, gray. Even though they knew the voice was not of an infected, they tensed at the sound. This new voice was unfamiliar to them, thus could be dangerous. Jasmine silently walked towards where they heard the voice. Making sure the three of them were still in sight, she walked a few steps ahead, until finally she could see a young man make his way toward her. She opened her mouth to say something when she saw a shimmer of silver upon her, and before she could realize it, a new machete stuck in between her shoulder blades.

The world turned white all of a sudden for her. She wasn't able to breathe momentarily. Matt cried out, and without thinking ran toward the man and pushed him back, causing the machete to pull cleanly out of the new wound. Jasmine stumbled a bit before Matt grabbed on to her and began to lay her down. Seeing their moving mouths, she could no longer hear what they were saying. The man who stabbed her walked forward with a look of pure shock, his disheveled black hair highlighting his fearful light green eyes. Her eyes closed slowly, the fog swallowing her vision.

Michael had been sitting in the corner for the last three hours now, blaming and cursing himself over and over again. He shouldn't have let her guard down, and because of it, Jodie was more than likely going to die.

But…she hasn't yet. This surprised him. Everyone that encountered an infected or the infectious air turned almost immediately. After he patched her up and the bleeding stopped once he brought her back to the storage room, she was still just as human as either him or Maja. To say the least, Maja was not at all pleased to see the condition of her best friend when they returned. She screamed every insult she knew at Michael, even while he scrambled to try and save Jodie. Now Maja just sat silently, surprisingly not having said anything about the fact she was in pain that was increasing in intensity, and merely stroked Jodie's hair over and over. Having convinced himself she was better off if he stayed away, Michael kept his distance. Now however, something was beginning to boil inside him; those damned infected were the ones who did this, they are just as much to blame. He sat festering for a few, before he could take it no longer and stood up, picking up his pipe. As he was opening the door, Maja called out to him, and asked where he was going. He hesitated, not knowing what to tell her.

Finally, he told her "I need to clear my head."

Without waiting for some sort of response (though he didn't expect her to tell him to stay, for he was sure she was still pissed at him), he slid through the crack he made and shut the door behind him.

Where he was going, he had no idea. All he knew was what and why. To kill those fuckers, because they hurt someone he cared about.

Really cared about.

He shook those thoughts from his head and started walking down the narrow strip of hallway toward an elevator, mindlessly slamming his pipe down on some of the more mindless and lazy infected. The elevator had stopped working for no apparent reason about a week in there hole-up. So imagine Michael's surprise when he glanced at it to see the lights on and the door open. Curiosity overwhelmed him as he walked to it, inspecting it up and down. It seemed to be working. Feeling crazy and almost suicidal, he decided to test it out. He stepped inside and pushed up. The doors glided shut and to his annoyance, the elevator music was activated. When the doors opened again, he was pleased for only a moment, because mere yards in front of him was a horde of zombies. To his disbelief, they weren't attacking him-and it took him a while to realize that was because they were attacking some other, non-infected person.

The man had black hair, and from what Michael could see, blood red eyes. He wore garments he couldn't recognize, but even as some infected bit him, didn't seem to make a scratch on him. He looked only slightly older than himself. He grabbed one infected by the arm and threw him at a couple on his side, then with his now free hand, shot with his P226 pistol at some that were closing in on him. It only took seconds for him to put a bullet through the rest of them, his aim dead on at the head. His gun fell on Michael, and instinctively he put his hands up.

"I'm not one of them!" he shouted. Convinced, the man lowered his gun. He looked over the other.

"Good, I was wondering when I would see more survivors." he chatted, his voice remaining at a serious tone. Michael timidly nodded in agreement. Holstering his gun, the man held out his hand.

"Rick. Rick Walker."

"Michael…" he took his hand and shook it briefly before letting go. "I was honestly beginning to think I wouldn't find anyone else…"

"In these situations, there's always others." Rick stated coolly. Michael raised an eyebrow, already beginning to suspect he would not like this fellow.

"You've been through something like this before, I take it?" Rick shrugged.

"Once. You?" he asked him but Michael didn't think he was very interested in hearing the answer. Nevertheless, he replied.

"I've been through the run a few times, yeah." He didn't notice until now that his hands were fists.

"Are there more of you?" Rick asked, this time with more urgency. Michael nodded. "Good, take me to them."

"Come again?"

"Our chances of survival will increase with more people. Besides, I probably know more about combat then you have knowledge of your own body. Let's get a move on it, before they catch our scent." As the man walked toward where Michael came, Michael instantly began to regret satisfying his curiosity.

A/N: Finally! Chapter Nine! I apologize over and over for it being super-duper late but life can be demanding at times. I hope you all feel better now. Chapter ten will still be posted this Friday as promised!

I'm not sure how many read my profile, but I am still interested in doing a new cover picture featuring all the inputted characters for those with submissions that are interested too. For more details, there's something about it on my profile page under one of the updates.