YEAR 3 A.P. – WINTER

The warm glow and the cracking sound of the fire consuming some branches and magazines is very comfortable and luring, even more when this warm flame plus the roof over my head had become luxuries by now.

I stare at the fire for a while, getting a little drowsy as it burns inside a metal barrel, howling wind carrying the snow around on the outside in this cold night, unable to reach me for once.

Before I accidentally fell asleep I start to search my backpack, mentally noting what I have and what I don’t, holding in a yawn.

That’s when a sound makes me look up and out of my hideout, as, alert, I wait until the source of the footsteps comes closer, making me smile warming at it.

“Kira, come here.”

Wiggling her tail she almost seems to smile at me as she approaches, rubbing her side on my hand. “You haven’t found anything?” I ask as she lowers her ears, pressing her head on the palm of my gloved hand.

“Is alright, we have food for today.” I say, hesitantly stroking behind her ear, earning a satisfied expression on her fluffy face.

“Must be good, uhm… have all this fur on you…”

She only wiggles her tail once more before laying down beside me. Kira was a beauty, with her white and reddish-brown fur, her happy face, and her twisted tail over her back. She was an akita, the Japanese breed of fluffy smug dogs that always did well on the internet.

Yeah, that type.

I go back to rummaging inside my backpack, taking a couple of cans out and a spoon, as well as mine cleaning tools.

That. That is definitely the worst part of the apocalypse right there, not the zombies, not the destruction, but the lack of hygiene, of a good warm bath, of toothpaste or even soap, ugh, that drives me crazy! In the end my backpack was always so heavy because of the number of things I needed to bring to keep myself clean that food became a secondary priority on my list.

Which was never a good thing, especially with a dog as company.

I tried to make her carry a backpack as well before, but it ended in a mess, and it got me worried too that some human would try to catch her if they saw her with loot.

So she just carries a little over her neck, the smaller and lighter parts like toothpaste and chirurgical gloves. I sigh once I’m finally done with my backpack, taking the cans and the opener out and opening them, while I put a little pot over the fireplace to boil water.

I take the fresher can, already disgusted by this type of food to begin with, but without much of a choice, as I give Kira the older ones; and before anyone can complain about be giving the expired or almost expired food for my dog just let me tell you that is only for 2 to 3 days max of being expired, and because of that, in the end, my girl ends up eating more than I!

So yeah, we have something good going on between us, though she had to learn to eat pickles from the jar.

I leave her food in front of her as I take my leather gloves off, then the chirurgical ones that were underneath, quickly cleaning my hands up with alcohol, then discarding the chirurgical gloves and putting a new pair.

Thankfully the alcohol was still due, but soon enough even that will expired and I didn’t like to even think of it; that is the moment that I will panic, not when the New World War started, not when the nuclear bombs were used, not even when the zombies came, but when the soap expired.

I know, I’m that… unique.

I clean the spoon the best I can, pouring some of the boiling water in it, and eat my distasteful canned meal. If I found eating disgusting before, now…I mean, you are putting strange things inside you, things like potatoes that are grown in the earth, or veggies that were coated in poop.

And I won’t even start talking about the meats.

But, overall, tonight is a good night, with a full belly, warm fire, and protection against the weather; which always meant that tomorrow would not be as good, as the lack of food in my backpack confirmed.

With a sigh I take my glasses off to clean, going to dust off a place to sleep next. The small fire was inside a barrel with holes so I could close the lid, making it as discreet as possible.

I had added the protection of the metal shelves too; long emptied; from this convenient store to cover my image from the outside as the place is filled with big windows. It was the best I can have in this remote place, with fewer zombies, plus the glass gives me a view from any intruders… though it lacks protection.

I unroll my sheets on the ground with the marked part up, sitting on it and taking my boots off, separating the socks and changing clothes, putting the ones before on the hot water together with a piece of soap.

Not the best of situations but… the best one could get in the apocalypse I supposed.

Kira, knowing best than to lick me or anything, simply rubs her side on mine and sits down on my back to warm me up, her weight welcome and comforting.

That makes me remember 2 years ago, when I first found her; and things were so different. Never thought I would warm up to her so quickly, and enough to touch her even, using gloves of course, worst of it is that I’m terrible with dogs and animals in general.

It had being very troublesome at the beginning, but I manage to make so she doesn’t bark at anything at all; a very important skill for a dog to have in the zombie apocalypse.

But…

I remember as if it was yesterday, when I was part of a small camping of survivors, enough people to have a little farm going and security 24/7. There wasn’t much I could do, so I usually stayed on guard duty; which was fine by me, less contact with people and their germs, less time having to explain myself.

Less annoying, overall.

That’s why I was the first one to notice some paw prints here and there, but beyond keeping my guard up I didn’t think any of it.

Until I saw the body, and three of the four pups dead.

Must have being hard for her… pregnant, alone in this dangerous place. I don’t know how she came to the state that she was, nor how she died, but I clearly saw the pup among her insides, barely alive and one second from dead, having the zombie neutralized before it managed to eat her too.

I wanted to save her; I needed to save her. But one look at those organs, on all that blood, and I knew I couldn’t do it; I had to hold myself from throwing up even.

But one can imagine how I felt once my “colleagues” turned around to leave. I remember fighting for her, fighting as I never did in my life, raising my voice until they threaten to shut me up.

What they said next changed my life forever:

“Look, here is the deal Enzo, we cannot afford a dog here, we barely have enough to get by, and it will make noise too. So, if you want that… thing, then you have to choose; turn around with us, or leave with it.”

I think, now, that that was an excuse to get rid of me, the odd one of the group, but since then I did not trust nor was accepted in any camping anymore because of Kira.

But, frankly, I couldn’t care less, it was one of the best choices I made in my life, and made me realize how good dogs were; how Kira was a ray of sunshine, an angel that this world was not worthy to have.

But it had been one of the most difficult things I made in my entire life, how I had to take her out from there, clean her, stay so close to her mother’s body and the zombie too.

Ugh.

I took almost all day to make it. But I did, somehow I did, a little blessing that the smell of her and her mother’s blood did not attract any zombies, that some strange courage came over me to save her.

So, yeah, I think she was… the only one in my list of exceptions. But no licking.

I was already putting on my other pair of clothes as I let the other’s in the water with soap, having another bowl with a part of that boiled water to wash myself quickly with a towel, as fast as I could not to get a cold in this weather. I had fewer and fewer chances nowadays to wash, and that drives me crazy enough to think of using the freezing water to wash at least my hands.

If someone asked me one day what hell would look like to me, it would be definitely this situation. And why not only the radiation? I could deal with that somehow, but adding some undead corpses walking around with all their germs, skin falling, eyeballs pending, rotten teeth...

Eek, it gives me the shills.

I lay down finally, covering myself and satisfied for being warm for once, my mind already restless, working in what to do next as my eyelids finally felt to heavy and I fall asleep, locked in place as not to roll outside my sheets.

I guess by now is a little obvious how special I’m, and my opinion over the world; that everything is filthy, dirty, full of germs and not worthy of the trouble.

I have Mysophobia.

And I am stuck, mostly alone, in the zombie apocalypse.

Oh joy.

~~~~

Author note:

Mysophobia is the fear of germs or being sick.

Author: Ohhh boyyy, a doggy is in here, you know what that means right???

Reader: *grabbing pitchforks and torches*

Author: Means that will be a-a lot of… fluffiness? Ha-hahaha *laughs nervously*

Hehe, welcome to another story! For those who are curious this passes before the vampire (10 years in)- werewolf (3 years in)

BTW there will be furry action, but not bestially kay?

And can be read as a stand-alone (~,^)b