Rain poured from the blackened sky as Ketchup stood beneath a peach tree. The heavy patter of rain drops against her leaf umbrella would have been calming in a different world.
Now, all it meant was that it would be harder for her to hear them coming.
At this point, ketchup couldn't remember how many days had passed since her world ended… but she could remember the faces. Every neighbor, every visitor — each one that she had to kill was burned into her mind, aching scars that she knew will never heal. The revolver in her spare hand was shaking. Was it due to the cold, she wondered, or was she slowly losing her grip on her gun like she had her life?
Ketchup was forced from her thoughts as a figure approached in the rain. The smiling red duck who ran through meadows with her arms raised was gone. Now when ketchup raised her arm, it was to point the barrel of the revolver at the approaching figure's head.
"One warning!" Ketchup called out. The figure paused, as if finally noticing there was someone ahead of them in the downpour. Ketchup knew there were only three options: a friend, a foe, or a third party entirely. Two of these options would leave either Ketchup or the figure in a body bag.
A stern voice replied. "Watch yourself, kid. If I was an enemy, you'd be dead by now."
Ketchup's arm relaxed. That was Fauna, alright. The deer approached, her tan dress splattered with blood. In one hand was her trusty shotgun, and in the other she held a heavy-looking brown duffel bag.
"Recon at the hall was a success," she muttered, scanning their surroundings. Ketchup looked her up and down in search of bite marks but was relieved to see none.
"Were there - ?"
"No," Fauna interrupted. The deer shook her head, scowling. "… No survivors. What about Delta team?"
"MIA," Ketchup replied. "Can't tell if that's a sign we sent them to the right place or the wrong one."
"Shit."
Fauna spat, turning towards the steps leading to the museum. Boards and barbed wire fences lined the perimeter of their makeshift base to deter intruders, and though she couldn't see them, Ketchup knew Raymond and Lucky were stationed by the entrance behind cover, ready and willing to blast any walkers that got past her. It was too risky having multiple people stationed outside of the barricade, but some days Ketchup still felt as though she was being sent to her death when she reported for duty.
Some days, she felt like that's why she took the job.
"I've seen too much death today," Fauna muttered, her voice trailing off at the end. She looked up at the sky, closing her eyes as the rain poured around them. "If Blathers isn't right about this package being worth it…"
"He will be," Ketchup interrupted. She reached out the hand carrying her umbrella so that the oversized leaf covered them both, then nodded her head towards the museum stairs. Fauna scowled, but complied. "He… He has to be."
Fauna shook her head, ascending the stairs under Ketchup's umbrella. "Must be nice to dream, kid… Must be nice to dream."
The two walked in silence towards their base, the tension cut by the drizzling rain. Ever since this began, Fauna had changed too much. They ALL had changed too much, as far as Ketchup was concerned, but Fauna had changed in particular. Ketchup never knew what to expect from the deer anymore. It scared her. What scared her more was the way that Fauna always survived every mission. Underneath that gentle demeanor, Fauna knew what it meant to live and die. She was no longer a prey animal. She was the predator.
"Pleasant day for a stroll, eh, my dears?"
Raymond peered out from behind the boards near the museum entrance, a rifle placed neatly through a slit in the wood and aimed directly at Fauna.
"Step aside, Raymond," she warned.
The cat's two differently colored eyes were fixated on the blood staining her dress. "Or you could toss that duffel bag our way and let the medics check you for infection."
"You can tell Blathers I'm not getting separated from this package. He opens it up with me, or he has one more threat to worry about outside of his museum."
Raymond's eyes squinted, and Ketchup got the distinct impression his tail was flicking back and forth behind him. Fauna rolled her eyes, then slowly turned in a circle on the spot. No bite marks.
"I did a preliminary inspection at the checkpoint. She looks clear," Ketchup confirmed. Raymond arched an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. The gate slowly opened for them.
"Well, then… Guess it may be our lucky day after all."
Lightning cracked overhead as they walked in the gate. Night was approaching, and fast. Ketchup nodded to Lucky. The bandaged dog was a sweetheart, but an injury shortly after the infection event left him mute. The dog nodded back at her, then went back to peering through the lens of his sniper rifle.
"Did you say it's our lucky day because I made it back?" Fauna asked, turning to face Raymond now that they were behind the safety of the gate. "If I didn't know better, litter box, I'd say you almost missed me."
Lucky clapped his hands, something he was prone to do when he found something funny. Raymond smirked. "I missed you today, my dear, but don't worry - my aim is getting better."
Fauna chuckled to herself. Ketchup couldn't help but think it was the first time she'd seen a smile in a while on the deer's face. Lucky began clapping once more.
"Where's the old owl at, anyway? I think he left some information out of my little mission."
A gun shot rang through the evening air.
Ketchup jumped in place, panicked, as she turned to see Lucky frantically positioning his rifle before pulling the trigger once more. She turned back to the gate, but the sight stopped her dead in her tracks.
"Son of a bitch," Raymond murmured. He lifted his gun to the slat in the boards and lined up his shot before joining in on the firing.
Clambering up the stairs were six villagers, their bodies mangled and flesh torn. In the darkness of the evening air, it was impossible to make out most of their features, but Ketchup could see the familiar blue-and-purple skin of a bear leading the pack.
Stitches.
The seams of his doll-like face had been ripped, stuffing spilling from his forehead. If he was with them, then —
"Oh God," Raymond murmured. "It's… It's Delta team."
"So much for luck, eh?" Fauna spat at the ground once more, cocking her shotgun. Stitches stumbled from the top of the stairs, lurching towards her with his ripped paws, only to be met with Fauna's shotgun blast to the chest. The doll-like Bear's body was knocked off its feet and sailed through the air, crashing into the mangled, bleeding frame of Tangy, the orange cat.
Ketchup wanted to do something. She wanted to help them. She wanted to run. She wanted to scream. She wanted to grab her gun. It was like a million possible actions were flowing through her head all at once, but no one was there to control her character. These weren't just zombies. These were her friends. These were -
SMACK.
Ketchup's cheek burned, a red hoofprint gracing the rain-wet skin. Fauna stared angrily into Ketchup's eyes.
"Listen to me. It doesn't matter who they were to you. They're gone now. And you DO - NOT - HESITATE!"
"I - I -"
Fauna slammed the brown duffel bag into Ketchup's chest, nearly knocking the wind out of her, before turning her back to the shaking fuck and readying her shotgun.
"Take that to Blathers. Tell him that I'm not finished with him yet. And whatever you do, don't ever let me see you freeze up again."
Ketchup stared down at the heavy duffel bag in her arms and the three survivors raining bullets upon their deceased comrades. At the gate entrance, she could see a solitary object on the ground - a flash of lightning made her realize it was Stitches' arm.
"You don't want to see what happens next, Kid," Fauna warned, blasting her shotgun into Ankha's collarbone. "We'll take it from here."
"O - Ok, I'll go find Blathers, and - "
"Oh, and kid?"
Fauna turned back to Ketchup briefly, a deadly look in her eyes punctuated by the splattered blood now adorning her cheeks.
"Whatever you do… Don't trust that owl."
