Walking Bodies

by Durman, Jason

  I was about to ignore him and curl up against the window, when I remembered I still needed to roll up the window. One infected had already climbed through it, so leaving it open was clearly not a good idea. The only thing that caused hesitation was the fact that a Leaper was blocking the handle.

  Thinking for a moment, I snapped to make sure I had his attention. "Think you can do me a favor and roll up the window for me?" I pointed at the handle. He stared at my outstretched hand, no comprehending. Let me try this again. "Handle. You turn it and the window closes." I spoke slowly, frustration lacing my sentence. The infected just sniffed, tilting his head.

  Fine, don't get all fussy when I get close to you then. I leaned forward quickly, reaching for the handle. Aaron hissed with his back to the door. I huffed at his annoyance and began to roll up the glass when I felt sharp claws dig into my shoulder.

  I winced, and my action stopped. I wasn't face to face with him, but I could tell he was upset. Mostly because of the warning growls he was producing. The sound made my heart sink a little. I wasn't that close to him anyway, but I should have expected him to react like this. He didn't like to be touched.

  The window was shut but I was still in his grip. It was just like back at the bakery, all I have to do is pull away and he'll get over it. Since I was the one who had patched him up, you would have thought that he would have gotten past this peeve of his already. But I was wrong, and the claws were starting to actually hurt a little.

  I made move to back up, but as I started to pull away, his hands fully grasped my shoulders, keeping me in place. I gulped. Aaron has been acting aggressive lately, I mean, more aggressive than usual. Is there a chance that I could be in real danger here?

  My face met fabric and I coughed in response. He had pulled me down, not so gently into the front of his hoodie. It smelled like blood, and I could feel the holes in his clothing where the Siren had punctured through against my skin.

  I cursed, and the infected didn't respond directly. Instead he shifted himself into a more comfortable position and I was forced to slide with him. I tried to lift myself upwards using my arms, but he kept my locked in place. I groaned into his hoodie, and I swear I even heard the bastard try and stifle a laugh.

  "Mind letting me go?" He chuckled. I take that as a no. "I don't have the time or energy to play around Aaron, I'm serious." I urged, but his hold didn't loosen. "Aaron, please, I'm tired." The Leaper pretended to snore, or at least I hope that he was pretending. I tensed.

  "Aaron!" I half whispered, half shouted. I was disregarded completely. I huffed. I didn't like this, but strangely enough, it was warmer. Sure the AC heat was welcoming, but this felt like I was laying on a thin mattress, or a thick blanket. Damn, I wanted his hoodie. I should get one on my own.

  I twisted as best as I could so I wouldn't suffocate. He was slouching more than he was lying down, putting me in an awkward position. Both of my arms were to the side of him, and for the last time, I tried to push myself off. But of course, I didn't go anywhere.

  "The hell has gotten into you, man?" I groaned, giving up and letting my face drop. He made an uninterested noise, messing with my pony tail. Tug by tug, it was slowly starting to come out, but I was too drowsy to care.

  Chapter 16

  I noticed three things when I woke up: It was hot as hell, the air was getting stuffy and thick, and I was no longer on top of an irritated, unpredictable Leaper. Instead, I was underneath him, which was incredibly worse. So I immediately reacted.

  I squirmed and was eventually able to shove him off into the floor bored. Aaron jolted awake and a snarl caught in his throat. He didn't appreciate the rude awaking, but the heat and lack of air was suffocating enough and his weight on me was helping.

  Turning down the AC, and rolling down the window I welcomed the fresh cold air into the truck. I don't know how long I've been asleep, and I can't remember what setting I left the heat on, but I made note to remind myself that it was bad idea in the first place, no matter how warm it might have been.

  Speaking of comfort; the usual drowsiness that came after sleep didn't come into effect. Instead, I felt wide awake, alert and the soreness from yesterday had completely disappeared, like it had all dissolved away during the night.

  I threw off my sweater and it suddenly became ten degrees cooler. It landed on Aaron, whom voiced his disapproval of becoming a laundry basket. I glared at him as I sat upwards. I hope he slept as well as I did, because he wasn't sleeping anywhere near me anymore.

  "I'm not a pillow, you know that?" I spoke to no one. He showed his teeth, tossing the sweater off of his head and into the passenger's seat. I snatched it back, content with how the truck had become much cooler in the last five minutes. Aaron hauled himself up while I pulled it over my head.

  I would never admit it, but I had a feeling that I wouldn't have been able to catch some decent shut eye last night if Aaron wasn't my mattress. The leather seat was better than a dumpster or tree, but it was nothing compared to the softness of his hoodie. As for the smell, I've grown to tolerate worse.

  "Next time you're sleeping on the hood." I threatened, but was ignored as he occupied himself with the radio sSirenes and buttons. I rolled my eyes and patted around my clothes until I found the map. Unfolding it, I went over the planned path over and over again in my head. I couldn't afford to waste any more time. For all I know, they could have done anything to Doug and Olive by now.

  Biting my lip, I cursed inside my head. Here I was, napping away in a dark corner of a parking lot in a stolen truck while the owner and his wife are held hostage by some group of survivors that shoot first-ask questions later. Oh, and they enslaved people too.

  Well, they may have been infected people, but they were still people noneless. I glance at Aaron, flicking the radio to different stations.

  Yeah, it took a bear trap, a gun, some canned fish, and a ton of awkward moments but we're getting along just fine. Well, good enough to where we can trust each other enough that I won't pull a weapon on him, and he won't skin me in my sleep.

  I know this may not be the case with all infected, but if their intelligent enough to learn, they could be retaught. They were rabid, had no sense of self preservation, and their only goal was to kill every immune survivor they came across. But that didn't mean they were incurable.

  A sudden bang interrupted my thoughts and I turned to see Aaron violently banging on the dashboard. The thrashing startled me, and I swatted his hands away quickly before he broke anything. "Seriously, what the hell has gotten into you?" I muttered. He huffed, ignoring my question and giving a small hiss in my direction. But I wasn't paying attention.

  In the midst of his bashing, lyrics poured from the speakers and my ears caught on pretty quickly. I stopped my action, frozen, listening to the barely audible lyrics. Aaron sat still, though the continuing noise continued to bother him and he fidgeted in his place restlessly.

  It was a male singing the song, I concluded. The lyrics were cut short every other word or so or either drowned out from the static, but it seemed familiar. It was a soft, soothing melody and I would have gratefully enjoyed this pleasant surprise if I didn't have the suspicion of where it was coming from.

  I haven't heard music since the outbreak began. There was no electricity in the city, and even if there was, what human in their sane mind waste it on powering a radio station? Who's going to listen to it? The infected? I highly doubt that crazed murderous people were interested by classic jazz.

  It played on low volume, and I had no intention of shutting it off. It was a nice change, though I was never really interested in that genre of music, it was extremely calming. To me, at least. To Aaron however, it seemed as if it was blowing holes in his head.

  Aaron eyed me, waiting for the chance to silence the noise. He voiced his annoyance. What started out as a soft growl was starting to overlap the music. I sighed, flicking off the music. He stopped abruptly and the sudden quietness in the tr
uck was nerving.

  "You happy now?" He only sniffed. "God, you're such a kid." I muttered. I backed out of the parking lot, not bothering to put on a seat belt. Aaron shuffled beside me as he felt the move.

  Halfway down the road, I started humming. The tune refused to leave my mind, and since Aaron was going to be an asshole I couldn't have the radio on. But that didn't mean I couldn't hum.

  I expected him to immediately show some sign of disapproval, but instead, he kept quiet. So I kept my rhythm, until I lost my place in my head, and my humming turned into a bunch of strange throaty noises. I coughed awkwardly. Good thing Aaron isn't able to judge; otherwise I just made a fool of myself.

  Aaron stifled a snicker, and I resisted the urge to reach over to slap him. I forgot he was a smartass.

  A realization hit me: it was going to be a very long, boring, uneventful ride. If I didn't find something to entertain myself, I might as well fall asleep on the wheel. Leaning back, I glanced at him in the rear view mirror. "Aaron."

  I didn't need to call his name since his attention was already focused on me. "So…you feel hungry?" I instantly regretted asking him that question. If I get him thinking about food, he'll either bug me about it or get it himself, most of the food I scavenged from the hotel was already diminishing dispite the short amount of time I've had it. I'll need to start rationalizing it.

  Luckily for me, he didn't care for the mention of food. He grunted, slouching in his seat and watching the rolling pavement as we passed by. "I'll take that as a no…" I trailed off, dully staring ahead.

  What I wouldn't give to have some decent vocal communication between us. So far, our only ways of 'talking' to each other was him growling at me and everything I did, me bribing him with food and often throwing things at each other. I can recall a couple incidents where I've tried to chuck something at him, mostly because of anger, or maybe he was just being an ass that day.

  In my defense, he did try and kill me when we had first met. My first impression of him was claws and teeth, and let me tell you: That's not exactly a warm introduction in my book.

  The silence continued. I never liked silence. "So…any ideas how we're gonna bust in there and rescue the damsels?" I asked, though it was obvious I wasn't going to receive a valid answer. Still, it would be nice if he would have at least acknowledge me when I was speaking to him. But he didn't budge.

  "…so I was thinking" I rambled on. "I'm pretty sure there's going to be more survivors in Paradise" When the name ran over my teeth, I thought briefly of Tanya and enslaved infected. I shook the thoughts from my mind. "It might be nice to meet more humans." I murmured. "I mean, Doug and Olive weren't so bad, were they?"

  Aaron's lips thinned, and his head thumped against the seat. I gave a small smile. "Admit it." I teased. "You like them. They did feed us, you know." He shoved his claws into his front hoodie pockets, and I was given a bored grunt as a response.

  "I liked them." I continued. "They helped us, Aaron. You don't see kindness like that anymore. Hell, you hardly ever saw it before the outbreak." His head tSirened at the mention of his name. I frowned, and made the truck swivel around a crater in the middle of the street. Looked like something a pipe bomb would do. Wish I had one of those.

  "Most people would've shot me, or either tried to avoid me. It's common sense to not trust anyone anymore." Yeah, common sense that I should start following. Who known how many times my oh-so-big-heart had gotten me into trouble.

  "When you think about it, he could have ran me over if he liked." Aaron shuffled a bit at this sentence. I guess he was just getting agitated for being cooped up for so long. "Doug wanted to help me. He's a good guy, right?" Talking to me was starting to become one of my favorite pass times. "The cool thing is: He didn't try to kill you at first sight." I grinned, remembering the dent Aaron had put on this ole girl. Though, it was hard to see among all the other dents that accompanied it. My fault, sorry. "He thought you were my boyfriend or something." I laughed. "Weird, huh?" Aaron snuffed, grunting as we passed city limits. This trip was taking shorter than expected.

  "Even if I had a boyfriend, I'd still shoot him if he was infected."

  The Leaper snarled, slouching halfway down the seat. Taking a glance, I rolled my eyes. Normally, I would have nagged for him to put a seat belt on or try to put it on him myself. But I wasn't wearing one and forcing him to would make me a hypocrite, and he seemed pretty close to splitting my neck open the last time I got close to him, so I decided against it.

  "You're gonna hurt your back like that." I muttered. He brushed off my harassing. Whatever, fine. "Olive was pretty cool too." No answer. "She's a really good cook, isn't she? Wish I could cook like that." I swirled around a pile of bodies, the sudden motion making everything in the truck slightly shift to the right. "But we'll have to settle for canned crap for now."

  The city was long gone behind us, and I pulled over to the side of the road. I whipped out the map again, and judging by how long we were driving, it wouldn't be too long before we arrived. The only problem was how were we going to enter?

  No need to worry, Sara. Whoever they are, I'm sure they'll just smile as you drive up in the company of a starved, irritated Leaper and the blood of their comrades on your clothes and let you just waltz in and do as you please. No, Sara, quit it.

  To add to it, there is no telling what I'll find there. I know Theron and Tanya made it clear that slavery of infected were a definite, but what about enslaving uninfected? Didn't Doug say something about that the first time I had met him?And what about that tattoo on everyone's hand? CLEAN? I suppose it meant whoever was wearing it wasn't a carrier, So I doubt they'll let anyone go anywhere that isn't wearing it.

  What was Aaron going to do when we got there?

  I stole a glance at the special infected. Even from a distance, you could tell he was a Leaper, so a disguise would be unlikely. The other option was to leave him in the truck, but my inner conscious told me that wasn't any better than the last idea. Leaving him unattended in a hostile area could result in a lot bloodshed. It could get him killed, but most likely other people. He isn't one to stand idle while threatened.

  But what about me? If everyone else in Paradise is similar to Tanya or Theron, than I could use the back up. I could try to be discreet, I thought. Aaron wouldn't have any trouble with that option, now that I think of it. He's a Leaper; specifically modified to make move quickly, keep out of sight, and keep silent. It's only when they're about to attack do Leapers make any sound. Aaron being the exception, of course.

  I wish I had paid more attention to the road. I broke out of my musings with just enough time to slam the truck in a screeching halt. We were both lurched forward. My head slammed into the wheel and I loudly cursed. Thankfully, it wasn't bleeding, but a pounding throb encircled my head and I moaned in pain.

  If Aaron hadn't of been slouching, he would have been catapulted through the windshield. But instead, he was smashed into the dash. He let out a feral roar and I flinched, both from my pulsing pain in my head and the ear piercing sound.

  This was the result of not wearing a seatbelt. Imagine if I had hit an incoming car.

  "Aaron…" I murmured, slightly alarmed that the ringing in my ears overlapped my voice. "Fuck…" I clutched the sides of my skull, leaning down and facing my lap. The pain was fading, but at an excruciatingly slow rate.

  Said Leaper was finished screeching and was nursing his own forehead, his claws underneath his hood. A good five minutes passed by before I was able to open my eyes and look up, but it felt like an hour. The hurt was more of a dull ache now. I looked to Aaron, who seemed to have recovered much faster than me. "You're never getting in this truck again, are you?"

  To answer my question, he was flimsily attempting to pull the door handle. I sighed, and turned to what made me stop. A sign.

  Or really, a Stevebored. It seemed like it had been painted over with white paint. If I had continued day dreaming, I would have m
issed this and kept on driving.

  I could tell it was originally a car insurance ad, plastered on was a woman with a smile too fake with words hastily written over her face. PARADISE, it said, in large white letters. Beside it, a large arrow pointing to the left. I followed to where it was pointing, and groaned when I saw the tree line.

  "Looks like we're walking from here" I grumbled. I wasn't going to need the truck anymore, so the only option I had was to shut it off. Reaching down, I tore the wires apart and immediately heard the engine cease. The AC shut off and the sudden lack of heat caused goose bumps to appear on my skin. I shuddered.

  Aaron became even more eager when he heard the engine shut off, fumbling even harder with the handle quite impatient. I was debating on leaning over and letting him out first when suddenly the door flung open and he bolted out, leaving me alone.

  I followed after him, slamming the door behind me. Walking around the truck, I mentally face palmed when I saw him sprawled out across the ground ten feet away. "C'mon, it wasn't that bad." I scolded. "Don't be so dramatic."

  Walking over, I gave a soft nudge to the side. I heard a muffled growl from the concrete. "We need to get going." I turned around and pulled the backpack out of the car, strapping it on and shutting the door, both guns in my hands. "Aaron…" I urged.

  The Leaper yapped at me, slowly rising to his feet. More and more he was walking on his two front legs than crawling on all fours, I've noticed. It was progress. An improvement since he could recognize his name.

  It didn't last long. He took three or four steps before hunching down and walking like an animal. I blinked and he was prowling again. Still, he was learning.

  With Aaron behind me, we entered the forest. The truck was left on the side of the road. As much as I'd hate to leave it, it wasn't like anyone was going to steal it or anything. Besides, the woods were too compressed for me to drive through without running into something, and I don't think Aaron would have handled being in there much longer.