The Things We Cannot Hear

by ononlycookie

Summary:

At the beginning of 2012, a group of scientists started a series of tests to understand the sudden rise of Lyme disease. Soon though, the genes they played with mutated, causing those who had been bit by an infected tick to become aggressive. The infected humans' aggressive demeanor quickly escalated from defiance of authority, to homicidal actions. The infected had become so outraged that they would attack any living creature in sight. They began to rip their targets apart with their bare hands, and would occasionally eat the bodies flesh after killing them. When the outbreak started, it seemed to many non-believers to be some national scale prank. Ambrose and her family believed this as well. That was until it hit their hometown in Houston, Texas.

Notes:

The title is a WIP!! This is an original work that I started after my love for the macabre of zombies was sparked again by the recent TLOU TV Show on HBO!!!

Chapter 1: Outbreak

I used to fear death. When I was a kid it felt like death was following me. If I took one wrong turn the reaper would take me. Now, though, it seems we're friends. The reaper I used to fear has become a constant comfort for me. For a lot of the survivors, though, it's the opposite. A lot of the survivors have rebuilt their lives, moved on as normally as they could. Fell in love, got married. Hell, some have even had kids. I can't imagine bringing more humans into this, though. Not while death rules, at least. As good of friends as we are, I don't agree with his views. 

Five years ago, when I was eighteen, I would've loved to have kids. I fantasized about all that domestic shit. A partner, two kids, a nice white house with nice white picket fences, but when the outbreak started all I could think about was survival. I wasn't going to let some scientists' huge mistake take me out. I was going out on my terms. For a while after the initial outbreak, I thought of ending it before I became one of those monsters, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave my brother. Ended up that no matter how you went out, you had a chance of turning into one. The survivor population started calling them the hushed. The hushed have a bunch of different levels of speed and strength. Some, mostly the recently turned, are fast, nimble, and extremely smart. They have a distinctive scream, it's somewhere between a yelp, like a dog, and a screech similar to a bird. Lots of us have nicknamed them shriekers, and when you hear their yell, you should run as fast as you can, hide, and pray to whatever higher power is left that they don’t find you. The next level of the hushed are infected that seem to have been this way for quite a few years. They are called swollen because of their rounded bodies and faces. Their appearance also seeps into their performance, and danger. The swollen are much slower but also have an explosive reaction to death, and their guts burn like acid. The acid won’t turn you, but it will burn through quite a few layers of your skin, causing you to become more susceptible to infection, and bleeding out. If burnt, it’s wise to rinse your skin off as soon as possible. I’ve heard of many strong survivors succumbing to death by infection from such burns. The last known special hushed is a type I've never seen first hand but heard of from older survivors; they've been called brawn. They are supposedly big, muscular hushed that were turned sometime around the beginning of the outbreak, and somehow not killed. 

I remember when the outbreak was first reported on. When I first heard the news, I didn't believe it. As it got more serious I figured it was some bad global prank. I eventually started to ignore all the people freaking out about it. My best friend, Noelle, was one of those people. She would constantly be on her phone checking the news for updates. We got into a fight about it one night after school. She came over to talk about the S.A.T. 's, but she had been looking at her phone constantly. She was getting notification after notification, all from different news feeds. I finally had the courage to ask who had been texting her. 

Her phone buzzed for what felt like the hundredth time. “Hey El? Who have you been texting? Your phone hasn’t been this on fire since you were on the cheerleading team” I laughed lightly, hoping to not come off too bothered. I didn’t mind if she was talking to someone. It just felt insane that she was getting that many messages.

“Hmm?” she looked up from her phone, and took a second to process what I had asked. Her eyebrows furrowed. She always looked so beautiful, but when she let her raw emotion out on her face was when I found myself staring. “Oh! Oh gosh, no ones texting me. It’s my news app. Everything has been going insane. That new sickness just hit the East Coast. It’s insane, people are going crazy. The people that are sick are supposedly attacking people” she spoke with scared inflection.

I scoffed, “Oh my god, not you too? Noelle, they’re all just publicity stunts, the same stuff was happening in London a week ago. No one is going crazy. I swear, it's all just some bad joke" I sighed out. I was so done with everyone trying to convince the world that people were actually going insane. I mean there was no way people were fine one day and then killing others the next. 

Noelle scoffed back at me, taking my ease as some level of a personal attack “Ambrose!” she barked. I hated it when she called me that, but it meant she was serious. El continued, “You can’t just brush this off. Look at the world right now!” She took a breath and looked me in the eyes. Her cold blue stare pierced my heart. “Look Amy, I thought the same thing, but look at these videos. If it was just a prank I doubt they would pay to get such good practical effects,” she said “practical effects' ' like a film producer. “If it was some bad prank, why would so many people all over the world take part in it? I mean, how would they even afford to make it look so real?” she sighed again. Looking down at her phone in her lap she talked softly. She sounded so sad. “Amy, I’m scared” her voice broke, and at the same time, something in me broke as well.

Weeks of pent up anger from the broken news I had been hearing rushed out of me like water from a dam. My walls were thrown up in an attempt to not let her fear affect me. She was feeding into some joke that had been played up for the media attention. I rolled my eyes in disbelief and scoffed loudly “God you sound like air supply” the words slipped from my lips. My soul twitched with guilt, as she looked up at me, her face painted with pain. Her eyebrows knitted together once again. In any other situation she would look like the most beautiful portrait, but right now, with my walls built up so high I couldn’t look at her with anything but disgust. 

Noelle stood up quickly, her blond hair flipping over her shoulder as she collected her backpack. She took a few steps toward the door, then stopped in front of my rigid form. Her words pierced my ears and immediately sent tears to my eyes. 

“Just because you are too tough to feel scared, doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be. You’ve been hell to keep up with for weeks, and the one time we get to be together for more than five minutes you throw this bullshit around. You need to pull yourself together because one day I won’t be there to do it for you” her voice came out from her lips like acid, angry and sharp, but I couldn’t be mad at her because she was right. As she stomped past me and out my bedroom door, I heard her talk to my mother. I then heard the front door open and close. Her car's engine revved as she pulled out of my driveway. 

My brother knocked softly on my door soon after. I heard his soft footstep padding into the room against the carpet, I ignored him. Then my bedroom light started to flicker on and off. On and off until I was forced to look at him from annoyance. I whipped my gaze toward him from my place in my bed, he jumped slightly from my sudden movement. I signed angrily at him “What do you want?” 

His shoulders slumped slightly, then he looked at me and rolled his eyes. He signed back with just as much disdain, “What do you think, Ambrose?”

My eyes lingered on his sign for my name. David had given me my sign name early on in his life, as there isn’t really a sign for the word “Ambrose”. He signed it to me one day whilst I was doing my homework at the kitchen table. He signed it using the sign for flower, but using the sign for the letter A. I almost cried when I realized he had given me my name.

Seeing him now, signing my name as the young man he has become was always sure to make me cry when I thought of it. Though, right now I was too mad to even care. I looked at his worried expression and responded to him, “El and I got into a fight. She actually believes all this ‘sickness’ shit”. 

He sighed and closed my door, he then came to my bed and crawled in next to me. He sat beside me with his hands in his lap, picking at his jeans. He looked at me and asked “Talk or distraction?” This question was one we used often when the other was upset. It was basically asking if the other wanted to talk about what happened, or for this moment pretend it didn’t happen. 

I took a deep breath and signed “Distraction”. He smiled softly at me. He then nodded and quickly grabbed my portable speaker from my bedside table. I snatched it from his hands and wrapped my arms around it jokingly. “Woah! Be careful! You might hurt it!” I signed to him. 

He signed back “Ha ha ha, you’re so funny” I looked at him and gave his shoulder a light punch. I then plugged my phone into the speaker and started playing my music loudly. His face lit up when it started, he put his hand against the bass and started to bang his head along with the beat. 

He loved music, he wasn’t great at playing it, but that didn’t matter. It made him happy. It was difficult when the outbreak happened, especially for him. He had to relearn how to navigate the world. It wasn’t as safe as it used to be, he no longer had to cross the street safely, he had to traverse woods and rivers while trying to make sure he could see, smell, or feel the things he couldn’t hear, and of course the things he couldn’t hear could kill him in fifthteen seconds if he wasn't alert enough. 

The first group we stayed with called me crazy for giving a teenager a gun, but I didn't see it that way. He may have been young, but once the first person was infected it was kill or be killed, whether we knew it or not. David has always been erratic and quick to anger, but I'd rather teach him to hone it into energy then bury him with a bullet in his head. 

The survivors argued that he was deaf, he could shoot any of us with no warning. I could understand why they thought that, but I knew David knew body language and intention better than any of us hearing people. He would easily know when he needed to shoot someone, when he was in danger. I had no doubt in my decision. That group died a few months after we met them. Arrogance has a way of biting you in the ass. 

Chapter 2: Dead Weight

Notes:

Ima post chapter 2 as well because I'm really excited to share this work!!

"AMBROSE!" My mother screeched from downstairs. Normally I would ignore her yelling, but she sounds terrified. Her screams sent me into a panic. I had been preparing for a terrible situation since I was born, but now that I was in one, it seemed all my preparation flew out of the window. Though I don't think anyone could've prepared us for the hushed.
I ran downstairs, nearly tripping on the last step. My mother met my eyes, her dilated pupils darted around my face, full of fear. Once she had deemed my reaction scared enough, she pushed past me frantically and pressed a button on the intercom that was in the hallway wall. A light flickered upstairs in time with her pushes. She only stopped when she heard David's heavy footsteps coming from his room.
She then turned to me, “Are you okay?” she put her hands on my shoulders, her frantic eyes still darting around my form.
I answered, signing along with my words for David “Yes, yes I'm fine? Why? What’s happening?” Her eyes hardened, the creases in between her eyebrows were visible.
“That sickness, it's real. Daddy is at the church, he told us to meet him there” she whispered. Tears welled up in my eyes, my mother agreed with my view on what was happening. If she believed this, if she said that with such seriousness, she must have proof. David’s frantic hand waving broke me from my thoughts.
When my eyes caught his, he was crying, he was terrified. He frantically pointed towards the living room, the TV was flashing with bold, red words. The sound it emitted pierced my ears, and I covered them while wincing.
The voice from the announcement rang out into our otherwise silent house. “National emergency. National emergency. Lockdown protocol, Stay inside, and do not interact with any aggressive persons” the announcement stated coldly. It repeated itself three more times, the voice speaking in time with the prompt on the screen.
I felt my heart contract, it felt like my stomach would expel itself from my body. My breath caught in my chest, and I couldn’t seem to get any oxygen. I ran over to my brother who was now standing in the living room staring blank faced at the TV. The prompter was repeating himself again. I grabbed David in my arms, and pushed his face into my chest. I rubbed his back in circles, the same way I used to when he was a baby and would cry. My eyes darted to my mom who had picked up a phone call from someone. I watched her lips form words, and she looked at me, trying to say something. She looked desperate, but I couldn’t hear her, my thoughts took up the world around me. My mind spiraled out of control, into the air around us, blinding my senses from rational thought.
Until one thought popped up, it screamed itself out of my mouth. “NOELLE! MOM! NOELLE! WE HAVE TO GO FIND HER!” I felt my body shake as the tears fell harder. My chest wracked with sobs, David pulled back and looked up at me as if reading my thoughts. His eyes blew into round saucers, he pulled from me and ran towards the front door. Pushing past my mother, he threw on his sneakers and jacket. I ran after him, grabbing his sleeve, and signing to him “No! You stay here, do not go anywhere. You understand?” His pleas to come with me fell out into a stale room as I put on my converse and threw on my heavy sherpa jacket. I signed to the room, “I’m going for Noelle. You two stay here.”
My mother took a step forward, speaking and signing a response “No. We’ll come with you” she stated firmly. She continued without giving me room to argue “We will pick up Noelle and her moms on the way to the church. We need to find your dad.” She moved past us into the hallway closet, she pressed buttons on the safe inside. The soft beeps told me what she was doing. I took a deep breath, startled by my mothers action. She emerged from the pantry with a shotgun, a pistol, and multiple hunting knives. She made eye contact with me, reloading the shotgun and nodded towards the pistol she had placed on the kitchen counter. My lungs shuddered, I wasn’t scared of the gun. I was taught from an early age that the gun was not the one to be scared of, it was the person pulling the trigger. I walked over and picked up one of the serrated hunting knives, putting it in the inner pocket of my jacket, opposite my right hand. Then I grabbed the second one and pushed it towards David, with the handle facing him. He hesitated and looked at me, he was unsure if he should take it. I sighed, walked closer to him, and signed “You’ll need something. Take it, I’ll do my best to keep you from using it.”
He took a deep breath and slowly took it from my grasp, then adjusted his grip on it, assessing its weight distribution. We’ve been taught self defense to use in case of an emergency since we were old enough to understand it. I walked over and loaded the pistol, making sure the safety was on. I tightened my grip on it slightly, then turned to my mom who was waiting for us. I nodded and she nodded back leading us to the front door and outside to the pickup in the driveway. We all got in, and pulled out.
Driving through the neighborhood was like walking in a ghost town, no one was outside, most cars were gone from their places outside their owners houses, it was scary. Fighter jets flew above us towards the city. The car stopped outside Noelle's house, and as I went to open the door an animalistic screech filled the quiet air. I pulled the door closed, locking the car doors and looked around to the best of my ability. My mom turned to tell David about the noise.
I looked towards Noelle's front door, and standing there was her next door neighbor, Nora. Nora went to school with us, she graduated last year but was home for break. My mom started to roll down the window, but I stopped her. Something wasn’t right, she was standing still but twitching aggressively every now and then. From behind us a gunshot popped loudly and Nora’s head snapped around towards us. Something about her body language was feral, she was slightly hunched over herself and looked to be at the brink of foaming at the mouth. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her ivory arms were covered in bulging blue veins. Her jaw was slightly slack, and her pupils were pin pricks. I tilted my head to the side and opened the window a half an inch wide.
The breath I was taking fell short in my chest, the sounds falling from her form were painful to hear. Short grunts and moans escaped her mouth. Her head was twitching like a bird watching its surroundings. Then her eyes locked onto mine, and with slight hesitation she started to sprint towards the car, howling in falsetto. A noise escaped my mouth, something between a gasp and a moan of pain, and my mom stepped on the gas pedal.
As we sped off farther into town, David was freaking out in the back. Desperately asking questions we didn’t know the answers to. I ignored him as I kept my eyes forward, the pit in my stomach growing ever larger. I hoped Noelle was okay.

Chapter 3: The Church

Notes:

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5TQfMlaxc3JBHrnCBVfUlF?si=WaxrjAA6QRaGjkD-qabofw

There's a link to my spotify playlist that i made for this stories vibes. Its not in order of like events, and its also not just the story as a whole, it's also vibes of specific characters or characters relationships. So.. yeah.... have fun with that...

The car squealed to a stop in front of our church, I turned to David and told him to make a b-line for the church. He nodded and pulled out his knife, and I cocked my gun. We both hopped out of the car and he ran inside as I waited for my mom. “Mom? We need to get inside, what are you doing?” I questioned. No response. I walked from the passenger side of the car to the front and as I rounded the corner, I saw what had stopped my mom. One of Noelle’s moms was standing on the other side of the road, she was staring at us. I slowly walked toward my mom, and put a hand on her shoulder. “Mrs. Riley? Are you okay?” I said with a shaky voice. Her head snapped towards me, and she stood there twitching. My hearing was cut out, I was too scared to listen to anything. My eyes widened, she was like an animal. Her blood shot eyes were wide, but they looked scared, almost remorseful. Her clothes and hands were covered in blood. Warm tears ran down my face, I could feel them cool as they hit my cotton shirt. My ears started working again as it sank in, she was covered in blood. “Mrs. Riley, did someone get hurt? Are you hurt?” I exclaimed. I took a few steps forward, and Noelle’s mom screeched “No! Stay away!” She fell to the ground and wrapped her hands around her face. I stopped in the middle of the road, “Why? What happened?” I demanded. Her body started to twitch harder, and she whipped her head up towards us, and she screamed. The same screech that their neighbor had before. “Shit, Mom, go!! The church!” My mothers once frozen still form whipped around and started towards the church. As I went to follow her Noelle’s mom bounded towards me on all fours, pushing off with her back legs, grabbing me with her hands. Her weight was thrown against me and I hit the ground back first. The sound I let out when the air left my lungs was insane. It sounded almost as animalistic as the grunts the monster on top of me was making. I pushed my hands against her neck and shoulder, grateful that she was a small woman. I looked into her eyes hoping there was some way I could reason with her, but all the emotion that I had seen before was replaced by rage. We struggled for a few seconds longer, before I realized it was either me or her. I threw my grip from her shoulder to her face, pushing my thumb against her eyeball. She made a guttural sound in response to the pain but didn’t falter in her attack. The drips of red from her eye ran down my cheek, then blood splattered across my face. The woman went limp against me, the full weight of her dead body against mine. Despite my shaking body, I wiped the blood from my eyes. When I opened them I felt the dead bodies lift off me, and I saw my savior with blonde hair. I hardly had any time to react to what had just happened before I was pulled to my feet. My knees folded at the sudden weight of my body, the shock still coursing through my veins and making me weak. I leaned against the body holding me up, and walked with them. I was too distraught to have worried about who was helping me. “Shit! Ambrose, you need to stand!” a melodic male voice made its way to my ears. The urgency of the command brought me back to the situation. I threw myself onto my feet, pushing off of the boy that was holding to me. Tripping over myself I gathered myself into a standing position, realizing the situation we were in. We were surrounded by the dangerous people we had been seeing on the news. I looked over to the boy that had helped me. Noah was a foot taller than me, despite being 2 years younger. He had shaky hands wrapped around a rifle. I grunted, taking the rifle from him quickly, and pushing him behind me. I held the rifle and looked at the people around us. Some were growling or shrieking, some were foaming at the mouth. I whispered a ‘sorry’ to them and readied the gun in my hands. I then started firing off shots into them. I was trying to clear them so we could get into the church and hopefully get the doors closed behind us. The number of monsters had dwindled greatly and I saw the doors of the church. “Noah!” I shouted at him, he took a few steps back from shooting his pistol and waited for me to continue talking. “We are gonna have to run for it, do you have some sort of knife?” I questioned. “Yeah, I have one in my belt. I also grabbed an axe from inside before I came for you”, he shouted. “Good, throw the axe at my feet,” he did as I said. “Okay when i say ‘go’, we’re gonna make a break for it.” I saw him nod in my peripheral vision. I shot down a few more of the foaming monsters, and shouted “Now!” I dropped to the ground, throwing the gun over my shoulder on the strap, and grabbing the axe at my feet. I stood up slightly and launched myself forward with my back feet, like I was still on the track back in middle school gym, trying to beat my best time, and in turn all the boys in my class. Dodging all the creatures coming my way, I pushed the doors to the church hard and they gave way only slightly. Desperate to get in, I pushed my body weight against them again. This time the doors stopped again, but seconds later they flew open. I fell to my butt and turned myself around, pushing myself to my feet. I turned and watched as Noah ran in and the doors were closed and barricaded again. I stared at the giant, solid doors as they jiggled back and forth. The plank of wood between the handles would only hold for a short time, but it seems others knew that as well. They started to pile the pews against the door. I took a deep breath and turned around towards the rest of the church goers. I turned and came face to face with my father, he put his strong hands on my shoulders. My dad wasn't biologically my father, but he has treated me and David as such since David was born. My biological father was a bastard. He knocked up my mom, and used her faith to get my Pop-pop's money. I was one when they got married, and I don't remember much of the good parts of us three living together. My mom and I ran away when she found out she was pregnant with my brother. When my Pop-pop found out what my bio father had done to us, he decided to marry my mother to a young man in his church. They ended up actually falling in love, and he became my dad. "Ambrose, where is your mother?" He asked. "I made her come in here? She should be in here!" I screamed. "SHE SHOULD BE IN HERE!" I screeched again. My dads eyes widened, "It’s okay, baby girl. It's okay. We'll find her, you're safe, I've got you and David. We'll find your mom." He pulled me into his arms and whispered into my hair. I weeped quietly into his shoulder.

Chapter 4: Memories

Summary:

Some memories come up for Ambrose as we move closer to present time.

Notes:

shorter chapter. sorry it's been so long since i last updated this, school was beating my ass. Though, now that i'm out i'll have more time to pump some shit out for ya. Next chapter will be getting into more present time juicy shit. the real meat, you could say.... sorry not sorry.

David tapped my shoulder, I turned to him. “What’s up, bud?” I asked with the most convincing smile I could muster. He looked up at me, silently calling my bluff, he and I both knew, we were fucked.
“I miss mom and dad” he signed sadly, the tears in the corners of his eyes were just big enough to see.
I sighed and pulled him into a quick hug. When I let go of him, I couldn’t look him in the eye, but I responded anyway, “I know, me too”. I then turned and continued to walk, I heard his steps in the gravel start soon after me.
I looked up, a tall brown haired lady was walking in front of us. Her name was Marianne, but she insisted everyone call her ‘Mah’, so we did. No one wanted to argue with the poor lady. She had lost both her sons in the outbreak, and no one wanted to break her heart more. She was a gentle lady, southern accent and all. She reminded me of my aunt. Mom’s sister, Dolly, was a calm woman. I don’t think I ever heard her raise her voice, never saw her mad. Aunt Dolly was in Seattle when the outbreak hit. Before the internet cut out, she had called my mom a few times. We hadn’t seen the calls until my mom was gone. Dad had tried to call 911 to see what was happening, and when his call failed he asked me to try. I realized I had not grabbed my phone before leaving for the church. I remembered that mom had hers, so I grabbed it from her jacket pocket. I saw about 5 calls from my aunt, and decided to call her back. I entered the phone, and went to the phone call app.
My aunt had left voicemails. I started at the top, hitting play and putting the phone to my ear. My aunt’s voice came through the speaker, “Hey, Sissy” My aunt hasn’t called my mom ‘sissy’ since my pops funeral, “I hope you guys are okay, shit just hit the fan here. Please be safe, those news broadcasts were right, people are going crazy.” the voicemail cut off.
I hit play on the next, “Hey, Sis. Please get back to me. I need to know you’re okay, it doesn’t look good here.” The next three voicemails my aunt left were similar. Until I picked up the last one she left.
The phone played out static, and then a warbled yelp soon after. A crash, the phone hitting the ground, and a scream. Not my aunt, a sharp scream, so loud it hurt my ears. It sounded like those people, the aggressive ones. There was shuffling, two people fighting and then another scream, this time from my aunt. Blood curdling, then more silence. My stomach flipped as I waited through it. The unnatural stillness of the speaker made tears come to my eyes. I stood there waiting for some noise for what seemed like forever. The silence broke, a squelching pushed through the speaker into my ear. In shock, I continued to listen. Wet ripping, the sound permeated my brain until I understood what I was hearing. Something ripping into flesh, wet, raw flesh.
I threw the phone from my ear and crumpled to my knees. Hot tears boiled against my face, my eyes surely swelling as I wept. I heard my father, felt his hands on my back, but he was too far away for me to understand him. I continued to sit there until my body felt weak. Until my eyes stopped leaking, but even so my body racked out sobs.
I remember these moments so perfectly that they feel as real as the day I lived them. The images are burned into the back of my eyelids so deeply I keep them open as long as I can. The memories won’t leave me, but I can use them to power me. I remember those words like they are my own, they might as well be now. Considering the one whose words they used to be is dead.
“Amy? Hun?” A thick southern accent cut through my thoughts, I looked up to Mah. She sighed when my eyes met hers, “We are gonna take a second to breathe”,a pause “Gonna set up shop in this building.” I followed her gaze towards one of the concrete buildings in the small town we had found. I nodded and started my way into the building, waving David along with me.

Notes:

not sorry for that very bad pun in the other notes... not sorry at all for the imagery either. actually I will take your thanks in advance. You're Welcome.

Chapter 5: Love Thy Neighbor

Summary:

some Ambrose trauma, and some David trauma. ya know the works.

The sound of my dagger’s blade against the grid stone reverberated off the walls of the small stone room. We had found a small town, off of a highway, it was picked clean, as expected, but it made for good cover from the elements. The room I sat in now most likely acted as a butchers’ kitchen. The strong concrete walls were lined with tiles, as well as the floor which had a small drain in the middle. The tiles under my boots were tinted pink with old blood, most likely from years ago, but not washed away since the room was safe from any rain. I had found the grindstone hidden away in a corner, and used it to sharpen my daggers blade. Not something I usually take the time to do, but we were snowed in so I had plenty of quiet to work. I used extra water from the snow I had collected, and I was happily taking care of my weapons. Most of which sat lined up on top of the wooden bench that sat against the far wall. The bench had deteriorated a bit and wouldn’t be good for much more than holding decoration, but it did a good enough job of displaying my daggers, machete, and pistol.
I wiped the blade off on an old rag I had found and held it up to the light the small window in the wall gave off. I squinted my eyes, examining my work. There was a small chip taken out from the middle of the dull side of the blade, dented from the wear it’s original owner had put on it when I slammed his hand into a tree trunk to stop his attack on me. When his life had eventually drained from him, I took the dagger with me, it was no use to him anymore. David had taken the mans’ thick winter jacket, which ended up being helpful when the snow started falling.
We had run into the man on our way north, while we were headed to Canada. A woman and a younger boy we had traveled along with for a bit had come from a survivor's development up there, and they had left in search of the boy’s father, who had also left, but a month prior. I thought it was stupid to leave a safe community in search of a dead man, but I held my tongue. We parted ways after a few weeks of survival, as they were headed South, and David didn’t want to go back there. Though, of course, neither did I. Texas was our home at one point, somewhere we had felt safe, but now it was mostly a dead zone.
The woman, Hannah, had said something of a young woman who was helping travelers on their way up to the Canadian border. Hannah had gone on and on about how great of a person she was, how she gave people places to stay when available, or food and clothing when she had things that fit. She said that this woman had helped her and her son, James, get clothes for him. When I asked her name, she said ‘Riley’. As much as I wish my brain hadn’t gone to Noelle immediately, it did. Hannah had noticed my attention went elsewhere and asked what I was thinking of, and I told her of Noelle. I told her that El’s last name was Riley, and hearing the name was a bit sudden. Hannah had only nodded and flashed a sad smile.
“She sounds sweet” Hannah had tried to console me, but I didn’t need it.
“She was,” I entertained her.
“Honestly, sounds a lot like Riley. I think she was from San Francisco though. I don’t know, she said she had traveled a lot. I think you should go to her if you decide to head up to Canada” Hannah continued the conversation with the boys, but I sat silently, staring into the fire. Hung up on her words.
I was brought back to the present when the wind had picked up, making a loud noise. I sighed and threw the rag into a corner and stood to place the dagger with the two others. I had decided we were going to go see this ‘Riley’ character a few days ago. Hopefully once the snow died down we’d be able to make it up there, the location Hannah had marked on our map wasn't much farther West from where we were posted up now. I grabbed the pistol from its spot on the table, checked the safety was on, and then pushed it into the holster that was belted on my thigh. I pushed my hair back with my sweat dusted palms, and took the tie out of it. I pulled the tie onto my wrist and dragged my fingers through my hair, to hopefully smooth it. Though I knew that never worked. I stretched my arms up and popped my stiff shoulder joints, then sighed and walked out into the larger room that seemed to have acted as a kitchen at some point.
We had become lucky with this building, since it was really the only one stable enough to stay in during the windy weather. It was mainly made of concrete, which could make nights cold, but the fireplace in the main room was helpful, and the kitchen thankfully had a gas stove I filled and was able to use to heat food. Hot food was difficult to come by, so this felt like a five star hotel.
After counting the cans of food we had left, I walked into the main room. David was sitting in a tattered arm chair in front of the fireplace. I stamped my foot down twice, and he looked up to me.
“Hey, get your stuff clean?” he signed. I smiled at him and walked to sit on the floor in front of him.
“Yeah, it was nice. Quiet back there. I could only hear the wind.” I signed back. He raised a single eyebrow.
He tilted his head “Is it loud out here? You didn’t say anything about that.” he looked around as if to find what might be loud.
“There isn’t anything ‘loud’. There is just some sort of ambiance out here.” he looked confused.
“I don’t know how to explain it. Most of the time, there is always some sort of noise. Everything makes noise, especially wind." I tried to clarify.
He nodded, he made eye contact with me again. "The hushed. They make noise, right?"
"Yes. Some are super loud. Ear piercing screams." I agreed.
He laughed, and I cocked an eyebrow. He signed to me, "Guess I'm lucky to be deaf for once." He smiled.
I smiled and stood, patting his shoulder. I walked to the window in the corner of the room. Looking out, I surveyed the weather. I turned back to him, "It’s starting to clear up. We'll head out in the morning. We're going to see that Riley girl." I said stiffly. I didn't need him to argue with me. He rolled his eyes and nodded.
"You should get some sleep, in case we have to head out in the morning" I told him and laid on the ground, throwing a tattered wool blanket over me.
David thought it was stupid to go to some lady that we didn't know. He always repeated how we couldn't trust anyone anymore. He would quote the bible just to make a point. "Love thy neighbor doesn't count anymore." He was so scared of other survivors, and I knew why.
David has been scared of strangers since he was two. Around that time I was kidnapped by a fucked up man on my way home from school. We lived two blocks from the elementary school so I would usually walk there and back with some friends. That afternoon my friends were staying after school hours, so I walked the two blocks home. About one block in I realized a car seemed to be following me, when I realized I was right I used my knowledge of the area I was in to try and hide from the man.
I ran through the empty streets trying to find an alleyway to hide in, hoping he would get confused and leave me. I hid behind a dumpster in an alleyway closer to a friend's house. I knew I just needed to get to her house and I'd be safe. When I couldn't see the man's car I had made a break across an open road. Unfortunately, he was waiting for me.
He had grabbed me and put a knife to my face. He said something along the lines of "If you move I'll kill you." Unfortunately for him, I knew he was lying. If he meant that he'd have put the knife on my throat. So I kicked my foot behind me, into his stomach as hard as I could, and pushed my body away from him. He dropped me and screamed in pain.
I ran to my friend's house. I sprinted through their back gate and into the house locking the door behind me. My friend's mom was horrified when I turned up in her dining room, but when she saw the large gash across my face she went into "mama bear mode" as she called it.
I've had a large scar, starting under my left eye and ending on the right side of my chin, since. To my family it was a grim reminder of them almost losing their daughter and sister, but for me it was a reminder of my survival.

Chapter 6: Wait, I know him...

Summary:

this is a way shorter chapter but for good reason, y'all are gonna hate me soon...

I sat straight up, scanning my surroundings. My chest heaved, I looked over to where my brother was sleeping, still unsure if I had been woken by a dream or something I had actually heard. I slowly pulled the blanket off my legs and silently pulled my pistol from its holster. Leaning over, I grabbed a balled up piece of wax paper and threw it into David’s face. He opened his eyes and looked at me. He saw me with my pistol and started to slowly pack up his backpack, keeping his dagger at his side.
A crash rang out for the back room, followed by a heavy thud and a grunt of pain. Someone had just climbed into the back room where all my weapons were. Fuck.
I turned to see David with his backpack on and his pistol in hand. I signed for him to stay here, and be ready to get out through the front door. When he tried to protest I told him it was a human that startled me awake, not some hushed. His face dropped and he nodded. I stood, taking the safety off my gun, and cocked it.
The shuffling in the back room made it seem that this person had no idea what they were doing, like they had just picked a semi put together building and hoped for the best. I could hear what sounded like chains clinking together, though they couldn’t have been very big. I walked slowly through the kitchen, be sure to not step on anything that would make too much noise. As I got to the door of the back room I turned the safety off on my gun and held it up in front of me. I stood silently waiting for more noise to come from behind it.
A sigh, “Fuck, I’m fucked.” A male voice, exasperated. Did he not realize there were others here yet? Maybe he assumed we had turned and when he opened this door there would be rotting corpses to put down.
I had a decision to make, either I take Daniel and we go, leaving my melee weapons behind, or I kick down this door and risk getting hurt. This guy sounds tired, and by the sounds of his footsteps he isn't very big.
I turn my eyesight to the door into the main room, I see Daniel watching waiting for any sign to move into action. I slowly and quietly push a flat palm towards him, and then push a finger to my lips.
Stay there, and stay fucking quiet.
He nodded slightly and I pulled my attention back to the door, there was no sound from behind it anymore. The man was quiet, still. I am so fucked.
I put my finger on the trigger of my gun and kicked the door open. Throwing myself in and putting myself between my weapons and the rest of the room. The man I had heard was standing in the far corner with a bat geared up in his arms. The bat had nails and razor wire modded onto it. He had long, dark dreads, pulled into a messy bun. His eyes were crazy and there was blood on his clothes. I knew him.

Notes:

HA!! I said y'all where gonna hate me.

Chapter 7: I'm Glad You're Alive

Notes:

I AM SO SORRY IVE BEEN GONE SO LONG! GED, THAN WORK, THAN GREIF, THAN MOVING, THAN MORE GRIEF, THAN COLLEGE UGH ITS BEEN SO MUCH!! im in a better place and hoping to have more quiet moments for writing but im sure it is to be few and far between. i hope to give you more, of not only this, but the other on my page, as well as some in the works!!

The man relaxed his arms to his sides, the bat still held in one hand. His eyes remained crazy but softened at the sight of me.
“Lucas?” I let his name slip through my lips. I hadn’t said his name in months. Not since we had to separate.
Lucas’s voice came out raspy, “Ambrose. Holy Shit.” He looked over my face and my body, as if trying to decide if I was real. He then pushed himself from the wall he was rested on and tried to come closer to me.
I put a hand up, and he stopped in response. “You aren’t bit are you?” I started coldly.
He looked up at me. He looked wounded by my question. Then the pain faded from his eyes and he responded, “No. No, I’m not. Somehow.” he took a breath, and continued. “The few others I was with weren’t so lucky. Got stuck in a horde, and we lost her son. She went back for him, that dumbass” He trailed off, muttering swears to himself.
“Are you sure you weren’t bit?” I pipe up. He’s sweating, and looks pale. He could be hungry, or sick, but I can’t take any chances. I push my handgun into its holster, and slowly walk towards the weapons I left sitting on the workbench. I could feel Lucas’s eyes on my back. I put the larger hunting dagger in a holster on my shoulder, and the smaller one in my back pocket. My hand lingered on the machete handle. I picked it up and tested its weight. I turned to look at Lucas.
“You are gonna have to tell me if you’ve been bit hun. Otherwise the death will be pointless.” I looked at his feet, “You and I both know I don’t wanna have to kill ya.”
I saw his eyes widen, he jumped to his feet, “I’m not bit! I ain’t bit, you know that.”
“Then why are you acting like that? You’re sweatin’ and jumpy!” I took a few strong steps towards him. I could feel my mothers accent pushing through my own. My anger felt like her yelling at me for staying out too late on a school night. Accusatory and angry.
“Amy. Ambrose” He soothes. “I- I ain’t bit. I was with a pair of survivors. A woman, and her son. They were screaming for help, got stuck in with a group of hushed. I tried to save ‘em. I did, promise.” his voice cracks. A sob stuck in his throat. “The boy got grabbed, his mom wouldn’t leave him. They both got ripped to shreds.” he sighs, tears being swallowed back in.
Hannah, and James. They were so close, and they died. They must've gotten stuck in the weather and got pushed back up this way, just like David and I. I put my hands down, machete down at my side. “Are you okay?” I ask.
He nods yes. I know he's lying. I don't push. “You hungry?” I question, walking towards him, signaling him to spin around. He spins slowly and I assess his body, all the blood on his clothes isn’t his, I feel relief flow through me.
“I could eat.” he chuckles, his eyes looking haunted. I walk towards him and pull him into my arms.
The last I saw Lucas we had gone our separate ways in Montana, when I told him David and I were going to Canada. Lucas needed to head south more to New Mexico in hopes of finding his extended family, but promised that once he found them he would find his way to the camp in Vancouver.
“Did you find-” I go to ask about his family, he cuts me off.
“Yes. They're gone.” he says flatly. “Where’s David?” he asks, concerned.
“Back in the main room, thought you were gonna try and kill us.” I sigh.
As we walk back into the room I stomp my feet harder on the floor in hopes of not scaring David with the presence of another set of footsteps. He’s sitting in the corner, squatted with a hand on the ground feeling for my return. I smile at him as I step to the side and reveal Lucas. David stands, eyes wide and hands at his sides. He walks forward as if examining if Lucas was real, then throws himself into Lucas's outstretched arms for a hug.
Lucas and him signed back and forth for a while, eventually I asked “So, are you coming to Vancouver with us?”
David and I look at him, and Lucas looks at me with a softness in his eyes “If you’ll still have me” he says turning towards David so he could read his lips.
I clap his back and laugh at him “You’re stuck with us now.” I say and sign along. David smiles as I pass an open can of beans to Lucas. “Eat, and rest. We are leaving at first light.” I say and I cross the room and prop myself in an elevated windowsill.
David lays down shortly after, quickly falling asleep. Lucas moves across the room, light on his feet, something you learn quickly living with David. Since he was a baby, any heavy movement scares him awake. Lucas pulled himself up into the windowsill with me, and placed his legs over mine smiling at me. The moonlight cascades softly over his dark skin, lighting up his shape cheekbones, and round hazel eyes.
He rubs my leg with his hand “I’m so glad you’re alive. Both of you.” he confirms.
I smile at him, and lace my fingers with his, “I’m glad you are too.”

Notes:

another short one, but it's late and i have a test tomorrow so i hope to sleep soon. i love you all, and thank you if you've been waiting for this! i hope to see you soon <33

Notes:

Thank you for reading!!! If there is any tags you would add for this story, please comment and let me know. Also please like and comment, I'm going to try and keep updates regular but this is more of a 'passion project' type of thing, so I'm only really writing when the motivation strikes!!!