Forsaken

Deciding to start with the basics, she kept it simple for now. “Thank you… for… taking care of me.” Her voice was soft, little more than a harsh whisper, scratchy from disuse. Despite it having been dead silent when she’d walked into the room (and she knew he hadn’t heard her because nothing about his body language had shown that he was ignoring her), he didn’t so much as bat an eye as he turned his head to look at her.

“You’re welcome.” His tone was even, simply responding to her before he went back to looking down his sight. Shifting her weight again, Carrie chewed on her bottom lip nervously, not entirely sure what to do. Then again, she supposed going back to the basics is always a good idea, as far as manners were concerned.

“…I’m sorry... for how I acted earlier…” Apologies weren’t exactly her forte, however, he’d been, for whatever reason, kind enough to not leave her there in the open and give her food, both of which were dangerous moves on his part- he’d risked retrieving her, despite the chances of running into a nearby hoard or even a loan runner. Or multiple runners. Actually, that was something that was so disturbing she didn’t want to think about it, so instead she focused on what was going on right now. Like her apologizing for her behavior, which could only be described as deplorable at best. In fact, her mother might have knocked Carrie flat on her ass, despite the woman’s age and the fact that her eldest daughter was a grown woman- You’re never too old to be punished by your parents. Mostly that had been applied during her teenage years, to make sure that she didn’t think she was above getting whipped. Still her mother would have by no means approved of her treatment to the man who’d saved her life.

“It is okay.” He turned his attention back to the scope.

“I….I’m Carrie.”

“Nikolai.”There was only a slight hesistation before he had spoke and she could have sworn there had been an ever so slightly agitated sigh after she’d spoken again. It was then that she figured out that her chattering was keeping him doing something. What, she didn’t know. Why was he staring down a rifle out a window? Surely he wasn’t shooting zombies? Please no. She hoped not- guns made needless noise. It was better to bash in a zombie’s brain with the back end of one. Might take more effort, but it was a lot quieter.

Not until after she saw his shoulder jerk back as he pulled out the spent shell of the rifle and reloaded did she realize he’d fired. Wait, what? She hadn’t heard a thing. If hadn’t been for the soft tinkling of the bullets in the ammo box he had lying next to him, she would have thought that, somehow, she had fallen deaf. Which would have been a nightmare- sound was bad, but only because it told her when those things were going to try and eat her. So in a twisted way, sound was good. Because it scared her. Moving to the other side of the window, she looked down to see what he was doing. Just in time, apparently, as she watched one the zombies’ heads explode, like an over ripe grape that someone had squeezed just a little too hard between their fingers.

This confused her. Not the killing zombies part- she understood and approved of that. But the pointless wasting of the ammo. That was what she didn’t understand. From what she could see, it wasn’t as if he was doing it to clear a path to some other building. He was shooting just to watch their heads explode.Not that watching their heads explode wasn’t a favorite pastime of Carrie’s these days, but only when there was a purpose to the shooting.For each of those things that he shot, there’d just be more to replace the fallen numbers. Before she had too much time to process it, the question was out of her.
“What are you doing?” She asked, watching him tense up, like he’d forgotten she’d been there in the first place, and her softly spoken words had spooked him.

“I believe the American term is ‘Putting them down’.” Was his only reply, the volume of his voice making her flinch. Apparently she had a thing for masochism, because she spoke again, her voice just as soft, barely audible.

“Why? It won’t do anything. We’re probably the only humans in this entire city.”
He was silent for a moment, what he was doing or thinking, Carrie didn’t know. Her body relaxed at the silence, watching this Nikolai guy as he again reloaded the rifle, stared down the scope, and after only a moments hesitation, shot another one of the stumbling corpses, who dropped like a ton of bricks.

“They were human once too- they’re in pain.” His own voice was soft, quiet, to the point that Carrie had barely been able to hear him. But that was okay. Preferable really, so long as he wasn’t being loud and drawing the attention of the zombies.

She honestly hadn’t thought about that- obviously some unconscious part of her had known that they’d been human once, since that where zombies come from. The unfortunate people who got bitten. But she’d never really thought about it that way. Not that they had used to be people. Just that an infected person will eventually become one of them.
Carrie certainly hadn’t thought about them being in pain. Only the pain that they had caused her.The fear. After all, the only thing she ever saw them do was moan and try to eat whatever they could get their hands on.

Not having anything to say to him in response to that, she stayed silent, simply staring out the window, watching as he yet again loaded his weapon and fired. Apparently he missed, as none of the zombies dropped- they just continued to shamble about, hoping that something would happen to come across them on accident. Carrie’s guess was confirmed when she heard what she assumed was a curse in his first language. It certainly didn’t sound like any of the ones she knew.

Intending to go back to her room, Carrie turned around before hearing him speak again, in English.

“We will need to move soon.”

At that, she stopped, for several reasons.

“We?”

Her tone was defensive, not liking the feelings she was experiencing. As if she was being backed into a corner. “Yes, even if you choose to go on your own, we have been here too long. Scents will…” He paused, apparently trying to think of the right word. “, accumulate. They will know we are here.”

They will know we are here. A deeply rooted fear settled within her. Those six words terrified her on the primitive level possible. A small, involuntary whine of fear escaped her, high in pitch. Just the idea sent her brain into overdrive, plotting escape routes. She needed to move. Leave. Now. They hadn’t necessarily realized that their favorite type of meal was only a few stories up and to their right. But most zombies didn’t understand ‘up’, from what Carrie could figure out, and those that did couldn’t be bothered with the concept unless they knew for a fact that something was up there in the first place.

“We will leave tomorrow, in the morning- I am not holding you prisoner, though safety in numbers is generally the rule.”

Yeah, also meant that there’d be more pickings for the zombies if something went wrong- larger groups meant more likely to get caught.

But just one more person wouldn’t be too much of a pain. Actually, that might help some… so she could actually get some sleep. Sure, Duke would keep guard, should she sleep, but there was only so much that he could do.

Then again, he did everything for her, never asking for anything back in return. That kind of loyalty was hard to find, even back when the end of the world wasn’t knocking on humanity’s door step.

Speaking of Duke, she heard the soft sound of his footfalls down the hallway, wandering towards her. The oh so soft jingle of his tags gave away that he was there.

There really wasn’t anything to say, so they stayed silent. Only when the rain started again did he withdraw his rifle from the window pane and close the glass.

“Now would be the best time to move.” Nikolai spoke, and Carrie was barely able to hear him over the strengthening pattering of the rain.