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It was still dark when Billy shook him awake. Despite how gentle his jostling was, Caz still startled.
“We’re leaving,” Billy whispered, flinching back in tandem with him. “Bags are packed, Raffs and Brodie are waiting.”
When Caz pushed himself to his feet, he felt a wet spot on his shoulder. It wasn’t too bad, just a bit annoying, but he wasn’t sure how it’d gotten there. The ceiling hadn’t been leaking, had it?
Oh well; he had bigger concerns.
“There’s a couple scavs up ahead, in that building.” Brodie pointed out the building in question. “It’ll be easiest to go through there, avoid the spotlight altogether.”
They’d been walking for a little while, and Caz’s internal clock was telling him that sunup was just a few hours away. It’d been surprisingly easy to dodge all the patrols; they holed up here, Brodie said, since the infected were more active at night. Thankfully, they hadn’t had any trouble with infected, themselves.
“You’re sure about this?” Billy mumbled, and while the question was addressed to the two others, Caz could feel his eyes burning his back. Brodie just sighed.
“Don’t tell me you’re backing out now! This is our only chance!”
Caz didn’t respond, and Billy didn’t either. Raffs and Brodie shared a look that Caz couldn’t decipher, before they turned back to the mission at hand.
And so they crept into the dilapidated building - an old hotel judging by the interior - the voices of the two guards bickering good-naturedly growing closer. Through the broken and grimy windows, the spotlight swept over the street, more scavengers pacing between the old cars. They made sure to stay low and out of sight. Caz flinched as a flashlight beam shone overhead, but the passing guard just mumbled something to themself and walked off.
The two scavs were standing around a barrel fire, warming their hands as they chatted. Their backs were turned, and liquor bottles littered the floor at their feet; as easy as it gets. They were dead before either of them knew it. Caz noticed Raffs staring at their bodies for a second longer, something haunted on his face, but he didn’t mention it.
The next part was more difficult. The spotlight shone slowly from side to side, occasionally pausing on an approaching infected so that the elevated sniper could have a clear shot. Vehicles covered in rust and overgrowth littered the street, concrete barriers set up near the exit to the QZ. The gate was shut, and Caz could see it was hooked up to a generator. Guards patrolled the area, weaving between cars and barriers and shining flashlights towards any movement. The place was packed, but he could tell that all the scavengers were fatigued and sloppy, dragging their feet and getting distracted chatting and drinking.
Brodie pointed out an opening, and they took it, pausing until the next opportunity to move up. There were close calls and the occasional scav in their way, but they were never spotted and the lone guards went down without much of a fight, their disappearances going unnoticed. All the while, the searchlight continued to roam the area, and shots rang out, followed by the bodies of infected hitting the ground. At least they didn’t have to worry about being absolutely silent.
After an eternity of tense waiting and tenser moving, they reached the sectioned off area where the generator was. The others kept watch while Caz worked his magic - which was basically just pulling a few wires and flipping a switch or two. The instant that the power went down, the scavs went into a panic, and they were quickly found.
But by the time the scavengers registered their presence, they were already slipping through the slowly opening gate and running for the bridge.
There wasn’t any point in looking for hiding spots. Most of the buildings here were either boarded up or missing at least two of their walls. Besides, there was still the risk of infected. Some of the monsters shambled out of alleys and from behind walls, drawn by the sudden commotion. With any luck, they’d slow down any pursuing scavs just enough to let them escape.
Only, their plan after a certain point didn’t account for one thing; the scavengers had a truck.
Headlights illuminated the street, and bullets cracked the asphalt dangerously close to them. The screech of tires and the rumbling of the engine was deafening, and Caz grabbed Billy’s jacket to keep him with the group. They were starting to fall behind, and they were running out of options as the truck broke through makeshift barriers and broken vehicles.
Brodie pointed out an overturned bus, blocking the road up ahead. If they could get over, they might be able to find cover to avoid the scavs.
Brodie pushed Raffs up, and Raffs pulled him up with him. Just as Caz was about to get to the bus, the underside of it was hit with a barrage of bullets. The headlights shone on them, and they ducked to avoid the next spray of ammunition.
Caz knew what Brodie was thinking before he moved. But, before he could get a word out, the man was already pulling Raffs away and out of sight, leaving him and Billy to the scavs.
They crouched behind a concrete blockade, with Caz cursing Brodie and Raffs and himself and the scavengers and everything else he could think of, and Billy looking like he was on the verge of a panic attack. Just as the truck was getting over an old car, Caz felt Billy grab his hand. When he looked, he saw him nod to an alley he hadn’t noticed before; moonlight shone at the other end, so they wouldn’t be trapping themselves, and the gap was too narrow for the truck to fit.
Without a word, Caz tightened his hold on Billy and made a break for it. The scavs’ rained bullets down at their heels, but they were slipping away before they could correct their aim.
The next few minutes were a blur. Caz hacked through any infected they came across, and Billy kept an eye out for anything that could help them get out of the city. Anytime they heard the scavs and their vehicle coming closer, they would find another alleyway and leave the street before they could be spotted. All the while, they made their way in the direction of the bridge. Hopefully, Raffs and Brodie were still there; Caz would love to have a chat with the two.
Finally, Divers Crossing came into view through the destroyed buildings, but the scavengers must’ve figured they’d come there; the truck pulled onto the road just as Caz and Billy came out of hiding.
And then it was back to running for their lives.
Weaving through decayed vehicles and passing through the remnants of buildings, they made a mad dash for the bridge. The scavs, despite the limitations caused by the cluttered street, stayed right on their heels.
Just when Caz thought they were home free, setting foot on the crossing, his hopes were dashed by the sight of the crumbled remains of the center of the bridge. Rebar jutted out of cracked concrete, cars hung off the edge precariously, rusted cables did nothing to help stabilize the structure. There was no way across.
Except… the river below was fast and violent, crashing so hard against rock and debris that Caz could feel the spray on his face, even this high up.
But it would stop the scavengers from looking for them.
Oh well. They were good as dead if they stayed up here. At least the river wouldn’t shoot them.
Squeezing Billy’s hand tightly, he didn’t give the man a chance to ask what he was doing. Taking a running start, he leapt from the broken bridge just as another round of bullets cut through the air above their heads. Billy let out a startled shout, before they plunged below the surface.
—
“Caz?”
He groaned, his ribs aching and his throat raw. His mouth was drier than a desert, and his tongue tasted like brine.
“Caz, c’mon.”
Someone shook his shoulder, and he swatted at them with a shaking hand. His whole body felt fatigued, each movement making him dizzy. Sand fell from his arm as he shifted.
Sand. He was on a shoreline.
Caz opened his eyes with a wince. The sky was pink and yellow, faint bits of blue beginning to color the horizon. They were under a rocky cliff, next to a much calmer section of the river. Caz tried to speak, but he only got as far as to take a deep breath before he fell into a coughing fit. Kneeling at his side, Billy helped him sit up and slapped him on the back a few times. It didn’t help in the slightest, but it was the thought that counts, he supposed.
To be honest, he was surprised either of them made it. Caz wasn’t a great swimmer, and Billy couldn’t swim at all with his screwed up arm. He couldn’t remember much after they jumped, just being tossed around by the water, bumping into stones and debris and driftwood, until…
“Finally awake. At least you’re not dead!”
Until they were pulled out.
Brodie was busy rifling through his bag as he walked up, Raffs yawning behind him, rubbing at his eyes. They must’ve taken a nap.
Once he saw that he was trying to stand, Billy put his hand on Caz’s arm to pull him up. He shook off his hand as soon as he was sure he wouldn’t fall over.
Brodie still hadn’t looked up by the time Caz’s fist connected with his nose.
Shouts rang out on the little beach as Caz went to continue beating the man, but Billy wrapped his arm around his middle to keep him from jumping him. Raffs had his gun in his hands in an instant, eyes darting between Caz and Brodie, trying to figure out what to do. Brodie held his - thankfully not bleeding - nose as he pushed himself back up.
“What the fuck was that?!” Caz practically snarled. He tried pushing Billy away, but he was still weakened after almost dying. “Leaving us!”
“They were right behind us, I wasn’t going to stick around and get all of us killed!” Brodie ditched his calm and composed demeanor, snapping at Caz the second he stopped speaking. “I knew you two would get away, you’re crafty bastards.”
Caz was so angry that he couldn’t even think of a reply, just tossed his arms up and stormed away to where his and Billy’s packs were. Billy gave him a wide berth, and Raffs still hadn’t put his weapon away. Brodie was still rubbing his sore face.
“I really did believe you guys would make it,” Brodie mumbled, his voice nasally. “Just didn’t expect to have to save you two from drowning.”
Caz huffed, staying silent. But he didn’t feel like pummeling the prick anymore, so that was an improvement. They still needed each other to reach that radio tower Brodie kept talking about. They could bitterly part ways afterwards.
Apparently, the two had found a way to reach the tower without being caught by scavengers, who were still roaming the surrounding areas for them. Must be due to their wounded pride. Unfortunately, this discreet route was through an old sewer. It spanned beneath a nearby suburb that, hopefully, they would be able to cross through without much trouble.
They didn’t account for an abandoned survivor colony to be waiting for them down there. Not only that, but the base was abandoned because of Infection; the sewers were crawling with infected, years old and tougher than they should be, given how small their bodies were.
(Caz took a moment to stare down at the dead monster, far too little to have been a grown-up. He didn’t realize that he’d paused until Billy placed a hand on his shoulder. He scowled at him, jerking away; he didn’t need pity, especially not from Billy.
At least most of the children had been given an easy way out. Caz couldn’t even step into the room where their bodies were, but Brodie’s sullen sigh was all he needed to know that they were there, and they were many.
He refused to remember why it affected him so much. He would only ever relive that in his nightmares, and even then it was never an accurate memory, always somehow worse. Who knows; maybe it was better that way.)
Sneaky infected stalked them from the shadows, large ones barreled down the rotten tunnels at them, small ones leapt from overhead piping and howled from the vents. It was never a peaceful moment down in the tunnels, but by some miracle they made it to an exit, and that exit just so happened to lead out to the little town, less than a mile from Kansas.
On the other side of the heavy metal door, which had been barricaded and almost cost them their lives, there was a warning scrawled out in red paint: Infection inside, stay away.
“Ugh, fuck off,” Caz muttered to the writing, as though it could hear the words feel guilty. Why couldn’t the other entrance have something indicating the horrors inside?
Dogs chased each other in the streets of the tiny town, with signs that it had been inhabited after the outbreak, but had since been left to nature. Some houses were too overgrown to enter, and some of them had markers signaling Infection inside, completely boarded up. Some of the houses still had useful supplies, and they made sure to grab as much as their packs and pockets could hold.
Just as the radio tower came into view through the trees, a gunshot rang out. A bullet put a hole in a car door, barely a few inches from Brodie’s head.
They all ducked for cover as the unseen sniper fired again, this time almost hitting Billy’s back. Caz pulled him just a little farther behind the wall they’d hid behind. Raffs and Brodie were behind the car, their own weapons in hand. Scavs shouted in sadistic joy, yelling shit like how they were cornered, and how they’d love to finally kill them, get revenge for their fallen friends.
Caz was determined to not give them that chance, and by the looks on the others faces, so were they.
Brodie made his way to the house where the sniper was set up, while the rest of them drew the scavengers’ attention. When the first shot hit a scav Caz was struggling with, he grinned. The bastards were beginning to panic, with their shooter dead and the three on the ground continuing to tear through their numbers.
And then the truck arrived, its racket bringing out the hoard of infected that they’d been lucky enough to not draw the attention of, despite the gunfire.
Between the infected, the human enemies, and the dimming sunlight, the fight felt like it was going on forever. The scavengers were divided between them and the monsters, but so were they. Brodie continued to pop anyone or anything that came close, Raffs held his own with his gun and bat, Billy stayed out of the way and made good use of his screwdriver shiv, and Caz did his best to guide them through the increasingly chaotic carnage while taking on any enemies he had to.
During a very brief lull in the action, Caz spotted a man stepping out of the scavs’ truck; heavyset and bald, wielding a machete and a mean look. Addair. He cut down infected as though he truly enjoyed it. Scavenger reinforcements had arrived, spreading out.
He didn’t watch for long; an unseen infected tackled Raffs to the ground, snapping and snarling like an animal. The young man got his bat between himself and the gnashing teeth, but the thing’s many, many claws and sharp jutting bones cut into his clothes, leaving gashes in the fabric. Before he could react, Brodie fired a shot into the side of its head, sending goopy brain matter and bone fragments flying. It toppled over, and got back up in a second, but Raffs was already getting to his feet and beating it back into the concrete until it stopped regenerating.
And then they heard it; trees cracking and tumbling, wood splintering and rocks crumbling, houses collapsing under the strain of something gigantic hitting their roofs.
With the dwindling sunlight, Caz spotted it when it came over a small hill. An infected, towering over the little town on three spindly, many-jointed legs, more bone and cartilage than anything else. When the legs buckled, wiry tendrils shot out from its fleshy mass to stabilize it on trees and buildings. What might’ve been hundreds of different arms hung down from its underside, and other limbs were strewn about its form. Pieces of roofing and concrete stuck out of its flesh, and a decayed satellite dish was protruding from where a face would be.
And it was coming right towards them.
Both Caz and his little group, and Addair’s scavengers, scattered. Fighting through the comparatively weak infected, they made for the nearest stable house. In the corner of his eye, he could see Brodie making a break for them, using his empty rifle to keep the infected at bay. Raffs was limping, but seemed okay. Billy’s hand twisted the back of Caz’s jacket to avoid getting lost in the panic. Scavengers ran past them in a frenzy as the giant infected lumbered onto the street.
They reached the house, Brodie shouldering the door until it broke down. He went first, followed by Raffs, but when Caz went to go inside, he was shoved harshly to the rotten floorboards. He turned to yell at Billy, only to find him on his ass right next to him.
In the doorway, Addair stood, panting from exertion and covered in gore. Behind him, Caz could see the scavengers still in the open getting picked off by the infected.
“Tricky fuckers, you lot,” Addair hissed, slamming the door shut behind him. The screams and wails didn’t seem to get any quieter. “You kill my men, send us on a fucking chase halfway across the city—“
“Your men wrecked our damn truck!” Caz snapped. “They took our shit, tried to kill us! And you wanna play the fucking victim?”
Thankfully, his outburst distracted the man from Brodie creeping up behind him from the other room, just out of his line of sight. “You decided to go through our city, come to our base. You should’ve known better!”
“Oh, fuck off!” Caz moved to stand, but froze when Addair upholstered his handgun and aimed it at his head. He saw Brodie freeze too, before he continued carefully navigating the creaky floor. If Addair noticed him, he’d kill Caz and Billy, and possibly kill Raffs and Brodie too. He had to keep him talking. “Why the fuck are building an army, anyway? You seriously think you can take on CADAL with a bunch of stupid—“
“They killed my son.” That shut Caz up. “They killed him despite knowing he wasn’t infected, just because they could. How many more have they murdered without reason, or consequence?” He nodded at Caz’s jacket, and the CADAL insignia embroidered on the collar, the usual garb for QZ citizens. “But you knew that, right? That every CADAL soldier is just a sadistic bitch with a gun and a license.”
“And you’re any better? You’re killing people for their supplies, just because you want to.” Caz couldn’t care less, but Brodie was almost within range. Addair scowled, finger tightening on the trigger, but Caz pretended to not notice. He could see in his eyes that he wasn’t all too sane. “Why are you telling us this? What, do you bitch at everyone you plan to kill?”
Addair scoffed. “You’d make a good member of the army, y’know. If only you didn’t mouth off so much.”
Just as he fired, Brodie stabbed a chipped and rusted kitchen knife into Addair’s back. The force sent his stumbling, and the bullet that would’ve gone through Caz’s skull grazed Billy’s ear instead. Caz jumped to his feet, just as Addair straightened up. Before he could do anything, though, Caz rammed his shoulder into the rebel leader’s chest. He fell backwards, crashing through the front door and tumbling down the porch stairs, landing in a bleeding heap on the crumbling sidewalk.
“You—“ Addair coughed, standing up on wobbling legs. “You can’t—!”
One second the man was spluttering and wheezing. The next, he was a splatter of blood and gore on the ground. Bone splintered with nauseating crunches, flesh ripped as his skin was nearly flayed from his muscle. The huge, bony limb seemed to dissolve and absorb the viscera and bloody tissue, taking most of the remains with it as it rose, chunks of concrete sticking to the mess. The big infected continued staggering down the street, headed towards the last few survivors still fighting. The other two legs were covered in blood and flesh from its other victims.
At his side, Billy dry-heaved. Brodie pulled them away from the door, and away from the wandering infected lingering on the street. Raffs had found a back door, and after hopping a small fence, they were back on their way to the radio tower, still mulling over what happened.
—
“So, how long have you been traveling?” Brodie asked, his face still twisted up from his swig of hard liquor. He stretched where he was lying on his sleeping bag. “You and Billy. You two friends or not, seems to change every time you guys talk.”
Caz huffed, drinking from the bottle they were sharing before answering. “About, uh… a month or so? Month and a half? And no, we’re not friends.” He debated telling the man the full truth, and between the alcohol and the events of the last twenty-four hours, it was an easy choice. “I’m taking him cross-country, to the Fireflies.”
“The Fireflies?” That gave Brodie pause. “What do they want with him? He doesn’t seem like the, um… soldier type?”
“Not at all,” Caz laughed. “No, he’s… they need him for a… a cure.”
“A cure.” Brodie deadpanned, clearly not believing it. “Bullshit. C’mon, you can tell me. Is he an enemy of them or something, what’d he do?”
“I’m serious, really. He’s, uh. He’s immune.”
Brodie seemed to think that over for a moment, before laughing so suddenly that Caz jumped. “For real?! You really believe it?! A cure, man! No fucking way.” He shook his head, holding out a hand for the bottle.
“I don’t,” Caz sighed. “The whole ‘cure’ thing is just stupid, a fever dream… but he really is immune. I’ve seen him get the Infection in him, and, well, he’s still kicking, right?”
They both looked towards the other room, where Billy and Raffs were sitting through their remaining supplies. At this point, they were probably just slacking off and chatting, but Caz and Brodie didn’t mind.
“So, if you don’t believe in a cure, why go this far out of your way to make it?” Brodie laid back with his head pillowed on his backpack, staring up at the ceiling. “Can’t have been easy, that’s for sure.”
“I…” Caz copied him, pulling the moth-eaten blanket up to his chest. It wasn’t really that cold, but it was comforting. “I promised a friend that I’d see it through. He died soon after we left our zone. Infected.”
Brodie was silent for a minute, before humming sympathetically. “I’m sorry.” Another minute of quiet. “I promised his mum, that I’d keep him safe. She died years ago. A more… natural infection.” Caz knew who he was talking about. He could hear Raffs laughing in the other room. “This was his first real time out, you know? This was his first time killing other people.”
Caz winced. He remembered his first kill; it wasn’t pleasant, especially in the days afterwards. But, it was necessary in this world. Kill or be killed, dog eat dog.
They didn’t speak for the rest of the night. The others joined them a little while later.
—
Caz woke up to shouting. He was fully awake in a matter of seconds, and good thing he was. The door to the side room slammed open so hard it cracked the wall, and Billy came stumbling out with Raffs at his front.
Only, it wasn’t Raffs. Boils covered his limbs, his hair fell out and his face came loose from his skull, skin sagging and tendrils made of tendons piercing through his joints. His legs were fused together, his lower half bulbous and bleeding. He had turned.
Caz pulled his pistol from under his makeshift pillow and leveled it at the monster. Before he could fire, though, another shot sent the gun flying from his grip. Behind him, Brodie had backed into the corner, aiming his gun at Raffs, then at Caz, and then at Raffs again. He was hyperventilating, his eyes fixed on the remnants of his friend, his son.
Billy cried out as the infected’s sharp tendrils dug into his arm, pinning him to the floor as it snapped at his face. It kept making sobbing sounds, sniffling without a nose to breath through.
“Brodie!” Caz roared, diving for his gun, but it was too far away. All that did was draw the monster’s attention to himself, and it dragged itself to him far too fast to avoid. He wasn’t even in a position to defend himself. All he could do was raise his arm and pray it couldn’t bite or tear through his thin top, his thick jacket still balled up on his sleeping bag.
Right before it reached him, its skull shattered and it slumped against the floor, still shuddering. Another shot hit it, and then another, round after round rendering its head to paste. Through the gunshots, Caz could hear Brodie screaming in agony.
Finally, the shooting stopped. Everyone panted, still tired, all of them reeling. Billy stared at Raffs’ remains, and then his eyes darted to Brodie, a yell leaving him. Caz knew what was about to happen before it did, and he closed his eyes as one last gunshot rang out in the small room, followed by the gun clattering to the ground and a body collapsing into a limp heap.
“Get the bags.”
“What - Caz—“
“Now. We need to get out of here before something comes to investigate.”
Billy stared at him for a moment, mouth agape and a look of disbelief on his face. Caz ignored him, standing up and going to Brodie’s backpack. He ignored the man’s body too, scooping up the discarded pistol and moving on. Eventually, Billy went to grab Raffs’ and his own packs. He moved in fits and starts, still processing.
They couldn’t afford to wait, though. Anything could be drawn by the commotion, and Caz didn’t want to hang around to see what.
Brodie and Raffs wouldn’t want their things to go to waste, anyways. That was for sure.