Chapter Thirty
“We’ll call these behavioral anomalies ‘supraneural episodes’. There appears to be a relationship between glial cell consumption and intellect retention in the infected, but we need more data to determine cofactors.”
“What the hell are we gonna do if these ‘episodes’ don’t go away?”
“Pray, General, because only God could save us then.”
–Dr Ava Sherman. Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado. 2 Months After.
* * *
Oh God, she thought. Not Shannon too!
Leah brushed the sweat from her red, curled hair and did another lap around the restaurant, gripping the pistol she’d stolen with shaking hands. Her heart raced as more gunshots echoed. Where the hell was the government in all this? Reno was burning!
Another car crashed nearby, followed by another agonizing scream, and Leah buried her face in the burgundy scarf she’d been given. It was a gift from her mother after the engagement was official. Again, she wanted to cry. What happened to Greg was still too fresh.
Knocks hit the window. “Is anyone in there!?”
Leah ducked behind a booth. Please, just go away!
“We should keep moving,” another decided, his tone hushed. “What if there’s another of those things in there?”
Leah knelt an inch lower, praying that they’d leave them alone. Of course when the apocalypse hit, she’d end up trapped at work, wearing her fucking uniform, name tag and all. At least she’d been promoted to assistant manager before this mess. There was no way in or out of the restaurant without the keys they’d given her, and she’d strapped them right onto her name tag where they couldn’t get lost.
“Let’s just kick it in,” the first looter said.
If they got in the restaurant… If they saw what had happened to Shannon…
“No!” Leah screamed as she stepped into the open. “Stay back!”
It was just a couple of guys her age. They threw their hands in the air at the sight of the gun.
“Please,” one said. “We have to get off the street.”
“You can’t come in here,” Leah decided, more firmly.
“We’ll die if we stay out here. For the love of God, let us in! We won’t hurt you, I swear.”
His buddy suddenly turned away from both. His eyes widened, and he flicked his friend on the head. “Run!”
They broke into a sprint.
That terrible, heart-wrenching moan bellowed again. A sick man wandered into view, stumbling after the guys. Leah lunged into cover before she could be seen herself. The moaning dwindled.
This was too much. First Greg, then Lucy, then Ricardo. They had all been at the house just last night, trying to ride out the lockdown in style. And then they were gone. Like that! Only Shannon survived, but she’d been hurt too.
Leah took a deep breath and went for the storeroom. Her best friend lay where she’d been left.
Shannon looked so delicate. Her straight black hair was still tied in a bun, and her beautiful blue eyes were closed. With the rags wrapped around her injured face, there was no way to see the damage that’d occurred to her mouth, but it was bad.
Leah had warned Shannon not to help that woman. She’d told her that it was a bad idea, and that they didn’t know if she’d be sick or not. But Shannon always was a stubborn soul, and had a habit of making the worst decisions during even the best of days. How many times had Leah bailed her out now?
Not that she minded. Everyone else thought that Shannon was a loser. That she’d never make anything of herself. That she was a lost cause. But Leah knew the truth. She knew the kind, soft-hearted spirit beneath, even if Shannon could be so goddamned difficult at times. Who could blame her though, after what she’d dealt with growing up. No one else knew her like Leah.
Suddenly, Shannon stirred. Leah almost let out a breath of relief, but then Shannon moaned in pain and her eyes opened. They were white. They were empty.
They were sick.
Leah withdrew a step. “No… Not you too, Shannon. Please, snap out of it!”
But Shannon rose to her feet like she was controlled by puppet strings. The rags fell carelessly to the side, with the wound that’d ripped her face apart now exposed. She hissed, blood spilling from her ruined mouth.
Leah closed her eyes and pressed the barrel of the gun into the side of her head. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t see this happen to Shannon too. They’d gone through so much together, and there was no one else left. With her gone too, what the hell was there to live for!?
But Leah pulled the trigger too late. She squeaked. Shannon was atop her. Biting. Scratching. Gnawing on her face. And there was nothing she could do…
* * *
Leah opened her eyes. Her vision was blurred and her mind was slow in getting back to focus. Dust was in the air, and the sun was high above. Had she been knocked out?
Then she heard the distinctive hiss of a hollow, and lurched straight up. There was no one else around, but she recognized the bottom floor of the building she’d used as overwatch. Well, half the building, anyway. Something had hit the second floor hard enough to wreck the place.
The memory bled back in as Leah rubbed her head. It wasn’t until the last moment that she’d seen Xander driving up with an RPG. She’d been too focused on getting Liam out…
Another hollow moaned. Can’t think of that now. Hollows were wandering aimlessly outside, with a few studying Leah curiously. She closed her eyes and hissed back, using the impression she’d cultivated over the years to throw them off. The hollows went back to their shuffling.
Leah tried to grab some debris for support, but realized her right arm ended before the elbow. It took another second to spot where the rest had landed, on the ground and severed not far away.
Ugh. Not again. Leah used her other arm for support and limbered to her feet. One leg dragged uselessly behind the other, as the muscles in it had been shredded by shrapnel. It would take a hell of a lot of time to get herself moving again correctly.
Leah drew her black steel combat knife, snatched up her severed arm, and made for the street. It was time to move.
* * *
So hungry. Needed more food.
She’d eaten most of the meat. Started with the head. Worked down from there. But then it tasted bad. Something wrong. Red cloth in her mouth. Not meat. She spit out red cloth. Needed more. Needed flesh.
Noises. Voices. Close. She rose again to her feet and went for the noise. Her face hit the wall and then glass. Noise was so close.
There was a truck outside. People too. Fresh meat everywhere. So many… Some with guns. Didn’t matter. Needed to eat.
She scratched the window and hissed.
“For the love of God, think of what you’re doing!” one said. He was fat. White shirt and black tie. So much meat.
“We really doing this, sir?” another said. Smaller. Leaner. Camouflage shirt. But still fresh.
“Got no choice,” another said, also camouflaged. “Don’t know how many more could be infected.” She noticed his arm. It was red. Bloody. She moaned and scratched the window again. So close…
“You can’t do this,” fat man said. “This is murder!”
“You should’ve thought of that before you hid one of them!” bleeding man said.
“She was my wife!”
“…Fuck this!”
Camouflage men started shooting. Noises. Screams. Everyone dropped.
Then blood. Blood, everywhere! She wailed and banged her fist against the window. So close. So much. So hungry!
Camouflage men got in truck. Drove off. Nobody left alive. Only meat. So much flesh!
She slammed her head against window. Didn’t break. Scratched harder. Didn’t break. So hungry. Needed food.
She wandered in circle. Needed exit. Needed escape from room. Had to get food. So hungry. Taste of blood so close!
She gripped the door. Didn’t scratch. Didn’t slam. Fingers wrapped around knob. She squeezed. Knob stuck.
She paused. Other hand still holding red cloth. Something different about it. Something important. She looked at old meat. Felt sad. What was old meat?
She walked over. Saw waitress uniform. Wasn’t hungry for that. Fresh meat outside. Had to escape.
But she couldn’t. Eyes watched old meat. Felt different. Wanted something. Needed something.
Key! She felt waitress uniform. Shiny metal on chain. She yanked.
Went back to door. Put key in lock. Squeezed. Moved. Lock clicked. Door opened a crack.
She paused. Old meat still there. Still dead. Something missing. She looked at key. Saw name tag attached.
Leah, she thought. Sounded good. Sounded right.
Smell of blood strong. So hungry. Fresh meat outside!
Leah opened the door and stumbled through, scarf in hand.
* * *
Leah peered out from the door of the general store she’d hidden in. Hollows were everywhere, driven out of hibernation by the gunfire. Even if she wanted to make a break for it, she wasn’t outrunning them with this dinged up leg, and the only vehicles in sight were the ones they’d trashed during the firefight.
Always a struggle, huh? She wrapped her surviving fingers around her knife and waited for the right moment.
One of the hollows strayed too far from the others.
“Hey!” Leah whispered, just loud enough for it to hear and no one else. The hollow turned and stared. “Your mother was a whore.”
The hollow hissed and wobbled her way, and Leah withdrew a few steps. Corralling it into the back room and out of sight of the street was easy.
As the hollow rounded the bend, Leah swept out her working leg and tripped it. The door closed with a slam, and she stabbed for its back. But her body was more damaged than she’d thought, and her blade only hit its shoulder, and not its spinal cord as planned.
The hollow rolled against her, sending Leah down too. She grit her teeth and tried to grapple back, but the hollow had four working limbs, and she had only two and a half. Nails scratched against flesh and teeth bit down, but she managed to get behind its back before it could strike her head. The hollow moaned as Leah locked it in place with her thighs and arm.
Slowly, carefully, Leah angled the black steel of her knife into the hollow’s mouth. It thrashed in response while she tried to maintain the most awkward rear naked choke she’d ever performed. This was definitely harder with only one arm.
But there was success. A bloodied tooth popped free as she wrenched her knife back out. The hollow’s struggles doubled, and again she was forced to recover the security of her hold, this time using her severed arm as a brace against its neck to give her surviving hand more leverage.
She looked at the tooth and sighed. One down. A lot to go.
* * *
The Hunger never stopped.
No matter how much Leah ate, no matter how many bodies she consumed, her stomach just kept demanding more. How many would it take?
But Leah had also been getting smarter. There was something about the heads that she craved most, and so she’d made a habit of going straight for them.
Leah had learned a lot in the time she’d been awake. There were two other types of people in the world: carnivores and prey. The carnivores were slow and clumsy, and were like her but different. They ignored everything she did. The prey were strange. They were fast and clever, and sometimes turned into carnivores if left alone too long. Only when eaten fast could they stay as food.
Leah was close to another meal now. This was a different type of meat. She could smell it. Perhaps this time, the Hunger would be sated, once and for all.
She’d wandered into someone’s backyard, with a white picket fence and pool by the door. The prey had long since abandoned it.
Leah found her prize. He was a dog, with dirty blonde fur and sad little eyes that watched her as she approached. Another carnivore must’ve gotten to him first, as the midsection had been sliced open, and he could no longer run. His tiny stomach vibrated with a rising zeal the closer she drew.
Her nostrils burned with the smell of new blood. The dog winced as she stroked it. She was so hungry…
“I’m sorry,” Leah said before sinking her teeth in.
Moans erupted behind, and another pair of carnivores entered the yard. Leah tried to hiss back, but the carnivores had caught scent of her meal, and would not be deterred. Frustrated, she made room, casually splaying out the lower half for the others while leaving the head for herself.
One organ at a time, the trio silently consumed their corpse. Leah found the taste different than what she’d been used to, but still not enough to satiate her hunger. Would it ever end?
A sudden pop went off, and one of her eating companions collapsed. The other rose to its feet, and Leah watched in horror as it met the same fate. She flew behind the small, wooden doghouse. It was the only cover in sight!
“I saw another,” a prey announced. “Be careful.”
“We gotta be quick,” another said. “Those shots will attract more.”
A group of prey walked into view. There were ten of them, all armed with guns and bats, scanning the yard. How had she let them get so close!?
One suddenly looked her way. He had a sweat-stained shirt and angry eyes. They narrowed right on her own!
“Over here!” he shouted before taking aim.
She shrieked and floundered into a bush. Everywhere she looked, there was only more fence. Where was the exit!?
The angry man closed in, gun in hand.
Leah threw her hands in the air. “Please! Don’t shoot m-me!”
The gun shook. “Holy shit, you can talk?”
Another strolled up. This one was big and dark skinned. “She’s not infected?”
The angry man paused. “No, she definitely is, Darius. Just look at her.”
“I was just h-h-hungry,” Leah said. “I’m s-sorry.”
“Ain’t never seen anything like this,” Darius said. “How the hell is that possible?”
“What are you guys doing?” a woman asked, bat raised. “Kill it!”
“I’ll l-l-leave!” Leah pleaded. “Please!”
The angry man shook his head. “We can’t just kill her, Amy. That’s murder.”
“Are you kidding me!?” Amy snapped. “That thing is not a person.”
But the angry man just drew closer. “What’s your name?”
Leah studied the prey in front. They were all watching her, weapons ready, waiting for an excuse to kill. Except the angry man. He didn’t look angry anymore.
“Leah,” she said.
He smiled and held out a gloved hand. “Hello, Leah. My name is Peter.”
* * *
Slurp. Slurp. Slurp.
The hollow bit into her arm, again and again and again, as Leah sat and stared. But no flesh was torn now that all its teeth were missing. Only bile leaked out and into the mason jar she’d left below.
It’d been a while since Leah had milked a hollow, and she’d forgotten how truly pitiful it was to watch. The hollow would bite and bite, salivating for the meat it would soon taste. But there was no taste to come, and nothing to let it know that her flesh was inedible. And so the hollow would get locked into an endless loop of trying to bite down, failing, and trying again as though nothing had happened, all while its saliva dripped freely out.
There was no way out of it. The nerves in her arm and leg were no more, and she couldn’t go anywhere until the jar was full.
Slurp. Slurp. Slurp.
Leah blinked through the haze. The concussive force of the RPG must’ve given her a cerebral hemorrhage, as her sight was starting to go blurry, and she’d been drained hard. Hollowing would kick back in soon if she didn’t keep her mind busy.
“You’re probably wondering why I covered the rear,” she said to the hollow. “I knew it’d be the first place they’d hit once reinforcements came. Not my usual style, I know.”
Slurp. Slurp. Slurp.
“Yeah, it was a fucking risk, but so was everything else. The whole op was fucked the moment they launched that drone. All I could do was try to even the odds, but still, there was no way we were getting out of that one. Not without serious luck, like Reno times a thousand. Oh well, can’t win ‘em all.”
The hollow paused and met her in the eyes.
“Hey!” she snapped. “Don’t start thinking on me. One of us is already too many!”
The hollow looked back to her arm and bit down again.
“Thank you.”
Slurp. Slurp. Slurp.
Tears began to form, but Leah blinked them back. “I really fucked up this time. Not here. Not today. Back in Aspen. I don’t know, the second I saw the blood and knew my skull had been cracked… I just lost my shit. I couldn’t believe that it’d almost ended there. My story over for good, all because I’d broken a fucking water bottle. Can he really blame me?”
Slurp. Slurp. Slurp.
“I get it. It’s all my fault. The guy was just trying to find his family. Sure, it was a dumb, hopeless cause that’d never come true, but it was also the only thing that made him sane. I could see it, man. All those long nights he couldn’t sleep. All those times he stumbled on a rock. He needed that stupid dream to keep him in the fight. It was the foundation of his own Rez. And I tried to take that away from him.”
She sighed. “Not just Liam either. Mastermind, Kurt. They’re probably purged now, and the last thing they’d remember is me being a cold-blooded bitch. I built them both up, only to try to topple them back down. The fuck did I do that for?”
Slurp. Slurp. Slurp.
“Yeah, you’re right. It was about hurting me, not them. All the shit I’ve done to survive, and it’s tainted my soul. What’s the point of coming back to life if my existence never changes? I’ll always be that fucking Hunter, and I don’t think I could ever be anything else. They all saw it. They knew the truth. I’m the reason that things are supposed to die.
“And for just a moment, that’s what I fucking wanted. I thought I could bait one of them into it. Thought I could poke them hard enough. But nope. Liam Fucking Fenix just had to let me go. He just had to tell me there was still a shot. And now he’s gone too.”
Slurp. Slurp. Slurp.
Leah shook her head against the waste of it all. “I won’t die here. Not like this. I’m going to make it out. No matter what it takes.”
She noticed that the mason jar was about to overflow.
“Hey!” Leah said to the hollow. It paused again for a beat, and the two made eye contact. “Thanks for listening.”
She rammed her knife through its ear.
* * *
“Cheers to my girl, Leah!” Darius said before raising his water bottle.
“Cheers!” everyone else shouted before taking a swallow.
Leah smiled weakly, the shredded muscles of her cheeks hidden behind the scarf she’d had since the beginning but had only recently started wearing. The group all smiled back, and it made her feel good.
She’d saved someone’s life today! Her, Peter, and Darius had gone out on a run to get Amy her medication. Leah was just supposed to have kept watch, but when she heard Darius screaming for help, she knew she had to act. Thank goodness, too. Any later and that zed would’ve bit him and not her.
Her arm didn’t work right anymore, but that was okay. Darius was still alive and healthy, and with the bandages that Jin had given her, Leah was feeling better already.
It had been weeks since she’d met these people, and learned what had happened. Some kind of virus that turned people into zombies had been released from out East. Then a national lock-down had been called right after, along with the internet and television being blocked. No one could figure anything out after that. Only through dropped leaflets and radio broadcasts could they get any kind of information about the outside world. Some places were doing really well, but Reno was not one of them.
That’s what made today so great. They’d heard a government announcement that the military was coming to Nevada soon, and would liberate the city from the endless hordes of zeds. If they could just hold out long enough, Leah could find scientists, and then they’d make a cure. That was what Jin said anyway, and he was a neurologist.
But it wouldn’t be easy. They’d already lost half their group in just the last few weeks alone. Tomas and Billie had been caught first by zeds after panicking in a fight. Then Jessi had been shot by a cop, and Lisa went down soon after, though hers was self-inflicted. Watching Oliver die was the worst. He was so young and had such a good attitude.
Peter strolled over and patted Leah on the back. “When this thing’s over, me and you are getting a drink.”
“Really?” she asked.
“Yeah, really. I’ll pay the tab, and you won’t have to worry about wearing that scarf anymore.” He met her in the eyes. “It’ll be just like how things used to be.”
Her chest tightened. Leah liked the way he was staring into her eyes, as if she wasn’t a monster afflicted by this horrible sickness. Peter was looking at her for the person beneath.
And for just a beat, Leah felt human again.
* * *
Moans rolled outside, and Leah got the last of her tools together. She’d lucked out in what this general store had in stock. Duct tape would do wonders to secure her leg, and there was a pneumatic nailgun with a working pressurized tank that’d help with the rest.
Again she studied the half-empty mason jar of concentrated Hollowing, now that the water had been filtered out.
HBRS-15.21 – the most deadly contagion the world had ever seen. It could survive in extreme temperatures and proliferate without end, so long as a single one of its unbound pseudo-cells entered the human body first. There was nothing it knew other than taking dead cells and reanimating them, and it had been so effective with that role that its architects had fallen to its unrivaled might, creating a race of undead humans in the process. The rezzers. HBRS-15.21 was their gift, their curse, the anchor that weighed them down, and the wings that carried them into the sky. Their entire existence was premised on its design.
And that’s what gave her options.
Leah smeared the concentrated bile onto her wounds, with the most on her severed arm and matching stump. Soft cells could do anything, become anything, and there was no better source than infected saliva. Provided that enough was applied, entire muscular systems could be reformed.
When her wounds were sufficiently coated, Leah wrapped the duct tape around her leg. The first layer worked to stem the bleeding, while the second secured wooden planks in place. The extra fortification against her broken bones would hopefully keep her standing.
The arm came next. Leah pressed the nailgun into her flesh and fired. A hard thump resonated when each chunk bolted back together, and her dead arm shuddered in response. This was going to leave an ugly scar at the end, but a skinjob was a pittance compared to losing it entirely.
Leah stood back up, and her leg held firm. She raised her arm and watched it drop but not snap off. It would be days before she’d be able to use the arm again. Weeks before it’d be at full strength. And that assumed she hadn’t fucked up. The last time she’d had a limb reattached, it’d been back in the sanctuary of Pandemonium, with a troupe of doctors attending.
Here’s to hoping. The waning light of day fell as Leah stumbled out the door. She’d spent enough time here.
* * *
“It’s worth the risk,” Peter said, giving his beard a stroke.
“We don’t know these guys,” Darius pointed out.
“We know that they have ammo, and we’ve got food. A trade is a trade.”
Marcela studied the open space. “There could be shoot again.” Her voice was hoarse with the language she had only recently learned.
“Look, we’ll be fine so long as they think we’ve got a larger group. But anything goes wrong, we’ll give them to Leah. Same as Roseville.”
Leah’s mouth watered to that. It had been a while since she’d tasted living human flesh, and not some stray animal.
The others nodded to Peter’s plan. No longer were they the optimistic group of adventurers trying to save the world. Months had past since Reno, and each had witnessed countless instances of the unspeakable, if not performed some themselves.
There was just the four of them now. Everyone else was gone. Peter, Darius, Marcela, and Leah. Three survivors and their pet undead, desperate for the nightmare to end.
That’s what had driven them to San Jose. Talk of field testing by the CDC had lured them out of Sacramento. But the rumor had been a lie like everything else, and now they were only hoping to make it out of the city and maybe hit up the coast where they could find a boat.
A van rolled into the vacant lot they’d picked as a meet. Leah brought her scarf further up the bridge of her nose and pushed her sunglasses in. She didn’t like being there, but Peter had met their leader downtown, and embellished the size of his operation. No one knew how other survivors might react to weaker groups.
The leader stepped out, with five others behind. Harry, she’d been told, and he sure looked it. He had a handlebar mustache below long, greasy hair, with even more exploding out from his arms and legs. His denim jacket was drenched in sweat, no doubt from the extra layer of black, curled hair beneath.
“No need for the guns,” Harry said at the sight of them armed. “We’re all on the same side here.”
Peter smiled. “Yeah, I hear you, but I think we’d all feel safer with them out.”
“You’re right. Don’t know who to trust these days.” He nodded to his biggest guy. “Logan, you’re up. These people are hurtin’ for ammo. Let’s not keep ‘em waiting.”
Logan went into the van and came back with a box of assorted ammunition. After a minute of inspection, Peter gave the all clear to Darius, who scrounged their pick-up truck to do the same. Their stash had months more sustenance than they needed, the benefit of having a member among them who couldn’t consume processed food.
All things considered, the trade went well. Harry cracked jokes about this style of business being the new farmers’ market, and there was even talk of the groups joining forces. The tension began to ease, and almost disappeared entirely.
Until one of theirs drew a gun. “Shit!”
Immediately, everyone had their weapons back out.
“Talk to me, Madison,” Harry said, hands around a pistol.
Madison brushed some mohawk hair out of her face and pointed at Leah. “That one right there. I caught a glimpse of her eyes. She’s a Thinker!”
He twitched. “You sure?”
“Definitely.”
Peter raised a placating hand. “What are you doing, Harry? We had a deal.”
The sweat built on his head. “Yeah? Well that was before I knew you had a Thinker with you.”
“Don’t know what that is, Harry.”
“Please,” Leah pleaded, “we don’t know what you’re talking about!”
But the gruffness of her voice seemed to affirm their suspicions, and all now had their weapons trained on her. The pistol she’d been given trembled in her hand. Sure, Leah knew how to shoot, but she’d never done it to a person before. Enough had died by her hand from the early days of the outbreak.
“What do we do?” Darius murmured, his shotgun aiming this way and that.
Peter met Harry head-on. “Whatever you think is going on here isn’t true. Leah’s a friend. She’d never hurt anyone.”
He shook his head. “If she’s one of them, she’s not one of us.”
“She isn’t one of them. She has an immunity in her blood. It’s why we’re only passing through.”
To that, Harry laughed. “Have you people been living under a rock!? First you come back dumb, then you come back smart. That’s just how it is. We lost twelve of our people to a single Thinker – twelve good people – to a monster exactly like that bitch right there.”
Peter paused. “What are you trying to say, Harry?”
He grinned. “That ain’t no immunity. That’s the goddamned endgame of this virus! To replace us with them.”
The cracks were forming in her group. Leah could see it. Marcela and Darius watched her suspiciously from their peripheral vision, and even the gun was unsteady in Peter’s hand. All of them. All at once. They weren’t sure if she wasn’t just another zed.
No, you can’t! Leah turned their way. “Don’t listen to him! I’m your fr–”
A blast went off, and her body went limp. A cacophony of shouting erupted as Leah saw nothing but the sky above. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. Gunfire began, but the clouds had gone blurry, and then unnaturally dark…
She blinked.
The sun was suddenly high above, and her head felt more clear. No longer could Leah hear a firefight. She sat back up, only to realize that Harry and his people had magically disappeared. What had happened?
Leah felt the back of her neck. The folds of her hair were coated in something sticky, and there was a spot on her skull that was soft where it should’ve been hard. She pressed deeper. Her wrist locked up as her body seized, and she fell back down.
Leah had never known nonexistence before. Since that first moment of waking up and seeing the world for what it was, she had never been unconscious, never slept, and never dreamed. It was strange to see the others drift out, and she had always wondered what that sense would feel like.
But this was truly terrifying. Time had passed, the world had spun on, and Leah was not there. Her soul, her essence, her life, whisked out of reality as if it had never belonged. What would’ve happened if the bullet had landed an inch closer to her brain? Would she have been gone for good!?
She turned around and shrieked. Darius, Marcela, and Peter. All were lying where they’d been standing. Each with bullet holes in their heads.
How many had died for Leah now? Dozens of faces were ingrained into her mind. Lisa, Jin, Tomas, Amy, Alex, Johnny, Billie, Jessi, Anton and Alexei, Sergeant Aaron and Private Noah, Oliver… Now the rest were gone. They had all been people with their own stories, and families, and dreams. And all their souls were now locked in that terrible place that Leah had just escaped.
And yet, grief was not on her mind. Not now, and not for them. Her nails scraped against the concrete and she growled without intent.
They had done this. Harry and his group and the military and the cops and every other survivor who killed when they should’ve helped. Humanity’s best had died striving for something more. Now, there was no one left who mattered. Why bother developing a vaccine? The survivors were all the same. Ignorant, selfish murderers who wanted to deprive Leah of the very thing they held dear. She didn’t deserve to die because of something that had never been a choice. She deserved to experience the world for herself.
Leah stumbled over to Peter’s dead body and picked up his weapon. It was a M1911 pistol, the very one he’d avoided using on her. Now his mercy was in her hands, while his killers still lived.
She replaced the half-empty magazine with one full and put her scarf into her back pocket where she would not wear it. If Harry and his people thought of her as a monster, then she would prove them right.
* * *
Leah stared blankly at the corpse. The clothes were as rotten as always, and the sledgehammer sat ready by his side, but the head had been reduced to pulp, and his Rez was no more.
Of course Kurt was dead. He’d die before surrendering, and that was a wish their enemies were all too willing to grant. She’d been resigned to that fact since the moment she’d woken back up.
What bothered Leah wasn’t that he’d been killed, but how it’d happened. A single shot had struck his head, and disintegrating his brain. A full purge, point-blank, before he’d even recognized his end had come.
Sure, Leah could leave right now. She could scoop up what remained of the dead Hunters and Kurt to fortify her own reservoir, then fuck off into the hills where no one would find her. They wouldn’t come back until the hollows cleared, and she was skilled at disappearing.
But she couldn’t. Not anymore. Leah knew the type of buckshot that had finished Kurt off. Hades had murdered him, just as he’d murdered countless others. This injustice would not end until he was defeated, and until the Hollowing became no more.
Leah would make sure that happened, even if it killed her.
* * *
A small group of zeds wandered down the street, too close to Harry’s settlement. The security gate clicked open, and three of his guards stepped out, armed with baseball bats and face visors. It was a good strategy. Even though zeds wouldn’t be able to breach the stainless steel bars that protected the entry lot, nor the concrete wall running besides, zeds had a habit of attracting more zeds, and then this small problem could no longer be handled discreetly. With this many months after the outbreak, his people were solid, and should anything have gone wrong, Madison had them covered with a suppressed rifle from the safety of the lot.
…Which was why Leah hopped over the concrete wall to her flank.
Before Madison could see the attack coming, Leah grabbed her from behind and sunk her teeth into her neck. Madison resisted, but the taste of fresh, healthy blood after so much time sent a shock down Leah’s spine, and her strength was amplified. Madison fell with a gasp.
A shout echoed from the outside guards, so Leah drew her 1911. They were scrambling in retreat, but each body shot was easy to make, as she only cared to incapacitate and not kill. Their curses evolved into harrowing screams as the zeds finished what Leah started.
The door to their compound flew open, and Logan and a teenage boy rushed out, long barrels in hand. But Leah was closer than they’d suspected, and the short range gave her the advantage. A shot to the chest stunned Logan, and another bite to the neck finished him off. The teenager met a similar fate, though Leah used her knife to slash open his jugular in place of teeth. His young, scarlet vigor splashed against her rotted cheeks, sending another jolt through her veins.
As Leah made for the door, she caught sight of the rest of the zed herd she’d lured, now drawn by the gunshots and screams. She advanced inside, armed with knife and gun.
Panic rose like worms rushing out of the ground. Leah could feel the tension in the air. Taste their fear. And like those helpless worms fleeing the rain, she picked them off, one after the other. The settlement had been built inside an office building downtown, fortified like a bunker to keep all out. But with the main gate exposed and an army of zeds closing in, these very halls were a maze, and the attached offices they’d used as bedrooms became their slaughtering grounds.
Leah moved slowly and meticulously, killing those she deemed a threat, and merely biting those who weren’t. They could savor their last few moments of life with the terror of knowing what would come next. The few attacks her enemies managed to land only struck her undying frame, so Leah shrugged off each with ease.
This was a massacre. How had she ever allowed herself to fear such pitiful creatures? They were so weak, so frail, so pathetic. These weren’t the hard, ruthless survivors she’d imagined. They were no more than sheep cowering to a wolf!
Only Harry put up a worthwhile fight. He had chosen the hallway on the final floor to make his stand, and managed to shred her abdomen with a shot from his double-barreled shotgun, but before he could fire off the second round, Leah had already sprung back to her feet and closed the gap. Dust exploded from the ceiling as the shell struck it, and the two went hand-to-hand.
But for all of Harry’s grit, he was beholden to pain like anyone else, and so a single stab to the shoulder was enough to weaken his resistance, with another jab straight for his heart extinguishing the rest. To his credit, even in that last moment, when his mind knew what his body was about to learn, Harry stared with contempt and defiance for the enemy that had bested him.
Leah pressed the barrel of her M1911 into the base of his chin and pulled the trigger. Not everyone deserved an afterlife.
Leah kicked open the door that Harry had been protecting and learned his truth. Three children sat huddled together, and she recognized their likeness as sharing his. As Leah studied Harry’s progeny, they closed their eyes and shivered.
Her palms were shaking and her tongue was on fire with the taste of human flesh, but still her stomach craved more. These children weren’t innocent. They were just more of humanity’s stock, waiting for their moment to strike back.
Leah closed the door behind.
When she was finished, she stumbled back downstairs and out into the street, letting the zeds pass by without thought. Rain had begun to fall, but still she marched onward.
Somewhere along the way, Leah fell to her knees and shrieked. It was an instinctive, earthly incantation over the horrors she had inflicted. Against the carnage she had bathed in. The juices ran down her cheeks, and the blood coated her clenched fists, and still she screamed. She would never die. The world would stop spinning and the sun would burn out, but still Leah would survive, and nothing would stop her!
A raspy voice beckoned behind. “Holy shit… Get a load of this badass.”
Leah stared dumbfounded at her interlopers. They weren’t human, but they weren’t zeds either. Their eyes were like hers, stained in red.
She gaped. “Who…?”
The leader stepped forth, dressed in a ruined three-piece suit and cowboy hat. He beamed, wrinkles folded over rotting flesh. “The name’s Hades, and it looks like you could use some help.”
* * *
“Come on, Dean,” Hades said through the radio. “Pick the fuck up. Do you have any idea how much of an asshole you’re making me look right now!?”
So that’s what his name was. Leah had done Dean in quick, with a stab to the back of the head as he went for a piss. There had been five more before him, and she’d consumed all with ease. Already, her Rez felt stronger than ever.
“Dean’s dead,” Leah said, holding the radio close. “And you’re next, Hades. It’s over.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake…” The radio cut out. Knocks hit the door, and Xander slipped back inside.
Leah had chosen her spot well. Hidden in the vent outside his interrogation room, there was no way they’d see the shot coming. She braced her strongest leg against the walls of the vent and took aim.
But then the door opened wider, and she caught sight of what sat behind. Liam was still alive and well, and Leah could no longer guarantee a clean shot.
Hades flew out the door and down the hall before she could recalculate the risk, with Xander at his flank. Shit. Dealing with him would have to wait.
Another Hunter marched into view, dressed in the black leathers of Xander’s crew, with a peacock’s feather poking out from her cap. An officer. One of his last, she suspected.
Leah squirmed around and holstered her 1911. She’d have to act fast if they were all getting out of this.
The ping of a coin echoed throughout the hall, and the officer studied the spot where it had landed. Leah squeezed deeper into the vent, and her target’s sight fell everywhere but where she lay.
When the officer walked directly below, Leah leaned back out. The officer caught sight of the penny Leah had thrown, but she had noticed too late. Squeaks flared as the officer was yanked from the neck. Her lithe frame banged against the ceiling where the vent opened up, but her arms were too wide to reach through and defend. She shouted but once before Leah bit down, the fortified enamel of her teeth far stronger than the softness of her victim’s skull. The officer went limp, and Leah let her fall back down.
With the silence and grace of a cat, Leah spun again into view and dropped. There was no time to waste. She snatched the officer’s keys and limped for the door.
“Leah…” Liam said with a gasp. “You’re alive.”
Am I? “Hold still.” She pressed the keys into his restraints.
“You came for us,” Mother said.
Mastermind tried to speak, but he’d taken a bullet to the throat, and his vocal cords were torn. Only a thin whisper creaked out, too soft to follow.
“What do we do now?” Liam asked when they were all free. Leah went for the door. “We finish what we’ve started.”
