Chapter Fifteen
“The infected will rot away, sooner or later.”
“Not in our lifetime. The degradation you’re witnessing is only skin deep. Their tissue is hostile to most natural microorganisms. For all intents and purposes, the infected aren’t just dead. They’re also embalmed.”
–Dr Ava Sherman. Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado. 2 Months After.
* * *
It was all like riding a bicycle.
That’s what wilderness trekking was for the veteran survivalist. Liam had done more hikes and conquered more mountains than he could count. His legs might have been sorer now that he was in his fourties, and his willpower more drained, but a couple of days breathing mountain air and supplementing his diet with fresh fruit and their extra vitamins, and he had never felt half as invigorated.
The arid wastelands of Los Angeles had first given way to the dry foothills that pocketed the plateau. There, the temperature leveled out and clusters of trees became regularities, and slowly but surely, the wind-swept brush submitted to a more lush mosaic. California walnuts and white firs overtook the dried yuccas beneath, and the flow of water was never far from the ear. Somewhere along the way, they could find easy refuge from the overbearing sun.
But the travel was slow going. Leah had insisted on keeping off any roads that transcended the slopes for fear that they’d be seen, and then had gone the extra length to avoid the valleys beneath. Hollows had a habit of congregating there, she claimed, though Liam had his skepticism. Not many had crossed their path once they had broken free from the city, and fewer still wandered into the open after a few days of traversing the land. Their path ultimately led them to zig-zag through the mountains, circumventing Lancaster altogether as they pushed north.
His companions seemed to be weathering the journey with flying colors, at least. The rezzers kept watch when Liam went to sleep, and always seemed to have woken up well before dawn. They never stopped to rest unless he asked for it, and they seemed to ignore the rapid changes in temperature altogether, in spite of wearing three layers of clothes at any given time. Even their injuries didn’t affect their pace. Within days of the firefight, they had all recovered as though nothing had ever happened.
Liam floundered onto the latest ridge. “Never thought I’d be the one to slow them down,” he said to Thirsty before giving him a tap. The “Life is good” label was almost mocking under the hot sun.
Kurt took a step back and gave Liam a lift with his hefty, gloved hand. “All things considered, I think you’re doing pretty good. Most rezzers don’t do so great in the wilderness, and we’re more durable than you lifers.”
Liam let out a breath. “You don’t get it. I’ve been out here like this for most of my life. If it wasn’t hunting with my father back in England, then it was the weeks I’d spend camping with Nelly after my family moved to the States. We were living just outside the Adirondacks at the time, and she was only my high school sweetheart. Then we were truly alone in Alaska after that. We didn’t even have a refrigerator. Instead, we’d take chunks of meat and shove them on a pole to keep away from scavengers. Very old technique, first used by ancient Inuit, I believe.
“Anyway, even when we went back to California after Lilith was born, I got myself a job taking stock photos of the mountains for this advertising firm. Thought my adventuring days were done then, but fate had other plans.” He smiled. “One of the executives heard I liked camping, and starting asking about my experience. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, I was the lead star in a documentary series about wilderness survival. That’s how much I’ve been doing this.”
“They made a show about surviving?” Kurt asked. “Sounds stupid. Everyone who isn’t dead is surviving. You, me, them. There’s no exception. So why make an entire show about it? You might as well just watch paint dry.”
Liam smiled. “Ah, but this is different, mate. It’s one thing to survive in the middle of a city with all the amenities, but when you’re a naturalist, all you have to work with is that which you can find out here.”
Kurt raised his sole eyebrow. “So you’re saying they made a TV show based on what we’re doing right now?”
“I suppose, in a sense, yes.”
“So it goes then. That’s terrible story construction.”
Now Liam was starting to get offended. “You’re telling me that wilderness survival isn’t the least bit intriguing to you? Exploring some rugged landscape, untouched by man. Fighting off predators both large and small. Scavenging everything from the exotic to the grotesque, all to survive. None of that sounds like a compelling story to you?”
He kept walking. “You don’t get it. This is the boring part of any story. That’s why they always skip over it, or just use the space for bullshit dialogue. Nobody cares about how some jackass got from one part of the woods to another. You know he’ll get to the other side. Talking about it is just a waste of time.”
“Well, I’ll have you know that ‘wasting time’ got me seven figures and millions of people tuning in, every week we ran, for more than seventy episodes across four seasons. Would’ve had a fifth had things turned out different.”
“I hear the living used to make shows about rich women bitching at each other, and a lot of people watched them. Doesn’t mean they were good.”
Liam couldn’t believe what he was hearing, especially from Frankenstein’s monster reborn. “You know what your problem is, Kurt? You’re not looking at the trees for the forest it created. What made Survive In Wild so successful wasn’t the plot, but the presentation. I’d do the things the other guys wouldn’t. Maybe I’d jump in quicksand, or squeeze water from dung. The people loved watching the spectacular unfold, and wouldn’t shy away when I’d impart the valuable lessons they needed, should they find themselves in a similar predicament. My foreign accent helped to keep them interested, but mostly, it was my showmanship and experience that kept people tuned in.
“That let me do what I wanted most, which was to share my knowledge. Me and Nelly learned a lot living as naturalists, you see. More than I could ever explain in a lifetime. But if I could use the telly to distribute even a fraction of what I had gained, I could make people’s lives better. Sure, journeying for free to romantic lands was fun, but it wasn’t half as fulfilling as knowing that I was making a difference. It was all about helping people to learn to survive.”
Kurt grinned. It wasn’t his best look. “Should’ve made an episode on the Hollowing then. I’d bet a lot of people would’ve appreciated that.”
Liam rolled his eyes. “Oh, you can just bugger off.” With another huff, he rounded the next bend. They were still several hundred meters from the others. “Well, I’ve shared my story to you, mate. Why not waste my time with yours?”
“Not much to tell. I made my way to Pandemonium after hearing the rumors like everyone else, and then did construction for a couple months. Work sucked. The city needs renovations left and right, but they never pay enough to keep you thinking. Thought I’d rehollow there.”
He gazed ahead. “Until I met Leah. She said I didn’t have to be a useless meathead. Said I could make something of myself. Didn’t believe her at first. Felt like I’d just screw things up. But then I got my hands on a couple books. Learned a lot. Got smarter. Built a stronger Rez. Suddenly, I was more than the mindless hulk that everyone said I was.” He paused. “I owe everything I have to her.”
Liam watched Leah. She was miles ahead of the rest of them, scouting for a path forward while scanning behind for threats.
He supposed that Kurt wasn’t the only one to owe her his life.
* * *
Twilight tore through the pines of a cloudless night, and Liam trekked between the trees. He hadn’t been having the best of sleep, and the sound of a nearby waterfall had wet his tongue. How desperately he could use some fresh mountain water right about now.
Liam entered a clearing, and his heart skipped a beat. Pale skin glowed like white gold in the moonlight. Ebony hair fell in waves past shoulders. The water from the fall flowed over a specter in the shape of a woman, buttocks out and breasts free as he faced her back. Liam was mesmerized by the illusion. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a naked woman, and his body responded at once. There was nothing else to think, nor any ramifications to consider. There was only him and this seductive siren.
Then Leah glanced his way, scarf still wrapped around face, and Liam reflexively averted his gaze. She’s a goddamn corpse, you fucking nutter. Too much time stranded had driven him mad!
Moments later and she wandered over, her body once again hidden beneath the sheepskin jacket and jeans. “You should keep resting, Liam Fenix.”
Why did she always use his last name? It was so goddamned impersonal. “I could use a drink.” He held up Thirsty, whose smile seemed to nod in agreement.
“I told you before, everything needs to be boiled first. We can’t risk you getting sick.”
“That’s fair, but the way I figure it, we’re out here alone, and most dangerous microbes only grow in still water. I’ll be fine.”
“You’re forgetting about the Hollowing.”
“Relax. How long have we been together now? I’m sure if the disease was as contagious as you’re making it out to be, I’d have gotten it by now, yeah?”
Her violet eyes burned deep. “That isn’t how it works. The Hollowing follows its own rules.” She walked over to the waterfall and held out her hand. Water streamed over her bony fingers. “There are two types of ‘strains.’ The Hard strain and the Soft strain. Hard cells are pseudo-cells that have fully formed. They behave like blood cells, or muscles, or neurons, or whatever else is needed. Once the Hollowing becomes Hard, it can’t be anything different, and therefore can’t reproduce. You could hold my hand or wear my clothes, and wouldn’t become infected.”
She flipped over her hand, and water became trapped in the palm. “Then there’s the Soft strain. These are the pseudo-cells that don’t know what they’ll become yet, so they just pull nutrients from the first cell they see and start replicating. That’s what made the Hollowing spread so fast. A single Soft cell in the body, and you’re hollow within hours. No exceptions. Worse yet, an infected but living human became the most dangerous vector because everything from their blood to their sweat could transfer it to someone else, and they wouldn’t even know. The Hard strain might’ve created hollows, but it was the Soft that let them burn your world down.
“In spite of the time, there are some parts of the body that will always be infused with Soft cells. Saliva is the biggest contributor. A single bite from anyone, including me, and it’s over. Tears will also contain it though, along with the digestive and urinary tract.” She took a step closer. “That’s why I can’t risk you drinking water that hasn’t been purified. Even if a hollow pissed in the river miles upstream, you’ll still die.”
Liam gulped against the severity of the claim. At least whatever arousal he’d felt just moments ago was now extinguished. Hearing about zombie urinary tracts turned out to be quite the turn-off.
Twigs snapped nearby, and Liam instinctively withdrew a few steps.
Leah held up her hand. “Don’t worry, it’s Buttercup.”
“How can you tell?” The forest was pitch black.
“Our adaptation is better than yours. This many hours after the sun’s down, our night vision is almost as good as what we can see during the day.”
He squinted. “Really?”
Leah shrugged. “Just don’t shine a light in our faces. The rapid change in stimulus is like a flashbang to us.”
Then Buttercup strolled into view with a dead bobcat strung over a shoulder, and his rifle over the other. “Look what I found out there. We’re gonna be eating well tonight.” He grinned when he noticed Liam. “Oh, I see our friend decided he’s sick of laying around all the time.”
Liam salivated at the sight. How long had it been since he’d eaten meat not stuck in a can? “Don’t suppose I could have some of that?”
Buttercup grinned. “Well, well. I see we’re starting to rub off on you after all.”
Leah held out her palm. “No. Can’t risk it.”
“Relax,” he said with a yawn. “I cleaned my bullets before I used them, and haven’t touched the corpse without gloves. No contamination here.”
“Come on,” Liam said. “I know how to properly prepare meat. Just give me a little space, yeah?”
Leah sighed. “Fine. But if I can see the fire from more than twenty paces away, I’m putting it out.”
“Thank you.”
They returned to camp, and Liam went to work cleaning the corpse while Leah located the others. He sliced into the abdomen using the practiced efficiency that he’d cultivated over the years, and quickly gutted the bobcat, one organ after another. Then he laid it out on rock and peeled away the hide, being sure to keep dirt away from the meat. He reached the final step of butchering the flesh for cooking when the others returned.
“We’re in luck,” Liam said. “There’s a good ten pounds of meat here.”
“Where’s the intestines?” Kurt asked.
“Over there.” He gestured over his shoulder.
Kurt grunted as he picked the discarded organs off the ground. “Aw, you ruined them.” He brushed off some dirt and started munching. Right. Forgot they eat anything they can.
Buttercup yanked a severed leg out of his hands and took a bite. “Gotta say, Liam, you’re quite the gourmet.”
Liam frowned. “Was hoping to cook that first.”
He spat. “Bleh. Nothing tastes worse than cooked meat. You have no idea what you’re missing out on.”
“Buttercup, you ignominious mongrel!” Mastermind roared. “You mutilated the most crucial delicacy.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. Meant to shoot its chest, but the wind picked up.”
“Now how are we to persevere? The scalp has been ruined!”
“What’s he talking about?” Liam asked. He’d made sure to dress everything important.
Buttercup twitched. “The brain. Can’t be a proper meal if you miss out on the brains.”
“Of course. What are you zombies without your brains?”
“Hey now, don’t say that. ‘Zombie’ is like the N-word to our kind.”
Liam chuckled. “I don’t quite think it is, mate.”
“Eh, maybe not, but it’s close enough.” He cut off a chunk of bloody stomach and popped it in his mouth. “You enjoy eating charred ash. I’ll stick with the good stuff.”
The group ate and laughed from there, enjoying the merriment of this rare lull among themselves. Rezzers apparently had to eat like anything else, lest their bodies fail on them and they go hollow. Liam supposed that it made sense. The laws of physics had to be obeyed, undead or not, though it seemed that they could go longer and eat less than their living counterparts. This was the first meal for them in days, and none seemed too bothered.
Even Leah hung around, and for a moment, Liam was certain she’d remove her scarf to eat, but then the two made eye contact, and she wandered away with her meal, alone. It truly was a shame. She no doubt had some nasty scar she not wish for him see, but Liam was the last to judge. Drinking water from dung lowers the bar on what’s unpleasant, my dear.
This was turning into quite the feast. For all their differences, the undead had much more in commonality with him than he would have suspected. They ate, they laughed, they shit, and if circumstances became grim enough, they died, with no more revelry to experience. Death was the purest link that brought them together, but where Liam would grow wiser and body weaker until its final stroke hit, rezzers remained stagnant in their frames, and only their minds would ever decay. Was this the true nature of the Hollowing? Was it no more than the mirror image of life itself? The more they talked, the more resolved Liam became in his own convictions. His companions were not opposed to humanity, but a reflection. They were no more than the inverse of all that had come before, and not an enemy to it. If their kind was the dominant species of this world, then there was hope yet.
For Liam as well as his family.
