Chapter 2 - The 0.1 Percent
The downpour had turned into drizzle, and Tamsin left the restaurant. She had her backpack filled with bottled water, can food and medical supplies. It was heavy but she knew she needed them on the road.
It was still dark outside. She figured that it must be long before dawn, around 2am maybe. She would love to check the time on a watch to confirm that guess, but she had none. Who needed a watch in the zombie apocalypse anyway? It wasn't like she was going to school or work, or rushing to a date or anything. For the past ten years she had been getting up when it was bright outside, going to bed when it was too dark to do anything, and doing things whenever she needed to. Time didn't matter to her like it once had been, and maybe it never would matter to her again.
Inhaling the misty air, she walked down along the street, heading to the interstate.
It was deadly quiet. Every time she took a short break, the silence embraced her, as if everything and everyone was gone and she was the only person alive in the entire world.
Loneliness invaded her heart, like the mist invading her clothes. The only thing that accompanied her in the darkness, was the tiny, pale star appearing at the edge of the clouds. Its light was so faint, like a dying man's last breath.
When the dawn finally arrived, she started to see lined up, abandoned cars on both sides of the road she was on. The closer she was to the interstate, the more cars she saw. Most of them were empty, with their doors open, like whoever had been inside had grown tired of waiting in the traffic so they had left on foot.
Some of the cars, though, had their glasses broken or their doors forced open. They had been sitting there for too long, and the rain had washed everything clean. However, Tamsin could still see the stained fabric on the seats. Blood had soaked them and it wasn't possible for the rain to make it go away like it had never been there.
She knew exactly what had happened to them, or to whoever had been sitting in them. The zombies must have attacked them while their cars had been stuck in the traffic. The flesheaters must have broken into the cars, dragged the passenger out, and devoured them.
She sighed as she scanned the area around her in reflex. It was all empty now, except a few deers in the distant field. They stared at her curiously, before they disappeared behind the bushes.
Tamsin kept walking, until she arrived at a gas station that was very close to the entrance ramp of the interstate.
She decided to take a short break there, stepping over the gas pump nozzles that had fallen on the ground before entering the store.
She found nothing useful in there. It was completely empty, except the fallen shelves, empty refrigerators and all kinds of trash. In the corner there were some old sheets and several dirty, half torn mattresses. Beside them there were a few pieces of old furniture, and they were all empty too. She saw no personal belongings, so she assumed that whoever had taken this place as a shelter must have left a long time ago.
She walked to one of the pumps and sat down beside it. Scanning the surroundings again, she took out a bottle of water and some food. She started to eat her breakfast of a small pack of crackers and some meat jerkies she had brought with her. She battled with one particular hard, dry jerky piece, pulling one end of it with her hand and the other with her teeth. Eventually she was able to tear it apart and eat it. As her jaws starting to get sore, she told herself that next time when making meat jerky she should never make them this dry again. After swallowing all the meat, she opened a can of fruit and inhaled everything in the can.
She tossed the empty can away from her, and finished the last bit of the water in the bottle. She put the empty bottle back into her backpack, and left the gas station.
Before she entered the entrance ramp, she paused to glance at the road sign there.
The number of the interstate in the center was covered by a big sheet of metal made from flattened aluminum cans. On it someone had written informations of a nearby settlement location with permanent markers. There was even a simple map in the corner telling people how to go there. She sighed at the map, because she knew that that settle had been wiped by zombies two years ago. Only a handful of survivors had been able to get out and tell the horrible story.
She rubbed her nose with the back of her right hand, and checked the directions on the road sign.
The right part of it told her that she needed to turn right immediately to go to Creeksville, and the left told her that the ramp ahead was to go Madison.
Under the name of "Creeksville", there was a red skeleton sign drawn by paint, partly washed out. She stared at the hollow eyes of the skeleton for a second or two, before she turned right immediately.
She maneuvered around the cars that was blocking her way as she walked. When she got on the interstate, she saw miles of cars lining up along both directions. Some of them had run over the roadblocks, while some had run into each other.
She turned around a school bus as she watched how its front end had crashed into a compact. Then, she checked her map, and decided to take detour through the woods on the side of the road since it started to get hot.
The moment she stepped into the woods, she was welcomed by swarms of mosquitos and the able-to-kill-anything-alive humidity. Though it still felt better, since the trees generously provided shades for her.
Soon the sweat started to streak down her face, her neck and her back, soaking her clothes and her hair. Occasionally, a drop of sweat or two slid down along her forehead, went through the barrier formed by her brows and eyelashes, and entered her eyes. It stung, forcing her tears out, blurring everything.
After a few hours, she arrived at a creek, and she decided to take a lunch break.
She scanned the surroundings first as usual, and after having seen no threats, she sat down against a tree beside the creek, and put down her backpack.
She rubbed her sore shoulders, feeling every single piece of her skin burning, either because of the heat or pain. She leaned forward, cupping some cool clear water before spraying it on her face. She gasped in great satisfaction, and did it again.
Then, she took off her boots and her socks, before she put her feet into her water. It felt so great that she just wanted to stay here forever.
She stared at the clear, inviting liquid, desperately wanting to gulp it, down it, and let it run down her throat. However, she knew well about the waterborne parasites and she had no intention of inviting any one of them into her system.
You must boil the water before you drink it when you are in the wild, kid. That familiar voice ringed in her mind. You think there's any hospital for you to go to when you get sick?
She let out a deep breath and stood up. After putting on her boots she started to gather tree branches and twigs. Then she made a fire.
Untying the big stainless steel mug from the strap of her backpack, she immersed it into the creek and filled it with water. She boiled it, and cooled it down by putting the mug into a place in the stream where the water was shallow.
While waiting, she drank her last bottled water. Then, she took out all the empty bottles she had kept in her backpack, and started to filled them with the water she had just cooked.
After all bottles were filled, she ate her lunch, which included a can of luncheon meat and half a mug of mush made by crushed hard tack and boiled water. The bland tasted bored her, and she had to picture a pot of fresh stew with juicy meat and fresh vegetables while eating.
After downing her mush, she washed her mug and cooked more water to drink. Waiting for it to cool down, she checked her map. She was thrilled to find out that the creek would run a long way along her route. It would keep her hydrated, and maybe provide some fish for her. And if she had to hunt, it was always easier to find animals around the water.
She estimated the rest of her journey carefully, realizing that she would arrive at her destination in less than three days. If she could find the things she had come all the way for, she could be back to the small community she was living right now in ten days.
Then, she would trade the things with the grumpy, old bar owner for things she wanted.
Wanted. She thought about the word and she almost laughed, because want was a luxury she couldn't afford now. Her life had took a big turn ten years ago, and everything in it had changed so drastically, that she was in no place to want anything anymore. The only things in her life were the things she had to have so she could survive. No more pretty clothes or cool laptops. The things that were important to her right now, were things like antibiotic cream, AA batteries, or a box of tampon, things that she had never think of looking twice ten years ago.
She closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh, before she closed her map and put it back. Then she resumed her journey.
The setting sun rendered everything in a golden sheen, and Tamsin decided to take a dinner break when she had arrived at an RV parking place outside the camp area of a state park, with two dozens of RVs parking inside.
In front of her, four motorhomes and two trailers formed a loose circle with a carefully built fire pit in the center. One of the RVs had its small outside kitchen open, however the little fridge had only decayed food inside.
From the cobwebs that covered the doors and the windows, the foliage covering the fire pit and the top of the vehicles, and the flat, rusty tires, she knew this campsite had been abandoned for quite a while now.
She looked at the vehicles, one after another, wondering if she should go check the inside of them and look for anything that was useful. Before she had made a decision, she heard something tumbling inside one of the vehicles that was in the far corner of the parking place.
She paused as she drew her falchion out. It was then she heard a hum of low growls.
Approaching that vehicle in stealth, Tamsin had her breath held and her blade up. When she arrived at the cracked open door, she pressed her back against the outside of the trailer and inched forward to the door.
She heard growls coming from inside. The growls of a hungry, provoked zombie. She also caught a strong, rotten zombie smell in the air with a hint of the smell of fresh blood leaking through the crack.
Taking a deep breath, she held the door handle and jerked it open.
A startled zombie turned to her. His blackened teeth parted, and a warning hum came out. He was small, a child when he had been turned. He still had a backpack on his back, and the green dinosaur pattern on it was covered in dried blood, dirt and goo.
He growled again and crawled towards Tamsin cautiously, the flesh on his right forearm gone. A friendship bracelet loosely hung around his waist bones, coated in blackened, thick fluid.
He hissed at Tamsin, before he pounced at her.
The blonde turned her torso, slamming her knee into the zombie's face, kicking his to the side. He fell, and growled furiously. He dashed towards her on all fours, but before he could touch her, Tamsin dodged to the right, and slashed her falchion at his neck.
She chopped his head off, and after twitching for a second or two, he stopped moving.
Tamsin cautiously approached the trailer again. She quietly entered it through the door, tightly holding her weapon.
In the trailer, she saw three zombies lying on the floor, all with their heads smashed. Behind them, there was a brunette lying. She had a baseball bat in her right hand, and was covered in zombie goo. Fresh blood painted the lower part of her gray tank top scarlet, and she had her eyes closed. She wasn't moving at all.
As Tamsin approached her, she saw a fresh bite mark on her stomach. It was smaller than those she had usually seen, possible from the child zombie she had just killed.
"Sucks to be you," she murmured and reached to checked the brunette's pulse with her left hand. Her right hand hold her falchion up.
The moment her fingers touched the side of the woman's neck, the brunette gasped sharply and opened her eyes. She immediately held her bat up, about to swing it at Tamsin.
"Whoa, whoa, easy. The place where I came from, we don't greet people with baseball bats, okay?" Tamsin said as she grabbed the bat in her hand, forcing it to stop.
The brunette didn't find her joke funny, though. She just panted hard while struggling to pull her bat out from Tamsin's hand. Then she noticed the pain from her stomach. She lowered her head, looking at herself.
When she saw the bite marks on her lower abdomen, she trembled. She swallowed hard and raised to look at Tamsin again. Her lips quivered. She wanted to say something but unable to get a single word through the lump in her throat.
She lifted her tank top a little with her shaking hands, and got a clearer view of the blood oozing bite marks. Tears blurred her vision. She tried to wipe the blood off with her hand, but only made it messier.
"Here," Tamsin threw a clean towel she had just found in the cabinet inside the trailer. She took out a tube of antibiotic cream and threw it to the brunette too.
The other woman closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then she wiped her wound clean. She handed the tube back to Tamsin, murmuring a "thanks" to her which sounded more like a whimper. She held the tube and opened the cap, but paused there, thinking there was no way in hell it would help her situation at all.
She eventually applied a thick layer of the cream on her wound, though, since the firm look in the blonde's eyes encouraged her to do so.
A brief moment of silence devoured both women. Tamsin was watching the brunette closely, feeling that the despair in her eyes was killing her. Like a thin strand of string it slowly strangled her heart. The brunette was staring at her injury, shaking.
Tamsin sat down, a few feet away from the brunette. She observed the brunette for a while, before she said, "so, have you heard of the stories of the Point One Percent?"
The brunette shook her head in reflex, too focused on her wound to listen.
"You know, when people get bitten by flesheaters, they turn," Tamsin continued, and the other woman immediately flinched at the word "turn".
The blonde sighed. She ran her thumb on the edge of her blade and went quiet for a while. Then she continued, "well, there are those who just won't turn. Immune to the damn zombie virus or whatever. That's how we call them. The Point One Percent."
Hope flashed in the brunette's brown eyes. She opened her mouth, wanting to ask Tamsin if that was true, but was too afraid to get a negative answer. She observed the blonde's face, looking for any signs that might indicate what she had just said was just a bad joke.
"Don't look so happy," Tamsin told her. "Even if you were the 0.1 percent, they can still eat you alive."
The woman merely managed a nod, before she bit back a groan. Then she pressed her hand on her wound and screamed "ah!"
She pressed her hand on her wound hard, unable to believe that such a small wound would give her so an excruciating pain.
She swallowed her second scream down, and bit her bottom lip hard. Throwing her head back, she scooted back to press her back against the couch. The pain was too much for her to bear, and she started to groan, yell and scream.
"That's your body deciding whether it like the idea of becoming a flesheater or not," Tamsin said calmly, though the painful tears in the brunette's eyes made her voice soft. She stood up and headed to the door. "Enjoy."
"Wait..." The brunette reached her left hand out at her, her voice trembling.
Tamsin rolled her eyes and turned to her. "What?"
She thought the brunette would beg her to help her, or at least beg her to stay with her, but the other woman just struggled to take a small photo out from her pocket.
"Please..." the brunette squeezed the word out, before she threw her head back and screamed again.
Tamsin frowned and took a glance. She saw two women in the photo, young, at most 18. She recognized one of them as the brunette in front of her. She had no idea who the other dark hair woman was.
"Please...need to...find her," the brunette pleaded again, her voice a slur. "She's-"
She stopped abruptly, losing control of her body all of a sudden. She lolled, falling down to the floor. Her body started to twitch, her limbs waving back and forth as if she was swimming on her back. Then her chest arched away from the floor hard, like someone was forcing her up with an invisible string.
After a few seconds, she stopped moving and fell back down to the floor with her eyes closed. If it wasn't for her shallow, weak breath, Tamsin would think that she was dead.
The blonde let out a deep sigh, torn between leaving and staying. She eventually sat back down, staring closely at the brunette.
Tamsin felt like she was floating in the darkness, her head pounding in pain. The reality and her nightmares were a scary blend, and for a very long time she couldn't tell if she was awake.
She pried her eyes open and struggled to sit up, but she was too weak to even prop herself on her elbows.
She lay back down, panting, realizing that she was soaked in sweat. She licked her lips. They were so dry that she could taste her own blood seeping through the cracks.
She felt herself burning, like she was in a furnace. And the next minute, she was freezing. She shivered hard, embracing herself, panting.
The hot and cold lasted forever. Every time she had her eyes open, she saw Acacia's face. Her vague, blurry face.
"Burning is good." Acacia's voice came to her, distant. "If you were to turn, you wouldn't be having a fever."
She felt a hand firmly but gently pressing on her forehead. It comforted her, and she sank into her nightmares again.
Tamsin opened her eyes, waking up to the bright moonlight and the groaning, squirming brunette.
The other woman's gray tank top had been ruffled up during her struggles, revealing those hideous bite marks. They looked like tiny black holes under the moonlight, however Tamsin was relieved to find a light purplish pink edging the wounds.
With another groan, the brunette opened her eyes a little. She swallowed hard and turned to Tamsin, her lips moving but no words coming out from them. She panted as she wrapped her arms around her own body in cold shivers.
"Burning is good." Tamsin told her in a soft voice. Maybe too soft for her liking. "If you were to turn, you wouldn't be having a fever."
The brunette looked a little surprised, and confused. Tamsin just gave her a bitter smile.
The other woman squirmed again for a few seconds, and then she passed out again.
The brunette eventually woke up to the bright sun, feeling drained. She struggled to feel her own heartbeat, and was both thrilled and relieved that it was still there.
Slowly she raised herself on her elbows, then she sat up and checked her injury.
It had stopped bleeding. The edge of the bite marks had turned into a purplish pink color. She started to panic again, for the color was too weird for a healing wound.
"Congratulations," the blonde's voice came to her, though it was too bland. "You got a fuchsia mark."
The brunette looked at her confused, wanting to ask her what it was but too weak to actually say her words.
"For someone who doesn't know shit about the dominant race that currently rules this planet, it's fascinating that you've last this long," Tamsin commented. She then threw the brunette a bottle of water. The other woman couldn't catch it and the water hit the floor.
The brunette leaned forward slowly, reaching for the bottle. Eventually she was able to roll it towards herself and pick it up. She tried a few times, before she finally opened it and started to drink. The water seemed to have energized her enough, and she asked with a husky, low voice. "Fuchsia mark?"
Tamsin shrugged. "You know, one of the fancy names people have given to zombie bite marks. If it turns fuchsia, you are fine. If it turns pale, you'll turn."
The brunette nodded. She tilted her head back slightly while slowly raising the end of the water bottle, letting the cool liquid run down her throat. After she finished the whole bottle, she put the cap back and fastened it.
She leaned to her side, putting half of her weight on her left hand while searching for a trash can. When she heard a light scoff from the blonde, she huffed out a light laugh at herself too. Who would care if she didn't threw the bottle into a trash can or not right now?
She placed the empty bottle a few inches away from her, and shifted into a more comfortable sitting position. After staring at the blonde for a while, she asked, "where are you heading to?"
"Somewhere too dangerous for someone like you?" Tamsin murmured while checking every locker and drawer inside the trailer for anything useful.
"I'm Bo," the brunette introduced herself as she withdrew her legs and tried to stand up. Slowly she straightened her body, with her right elbow pressing against the small table beside her.
"And I'm leaving," Tamsin said, zipping her backpack after finding nothing that would interest her.
The brunette, Bo, seemed to be too busy keeping herself on her legs to feel offended. She let out a few vague groans and she forced herself to stand straight. "I'm...heading to Creeksville."
Her destination surprised Tamsin. "Creeksville? Seriously?"
The brunette nodded. "Hey," she said with a gentle smile on her face. "If you are heading to the same direction or something, we can team up and-"
"No, thanks. I don't do team-ups," Tamsin interrupted her. "And bye."
"Hey! What's your name?"
Tamsin rolled her eyes. "Tamsin."
With that, she left the trailer, leaving the frowning, weak brunette behind.
A/N: So now Bo is immune to zombies bites (Tamsin is too), which I think is reasonable for the human race to have a small portion of the population immune to the zombies. And this would make things more interesting. I will introduce more about the current world, Tamsin's past, Bo's past, the dark hair girl in the photo (who everyone should know who she is by now lol).
I probably will introduce more LG characters into the story later on. xxoo