That familiar pity feeling began to creep up inside of me again, and I mentally groaned. It slithered away as I took out a can of salami, holding it in the air. "Hungry?" No answer, but I urged on. "Promise not to creep me out anymore and I'll feed ya. Deal?" It was a dumb request, so what?
He stared at the can in my hands, not caring about what I said, that I was trying to communicate with him, and solely focusing on the potential food. It was like trying to talk to a dog, an untrained, disobedient, cannibal dog. Sighing, I placed the can on the ground and lifted my crowbar up high.
It made a cracking noise as I hit it open. A little bit of the food leaked out onto the ground, but the rest of it was mostly still inside the can. I pried the rest of the lid off, fully exposing the contents. He stayed focused on my offering, unsure whether it was a trap or not. Who knows? He may think I'm still angry about the whole ripping up my jacket thing. And I am, by the way.
Since he wouldn't take it for a few seconds, I swiped it back up from the ground and waved it taunting manner, toying with him. He obviously didn't like my playfulness, letting out an irritated growl before he leaped forward a few feet to snatch the can.
I pulled it out of his way just in time, letting out a little laugh as he fumbled. Without eye contact I could tell he was glaring. "Deal or no deal?" It felt good to say something, even if I was speaking to something that couldn't talk back.
Suddenly, he emitted not an irritated, but playful sound towards me, leaping towards the can again. He would of caught it too, if I had not pulled it to my chest, he missed by mere inches.
Chuckling, I crouched and faced him, eye to eye. Or really, more like eye to hood, but it still had the same effect. Bringing the can to view between us, I held it out in a peaceful, professional manner. "Deal?"
Instead of an answer, instead, he stole the salami from me.I let him rip it from my hand and watched as he pretty much drank its contents. Briefly, I wondered if he could consume other things too, not just fish, or meat basically. There was one way to find out. I held out the can of green beans I was eating from before, and shook it slightly. "Try it, you might like it"
He paused his eating for a minute, looking up at my offering, then huffed and turned back to his raw meat. Sighing, I rolled my eyes and stood up. So they only ate things that were once alive, great. Maybe I was thinking into much into this. Readjusting my straps, I started walking again.
He brought the can with him, and I could hear him slurping the juice and tearing at the meal. Maybe the effects of raw food didn't bother him, like it did for normal people. I know that if I ate raw meat again, I would be sick. That last time I was just that desperate.
A couple minutes later, I heard a clanking noise and spun around to see the can thrown aside, and a satisfied Leaper behind me. I smiled at the fish hanging from his chin. "You got something on you face" He just tilted his head and I mentally slapped myself.
I pointed to my own chin, around the same spot his food was hanging from. "Here" I said, tapping my face lightly. Once again, he looked baffled. Crouching down to his height, I pointed to my chin again, trying to make my point clear. "You have food, here". I tapped again. The Leaper just eyed me suspiciously, and I realized that my words held a sort of double-meaning.
But of course I didn't worry; he wouldn't have understood it anyway. I moved my finger to point to his own face. "There" I flicked it off, and he flinched ever so slightly. Giggling, I flicked my nail again. Not sure why I found this so amusing, but it was kind of cute even.
While I toyed him, he seemed to get the idea of what I was doing. He brought his own claw up to my dirty face and I flinched in response. Now we were just poking each other's faces, not really something to do when a bunch of hungry, violent infected could pop out of anywhere. Not productive at all.
Pulling my hand back, I waited for him to do the same. Instead, his claw pressed harder into my skin and I was starting to think he was trying to draw blood. It hurt and I decided that I was done. I placed my hand over his wrist, carefully, and slowly tried to pull it away from my cheek. He was hesitating, but eventually he dropped his hand.
Enough with the awkward moment, we still had a journey to make. In the distance I thought I could hear a humming sound, but I ignored it, probably nothing important anyway. Standing again, I started moving away from our current spot, peeking around the corner for any infected.
The Leaper behind me just followed, he wasn't making anymore noises. In fact, for the rest of the walk, he was quite quiet. The only time where he made any more sounds is when we were attacked by a single wanderer.
I lifted my crowbar high, ready to swing at the incoming infected. It had popped out of a dumpster as we were passing by. It smelled of Spitter bile and the thought of a Spitter around here only made me want to move faster. It ran at me, arms outstretched.
Before it came close enough to where I could bat at it, the Leaper jumped in front of me, and I took a stepped back by his sudden movement. Growling, he swung his right hand onto the chest of the infected and his claws buried themselves into her shirt. He made a tugging movement, and the infected made an surprised outcry.
His hand was snagged on something, so he pulled even harder. A loud, gruesome cracking sound was heard and he wretched his hand out of her person. In his grasp was what I guess is a rib.
The infected woman made a gurgling sound as she fell to the ground. I wrinkled my nose at the show of death. He was either very violent before the infection, or just 'creative'. Or he could just be showing off, trying to prove to me his strength. Whatever.
He turned to me, rib still in hand, waiting for a reaction. I nodded my thanks, smiling, muttering something under my breath. He paid no attention to my response, instead, his attention was suddenly directed down the road, where that humming from before was growing immensely louder.
My first thought was shake the ground when they come near,however, this humming wasn't the thundering sounds of one's footsteps. Instead, it sounded more like a motor, like a power generator or a car, a good distance away but getting closer.
The insane part of my mind thought that maybe my friends were coming back for me, and were looking for me. This made me want to get closer, to find whatever was making the humming noise.
Too caught up in my delusions, I started walking in the direction of the humming instead of my original route. The Leaper gave a confused rumble, before following my lead. He dropped the rib near its owner.
It was getting even louder, and I was getting more and more excited. Now I could tell it was a vehicle at this point, and infected can't drive cars. Subconsciously, I walked a little faster, barely noting how uneasy the Leaper behind me was getting. My ankle was starting to get sore, and I spared a thought on how the Leaper my feel, but It erased itself as a truck came into view.
It wasn't my friends, and my heart dropped. It was a muddy, moss green truck with tinted windows and worn tires, not the rescue I was hoping for.
My first thought was to turn around and bolt. I didn't know who was in that truck, and I didn't want to take the chance that they weren't friendly. I spun in my spot to head in the other direction, but stopped short when I realized that the Leaper wasn't behind me.
As he in the air, watching from the buildings somewhere? Then he was having the same idea as me, not really wanting to meet the driver in the approaching truck.
But I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings, and it got close enough to spot me while I looked up at the rooftops. I swallowed, wishing I had bolted when I could.
The window started rolling down and I expected the barrel of a gun to appear on the other side. So I raised my bar to my chest in case I was about to get looted. My cookie monster backpack and it's full capacity load wasn't exactly hidden.
Instead, I saw a dark, wrinkled, amused face smoking a cigarette as the ashes fell into his beard. And no, it wasn't Steve. "Whacha starin' at tha clouds for, Bub?"
Surprised at
his amused, friendly tone, I opened my mouth but nothing came out. He smiled, creating even more wrinkled tones to his features. "You lost?"
"You're not gonna kill me?" I asked, dumbfounded. He laughed a good hearty laugh. "Heh, you a funny one." He flicked his cigarette out the end of his window. "What's a kid like you doing all alone?"
I was about to defend myself by saying that I wasn't alone. But I didn't have my friends anymore, and the Leaper…just didn't count, besides, he ditched me anyway. So instead, I just shrugged.
The man just sat and thought for a moment, staring at me as the engine ran. I was about to say something about him wasting gas, but then I spotted the tons of gallons in the back, and I kept my mouth shut, especially when I spotted the shotgun in the passenger seat.
"Don't worry, Bub, I ain't gonna shoot ya." He announced, noticing where my eyesight had landed. I nodded, only half believing it. Not everybody can remain humane when the world has gone to hell.
His cigarette was finished and he threw it to the ground. "Where you going?" He asked, I just shrugged again. "Out of the city." He nodded at my answer, before shoving the shotgun from the passenger seat to the middle. I clutched my crowbar closer to my chest.
"Need a ride, Bub?"
It sounded more like he was telling me more than asking, but I figured I could trust him. Something, and not just appearance, but something about his reminds me of Steve. Nodding hesitantly, I walked around the back to the passenger side. His smiled, and reached over to open the door for me.
"Sorry for tha mess, but it's hard to keep tha ol' girl clean when I gotta ram her into a horde, ya know?" I smiled, thinking of that happening in an epic action movie. What I would give to watch another blockbuster now a days.
I shut the car door, and sat back, letting my feet rest after a long walk. They ached and my ankle was hurting, but not as much as I thought it would, meaning it was definitely getting better. "What gotcha pretty face, huh?" The old man asked, as he moved the truck forward slowly once more.
I patted my cheek. I had pretty much forgotten the scratches on my face, but from the way I could barely feel them, they wouldn't be on my skin much longer. "Infected, and don't worry, I'm immune" I said, making it clear that he had no reason to kill me, except for the bag of food I was lunging around.
Speaking of which, I shrugged the bag off of my shoulder and put it in the floorboards. Leaning back onto the beat up car seat, my back was starting to feel the effects of carrying such a heavy weight around for a long time.
"What's your name, Bub?"
With my eyes closed, I spoke. "Sara, you?" The man laughed, keeping his old crow eyes on the road. "The name's Doug, Bub, and I hope ya don't mind me callin' ya that." I didn't know what 'Bub' was or meant, but I was sure that it was nothing offensive. Kinda like a nickname.
"I don't mind." I glared out the window, to the moving streets. The car smelt of smoke and dried blood. It was getting cold, and I wrapped my arms around myself in response. Being in just a Heavy top didn't help either.
"Reach in the back, there might be something that can fit ya." The bearded man, Doug, said, weaving our way around the streets littered with abandoned cars. I nodded, and reached behind the seat. My hands met soft fabric and I pulled out the first thing I could grab and held it out in front of me.
It was an oversized, dark red, long sleeved T-shirt, and I threw it over me without delay. Doug glanced at me as I snuggled into my newfound mobile blanket. He chuckled. The sleeves were long enough to go past my hands, but I was working on rolling them up far enough to handle my weapon properly.
"That one was mine, and I don't think the fat man look suits you" He coughed to me, smiling, earning a chuckle in return. "Thank you, and I guess you need something in return?" I said, kicking the bag for emphasis. I was about to offer a can of food. He was giving me a ride, as well as a comfy mobile blanket, so I was choosing to trust him. Something like trust was hard to find, I just wish I could keep mine with him.
"Nah, keep ya nasty can food, I got me some real stuff in the back, you see." He pointed his thumb towards the trucks cargo. "What I got is better than ya nasty city-folk food, Bub, so don't ya worry, I ain't gonna steal none of horse turd"
Once again, I smiled, something I found myself doing a lot of that day. Leaning back, I relaxed "Suit yourself" Doug grinned, pulling out another cigarette. I had the feeling that I didn't need to worry about him.
I sighed, gripping the crowbar in my lap. Maybe I can ask if he has any ammunition? Later, I though, now was not the time, I was getting tired anyway. Staring out the window, I rolled the sleeves of my sweater up to where I could readjust my ponytail. A shower would be great right about now, but all I had was the perfume from the hotel, and I wasn't going to use that just yet.
There as an ear shattering screech, and the truck made a sudden stop. I cursed out loud, having hit my ankle up against my own bag and almost apologized, but stopped when I realized that Doug was spitting out curses like a sailor.
Something hard and heavy landed on the hood of the car, and there was a permanent dent underneath him as he sat on the hood of the truck. He growled at Doug, but made no aggressive moves towards him. Shocked, I stared at him through the windshield. The infected gave a short glance to me, but kept most of his attention to the driver.
I turned to Doug, excepting him to whip out his shotgun and try and shoot the Leaper. But instead, he was calmly smoking, flicking the ashes out of the window. On his face was a hardly detectable, but amused grin. He laughed a raspy, but clearly entertained laugh.
"I don't think ya boyfriend here wants me to steal ya away, Bub."
Chapter 10
I leaned back, scoffing and rolling my eyes. "Yeah, funny." It was hard for me to get a boyfriend before, with my average looks and my not very lady like behavior, and I was never good with talking with boys. An apocalypse was not going to change that. Doug smoked calmly, opposite of the crouching predator in front of us. Said predator was still glaring at us through the windshield, quite angrily at that.
I was now more annoyed than I was surprised. Opening the passenger door, I leaned out and waved my crowbar to threaten him. "Get off…now" I lowered my voice to sound like my mother had used to whenever I had gotten into trouble, but instead I sounded more like a bad imitation of batman than a scolding mother.
Putting on a face I usually only saw when Steve was scolding Aiden, I tried to do my intimidating voice again, but it resulted in failure, and the embarrassment of hearing my own voice crack. Right now, I looked like an idiot.
Dispite that, he hesitated for a long moment, then crawled off the hood and crouching at my side. Batman voice was effective, I guess. Or it could have been the crowbar that I was waving around like a maniac.
Sighing, I looked back inside the truck. "Uh…" Doug took a breath of his cigarette, awaiting my request. "Could he somehow…come with us? I mean, only if that's okay with you and…" I stopped talking, since his expression wasn't changing from that same amused grin.
Doug blew out his smoke. "Who is this boy to you?" He asked. In truth, I didn't have an answer for that. What was he to me? Some infected I had saved and it decided to follow me around for it? Lost puppy? Creepy killer that liked to play with his food? Before I know what he is to me, what am I to him?
"He's my friend" That answer was as good as any, since nothing else suitable could come to mind. Doug nodded understandingly in response, looking my 'friend' over. I nervously awaited his decision, and a little part of me almost wanted to stay with the Leaper if he didn't let him travel with us.
He tossed the last of his cigarette out the window. "Tell that boy he betta get in here before I leave both of ya"
I was grateful for not having to come up for a bunch of reasons why he needed to come with us. Smiling, I leaned back inside and scooted to the middle closer to my new older friend, and signaled for my companion to follow. Unsure, he sniffed the leather seats, not trusting
the moving, mechanical, smelly thing that I had crawled into.
Using my hands to make gesture to come towards me, I beckoned him inside. But he continued to sniff the seat and I snuck a glance at the driver, whom was still waiting.
At this rate, it would take forever for him to hop in. I thought about using a can of food to lure him into the truck, but we have already eaten what we needed to today. We needed to make that last as long as it could. Reaching over, I took hold of the shoulder sleeves and hoisted him up as quickly as I could manage into the passenger side.
Caught by surprise, he lashed out, almost taking my ear off, but I had already pulled him in. I could tell he was going to make a move for the door, so I leaned over his person and slammed it shut, not bothering to lock it due to his inability to use any kind of knob or lever.
"C'mon Bub, you can love on ya boyfriend later, we gotta hit the road." With Doug's statement, he turned the key in the ignition and the truck jerked into drive. I realized my position over the Leaper, and just how his awkward it was for me, and how it lacked a real reaction from the Leaper. Sitting up straight, I mumbled underneath my breath. "He's not my boyfriend. He's an infected-"
"An infected that's gotta a fancy for ya, huh Bub?"
I huffed, placing my hands in my lap. Doug obviously wasn't gonna let me live this down, so I just needed to sit back, relax, and wait to see where the road will take us. The Leaper was still a bit shaky, and irritated, but he sat with his knees curled up to his chest, nipping at his claws, and staring out the window, probably wondering why the world around him was moving so fast.
It probably wasn't a really good idea to trap someone with his capabilities in a small, metal, confined space, but it was too late to shove him out now. Besides, he looked like he was getting used to it. I wondered if I rolled the window down, would he stick his head and tongue out and pant like a dog?
Walking Bodies Page 7
