I’ve passed the point of exhaustion several times over. My breath is metallic. I can’t feel my limbs. And yet I keep running. I just want to lay down on the road and look up at the sky and give up. But I keep running.
My shaky feet stumble over an abandoned backpack and I barely save myself from diving headfirst into the pavement. Was the road going up? I spared a second to look behind me and saw that the number of zombies chasing me had increased from five to seven.
This was a situation entirely brought on by myself. I had gone into a city-the city-where it had started, because I had nowhere else to go. What was happening was merely the effect of my own actions. So why was I trying to escape it?
The street is blocked by a huge military vehicle, bullet holes riddling the camo tarp over the back. Other cars, long abandoned, have crashed into it, further cementing it in its permanency. I run to the edge and look over the small wall separating me and the city below. I hadn’t realized how high I've gone. My glasses immediately slip off my sweaty face and crash into the asphalt of the streets below.
I’ve really done it now.
I slide down the short wall, gasping in air. There isn’t any point in trying to get out of this one. I know my limits. But I pull my hunting knife out of my pocket, a gift from a dead girl I can’t remember the name of. Was it Sarah? Something starting in an S? Had I ever even asked?
A few flies land on me, jumping the gun on my soon to be availability.
The zombie near the head of the herd is almost here. I can only see blurs, but the smell under the heat of the sun is warning enough. Then, suddenly, the blur closest to me falls to the ground. I squint, trying to see what it is that’s attacking the group of zombies. It’s four-legged but way to big too be a dog. And no dog would attack a zombie, they were terrified of them. The figure comes closer as it snaps the neck of a zombie with its jaws and I see it’s a wolf.
Cities are known to being reclaimed by wildlife, but this is a step too far.
Chunky zombie blood drips from the wolf’s black muzzle and it turns its icy blue eyes on me. A shiver travels up my spine. This wolf is looking at me. But it doesn’t feel like it’s looking at me the same way zombies do.
“Nils!” a woman shouts from down the road. The remaining zombies pause in their lurching to look around. If I was one prone to imagining, I’d say their expressions were very confused. One makes up its mind and lunges towards the wolf with a guttural scream and it immediately counters, shoving into its legs and then going for its neck once it falls.
Suddenly another wolf is here, and it’s even bigger. I may not be an expert in the field, but I can recognize these are not normal wolves. At this point I’m convinced this is some sort of fever dream as the zombies consume my intestines. This thought does not reassure me.
The two wolves obliterate the group of zombies in a trained manner. They go for limbs first, then destroy the neck or base of the skull with their teeth. In less than two minutes all of them are methodically taken care of. The flies ditch me to join the swarms already snacking on the zombies, who had probably been eating them since they turned.
“Oh, good, you got there in time!” A person shaped figure appears at the end of the road. “Are you okay?” I’m actually alive. “Hello? Are you okay? Are you dizzy?” This person is talking to me, who is alive.
“Careful, I think they’re dangerous,” are my first words, holding out a hand at the wolves. Automatic, slightly polite. The default I resort to after nearly dying.
“No, it’s alright.” The person brushes past the huge wolves and becomes semi-visible to me. She looks like the type of white college girl that would’ve been in a sorority, before everything. “Did you hit your head?"
“No. I. My glasses are gone.” I stand up quickly and defensively. Two years of apocalypse life has given me the impression that nice people are usually incompetent or trying to use you. My little sister would call me jaded for saying this, but she’s not around.
“Oh. Are these them?” Possibly even more bizarre then the zombie-attack-wolves is the sight of four pairs of glasses in her hands.
“No...?”
“Aw. Well, do you want any? I always make a habit of picking them up. You never know when someone will need them.” I stare. “Here, you can have them! Figure out which one is closest to your prescription.” She awkwardly hands them to me while I handle the shock of the banality of glasses prescriptions.
“Are. Are those your...dogs?” I squint to see the black one is gone and only the larger and thus scarier one remains.
“They’re not dogs, they’re wolves,” the nice girl happily tells me. The big wolf walks up to us and I visibly tense. “Nice work, Savannah!” Savannah’s head reaches past her waist, though she is on the shorter size. She also comes up past my waist, and I am not. She sniffs me and I can’t help but step back. “Oh no, are you allergic?”
“No.”
“All clear?” Another blur enters my periphery, accompanied by a herd of dogs. None of them are huge and otherworldly like the two wolves, only flea bitten and tough, like all the other pet dogs that had survived for this long.
“All good!” The girl says. “Nils?”
“Almost done. I’ve never seen him run out so fas-ouch. Hey, dude.”
“Gosh, I haven’t even gotten a chance to introduce myself," the girl says. "Sorry! I’m Nicole." She, honest to god, holds her hand out to shake. I stare at it and my brain makes a conscious decision to perform an action.
“Elias,” I say, and learn a new trick.
“So, what brings you to Richmond, Elias?”
I look at Nicole over the light of our little campfire. I was testing out my third pair of glasses, and so far these were the winner because I didn’t have a migraine. We had just spent a few hours getting out of the city with the guidance of Savannah. Savannah is the huge, terrifying wolf with the power to crush my skull without straining a muscle. A gaggle of dogs following her seem to be admirers of some sort. As do the human members of the group. Those are Nicole, and her boyfriend Jacob, a black man with a military haircut, and their daughter. When I first saw her all bundled up in Jacob’s arms I thought she was a puppy. It’s been so long since I saw an alive baby.
The fifth member of this strange group is a grumpy kid perhaps a little younger than me. After grunting his name (Nils) he made it his sole purpose to ignore me. He only carries a light drawstring bag, the type of you carry gym clothes in.
I don’t understand how Nils fit into the puzzle. Nicole and Jacob are clearly two well-meaning people protecting their child by whatever means-even if those means were training real, actual wolves. Nils doesn’t look biologically related to either of them and isn’t particularly helpful to the group. His attitude is blasé at best and irresponsible at worst. I can’t fathom why this couple deemed with an enormous task-and life saving asset-were toting around this grumpy, unhelpful teenager.
I was, of course, projecting.
“Elias?” I realize I’ve been staring for too long and have to participate in the conversation. Basic social niceties demand the least for my saviors. Nils is looking into the fire. If he had any idea of my staring he doesn’t show it.
“I was trying to head back to where I started,” I say, and Nicole nods like this is a normal sentence.
“Ground zero, huh? Are you a local?”
“No.”
“Do you mind?” Nicole asks, holding her daughter and gesturing to her shirt.
“No.” I don’t understand until she starts breastfeeding and I avert my eyes like a gentleman. “I was waiting for my next flight.” Everyone makes noises of remembrance. Flights. Air travel. “I was headed to Canada.”
“Do you have family there?” Jacob asks like it matters.
“Wait, you were at the airport?” Nils interrupts.
“Yes.”
“Like, the day of?”
“Yes.”
“Were you at the Starbucks?” This is unusual.
“Yes,” I answer automatically.
“No way!” Nicole says.
“God damn,” Jacob says.
“How did you know?” Nicole asks Nils, who is grinning smugly.
“He’s just like the guy she talked about. Monotone Spock sounding ass.” This is not the first time in my life I have been compared to the fictional Mr. Spock.
“Sorry,” Nicole says to me. “I can’t believe this! You were totally with m-our cousin at the airport! The Starbucks barista. She told us all about you.” Images flash in my head-screaming crowds, us pushing tables and chairs against the gate. Her smeared red lipstick. Her immediate acceptance and action that only afterwards I considered the rarity of. Somehow we had been the exact two people right for each other at that moment. Somehow we survived.
“This is like, fate, or something,” Jacob remarks to Savannah. “So you were trying to get back into the airport? Did you forget your luggage?” He chuckles at his half joke.
“Don’t, Jake. He was trying to die.” Nicole looks at me. “You were trying to die, right?”
“...Yes. How could you tell?”
Her answer echoes in my head and never leaves me for the rest of my life.
“You act like you’ve been bit,” she says. “I thought you were, at first, but you’re not. It’s like you’ve given up.”
The only person that had ever seen me for myself was my little sister, Poppy. Whenever she did, whether after a spontaneous hug or shouting at me until her voice had gone hoarse, it shook me. It’s like living on a deserted island and having a boat land on shore while you’re asleep. It’s unnerving, shaming, and startling. And now this complete stranger has seen me. I think my mouth might be open.
“I’m taking first shift,” Nils says, and walks out of our dilapidated shelter and into the woods. No one seems bothered by this in the slightest.
“Grace is ready for bed,” Nicole says, and her baby yawns in agreement. “Wolves first watch?”
“Yup,” Jacob says. “Elias, are you up for a shift of watch? You can partner up with someone.” It’s been a few months since I was part of a group, but I remember the rules.
“Yes.”
“We can do it together,” Jacob offers kindly, or perhaps cautiously. “I’m usually last watch, right at sunrise. I’ll wake you up.”
I sleep uneasily and unusually. Normally I’m unconscious by the time my head hits the pillow until I’m shaken awake, but now every noise has me tenseing. The dogs sleep in a warm, fluffy piles around the small family, avoiding me with caution. I’m glad for it. When I do manage to close my eyes I have dreams that are vague and anxious. When Jacob wakes me it’s a relief.
“Good morning,” he whispers to me. “Ready for watch?”
“Yes,” I try not to groan. I shake my sweaty-and-yet-cold limbs and grab the ever faithful knife. We tip-toe around the dog pile and I notice Nils sleeping in a corner facing the door. Where Savannah stands, because she is apparently the guard we’re relieving of duty.
“Quiet out there?” Jacob actually asks. Savannah doesn’t say anything because she’s an animal. “Alright, catch some Zs.” She sniffs at him and gives me a stern look before padding back to the dreamers and plopping down unceremoniously.
“Did one of you work at a wildlife preserve or something?” I ask Jacob as we take positions outside the door. We can see the road leading directly into the city beyond, the rotting skyscrapers looming over everything.
“Uh, no, not really.” I don’t ask any further, seeing as he doesn’t want to talk about it. This has the opposite effect and he starts up again. “Listen, dude, can we get real for a second?”
“Yes.”
“You seem like a nice guy.” I’ve been called a lot of things. Heartless, boring, cold, chill (when someone has just met me and is trying to be casual) but nice? Nice is a first.
“Thank you?”
“So I’m only saying this because I feel like you’re going to stick around and end up joining our main group when we find them.” He keeps talking before his words sink in. “But I wanna warn you before you find out: we’re pretty...abnormal?” I stare. Jacob stares back. Neither of us knew what he was talking about.
“Are you cannibals? Because I ran into cannibals some months ago and I’m not eager to repeat the experience.”
“No, no, no,” Jacob said quickly, then he laughed. “So you can make jokes! That's a relief.” Unfortunately, this was not a joke, but the thought that these people hadn’t run into cannibals brought me peace. “Nah, we have all the food we need. You had that rabbit Sav killed, you get that.” I nod. “But just, like, I’m warning you. Warning sounds threatening-I’m giving you a heads up. Shits about to get weird.”
“Alright,” I say. I don’t wonder what this means or whether I should leave. I don’t think at all.
We guard the camp until sunrise. All we see is a few stray cats and hear a lone zombie, too far away to be of any concern. Then Jacob says everyone’s awake and it’s time for breakfast. We walk back into the room and I see an unknown person hunched over the fire.
I draw my knife instinctively and Nicole looks up from conversing with the stranger. It’s a nude woman with hair that’s just a wild tangle of knots and a smell that’s extreme. Even for the poor standards of the apocalypse. I can’t comprehend how she entered the camp after watching the only entrance myself.
“It’s okay, Elias,” Jacob says, giving me room.
“I’ve got it, Jacob,” Nicole says. “Don’t worry, Elias! You’ve already met.” The woman looks up from the map she’s examining. Her face is gaunt but tough and her eyes lock onto me with a chilling familiarity. She has tattoos all over her long white limbs, artsy punk ones Poppy would have appreciated. She has freckles like Nicole.
“Couldn’t you have put something on?” Jacob sighs.
“This won’t take that long,” the woman says in a weirdly normal voice. She inhales an entire bottle of water in one draught. “Nils, wake up.” Jacob and Nicole are staring at me, waiting for my reaction.
“I...I don’t understand,” I say. Jacob sighs.
“Okay, Savannah, you’re up.”
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