SuperDead

CHAPTER 1 – THE LAST MAN ON EARTH



The man who would eventually be known as Bushbaby rose from his bed. He would not care for the name. It was the name that would find him, giving him no say in the matter.

He was not the most physically fit of his peers, and for that reason he had some doubt as to why he deserved to be here and so many others did not. Some might have still called him a boy, but that was in a different time. He lived on his own now, he was a man and his age was not important.

Because he was still in school when it all began, he often graded himself. For his efforts on staying alive, he gave himself an A+, maybe even an A++. There was nobody to argue with him. Everyone he knew got an F and was expelled. He knew he was right because he was still alive.

He did not mark his calendar the day this all started, and he did not remember how long ago that was. Over that time, he only came really close to dying one time. That was the first day. Ever since then he played it safe.

On a nightstand next to his bed were four things he took everywhere, a night vision helmet, a baseball bat, and a pair of gloves. The fourth thing was a gun. Although he never used it, he still carried it, just in case. Additionally, he had a backpack that he wore while searching for supplies.

He took his objects and went about his day, or rather, his night. Bushbaby operated at night because he deemed it safer. There was less chance of being spotted. Zombies were cold blooded, he figured, which would make them slower at night.

Most of his time awake was spent between staying inside, passing the time by playing board games against himself, or going into abandoned houses and scavenging.

His chores were few. His helmet had to be manually recharged. He accomplished this by inventing his own charger. He had an emergency flashlight and a weather radio that could each be recharged with a hand pump. He tore out the recharging mechanisms and wired them into his helmet. It took both hands to generate enough voltage to charge the helmet. His other chore was to stay in shape with routine exercises around the house and periodic jogging.

He did not have the body type that added a lot of muscle mass, but still, his efforts paid off somewhat. He periodically checked himself out in the mirror to see what he looked like. Not that it mattered, because nobody ever saw him. He was a little bonier than he wanted to be.

Deciding it was time to go outside, he gathered his important things and lifted the barricade from the front door. A quick scan with his night vision revealed the coast was clear. He began jogging. All of the nearby houses, he had been in already.

In the typical home, he was disappointed how few valuable supplies he found. Most people only had a fraction of what he originally had. Still, it was enough for him to live off of.

Finally he came to a house he had not previously looted. As usual, the house was locked, but that never stopped him. This world was one without rules, and there was no reason to even feel the slightest guilt for virtually anything. If someone’s entire family died, then there was nobody to claim their possessions.

After breaking out the window glass with his bat, Bushbaby was inside the basement. In the basement, he walked by a very impressive looking safe. He noticed it, but did not waste his time with it. It was not the first safe he encountered, so he knew from experience he was not going to be able to open it.

There were a few food items on some shelves, but there was nothing that particularly excited him. He filled his backpack with some various canned goods and a few bottles of water.

Up the stairs he saw two dead bodies in the middle of the living room, a common sight for him. It was alarming the first time, but now he was used to it.

He opened the kitchen cupboards. There was more interesting food here, including peanut butter! Sampling it revealed it was still good. He made room for it in his backpack.

From behind, movement grabbed Bushbaby’s attention. He spun around to find those dead bodies weren’t so dead after all. Two more zombies entered from bedrooms down the hall for a total of four.

To create a bottleneck so he would only have to fight one zombie at a time, Bushbaby quickly ran out the front door where he waited for the first one. It was easy work, until more zombies came out from the shadows of other houses, interested in the commotion. They probably did not know exactly where he was, but they could gradually hone in on the sound.

Zombies were mentally lazy. They do not think, just react. Where one zombie went, others would follow, especially if it looked like a zombie was onto something. For the three or four zombies he already noticed coming his way, there were probably an additional three or four behind each one, and so on.

The situation had become too hairy for Bushbaby’s liking. He prided himself on his awareness, and he could not stay hyper aware of his surroundings while he was fighting. During a fight was a zombie’s best chance of sneaking up on him.

He decided to flee. His backpack was already full, so there was no point to sticking around. First, he employed a trick he often used when the going got tough. Zombies weren’t the brightest creatures, and could be fooled. He did this with sparklers. Zombies always went after sparklers. He lit the sparklers and dropped them before leaving the scene. This way the zombies wouldn’t follow him home. He managed to make it home and barricade the door without anything following him.

He would die someday, but until then he planned on doing what he did best, surviving. He was not a fearful person. Fear is an emotion. He acted out of logic, but the outcome was the same, protect himself, and avoid risks. Who died and made me so smart? He asked himself. The answer, of course, was everybody else.





CHAPTER 3 – THE MOVE



Banging on the door, courtesy of a pack of zombies, woke Bushbaby the next morning. It had been persistent all night, but after a while he got used to it and fell asleep. Perhaps his subconscious brain detected something unusual. He looked around but saw nothing.

One bullet, Bushbaby thought to himself. He tossed the gun from hand to hand. It was a bullet he had been saving for a long time for an emergency. This was not that situation. He set the gun down and got up.

As he made his way to the bathroom, he pondered, I should have killed those zombies when I had the chance. He was right. He was now trapped hoping the zombies eventually would move on. From past experience, he learned they would gradually disperse over three or four days.

He squeezed some toothpaste onto his toothbrush and wet the bristles. Fortunately, nobody died in the town with the water running, so there was still water in the tower. Once, such water was considered a necessity, but necessities were a thing of the past. Now he thought himself lucky to have such a luxury. Eventually, it would run out.

When he turned to leave the bathroom, it was there. He was face to face with a zombie! He was out of the habit of using words, so despite the surprise, he made no utterance.

With a quick shove, he knocked the zombie off balance. He was in full action mode as he put his protective gloves on and jogged towards the front door. He knew what was happening. If one got in, more would follow, if they had not already done so. Zombies travel in clusters, perhaps a remnant of the humanity they once had.

At the front door, the banging persisted, but the door was still intact. They must have gotten in a different way. He pocketed his gun and grabbed his helmet, backpack, and baseball bat.

The zombie sauntered toward him, no less than expected from a zombie. With the bat he loved so, he beat its brains in. By the time he finished, two more approached and he could hear sounds of others in the basement.

Bushbaby was a person who did not like risk, so he prepared for every possible scenario he could think of. For this particular scenario, he had a plan. When he first moved in, he drug a trampoline from a dead neighbor’s yard to his own, and placed it strategically under an upstairs bedroom window.

He bolted between the two zombies and made his way to the bedroom. Two more zombies were already present, and they immediately took a liking to him. The first thing he did was stuff a travel container full of water into his backpack. He kept this water container in case he ever had to flee his house.

Working quickly, he opened the window and pushed out the screen. Beneath, zombies surrounded the house and even, to an extent, the trampoline. He had practiced the jump, but never with an audience like this one.

The zombies closed in on him from behind. He spun around and, using the bat, pushed them back to get some space. More zombies filled in from the hallway. They overpowered him and began pushing him back towards the window.

At the last second, with his back to the window, he let go of the bat and jumped out backward. Without being able to see it coming, he barely got enough distance to reach the trampoline. In a way, that worked to his favor, as his proximity to the edge launched him sideways, away from the zombies around his house.

Thud, he landed on gravel, scraping various body parts. Fortunately, his helmet protected his head. Resisting the urge to lay there and recover for a minute, he got up, uninjured just enough to jog away faster than the zombies. Looking back at his former house, gave him a full appreciate for the amount of zombies he was dealing with.

Bushbaby continued his jog along the highway. Now that he was on the move, he had to answer a question, where should I go?

He lived about twenty miles from what used to be a major university. It was probably a bad idea to go there. One of his risk minimizing strategies was avoiding large population centers, because areas that once held lots of people were now areas that might have lots of zombies.

Despite that, he had long been curious to see the college. He would have been a student there by now if society was still in tact. Perhaps never meeting anyone again would be just as bad as dying. He made up his mind, he for the first time, he chose the more dangerous option.

Cars littered the road and ditches. Many of these cars were driven until they ran out of gas, or wrecked. Abandoned cars never had keys in them, and most had their gas siphoned out of them. Nobody knew where the keys might be, probably in the stomach of a zombie somewhere. Cars were rarely good for anything more than a night sleep.

If Bushbaby stopped jogging too soon and started walking, he would not lose the zombies. He had jogged at least two miles before slowing to a walk. If he was jogging at least twice as fast like he calculated, he must have been at least a mile ahead of them.

On what used to be an interstate, mile marker signs passed as he debated if he should make the walk all at once or break it up into two segments. Eventually, with about eight miles left, he decided he was done walking and found an unlocked car to take a nap in. He looked at the ignition, indeed the keys were missing.

He lay awake for a long time. It was not frustrating not to be able to sleep like it would have been in the past. These days he had no schedules or commitments. He did not have to wake up at a certain time for school, work, or any other such nonsense.





CHAPTER 4 – DEAD ZOMBIES



Bushbaby arrived at the edge of the city. The streets were sparsely populated with zombies. Lacking a good weapon, instead of drawing attention to himself, he stayed out of view as much as possible. He made his way down the main street.

There were dead zombies here. They do not kill each other, so it must have been a live human that did the killing. It was impossible to tell how long ago it happened. A recently killed zombie looks about the same as one which has been dead for months.

In the distance, he heard a gunshot. Only a person can shoot a gun. Towards the sound of the gunshot he walked. For the first time in awhile, he felt excited. He had the chance to find a friend and actually improve his life, instead of just trying not to lose it. There is a big difference between gaining and not losing.

Excited, he picked up the pace toward the source of the gunfire. There were not as many zombies as he would expect in a city. Maybe they were all dormant in various buildings, or maybe they have mostly been killed already. Still, it was taking too much time to try to sneak around them all.

As he kept thinking about meeting someone, he got more excited. Obviously, he preferred meeting a girl, but was expecting a guy. Maybe it was more than one person. Maybe it was a new society.

Shortly, he was jogging. Another gunshot, louder this time, proving he was getting closer. He started running quite hard, and he stopped being sneaky. He darted through buildings, which prevented them from following his scent.

He was proud of himself for maintaining such a good pace without tiring. It was his lifestyle that deserved credit. Before the end, he would sit in school for most of the day. After school there was homework, TV, or video games. The new he was much more physically active.

Another shot rang loud and close and he realized he was almost there. Suddenly, he came across a large open area and stopped, too nervous to let his presence be known yet. Running into an open field with a sniper picking off zombies might not end well.

If he walked straight through, the shooter might mistake him for a zombie and shoot him, or just shoot him for fun. It was a world without rules He opted to take a long way around, through some buildings that surrounded the open field. He had a strong preference to see the person he himself was seen.

When he moved out of the final building in his path, he saw a large number of dead zombies, indicating he was in the right place. Whoever lived in that next building was on top of the situation. He sprinted up to the black steel doors.

He pulled the handle to open it, Locked. The first locked building he encountered on the campus so far. There was a small head-sized window, reinforced by woven wires. He looked through it and saw no one. After unsuccessfully trying to force the doors opened, he gave up and started looking for a rock.





CHAPTER 5 – THE NEXT GUY



A girl sat up in the 4th floor of a college dormitory, picking off zombies with a high powered rifle. She used to sit here every morning, however it had been several weeks since the last time. Her ammunition was low and she wanted to make it last. Today she decided that she might as well just use up the rest so she could stop worrying about it.

She was still wearing just her underwear as she looked out the window. Of course, she was also wearing her impenetrable Kevlar body suit, as it couldn’t be taken off. Her other weapon saw even more action than her rifle; it was a simple sword. She found it hanging on the wall in one of the doom rooms she looted. For a reason she did not understand, some guys liked to mount swords on their wall.

She focused in on a zombie through the scope of her high powered rifle. She watches it stumble along aimlessly. It was a girl zombie, wearing Greek letters; it had belonged to a sorority. She did not like sororities.

“Sorority slut,” she said as she blew its brains out. The echoes from the bullet lingered for a second. It was a beautiful sound in its own way. It was the sound of humans killing zombies, or progress.

Zombies were not really a threat now that she was used to them. Even if a zombie managed to sneak up on her, there was little it could do through the Kevlar. Because of this, killing them was more of a hobby than anything else. She worried a little about being completely surrounded, but that had yet to happen to her.

The bullets, she found with the gun. She found hundreds in the original stash, but never found any more after that. In the early days she placed a great deal of importance on having it, but that was not the case anymore. In fact part of her was glad there was no reason to lug around the gun anymore.

Two zombies wandered a bit farther away. She zoomed in on them with her scope. When she was about to fire on the first one, she noticed something. These zombies were not aimless like zombies usually were. They seemed to be heading somewhere specific.

“Where are you going?” she asked nobody. In a different time, she was a talkative person. She still spoke more than necessary, but it was either to herself or a zombie. These were not real conversations, but without talking at least a little, she felt weird.

Zombies were only attracted to one thing, people. She was interested in finding out whom. It would not have been the first person the zombies have led her to, but all the others had health problems, terminal bite wounds. Because of this, she kept her hopes low.

Now dressed and wielding the sword instead of the gun, she walked down the stairs to the black steel exit doors. She looked out a small square window, about the size of her head. The window was reinforced by woven wire. A quick glance outside revealed just one zombie wandering about. “How did I miss you?” she asked herself.

The doors locked automatically when shut and were very secure, which was one of the reasons she chose to keep living in the building. The lowest level even had bars across the windows. Even if zombies broke in, there was still another set of such doors protecting each floor.

She kept a brick on the inside that she used to prop the doors open when she went out. She readied herself to slide the brick with her foot as she pushed open the doors.





CHAPTER 6 –FIRST SIGHT



Bushbaby picked up a hefty-sized rock and turned toward the door with intent to break the window in hopes of reaching a handle. The door swung open, catching him entirely off guard. A girl jumped out at him. He took a step back and tripped over a zombie corpse. She raised her sword menacingly. He fell backwards with the rock flying out of his hand. He quickly whipped his gun out.

He tried to yell “wait,” but it had been ages since he used his voice. All that came out was a raspy wheezing sound. He began coughing.

“Did you say something?” the girl asked.

After an episode of coughing, his voice returned. “I meant to say wait,” Bushbaby responded after gathering himself. “I haven’t talked to anyone for so long I almost forgot how. I only have one bullet left, and I haven’t been saving it for you. By the way, I’m human”

She smirked. “I can tell. I’ve never seen a zombie that clumsy.” She lowered her sword and offered him a hand. He accepted. Her hand, along with the rest of her body, was covered in a knitted yellow thread.

She was beautiful in his eyes, exactly what he was afraid to hope for, a non-dead woman. She was technically the most desirable woman he knew, being that she was the only one. She would have still been very attractive even in a normal world, she was in college, after all. There were a few seconds where the two just looked at each other without speaking until Bushbaby broke the silence.

“I can hardly believe my eyes,” Bushbaby blurted out. He put his gun away.

“I won’t say I’m not happy to see you too,” the girl explained. “But it doesn’t matter what I want. I try not to want things, it just leads to disappointment.”

“In what way?” he asked.

“The people I meet, if they aren’t dead already, they’re close,” she answered. “If a zombie bites you, you die, slowly, and then you turn into one, then you try to kill me. Then, I have to kill you. Might as well just do it now.”

“Yes I know, but if I was bitten by a zombie, don’t you think I would be the first to know about it?” he asked.

She nodded, “Yes, but would you be the first to tell me about it? Maybe not. Strip.”

“You mean like, take my clothes off?” he asked.

“Nothing personal, just business,” she assured him.

Bushbaby started to take his clothes off but paused. “I’m the one with the gun,” he reasoned. “You strip.”

“Yes, but you already said you wouldn’t use it,” she countered.

“Shouldn’t we at least exchange names first?” he asked.

“No, I’m checking for bites first,”

Out of excuses, Bushbaby removed his shirt. She circled him, looking very closely. He was obviously younger than her, but not bad looking. She preferred him to be a bit less boney. She kept on task and refused to think too much about him in that way. She noticed some scratches around his face area, nothing more.

She finished looking at his upper body. “You’re definitely pale, but I don’t see any bites. Pants.”

As he took off his pants, he wondered about sex. It seemed logical to him, but he did not know if she felt the same way. He thought, when it comes to sex, women are stupid. Would she even care if the survival of the species depended upon it?

He stood there in his underwear, in full view. Normally you would want to get to know someone before being this exposed, but it was a different world, and normal did not apply.

A thought popped into Bushbaby’s head, so he said it, “I didn’t jump out of a second story window to be raped at sword point.” He meant to keep the mood light.

“You can keep your underwear on,” she assured him.

She looked at him in his underwear. It was easy to see he had no bites. Her mind quickly started to wander. What would happen next? She was not a cautious person. She threw out caution a long time ago, back when she decided she was not killable by zombies. This was not a zombie though, it was a male, and she was a female. Still, something was holding her back. She wanted to keep things as impersonal as possible, at least for now.

“I know what you’re thinking.” She said to him. “You’re a guy, so you want us to have sex.”

“What?” he said innocently. “No.”

She stared him down, saying nothing.

“Well yes,” he continued, “yes and no.” He did not know how to get out of the conversation. “It crossed my mind, but it’s not like a big deal.”

She felt bad for putting him on the spot. To lighten the mood, she slapped his butt. “You’re good,” she said. The situation was still awkward.

“Thanks,” he said dryly. “Now you.”

“I don’t think so, that wouldn’t be proper,” she said.

“It’s strictly business,” he said hopefully.

“Just put your pants back on before you get a boner.” As soon as she said it, she felt embarrassed. It had been so long since she talked socially, it felt weird. She decided to switch gears back to what she knew, zombies.

A distant zombie was still moving in the same direction she noticed from her window. She realized it was not Bushbaby drawing their attention. She walked in that direction. “This way,” she bossed.

Bushbaby hurried to finish putting his clothes back on and caught up. “You are in charge now?” he asked.

“If I was supposed to follow you, I’d have come to your place,” she responded. “By the way, why did you come here?”

“I used to plan on attending college here. When those plans changed, I still wanted to come here. I couldn’t stand my new roommates anymore.”

She cut him off, “roommates?”

“Yeah, zombie roommates,” he said.

“You couldn’t defend your place against zombies? Strike two,” she jabbed.

“What was strike one?” he asked.

“You suck at fighting,” she answered.

He let that comment slide. “Anyway, I figured it was a good day for travel.”

The college girl changed the subject. “I saw a number of zombies headed this way,” she said. “I want to find out why.”

Bushbaby questioned her, “you want to go to the place with lots of zombies?”

“I have to find out what they’re after.” Her logic was sound, so he followed.



CHAPTER 10 – BACKSTORY



Wolverine first met Kangaroo on the outskirts of a large city. She had taken residence there for the simple reason that she found a flier. The flier was from something called The Organization for the Maximization of Survivors. According to the flier, to join, one must simply get their attention.

Wolverine dressed in leather. Being the only customer, she had her pick of whatever clothes she wanted. Leather provided a good deal of protection, and in her opinion, it looked good on her. Additionally, it was fun to wear.

Was the organization still around? Did it ever really get started in the first place? She did not know. Due to the communications grid being down, and most people dead, if the organization did exist, it was probably small and local. There were no other prospects for a civilization, so every day she would venture deeper into the city killing zombies, trying to get the attention of the organization.

Her labor got her nothing but perpetual discouragement. Day after day she killed zombie after zombie. Killing zombies became boring. Finally, one day, something changed.

Another woman came into town. She bounded along efficiently on her two prosthetic legs. Because most of her leg was mechanical, it did not require much energy and she could run great distances without tiring. She kept up a good pace, normally opting to run around zombies instead of killing them. If she felt the need to dispatch one, a well placed kick to the head with her metal foot would do the trick. She needed space to kick, so it was very important for her not to get surrounded.

She knew from what she was running, but did not know to where she was running.

As she ran, she looked forward to make sure she avoided any obstacles, as well as glancing side to side to note the zombies. She never looked up, which was why she was completely surprised by an ambush from a low roof. Pinned to the ground and off her feet, she was helpless.

Fortunately for her, it was Wolverine. “Did I get your attention?” asked Wolverine, helping Kangaroo back to her feet.

“If you weren’t trying to kill me, why did you do that?” Kangaroo asked.

Wolverine studied the face of Kangaroo. “To get your attention. Who are you?”

“Would it sound stupid if I said I’ve been calling myself Kangaroo?”

“No, I like it,” Wolverine answered. She wanted to stay on her good side, hopeful that she was with the organization.

“I don’t really like that my horrific leg injuries are the most noticeable thing about me, but that’s life I guess. Can I call you Wolverine?” Kangaroo asked.

“Yeah, sure. Are you with the organization?” At the time, Wolverine did not care what this girl called her. She would soon find out though, that this name would stick.

“What organization?” Kangaroo shifted side to side, making sure her legs were still fully functional.

Wolverine showed her the flier. It was in pretty bad shape, but still legible.

Kangaroo grabbed the flier and studied it. “No, but I am looking for help.”

Wolverine could not mask her disappointment. “Sorry, I’m not looking to help, and your name is stupid.”

Kangaroo realized she may have missed an opportunity. She certainly knew an organization, even if it was not the one Wolverine was looking for. Maybe it was not too late to get Wolverine on her side. “I know some people, they are doing well. Now that I think about it, maybe it is the same organization to make that flier.”

“Ok, I’m intrigued,” Wolverine said, sticking around.

Talking Wolverine back was easier than she expected. She felt somewhat guilty but she knew she had to do it. To assuage her guilt, she disclosed, “It might be dangerous.” It was an understatement to say the least.

“I like danger, my life is getting too repetitive.”

Would she have agreed even if I told her the full truth? Kangaroo wondered. Probably. However, Kangaroo was not willing to rock the boat now that she was getting what she wanted.

With Kangaroo leading the way, they exited the city. Unnoticed to them, Kangaroo had racked up quite a few zombie followers. Before encountering Wolverine, she had been through much of the city.

They walked and talked the rest of the day with Kangaroo leading the way. Kangaroo discovered that it was actually more difficult to go slow than fast.

“How much farther? We’ve been walking all day.” Wolverine was used to far more action than this.





CHAPTER 16 – NIGHT AND DAY



After leaving the campfire, Bushbaby went into the dark to collect himself. There was still enough light from the moon and stars to see. He was emotionally high strung from telling his story. His perception that nobody seemed to appreciate what he went through made it worse. He was just a teenager and wasn’t great dealing with emotions even when things were normal. Since then, he hadn’t felt anything, and was unable to deal with what he was feeling now. In fact, he felt literally nauseated.

It was obvious to Armadillo that Bushbaby left the group to get some time alone, but she assumed she would be welcomed. She found him laying on his back, looking up at the stars. She lay down next to him.

For a moment, neither said anything. Without actively listening, they heard the banter from the rest of the group at the fire. Eventually Armadillo spoke, “I enjoyed this last night.”

“I’m glad.”

“I’m enjoying it again right now. It’s weird. I could have done this anytime by myself, but I didn’t.”

During the day, Armadillo was very level headed. She had occasional romantic thoughts but easily suppressed them, focusing instead on the concerns of the day. At night, it reversed. Those romantic thoughts were in the forefront of her brain. All the thoughts about whether or not it was a good idea to get involved with a man that she had during the daytime, they disappeared.

She rolled onto her elbow and looked at his face again. “Why did you come out here?” she asked.

“Sorry, I just needed a minute,” he said

Armadillo smiled, “We'll need more than that.” She leaned down and kissed him on the lips. It was not the first time she kissed a boy, but being that anybody who knew that was dead, it felt like a first.

She referenced his earlier comment about sometimes regretting being the one stuck living. “I’ve regretted living a few times too, but not since you found me”. She kissed him again and held it.

It was literally the first girl Bushbaby kissed. It sent chills up his spine. As usual in a strange situation, he thought too much. Should I just lay here? Should I sit up and lean into it? He put his hands to the side of her head and went with it.





CHAPTER 15 – WANDERER



“Hello?” asked an unfamiliar voice. It came from behind Kangaroo, who was staring into the fire.

“Hello?” the voice repeated. Kangaroo turned to see the unfamiliar face of a young woman. She let out a startled scream and fell over as she tried to get up.

Porcupine jumped up first, the rest followed, ready for action. They stared at the girl waiting for her to do something.

She was clearly not aggressive when she spoke, “I saw your fire and had to come here.”

Gorilla blurted out the first thing on his mind, as he always did. “A girl? The ratio!”

The first thing that came to Porcupine’s mind was more useful. “Where did you come from?” he asked.

“I’m not really sure,” she responded innocently.

Porcupine questioned further, “Were you attacked? How have you survived?”

“Survive? What do you mean?”

“Haven’t you been attacked by zombies?” Porcupine asked? He was a little frustrated by the fact that she was making absolutely no sense, and she did not even realize it. She seemed completely innocent though, but he did not trust her.

“Zombies? No, never,” she responed.

Wolverine shouted, “What are you doing here?”

“I saw the fire and came this way,” There were no cracks in her aura of innocence.

Porcupine kept asking questions, hoping to understand something about this girl. “Have you ever seen zombies?”

She thought for a second before answering, “I’m not sure”

“You're not sure if you've ever seen a zombie?” asked Wolverine.

Kangaroo spoke next, “What’s your name?”

“My name…” The visitor paused for thought.

“You don't remember that either?” Wolverine said.

Kangaroo finally came up with an idea that she thought would help. “Please, tell us about yourself.”

“I guess I can only really remember coming here,” she said.

Wolverine couldn’t take it anymore. “Because you saw the fire, you came this way. This clearly isn’t working out, we should get rid of her.”

Kangaroo objected, “We don't just get rid of people!”

“We do if we don’t trust them,” Wolverine responded.

Porcupine added, “I agree, we don’t need her, why take a risk.”

Kangaroo stuck to her opinion. “We can't just leave a human! There aren't that many left.” She calmed herself down. “Alright, it’s a group decision. We’ll just take a group vote. And you can’t be mad if you disagree.” Kangaroo raised her hand and said, “All in favor?”

Kangaroo, Gorilla, and Junkyard vote yes against Wolverine and Porcupine who voted no.

Kangaroo snuck a whisper to Wolverine, “maybe she’s with the organization.”

Wolverine conceded the vote. “Fine, but I'm checking for bites.”

“Actually, may I?” asked Kangaroo. She guessed that this girl was from the same place she visited, the place she lost her legs, and the place she was trying to get back to with her new friends as backup, the worst place imaginable. She got out with her sanity, but worried this girl was not so lucky.

Kangaroo looked at the new girl’s arms, neck, and legs. There were a few weird looking scars but no bites. She made the guys turn around while she checked under the new girl’s clothes. Kangaroo quietly whispered to the girl, “I know what you've been through, I've been there too.”

The new girl responded in a normal voice. “You’ve been where too?”

Kangaroo cringed. She was just trying to be comforting, but it backfired. Everyone stared, trying to figure out what they were talking about. Kangaroo had to think fast.

“I mean I’ve been alone too,” is what she came up with. It was good enough, her friends bought it. “Turn back around!” she demanded of Gorilla and Junkyard.

Kangaroo finishes her inspection of the girl. “She’s clean.”

“Does this mean I can stay?” the new girl asked.

Kangaroo responded, “yes.”

“For now,” Wolverine added ominously. She held up her claws in the light of the fire in a threatening manor.





CHAPTER 17 – CONTACT



Armadillo came back to the campfire. She was quickly filled in about the new girl. When Bushbaby rejoined the group, he sat between Kangaroo and the new girl, not even realizing she was there.

Kangaroo noticed how messy Bushbaby’s hair was. “You got some junk in your hair,” she said as she cleaned some leaves out of it. It clearly annoyed Wolverine, as she had recently decided she was going to make a play for Bushbaby’s affections.

As Bushbaby was getting his hair picked through by Kangaroo, he saw, immediately next to him, the new girl. Caught off guard, he fell over. Wanderer stared at him silently as he got back up.

Porcupine explained, “She's traveling with us, we voted, deal with it.”

“Ok, Hi?” Bushbaby said.

“Hi,” the new girl answered back.

Wolverine explained preemptively, “And she doesn't know or remember anything so don't ask.”

Bushbaby did not quite get it, asking, “Do you know any other people?”

The new girl just shrugged.

“Right, nothing,” Bushbaby realized.

Time passed and the fire dwindled. Everyone slept except Armadillo who lay with her eyes open, staring at the fire. Now that everyone was asleep, she could here the intermittent breeze along with the cracking of flames. Clouds had rolled in. Soon they would cover the moon and it would be completely dark.

She was staring at Bushbaby when a foot stepped right in front of her face. It was new girl, on a path into the night.

Armadillo got up to follow her. She knew nothing of this girl, and wanted to see what she would do if she thought nobody was watching. This new girl acted as if she was moving with a purpose.

Where is she going? Armadillo thought. She continued following her away from camp into the darkness. She finally decided to say something to the new girl. She caught up to her and asked “Where are you going?”

“I'm following a voice,” she answered. “It says keep going.” The new girl stumbled. Armadillo grabbed her hand to steady her. She kept walking. Armadillo followed cautiously.

“I don’t hear a voice,” Armadillo said. She remembered what Bushbaby said about concentrating on listening. She closed her eyes for a second and listened.

She heard a mechanical voice say, “Keep walking.” Her eyes sprang open.

“Wait,” she insisted. The girl stopped, allowing Armadillo to find a small device in her ear. The device had a small antenna that disappeared into her hair. Kangaroo must have missed it. “Oh sh-”

She looked up, just in time to get clubbed on the head and knocked unconscious.





CHAPTER 18 – THE SITUATION CHANGES



Bushbaby woke up, not knowing why. He fell asleep staring at Armadillo. Her absence was the first thing he noticed.

He closed his eyes to listen. He heard some rustling noises. Was it just the wind? Maybe and Animal, he wondered. He got up to his feet. Nothing else is suspicious. Other than Armadillo everyone was around. Then he remembered the new girl. She was also missing.

Over where Armadillo was sleeping, he looked for clues. Armadillo’s sword was still there. He picked it up. It did not make sense. If that new girl turned into a zombie, she would have just attacked someone, not snuck away with them. Zombies did not make complex plans to lure victims.

He decided to gently shake Porcupine awake. “They’re gone,” he said.

Porcupine was very tired, “mmm?” was all that came out.

“Armadillo and that other girl are missing,” Bushbaby explained.

“mmm, ok.” He got up slowly to a sitting position.

Bushbaby’s adrenaline was already flowing; he was ready to go. “I heard something coming from this direction.”

Porcupine needed a minute to muster up the energy to rise. Bushbaby hurried in the direction of the rustling he heard previously. He tripped over Wolverine's claws and fell onto Gorilla. They shared an awkward moment as he is on top of him.

“Man, get the hell off me.” Gorilla griped.

“Sorry,” Bushbaby responded as he scrambled to his feet. “Look, something happened. I’m not sure what yet, but people are missing and I heard some noises.”

“Alright, they messed with my sleep. Someone’s going to pay.” Gorilla proceeded to bang a rock on junkyard's armor to wake everyone up.

He paused to allow everyone time to process the wakeup call, before saying, “Someone's missing. We're going to go find them.”

“Who's missing? What the hell is going on?” asked Wolverine in a tired and angry voice.

Bushbaby answered, “Armadillo and the new girl.”

Wolverine complained, “I don’t care about that stupid weirdo, and Armadillo hates me anyway. I'm not sticking my neck out”

Bushbaby spoke with some urgency, “Come on, the difference between life or death could be a matter of minutes for them.”

Wolverine did not change her stance. “We all survive on our own.”

Gorilla grabbed Bushbaby’s arm. “Bushbaby, we don't have time for this. We'll go by ourselves.”

“Right, What? Ourselves?” he asked.

Porcupine stood up. “I'm in too.”

“Don't be crazy, you have no idea which direction to even start,” said Wolverine.

“I think I might have heard something in this direction,” Bushbaby explained.

Kangaroo had been sitting in silence while everyone else bickered. She finally decided to speak. “I know.”

“You know what?” Bushbaby asked. “We really need hurry here.”

“I know which direction to go.” She had everyone’s undivided attention. She continued, “The fact that Wolverine kissed me isn’t my only secret. We aren't the only ones here.”

Gorilla interjected, “You kissed? I knew it!”

“You are with the organization. I knew it, no wait, that doesn’t make sense. What are you talking about?” Wolverine asked, flustered.

Kangaroo explained, “There is no stupid organization. I just let you believe that so you would help me. It's more like an organization for the maximization of zombies.” She had everyone’s attention. “I’ll tell you everything, but the short version because we should probably hurry.”





CHAPTER 19 – THE STORY OF KANGAROO



With some rope volunteered by Porcupine, Kangaroo had been tied to a tree. Bushbaby, Porcupine, and Gorilla went looking for the base, following Kangaroo’s directions. She did not give perfect directions, because she was in a panic when she fled. While they were gone she filled Wolverine and Junkyard in on the details of what she knew.

Kangaroo’s story started out when she was lost in every way imaginable. She was the one out of millions of total lost people that came across the facility.

She did not know nor care what they were doing there. She just cared that they were nice to her. They gave her food, water, and a roof.

It was soon apparent to her, that the kindness was a façade. They wanted something in return. There were no other women there and they needed her to fill the void.

There was one man who was decent, he protected her. When she panicked and ran from one of the guys, zombies attacked her as soon as she got out the door. They got her legs. The one decent man acted quickly, amputating her legs and burning them to stop the bleeding. She passed out in the process, a good thing because there was no time for pain killers.

From then on he helped her hide. During that time she learned it was a research lab for creepy zombie experimentation. The legs that became Kangaroo’s were originally used on a zombie.

They had plans to destroy all the research and escape together, starting a new life. With a maintenance worker named Jerry, they worked on a homemade flame thrower, planning to burn everything. He adopted the name, Dragon.

Jerry was an odd one. He was mentally handicapped and had a bad limp. Before they finished the flamethrower, Jerry ratted them out. He might not have even known what the consequences would be.

At that point, they tried to flee. She used her legs to jump over some guys and escape out an emergency exit tunnel, which was made in case the building ever got surrounded by zombies. The Dragon did not make it. She promised him she would come back with help.

“Can you untie me know?” asked Kangaroo. “This is bullcrap.”

While Wolverine paced around nervously, Junkyard stayed calm, sitting on a rock. He was not easily excitable. He addressed Kangaroo, "Your situation is a product of your actions."

"Whatever that means. When are you going to untie me?"

Junkyard explained, "it means we didn't tie you up. From your point of view, you got yourself tied up by causing us to not trust you. Maybe we'll untie you tomorrow."

"You're not going to untie me until tomorrow?" Kangaroo whined.

Junkyard explained further, "what I meant was, we'll start thinking about untying you tomorrow."

"Can't you make a decision by yourself instead of doing whatever someone else tells you?" she goaded.

Porcupine put her in her place, "You mean lie and betray the group for selfish reasons?”

Kangaroo, frustrated, had no response. Wolverine continued to pace around nervously. “I can’t believe I was such a sucker.”

Frustrated, Kangaroo said whatever popped into her mind next, which was, “If I get killed by zombies, I’m blaming you.”

Wolverine looked at her, but left it alone. She had Bushbaby on her mind. She kept changing her mind on whether or not she liked him. Once he was potentially in danger, she knew she couldn’t just let him die. “Now people are in danger, while I’m waiting around here doing nothing.”

“We are not doing less than the others, we are just doing different things,” Junkyard said in his thoughtful voice. He was probably right, but not very helpful, which was usually the case with him.

Wolverine tried convincing herself that there was no way lowly zombies could kill him. It did not work. Gradually, the anxiety built until she could take it no longer. “You got this, I'm going.”

“Going? You? You didn't even want to go in the first place,” said a puzzled Junkyard.

Wolverine admitted to herself that this was true, but what she really wanted was for nobody to go. “Yeah, but now that he, I mean, they went, I have to go to save them.”

Junkyard tried to stop her. “I hope you aren’t thinking with the wrong part of your brain.”

He was right again, but as Wolverine was not thinking with the right part of her brain, she left anyway.