"I want to explain things to you, but only if you will hear me out. Can you do that?" Hivemind asked softly. His voice scared Rose, not because it was frightening or aggressive, but simply because she had never known a zombie to speak. Yet, here was a Zero, calmly asking her to listen.
"Feel free to simply nod if you are too afraid to speak." Hivemind suggested, with a small flowing gesture. Rose struggled to nod, but was able to after a moment of chin quivering fear.
"Thank you. It has been too long since I have been able to have a real conversation. Until you find your tongue I will simply imagine your responses…May I sit?" Hivemind began, gesturing to a chair in front of an old vanity, its mirror wreathed in light bulbs.
"Much obliged, the knees aren't what they used to be and that was quite a long drop yesterday into the bazaar. Terrible thing, the launch, throwing ourselves through the sky terrifies just about everyone…but it keeps the Hive safe. No one dares to come here after seeing us Launch off the roof." Hivemind continued, taking a seat in the chair. Rose now noticed that unlike other zombies she had seen, Hivemind wore clothes that were more than simple scraps. He may not cover his chest, but he wore old jeans and even more surprisingly a pair of leather boots.
"Ah yes, shoes. One of the few relics of the past I still am allowed to indulge in. I may be a size fifteen now, but boots still fit…plus they sound nice walking down a hallway." Hivemind said, understanding her confused gaze.
"…Wh- What do I call you?" Rose managed, finally speaking.
"I've had many names over the years, and I've heard all that the people have given me. Hivemind, Achilles, Master of Horsemen, Devil, John Porter, Faustus, Benedict, all true in their own rights, but none true enough. You may call me Sigma if you wish, I think it is a fitting title." Sigma explained, rattling off his list of monikers.
"Sigma…why am I here?…Where is here?" Rose asked, in a barely audible whisper.
"The second question has a much simpler answer. You are in a dressing room in the Hive. It is about ten in the morning, August thirteenth. You were passed out for almost a day. As to the why, there are short and long answers. Do you have a preference?" Sigma asked, resting his right foot on his left knee, reclining a bit in his chair.
"I…" Rose couldn't continue, the entire situation was becoming too much for her to handle.
"You're stressed, it's very understandable. I don't want to upset you, despite whatever preconceived notions you may have towards me or my Flock. Why don't you take some time and rest, get your thoughts together. I'll be back soon enough, there is still much to discuss." Sigma suggested, once more responding to her emotions more than her words.
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Spike's face stung as he pulled himself up off the grass, and his cheek scratched from a broken tree limb. The sun was low in the sky, and climbing. He'd been passed out for awhile, longer than he knew to be safe. Spike made a mental note to see Nero and get checked out once he finally made it back to Harvester Headquarters. He had more important things on his mind now; the last thing he remembered was being thrown into a tree by a large zombie. Then it hit him like he had just been thrown back into the oak, a Rider had pulled Rose from him before sending him twenty feet through the air. Spike looked around at what had just yesterday been the Crossroads Bazaar. The stalls were in shambles and bits of man and zombie alike were strewn across the lawns and pavement. What was most startling though, was that Gravers were cleaning up, rebuilding, just like they did in the old days after a hurricane. Craven was watching it all, seated on top a large open crate, full of lumber.
"Ugh…Craven, what's going on here?" Spike called, cradling his left arm and limping slightly over to the Gunsmith.
"Exactly what it looks like, Spike old friend. We are rebuilding, can't let one attack shut down the only commerce and true safe zone Blood Oak has." Craven explained, leaping off the crate.
"Are you kidding? After last night you think we should bring more people back here?" Spike questioned, clearly frustrated.
"No, I'm not kidding. This place was something good, and I won't let it be taken away from the people. I'll say this though, we took it for granted until yesterday. So starting now, I'm putting it under my watch. There's gonna be a constant guard here, armed and ready for the next time, if it comes." Craven explained, staying calm, trying to keep Spike from getting angry.
"Who's gonna guard a market when they could be out salvaging, or getting paid to guard someone?" Spike asked, sitting on the remains of a produce cart.
"I've got guys, I'm arming them myself and paying them out of my pocket. The safety of Blood Oak's people is worth the investment, and besides, I have more money and guns than I know what to do with. I'm actually mad at myself for not doing this sooner. This place is gonna be the start of something new, I guarantee it. New stalls, professionally built will be up by tomorrow, anyone who's got things to sell can just ask for a stand and it's theirs. Guards posted on the nearby roofs will keep watch and an evacuation plan will be laid out and old hat by the time it's ever needed…if it's ever needed." Craven excitedly elaborated, gesturing to the men working to clean and rebuild the Bazaar.
"You keep saying if, like Hivemind won't attack it again. Your plan sounds like a huge lure for him. It's a bunch of people all packed into one small area, it'd be another massacre…" Spike trailed off, the previous day still fresh in his mind.
"Hivemind may be a zombie, but he's not stupid. I don't know how much of the battle you were conscious for, but that Zero does not risk his zombies' lives. Anytime they'd go towards someone holding a gun he'd call'em back and send them away from the market entirely. In fact, the only zombies that we could even shoot yesterday were him and his Horsemen, all the others got pulled out of the fray, or died from close quarters combat and shotgun shells…there's a thinker somewhere in that corpse, and I'd bet everything that a defended market is more risk than reward to him." Craven rationalized, pointing to the zombie corpses, all either in many pieces or splattered beyond recognition. Not one had bullet wounds.
"I hope you're right…were there many losses?" Spike finally managed to ask, the question looming in his mind since he'd seen the destroyed Bazaar.
"Fewer than you'd expect, more than we're okay with. The Millers, Eli Jensen, Chet Goode, Kristen Martinez, and a handful I'd never had the pleasure to meet. Luckily the other forty or fifty got away thanks to people like you. I was pleasantly surprised at how many took up arms and fought for people they'd never met…even more shocked damn near every gun I gave out has been brought back," Craven answered, counting on his fingers. "Rose is unaccounted for though…I don't know what happened to that girl…"
"I do, she was frozen, shocked from it all I think. I tried to lead her away, but…one of the Riders grabbed her, threw me into that tree. Last I saw before blacking out, he was retreating back to the Hive with her," Spike admitted, head hung. "It's ironic, I finally work up the courage to talk to her and that's the day she gets taken into the Hive."
"All we can do is pray then." Craven solemnly said, taking off his old battered brown cap and putting it over his heart.
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"It…It's August thirteenth twenty thirty four, first entry of the day, diary. I've been…captured, I guess is the best word…I'm inside the Hive, in a dressing room…I can see the night skyline through my window…It's been…about an hour since Hive- no, I guess he said to call him Sigma, well, The Zero…It's been about an hour since Sigma talked to me. I don't know why I'm here, but Sigma said he'd explain it all when he got back…Oh God, diary, I must sound like a crazy person, talking to a zombie, believing it, calling it by a name that it gave itself! I…I don't know what to think. The last thing I remember is the Bazaar being attacked and Spike trying to keep me safe…then I woke up to Sigma talking to me. I need to think things over, I'll explain more when I know more, Diary." Rose recorded, having found her bag, with all her things exactly as they were at the foot of th
e bed she still sat on.
All around her, Rose could hear buzzing and humming of movement. The Hive was very much alive in its state of undeath, with its inhabitants methodically traversing its floors. Occasionally, a loud crash or thump would echo just beyond Rose's walls, but never directly against them. She could not ever remember being more apprehensive, or curious. Within the Hive, where no one had ever been and returned from, she still drew breath. The stories people told of the beasts within this bastion of undeath were all around her, but she still remained. Deep in thought, Rose sat bolt up when the light knock on her door came twice in quick succession.
"Uhm, come in?" Rose confusedly spoke, surprised to be granting permission for anything in her current state.
"Thank you, I was hoping to continue our talk if you were up for it," Sigma said, entering the room and resuming his seat in front of the mirror. "Is there anything you would like to know?"
"Why am I here?" Rose asked quickly, having decided shortly after Sigma's departure that this was the most important question to have answered.
"Of course, and as I said before, there are two answers: short and long, two reasons: practical and selfish. One is very simple, practical. If you are here, it keeps my Flock from straying out there," Sigma answered, with a sweeping gesture of his bladed hand. He quickly retracted his arm, realizing how terrifying it could have seemed. "My flock, when confined as they are now, inside a building, seek prey through smell. With you so close, they have no reason to leave and wander the streets where they can be killed, or commit their own sins."
"So I'm just…bait? A carrot on a stick?" Rose questioned, unsure whether she was even upset.
"I hate to put it in such terms, but essentially yes. You could also consider yourself a lock on the shackles of many dangerous individuals. By being here, you keep people safe by keeping the Flock in the Hive." Sigma explained, trying to comfort her.
"But…can't you control them? Just order them to stay in the hive?" Rose asked, Sigma's answers only bringing more questions to mind.
"Yes, but I also feel what they feel. When I first came here, so long ago, that is exactly what I tried. However, I'm only human…or was, I'm sorry, old habits. I don't always refer to myself correctly. Anyway, in my first days, weeks, months, I tried to keep them here. What I really wanted was to starve them out. The people meant more to me than I did to myself, or so I thought. Eventually though, their pain became unbearable, each of them crying out to each other, every scream coming to rest in my ears…that day I let go of my control and allowed the madness think for them…and when they returned home my flock had nearly doubled." Sigma recounted, his head hanging under the grey shroud.
"I've heard stories about that, A harvester calls it 'The Red Awakening.' He tells it every March to remember the dead." Rose added, looking to Sigma for some reaction.
"Spike does the story justice, he remembers it well for someone who was but a child at the time," Sigma said, chuckling slightly at Rose's look of surprise. "There are so few things I do not hear in this city. I know everyone's names, where they sleep, what food they like…the knowledge makes it even harder to bear if they ever join my flock."
"You said that there was a…selfish reason I was here. What is it?" Rose asked, not sure whether or not she wanted the answer.
"I needed someone to talk to, who could understand what I say…the Flock listen to me with rapt attention, but they can't comprehend anything that isn't an order. I needed someone who wasn't afraid after they saw they weren't in danger. That is why Gabriel chose you at the Bazaar. You were clearly afraid, but you didn't panic." Sigma explained, lifting his right foot to rest on his left knee.
"Gabriel? You mean the zombies still remember their names?" Rose inquired, her curiosity actually piqued.
"No, they remember nothing of who they were, or if they do it's buried so deep that not even I can reclaim it for them. No, I simply give them a name when I feel they have learned some form of self control. The one you call Pestilence is Gabriel, Famine is Michael, they…enjoy having names." Sigma responded, pausing to consider his word choice.
"Are they all so biblical? It seems…I don't know, ironic?" Rose questioned, almost forgetting the situation she was in.
"Is it? Isaiah 26:19 begins with 'But your dead will live, LORD; their bodies will rise,' and no not all the names are biblical. To you he is death, to the Flock, heheh he is just Kevin." Sigma laughed, and despite everything, Rose laughed too.
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"Spike, it's been two weeks…I don't like it anymore than you do, but I think we have to assume that she's gone." Craven said, placing his hand on Spike's shoulder.
Since the attack on the Bazaar, Spike hadn't left the area. All around him the Bazaar sprang up with quality construction and excited shoppers. Armed guards patrolled the market and word quickly spread through the city that the Bazaar was back in full force. Gravers came everyday from miles around to trade their wares and catch up on the local news. Every Graveyarder seemed to know something new and fascinating about the world and Spike was eager to tap this new wealth of knowledge. He asked everyone who passed through about Rose, but the answer was always no.
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"Again, my apologies about the food, there are only canned goods in the kitchens here and I don't trust the Flock to bring back anything sanitary." Sigma joked, entering Rose's dressing room with a can of ravioli from the Hive's kitchens. Rose laughed with him and simply turned on her hot plate.
"You know I don't mind, food is food," Rose replied, twirling her fork. "What's today's topic? Loss, triumphs, revelations?"
"I thought perhaps you could pick a topic today, after all, I brought you here for conversation, not lectures." Sigma responded, handing over the can of pasta.
"Well, I've actually been wondering about…you. Who were you before all this?" Rose asked, opening the can with her knife, before putting it on the hot plate.
"I knew I'd be talking about this eventually…well, where to start? I was twenty when the Infection hit, I had just lost my parents days before, so naturally…I was upset. But, I had friends, and we actually were able to do some good before I started to turn. We founded a community to the west of here, one that I felt was safe when I…left, and it still is today." Sigma began, taking his usual seat, this time leaning back against the vanity.
"Oh…did your friends make you leave?" Rose questioned before thinking, and instantly regretting the question. "I'm sorry, that was rude. I…"
"No, it's only natural to wonder these things. My history is…interesting. But no, they didn't make me go…actually…they thought I died. Leaving them was one of the hardest decisions of my life, but I had to. I needed to leave, if I'd stayed I would have endangered my, well it wasn't official, but my wife…and our son. I couldn't do that. It was better they think I died." Sigma continued, his face even now, still hidden in the gray shroud.
"You had a son?" Rose asked, taking the can of ravioli off the hot plate.
"Have actually, he's still alive. His mother…isn't. He's doing well too. He doesn't know about me, and that's for the best. I'd still love to meet him one day…tell him how proud I am of who he's become…everything he's done and all the people he's helped along the way…I think that's enough about me for now, is there anything else?" Sigma asked after regaining his composure.
"Why don't you talk to the Gravers, show them who you are. When they see how human you are…I don't know, I just think it'd end a lot of people's fears." Rose requested, looking at her food.
"It's a nice idea, but…well, you've never seen one of my turns, and I pray you never do. They're right to fear me. I like to think I'm still more man than not, but deep down…I'm just a monster that can feel remorse." Sigma answered, hanging his head.
"No you aren't, you're more than that! I've been here for weeks and you've completely opened my eyes! I never thought of your people as anything more than beasts, but now I know bette
r. You have emotions and thoughts and…you are not a monster!" Rose argued, standing up.
"How could you know" Sigma roared, rising from his own seat. His shroud fell back, revealing his face as the scar on his chest flared open. Both of Rose's hands shot to her mouth before she could react, holding in a scream that couldn't rise. Sigma's chest gaped, his ribs spread out like a bear trap to display his fanged maw of a heart. From his now detached lower jaw a low gravelly groan escaped. As fast as Sigma's outburst, his ribs retracted and chest sealed itself once more. Sigma's jaw clicked back in place as he raised the shroud back over his head.
"H-h-h-h-how…b-b-b-but…" Rose stuttered, her words utterly failing her as she fell back onto the bed.
"I'm sorry, but I couldn’t let you think we were simply poor, misunderstood souls. Know that while I have some control, the others do not…and I disappoint myself frequently, my moments of control are often fleeting, and require much focus. I'm so sorry I had to scare you. Do you want some time to think things over?" Sigma asked, taking his seat again.
"When can I leave? I just want to go home. I won't tell anyone anything you've told me if you don’t want…" Rose pleaded, finding her voice much quieter than she remembered.
"I…don’t think I can let you…" Sigma admitted, shame and sadness thick in his voice as he left the room. The only sound was the lock sliding heavily into place.
Alive and Fighting: Revelations Page 2
