Born to Fight Read online

  "You did it for me. No one leaves their family behind."

  Her words bring tears to my eyes. Even after everything she's heard, she still calls me family. Even though I'm not a normal kid/woman/girl.

  The high moans are the only sounds, beyond my breathing and the scratch of my knives on the wall.

  I ignore when my right hand slips into a doorway. I need to get out the other side, opposite the infected horde behind me. The feeling of their hands grabbing for me, lingers on my arms. I shiver as my left hand drops into a doorway again. I grab the handle. It's unlocked. I open it slowly. The air is stale but less like rotting flesh. Dim light filters in the room.

  The high moans sound like they're in the building as I slip inside and close the door. I lock it and drag a desk from the inside over to the door. It's a small office with rotting furniture and dust. Layers of dust. The smell in the stale air is the dust and mildew getting into the furniture. The small windows are closed. They don’t open but there is a door.

  "That looks like what we're looking for," she mutters.

  It still has a sign over it that says ‘Open in Case of Emergency’.

  "Feels like an emergency," I mutter back. She laughs.

  I grip the lock and take a deep breath. The windows show no signs of life, just broken down shit and bushes. The city is slowly becoming the jungle again.

  "See anything?" I ask. She shakes her head and scouts the street.

  A scratch at the door startles us both. I turn, holding my breath and waiting. Not only have they made it inside, but they can smell us. I'm not sure how they can smell us over the rotting things in the dark hallway. Then I look down at my crotch and wince. The miscarriage. It's disturbing on so many levels.

  I look out the windows again, as I turn the lock and open the door. I should have waited. I'm panicking as I peek my head out, but the scratches have become thumps on the doors.

  The fresh air of the city is welcomed. My nostrils are burning from the other smells. I look both ways and step out into it. God only knows, what waits for us.

  Anna closes the door and we turn and run. I don’t even care if more of them chase us, we just need to run. I need Leo. I'm close, I think.

  Something moves to the right of me, but I ignore it. I run. It chases us, but the gun goes off.

  In its place, I can hear footsteps behind us. I get to a wall of debris, like the one I climbed over to get into the infected section. I jump at it. I'm clawing and climbing. Anna is doing the same. We scramble up fast and furiously. I can hear them behind us, the ones who saw us running in the alley.

  My hands slip on the boards, as pieces of things under my feet break. I don’t look back. I look for Anna; she's at the top. I pull and climb. Something grabs at my boot as I get a hold of a metal bar and pull myself up. I curl up into a ball on the top of the junk wall and look back. I lean against the top of the debris wall of junk and take deep breaths. Anna nudges me, "That was scary," she heaves for air.

  I nod.

  The infected are making their way to the bottom of the wall and crowding around us. They breathe hard, making whistled sounds that will haunt my dreams forever. I am eighty-percent certain, I will be wandering aimlessly with them in a week—once the fever is done burning my brain. I don't believe everything he said to me. I don’t want to. I'd rather be dead than manufactured. I look down at the green goo and filth covering me. There is no way I have escaped getting the infection, if I can get it.

  I turn my back on them and look at the road ahead. There is a small bridge that lies in ruin and a road that looks like a highway. I'm at the edge of the city. I would sigh relief but I'm more terrified of the things outside of the city.

  The infected we can outrun or kill, but the things outside of the city are strong and armed. I glance back at the city and swallow.

  "That looks like the place, the doctor was talking about," she points to the side with the bridge.

  I nod, "Yeah, I think it is."

  The infected try to climb the wall. Their shrieks and screams are distracting and frightening. I see them differently now, though. Up close I can see it, the faces of what used to be human.

  Anna looks at them and shrugs the gun up higher on her shoulder, as she starts the climb down into the open roads. I follow.

  I still feel the bad feelings from the days before. I still feel my impending doom. I nudge her and mutter, "I had this bad dream a few times when I was in the room. It was about Leo and he was in a cage. He looked hungry and scared. His ears were twitching like a cat's. They do that when he gets nervous. He looked at me from the cage and smiled his sloppy-wolf smile. His tail wagged. But I could see a man behind the cage. Leo couldn’t see him. I tried screaming to him. I was jumping up and down and pointing but Leo just smiled at me. The man was wearing one of the space suits and holding a red-hot poker. He stuck it in the cage and Leo's fur singed. I could hear his howl. It's still haunting me."

  She shudders, "Creepy. You know he'll be fine. It's Leo."

  I chuckle, "He's survived far worse I suppose."

  "Yeah, God…he was so nice when that horrid kid of Mary's was always mauling him. Little brat."

  I laugh harder and we continue in silence. We know how to move quietly and not be seen.

  The wind whistles and replaces the sounds of the infected. The clean wind is exactly the way I remember it being, fresh and warm. The smell of rot and sewage and stale cooking is gone. I'm grateful for it, but at the same time, I miss the closed-in feeling of the city. Now my eyes dart nervously. Every speck of gravel that is dragged across the ground, sounds like footsteps. It sounds worse than the simple knock at my door. The memories flash in my mind when I let my mind wander. My doubts still think I made the wrong choice. Looking at her, I know I made the right one. I hold my knives and walk, pushing the memories away. She came for me. She is my ‘us’.

  Loving them all, and missing the ones not with us, hurts me in a way I cannot understand. It hurt when my mom died. It hurt when my dad dragged me away from my Granny's house. It hurt the most, when my dad died. But none of it hurts the way, being away from him does.

  His eyes and the way he watches me—he's always got my back. I feel tears threaten my eyes. I'll never needed anything the way I need him. He is the one who was there when I was small and scared. He's my first family member after the world ended and I was alone.

  The closer we get to the small cluster of buildings in front of us, particularly the one that says U.M.I.N.A., the worse the fears get in my belly. I'm terrified of what we will find.

  I pocket one of the knives and jog up to the first building, Anna slides along the wall with me and looks the other way. I slip along the side of it, away from her and glance around the side. It seems cleaner here. I hear something I haven’t heard in a while. A truck. I freeze and wait for a better idea of where it is. I look back at Anna; she's listening too. It's coming towards us. I turn and run for the far side of the building, following Anna. She heard the truck's direction too. She moves like I do. She is getting better and better at this life. That would make me sad, but we don’t have time for that. I look back the way we came. I don’t see anything.

  We stand there breathing softly and wait. The truck's engine has a slight squeal. We crouch in a bush and wait. The truck drives by slowly, patrolling. It's a pickup with two men in the back with huge guns. Guns like I've never seen before. They turn to the right and disappear into the tidy area.

  "The others?" she whispers.

  I shake my head subtly, "Worse, military."

  I hear her swallow, "What does that even mean?"

  I shake my head again, "I don’t know. Wait here. Cover me and shoot only when you have to."

  She gives me a look.

  Sweat is pouring down my face. My nerves and exhaustion, combined with the midday summer sun, are brutal. I creep back to where I was, trying to forget the dry feeling in my mouth, and the ache of starvation in my stomach.

  I glance up to t
he top of the buildings. I notice movement. I realize it's just like the camps. I lean against the wall and watch them. I'm never going to get him back. I turn and wave for her to follow me. We run around the building, going in the opposite direction of the guards. I round the corner and fight the feelings of rage and hopelessness that are brewing inside of me. I'm feeling psychotic enough to make my hands shake.

  I take deep breaths and glance up. No movements. Looking down the road, I can't see anything, just buildings with huge lettering and parking lots like the breeder farms. Things are clean here like the farms too, like nature is kept at bay by something. It isn’t overrun with bushes and trees and vines like in the city.

  I hear voices. Women's voices. I freeze, Anna stands right next to me. I hear her fingers slide against the gun as her grip tightens. We lean against the building and look out into the road. Two women walk with matching guns and bandanas on their heads.

  "You think they're part of the army?" I whisper.

  "I don't know. What should we do? Want me to shoot?" she asks softly, crouching down.

  I shake my head and whisper, "Get in the bush and play possum. They have guns and those matching bandanas; they're guards. This must be their patrol."

  I curl into a ball next to the bush I am beside and she follows, doing the same.

  "Don't move till I say it's okay. No matter what," I whisper into the warm silence.

  The bushes hide her and the gun. I tuck my hands behind my back, holding my knives. I let my face go slack.

  I lie there and wait. If they're any good at their job, they’ll find me. If they're really good they'll just shoot me dead. It's what I would do. But after seeing the training on the other guards, I have hope I'll be alive and well within minutes of them both being dead.

  The voices get louder, "Oh I know. I heard she was at the farms. It's sad but we all have to do our part." She sounds cold and detached.

  The other lady doesn’t sound the same. She sounds upset, "She was seventeen. It isn’t right. I don’t give a shit what anyone says, she was too young."

  The other lady's voice grows tense, "Well, when you are in ear shot of the others you better sing a different tune, Linda."

  "I will."

  They're almost on top of me. I relax my breath and play possum.

  "Oh my God—look. It's a girl." One of them rushes at me. It's the distant sounding one. Her hands are warm when they touch my arms.

  "She might be infected, Luce. Masks."

  "She isn’t infected, no fever. She's sick; look at her. She's pale."

  I take a breath and open my eyes.

  The cold lady has dark hair and soft brown eyes. She smiles, "You okay?"

  I nod and swallow.

  "You been bit?"

  I shake my head but I'm covered in brownish-green blood. I look like I'm carrying the infection.

  "Can you get up?" she asks. The other lady watches me with sharp, steel-blue eyes and holds her gun on me.

  As I get up, I move my hands fast. I slice the first lady across the throat and grab and spin her. The other woman fires but she shoots her friend in the back. I toss her friend aside and kick her legs out from under her. When she goes down, I stab into her heart hard. I pull the gun away and her bandana. I tie it around my throat the way they have it. I take the one with blue eyes and drag her into the bush. Looking around, I pull her shirt off. I rip mine off and pull on hers. We take their boots and pants too. It's against my rules, but I need clean clothes and we both need better boots. They aren’t amazing but they're better than the crap Vincent gave me.

  "Get up," I whisper.

  We rifle through the pockets and find the card that is the door key.

  "Put the bandana on the way she has it."

  We drag them both into the bushes and grab their guns. A truck comes along with men and women in it.

  "HALT!" a man shouts, just as we leave the two dead naked women.

  We stop.

  He narrows his eyes, "You fire a shot?"

  I shake my head.

  "You hear a shot?"

  I turn and point back the way I came, "No. We just came from there and a truck was driving by. It had a fan belt that was making a squeal. We didn’t hear anything but that."

  He looks that way and nods.

  I'm trembling inside. Anna is completely silent.

  "Eyes and ears open, both of you," he points forward. The people in the truck drive on. I'm sucking air, like I've held it for a year. I think I've peed my pants a little. I look down at the small wet spot and shake my head, "Damn, new pants too."

  Anna looks and smirks a little, "You having an issue?"

  I fight a grin, "Yeah. Whatever they did to me is like my monthly situation combined with no bladder control."

  She shakes her head, "We gotta get home."

  "Okay, next part we act casual like this is our patrol," I nod up ahead.

  We walk along the side of the building and I see it. It's across the wide road.

  UMINA

  There is no one. I take a breath and try to control my heartbeat. I feel like running in the other direction, when I take the first step to cross the street. The pavement here looks like before. The windows aren't stained with blood and dirty hands of the infected like everywhere else is. It looks like the infected have never been here before, like the farms. I cross the road, trying not to look wide-eyed and psychotic. We walk past the building as casually as we can.

  My skin prickles with fear and excitement.

  I can feel him, he's close.

  We walk around the back of the building, like we are doing our job. When we get to the backside, I see something that makes me sickly uncomfortable.

  "Oh God," she says.

  I swallow and glance at her. I shake my head, "It's okay."

  She turns pale, looking at the bins—huge bins, like at the breeder farm.

  I shudder and we walk up behind them. I can smell rot and trash as I climb the stairs. I don’t look around. I just try to act like this is the way we're supposed to go.

  I open the door with the keycard in my hand and hold it open for her. Inside is a hallway, not a room like the farms. It isn’t like the breeder farms at all. It's more like an office building. I don’t know where to go or what to do.

  I close the door and take a deep breath and glance back at her. She has the same lost look, I imagine is on my face.

  We walk through the hallway until we come to a room with an open door. There is a sink in the room. I leap at it and turn it on as Anna comes inside and closes the door. Cold water comes splashing out.

  "Oh my God! The water runs and there's soap," she whispers.

  I gasp and shove my hands under it. I scrub until I am raw and my knives are clean. Then I plunge my clean face in the water. I let it pour into my mouth, swallowing as fast as I can. I want to drink more, but I don’t. I know how water sickness feels and I'm more than likely leaving here with guns firing at me. I back off and let her get at it. She scrubs herself completely and then gulps the way I did. I pull her back, "You have to stop. Too much after so little, makes us sick."

  She burps and closes her eyes "I miss the farms sometimes."

  I let a small laugh escape, "I know. I miss the food. Remember Sarah got Cook to put that sauce on everything?"

  Anna smiles brightly. Her blue eyes sparkle in the dim light of the room. We're so close, I can feel it.

  The feeling like I'm going to die hasn’t left me, since I was strapped to the metal table. I still feel like it's going to be any second, but when I look at her, I know I have to get her to safety. I have an obligation to protect her. She came for me. She called me family.

  I wash my face, hands and knives. I want to take the clothes off, but until I get some replacements, I can't. At least my hands and knives are clean. Anna does the same. The soap smells exactly like the stuff in all the washrooms at the farm.

  I turn and open the door to the hallway. It's long and looks like the breeder
farms. I see stairs and hurry to the exit. Anna is behind me the whole way, moving like I do.

  We don’t look in the doors, we just walk. I open the door that has a sign and says it's to the stairs and run down them. I want to curl into a ball and hide but he needs us. He wouldn’t hide like that, if it were us missing. He took the dart for me.

  I open the thick, heavy door at the bottom of the stairs. It's filled with plants and mist. I'm confused.

  "What the hell?" she whispers.

  I shake my head, "I don’t know."

  The heavy air feels like it has just rained in the forest. I walk through, looking for other people. Plants grow, like in the greenhouse Granny had, on counters and the floor. Water sprays from pipes above. I slip through, terrified.

  "Where is everyone else?" she whispers.

  Again, I shake my head, "I don’t know. It feels like a trap."

  Our hands tighten simultaneously on the guns we're holding.

  I walk to the door on the far side, gripping my gun and looking all around me. It's too easy, something isn't right.

  I open the door with the card and crack it open a tiny bit. I listen, I almost close my eyes and try to listen like I used to do. I don't hear anything, but my ears don't work as well here. I don’t like it here. I just want to go home.

  God damned, Marshall. I clench my jaw and open the door wider. I freeze as a woman in a white coat walks past the door away from me. I hear Anna suck air against my back.

  The lady doesn’t notice us or turn around. Her long, dark hair is shiny and pulled back in a ponytail. She walks away into another door and closes it. I take a deep breath and open the door, enough to peek my head in and look about the hallway. The light is on full power here. It's weird that it's so clean and there are no infected here. There aren’t a lot of them left, but there are enough that they should at least come near here. We didn’t see anything after we left the city. Why haven’t the military firebombed the cities to kill the infected? It doesn’t even make sense, except the creepy thing Vincent said about experiments.

  I just want to get back to the borderlands. I want the feel of a bow in my hands and the wind on my face.