Cloaked in Savagery - Chapter Three

His face looked friendly enough, though that in no way hinted at the truth. In days past it was always the friendly, doe eyed, and dimple cheeked neighbor with the bodies in the basement. Thankfully, I doubted this place had a basement.

His forehead crinkled, "I'm really sorry I scared you like that, honestly, I should have used my flashlight when I was coming up the stairs. With the smell coming down the steps, I just figured you were a plain old corpse."

Did the room really smell that bad? I sniffed the air, but only got the radiating odor of my own sweat. My body was still on edge, fists tightened and ready to swing into motion if Alano made a wrong move.

Seeming to realize my anxious pose, he took a few more steps back, "If you want me to leave, just tell me."

My heart sank, as much as the lesson to distrust rattled through my brain, I didn't want to send him off just yet. He might be a decent person, a rare luxury, but still - there was a chance - maybe he was friendly.

I waved my hands in front of me, trying to break the tension, "No don't leave, its just, my social skills aren't what they used to be," I said, being honest, it had been months since I'd seen a male survivor who wasn't out-right hostile.

"I understand, take your time," he glanced around the room, "There isn't exactly anywhere to sit is there?"

He would be an easier threat to deal with if I could get to my machete, "Here, you can sit on the dresser." I moved away from him and sat on my ankles on the bed; making sure to be facing him, my machete was just off the side of the sheets and I knew I could grab it quickly if I needed.

Alano gave me a dimpled yet still too wide smile as he sat on the dresser, his knees spread wide and back pressed to the wall.

My eyes scanned over Alano, he looked strong, definitely stronger than me when it came to upper body strength. He'd run out of breath pretty easily though earlier, so I possibly had the advantage of endurance over him. If I could dodge him my speed would make up for any blow he could land, as strong as he might be, I wouldn't go down with the first hit.

"What brings you to New Hampshire?" I asked, curiosity fueling me through my paranoid thoughts.

"Family used to live up here, figured if nothing else the cold winters would keep the infected inside, but that never happened. So I just kinda stuck around," he met my gaze while he spoke, "Yourself?"

       "Trying to find somewhere safe to whole up, maybe find a decent community of survivors, at least that was my goal earlier today. My plans have kind of changed," I said, my voice trailing off.

"Why?" He replied, his tone quick.

I shrugged, though the motion made my shoulder ache, as well as the rest of my body, "This morning I had a friend, someone that made me want to find somewhere safe. But now - now it's just me - so it doesn't much matter."

Alano's eyes widened a bit, his gaze still locked on mine "What happened to your friend?"

My bottom lip sent out a nerve clenched reminder of, ow, as I realized I was absently chewing on it. I wasn't sure If I wanted to talk about Karen, or wanted to share the full details of her abandoning me. Though. I knew if I didn't go into detail I'd be the one seeming untrustworthy. The apocalypse made for one long therapy session - not much was off limits - if you could bare to open your mouth about it, the words just kind of flowed.

"She drove off, just got too stressed out and left me." I felt my stomach churn as I talked about her, "She'd been there for me when the outbreak first hit America. She drove through hordes for me, protected me, stayed by my side as I sobbed for this world. Then when the tides shifted, and I was the one looking out for her, she just...."

Alano's expression softened, it was a relief to see a human connection in emotion, validation that I was right to feel hurt.

"Was she your girlfriend?"

I chuckled, though my back stiffened at my surprise to the noise.

I made myself meet his eyes, "Well, two chicks shacked up during the viral apocalypse are bound to get pretty - close - though intimacy wasn't either of our strong suites. We cared for each other, though it seems now, in very different ways."

He nodded, "Some people just give up after a while. You would think that after surviving this long they'd put up more of a fight to stay with the people they love, but everyday is exhausting. I guess it might hurt them, even more, to see how exhausted the ones they love are getting."

I rubbed at the dark circles under my eyes, exhausting was right, but what other choices were there? To join the hordes, or be the forgotten corpse above a gas station... to just drive off and leave your friend- fuck that - I wouldn't have just left. If I ever saw Karen again I wasn't sure I could forgive her for leaving me, we were supposed to be partners, facing this world together - hand in hand - no matter how weak that grip became.

Friendship meant everything in this world, especially friendships from before the world fell apart, holding onto those ties as supplies ran low. Lone-wolfing it would be easy, leave my conscience in the gutter and kill anyone with supplies worth taking; keep my own belly full and my heart empty of any reason to care about the screams. Though I wondered if at that point, would I be any better than the infected.

"Do you have a group?" I asked.

Alano shook his head, "Haven't had one for a few months, we got separated during a horde and never found each other. Haven't found any new people worth sticking around with since."

Weighing his words, I wondered if it would be wise to stay with Alano, at least for the time being. There was no way to really tell how good of a companion he would be, until we faced some sort of danger.

"How many infected have you killed?" I wanted to figure out what type of survivor he was, or how fast he could churn out lies.

He arched an eyebrow, "Maybe fifty, why-"

I cut him off, "How many were hollows?"

"Hollows? What do you mean?"

"You know, the really slow ones. Type three of the infected, usually covered in bites. Their brains cooked by the virus, leaving them with only the need to feed, but none of the strength to usually do it," I said, going into as much detail as I knew.

"Oh, crawlers you mean. Fifteen, they're easier to just avoid than waste time killing-"

"How many people have you killed?" I asked, clenching the bed sheet behind me; my fingers were just inches away from my machete.

He narrowed his eyes at me, but answered, "Four, they weren't unprovoked killings. I'm not a psycho."

I nodded, content with his answers. It was good to have someone that realized that sometimes it was better to just plain out avoid the infected. It also didn't hurt to know he wasn't afraid to kill normal people, if a situation ever came to it.

"How many infected have you killed?" he asked.

"Seventy, twelve of which were hollows."

The flashlight still reflecting of the whites of his eyes showed his eyes narrow, "How many people have you killed?"

"Six. The world is better off without them."

I wondered how many un-infected lives I would take by the time I finally died, and how many I would truly regret; so far I regretted none, this world was eat or be eaten, and I'd decided it would be a stupid idea to try and take a chunk out of me.  Alano's face didn't reveal if he was worried about my responses. He just nodded, his body still sitting relaxed on the dresser, back straight with the wall.

"I hope I passed your test," he said, his deep voice turning a little teasing.

I shrugged, "You did, for now. The true test is the outside world."

"So, does that mean I get to stay up here, or are you kicking me out?"

"You're welcome to stay." Moving to the end of the bed, I pulled on my jacket, then made sure to pick up my machete. Though it pained me, I said, "You can have the bed."

His face brightened up immediately as he hopped down from the dresser."You want to share? Eh, I mean, I promise I won't try anything perverted," he said as he laid down on the bed.

I shook my head and picked up his flashlight off the dresser, "No. It's all yours, I'm pretty well rested already," I lied, I wanted to sleep in the bed, but I knew my paranoid thoughts would keep me up the rest of the night if I dared settle so close.

Sitting on the floor, I slouched against the wall and clicked off the flashlight. The room returned to being pitch black. After a few minutes of silence, I could hear the change in Alano's breathing and I figured he was asleep. Despite my anxiety at him being in the room,  my eyes shut and I drifted off to sleep again; machete splayed across my lap and grip remaining tight on the handle.

Sleep was an odd escape, where dreams felt closer to reality. I'd dream about being late to work or having an overdue bill, being out with the gals, everything so foreignly normal. Waking up with a sun warmed face, on a stained rug, with my hair musky; now that felt like a nightmare, but - surprise surprise - it was reality.

"Huh," I whined, my back was aching and it took me a few seconds for me to realize I'd fallen asleep sitting up.

I glanced around the room, but it was empty except for the furniture, there was no sign of Alano, or my backpack.

"Son of a bitch," I muttered, then seeing my machete still in my grip, I gave my fingers a flex before rushing down the stairs.

Just as I stepped out of the stairway, I bumped into Alano, our bodies collided, causing me to fall back on the concrete.

"Gah, what the hell!" I shouted, while looking up at him, eyes narrowed.

He looked down at me, eyebrows knit together and mouth quirked, "I was just about to go wake you up," he said, outstretching his hand to me.

Avoiding his hand, I helped myself to my feet, "Where's my pack?"

His expression turned into a scowl as his lips thinned, "I wasn't stealing from you, I was just packing the car I managed to start." He took a step back from me and pointed at a small car at the end of the parking lot. "Look if you're not going to trust me..."

My brain felt jumbled, between the tease of a good night's sleep, karen leaving, and running into the brick house that I now realized was Alano's body, I stumbled for the right words to say.

"It's not like that...."

"It's okay. I would have thought the same thing too, I guess. We just need to understand that we're on each other's side, right?"

"You're right," I said, still on edge, but wanting to believe things could go right.

"So are we a group now?" he asked, smiling at me.

I mirrored his smile, "Yeah, a small one, but a group nonetheless." Part of me wanted so bad for there to be some semblance of normalcy, to have a friend, someone who seemed honest, who wouldn't stab me in the back. I hoped Alana could be that friend. Answering Karen's question didn't mean I had to sulk the apocalypse alone, "I lend you my skills and loyalty in battle and in the face of all great dangers that lay before us," I said in my best English knight accent, figuring making an idiot of myself might lighten the mood.

"And I lend ye my hammer!" He raised his fist to the sky then paused, "Wait, I forgot, I'm not Thor. I lend ye whatever weapon is in my hand while we survive. My loyalty is yours!"

I chuckled at his attempt at a joke, his attitude was uplifting and despite the earlier drama, I felt glad to be teaming up with him.

Alano's smile broadened as he nodded in the direction of the car, "You ready to hit the road?"

"Yeah, I'm ready."

He twirled a set of keys around his index finger, "Any place you have in mind to head to?"

"Not a clue. So far I've just been following these back roads."

"Well then I guess we'll just have to see where the road takes us today."

I followed him as he turned and walked to the slightly rusted yellow car. The late morning air was crisp and invigorating. In the distant woods I could hear an orchestra of bird calls. Pulling the passenger door open, I gave my back a good stretch before I sat and buckled myself in. I noticed my backpack on the floor in front of me, and I set my machete down next to it. Alano sat in the driver's seat, as he turned the key the car's engine roared to life. Glancing over at him, I noticed that he had shaved his face and trimmed his curly hair to end just above his ears; he looked younger without the scruffy beard he'd had earlier.

"Where'd you find razors?" I asked, as I shifted around in my seat to try and get comfy.

He stroked his fingers along his smooth chin and jaw, "In the store, there was a box on one of the back shelves. If you need one you're welcome to them."

"Thanks. I'm good though, kind of enjoying the more o-natural hair growth," I said, chuckling.

"Hah, at least the leg hair will keep you warm! Plus, in a few years razors will be a distant memory. And I'll have to learn to shave with a knife or something if I don't want a beard."

He backed the car out of the lot and we started to head down the road. I sighed as I pressed the back of my head against my seat.

"How many years will it be until we forget about luxuries, all the stupid, simple, things we crammed into our daily lives. Sometimes my mind plays the ringtone to my old cell phone and I think someone is calling me." As I spoke I moved my hand over my pocket, instead of the outline of a phone I felt the sticks of jerky.

"Our brains are still adjusting, I still expect refrigerators to be cold when I open them," Alano said, his eyes focused on the road.My stomach let out a soft growl so I pulled two pieces of jerky from my pocket. At least we had the luxury of calories, surviving on ten scoops of chunky peanut butter and a can of tuna a day hadn't exactly left my body feeling like a five star hotel.

"Want one?"

Alano darted his eyes off the road to glance at the food, "Sure!"

I opened my wrapper first and chewed the jerky, actually enjoying the flavor as I opened one for him.

Talking as I chewed, I said, "I tried to quit eating meat once. I'd seen this really horrible video on how the animals were treated and processed, it made me feel so sick. So for a week I ate nothing but salad and fish, but every day I saw jerky at my local store. They'd always been my favorite guilty pleasure food. And after a while they're finally what did me in," I said, savoring the taste of the flavor in my mouth.

"Of all the meats to cave in to, I would have caved the minute I saw a steak. Some stuff is just too delicious to give up. Though I think the cows got their revenge, now instead of us eating them, we eat each other."

I placed the end of the jerky in Alano's mouth and he gripped it with his teeth and lips.

"Thanks, Violet," he said, his words sloppy.

"It's sort of ironic considering the Komodo plague was intended to stop world hunger, but who knows what they made that gene therapy virus out of," I pondered.

"I heard it was made from some sort of lizard genes originally. That's why their wounds close when you cut them, kind of like when a salamander loses its tail and they don't bleed out. I guess we're just lucky their limbs don't grow back," Alano said as he chewed his food.

"Hmm lizards. Wonder if this is all the work of the lizard people then," I said, my voice dripping with jest. 

I decided not to point out that salamanders were amphibians, not reptiles and thus not in the same species as lizards. Though, I figured it was called the Komodo plague for its inclusion of reptile DNA, how could the scientists have ever thought they'd be able to transfer a Komodo Dragons metabolic rate, what had they been thinking.

Alano laughed, "Don't get me started on lizard people conspiracies."

"Hey, I'm always up for new stories. No matter how weird they are."

He took a moment to reply, chewing as he thought, "I met a survivor about a month back, who swore on his life that he'd seen an infected with scales and a forked tongue."

"So the infected 

the lizard people?" I chuckled at the idea.

"Apparently! Well, he was kinda... wack-job-ish. Swore at me that I was a bruja when I walked up on his cabin, nearly shot my head off, though he was slightly friendlier than you after that."

My lips quirked, "Oh? So he picked the snuggle up with Alano option?"

Alano gave a throaty chuckle, "Thankfully he had more than one bed, old men in the woods aren't exactly my type."

"But whack-jobs are?"

His lips spread into a dimpled smile, "Crazy ladies are the best, if I do declare."

Rolling my eyes at him, I turned my gaze back to the road. On the right side of the highway the sign read, Now Entering Jackson New Hampshire. At first glance the town looked pretty normal, like a christmas village in a snow globe, picturesque, untouched. But as I pressed my nose to the closed car window and Alano slowed the car, the town center came into focus, I could see the signs of destruction. Police tape closed off some streets, flapping over the broken glass of storefronts, and bright yellow posters spreading the news for the local quarantine zone clung in yellow piles around the curbs and unbroken glass.

Alano slowed the car, "What do you think a town like this's population was? A thousand or two?"

I pulled my face away from the glass, "They would have been fine if they'd just stayed here," I said, my mood dipping with the thought. 

Alano nodded, directing the car onto the nearest road leading out of town. It was eerie how beyond the main square, everything looked normal, if not ransacked by looters.

"The fliers said to meet at a place called, Story Land, seems they planned to en-mass all the people there for their protection," Alano noted.

I stayed silent, drawing my knees up onto the car seat so I could rest my chin on them. Part of me had hoped small towns like this had made it through the quarantine rule, though it was now clear the government had done its homework when it came to rounding everyone up. 

"We'll be passing it in a few minutes..." his tone was cold, though the bitterness of it wasn't aimed at me, I felt a similar chill run through me.

It wasn't long before we reached the amusement park, on our left were the jam packed parking lots, rusted out vehicles crammed in, at first finely organized and then rushed into any available space. On our right the towering metal fences outlined the park, the metallic wall clashed with the brightly decorated fairy tale town that could be seen to extend back towards the woods. I could only make out a fraction of the park, tiny flags still blew in the wind, roller coasters could be seen jutting out into the sky by the back of the extensive park. Upfront the ticket booth sat empty, gates locked. The giant sign for Story Land had a large slab of wood proclaiming Quarantine Zone nailed over it, Humpty Dumpty's smiling face was still peeking out from behind the fading sign.

Alano pulled the car to a stop outside the gates, "I don't see anyone."

"They're probably all dead," my eyes turned to the buildings beyond the gate reluctantly, my mind played imagined images of all the bodies that must be laying in heaps within the structures, "Honk the horn."

"Are you crazy?" Alano's eyes widened at me.

I rolled down my window an inch, the stench from outside immediately began to wind its way in, I rolled back up the window.

"Smells like death," my mind became crowded with the endless newsreels from the beginning months of the outbreak, "They didn't even know how it was transmitted, yet they herded us together like animals for the slaughter."

"They thought they were keeping everyone safe. So much craziness was going on. The first day of spring and everyone just starts going berserk," Alano gave me a blank stare, reciting this info like he'd said it a hundred times, "But you're right, everything probably would of been fine if they just let us get sick in our homes, instead of shoved together."

A breeze blew through the trees outside, the flags writhed as a honking melody filled the air. My head whipped over to see Alano thumbing a beat on the horn; his eyes scanning the space around us and beyond the fence, I locked the doors and waited. The noise faded away with the wind and again things returned to an eerie silence. Eventually there was motion beyond the gates, from within the castle mimicked structures came people, running to the gate. My lips thinned as I frowned, in the same moment I heard Alano let out a sigh. Thin bodies collided with the fence, gaunt wrists reaching through the gate and grabbing at the air, their clothes waving around them as it looked like they'd be lifted into the sky with the wind. They looked like scarecrows, lank and bony, hollow eyes and hungry mouths. The space between the fence and ticket booth was quickly filling, the bodies that had first arrived to the fence were now being pressed by the mass of infected behind them.

Alano took a deep inhale, "Well, that answers that."

He revved the engine, speeding us away from the swaying fence. Turning around in my seat, I watched the fence through the rear window, there were hundreds of them locked inside; probably thousands spread throughout the entire park. They might have been fine if they'd had the choice to stay in their own towns, half the places up here were low population and farming oriented. So many communities, families, citizens, all that kept them from their humanity was that fence; meant to keep them safe, when really it condemned them to a bite filled death or rebirth.

Rummaging through my backpack, I pulled out a brush and settled into the snugness of my seat, combing through my rat's nest of hair. My mind rattled through the memories of the first days, martial law, panic, looting and violence. We were all trapped, blocked by fences, borders locked down to keep the contaminated in. Everyone scrambling like rats as the news broke, city streets pumping full of infected like the virus that spread through them. The government swore they could contain it, if we just cooperated, just stand within the fence and it'll all blow over.

My brush snagged on a knot, "How'd you avoid the quarantine?" I asked, struggling with my hair.

Alano took a road leading left, "I got swept up in one at first. I was returning from a business trip, plane landed just as the news was breaking about Komodo reaching America. Security and police were just getting their orders to keep everyone locked in. A few days passed, the place was absolutely packed, the people outnumbering the guards. We all wanted to be with our families, to fend for ourselves, so we rioted and got outside. That was in LaGuardia," Alano slowed the car and took a breath, his face changing into a blank expression, "It was havoc. New York was congested with blood and death, that was before it even became overwhelmed with the infected. I'd made the pre-midlife crisis purchase of a boat, and to my surprise it hadn't been stolen. So me and a few friends lived out in the harbor for a while, watching from the water as the city was turned to rubble."

My mind struggled to imagine what the city must have looked like, that many people, skyscrapers crowded with the afraid and hungry - until the bombs came to release them - the fences didn't discriminate.

"It had this glow to it.. The pinnacle of humanity, the city that never sleeps - burning - the sky was more alive with flame than ash."

I didn't want to imagine that, how many people were still human when the city crumpled. While the government realized its error, I'd been safe, protected by Karen and her knack for driving through barricades. My hair was back to its silky self, letting Alano have a moment of silence I set myself to tying it in a bun, pushing out the thoughts of the bombs. Though this comfort worked for me, I was unsure how to comfort Alano, his face was still blank but his eyes looked tired now. We were passing into Maine, the highway sign read, The Way Life Should Be. We were out of, Live Free Or Die, and back to my home state, I'd missed it here. I pulled my sleeves over my hands, fidgeting with my fingers for a few seconds before moving my hand to lay on Alano's shoulder, his posture stiffened. Even through the thickness of his sweater I could feel how tense he was, I gave him a few barely comforting pats, it was all I could manage before I returned my hands to my lap. He seemed more awake now, though his face betrays the red outlines forming under his eyes.