Katherine woke up to the sounds
of someone whooping for joy.
She looked at the window, but the
usual amount of sunlight wasn’t peeping through the curtains. That meant she
had woken up too early. She would have cursed if she was awake enough. She
tried to go back to sleep, burying her head in the pillow, but the whooping
didn’t go away.
After what were some very long
minutes of indecision, she decided to grouchily see what all the fuss was
about.
The sounds were coming from
Kenneth’s bedroom. As she walked over, an exciting thought pulsed through her
mind: had he got his ability? There weren’t many other reasons for Kenneth to
be this excited.
She found his room door slightly
ajar, and pushed her way in to find a room that had elevated being messy to
some kind of chaotic art form. Papers and clothes were lying around like
drunken partygoers long after the party had ended. And in the middle of
everything was Kenneth, who was running to and fro, tossing small things about,
and then catching them, and then tossing them again, his limbs dancing around
like excitable monkeys.
She was about to ask him what on
earth he was doing when she noticed just how fast he was moving.
“Big sister!” said Kenneth in a state
of euphoria, “Look how fast I can move! This must be my ability! I finally have
an ability! This is so amazing!”
Katherine couldn’t help grinning
too.
“Yes! Oh my God, you’ve got
enhanced speed!” she said happily as she moved towards him to hug him, “I knew
you wouldn’t be a Dudder!”
“Wait a minute,” said Kenneth,
suddenly frowning, “What’s wrong with your legs?”
Katherine, a little puzzled,
looked down to see several wounds gaping out from tears in her pyjamas. What in
the – they hadn’t been there when she woke up, had they? She touched one of the
wounds and found fresh blood on her finger.
“Big sister, help!” came the
sharp cry from Kenneth.
She looked up in horror to see
him drowning in a sea of Zombies, his skinny arms flailing as the horde of hungry
creatures began to tear at him, hack at his fair skin.
“KENNETH! NO!”
*
Katherine woke up to the sounds
of someone painfully coughing.
Before she could get up to see
who it was though, jolts of pain ripped through her body like a swarm of eels.
The shock of it had her immediately flat on the ground again.
The pain wasn’t so bad the second
time she tried though, and she managed to prop herself up into a sitting
position, leaning heavily against the tree behind her.
Tree?
Slowly, the details of a sparse
forest at night began to bleed into her vision, and the eerie calls of undead
birds began to seep into her ears. And through it all, the coughing
occasionally popped its head in. The coughing, that was a person coughing,
wasn’t it? She tried to locate the source of the sound, and found it reclined
near another tree.
Katherine gasped. And tried to
get up. The jolts returned, persistent but with less venom, and forced her to
move much slower than she would have liked.
Lizbeth looked like she was just
as exhausted as Katherine felt. She looked up as a distraught Katherine
approached, and smiled feebly.
“Hey…”
“Twinkle! Damn it, you need
help!”
“No, no… koff….I patched myself up… after I did you… koff…”
But Katherine fussed over her
anyway, looking for any wounds that hadn’t been dressed or wrapped up. When she
couldn’t find any beside one gash on Lizbeth’s back, she quickly patched it up
to the best of her ability, and then sat down on the ground in front of Lizbeth
in an unsatisfied huff. Even now, with her friend – her only friend, it felt like – on the verge of something sinister,
there was nothing much she could do.
“Where are we?” Katherine
managed, when Lizbeth’s coughing began to grate at the uncomfortable silence.
“I don’t know…” said Lizbeth,
“When we were up there… surrounded by Zombies… koff… I took us to the first… empty space that I saw… koff!”
The answer didn’t really give
Katherine anything to go on, but she didn’t want to press Lizbeth, not in the
terrible condition she was clearly in.
Katherine thought she had borne
as much pain as she could already handle in the last few waking moments she
could remember. But more pain had decided to pile itself on her regardless; the
sight of a broken, dishevelled Lizbeth crumpled on the ground in front of her
was too much for her to bear. She curled up into a ball and buried her face in
her folded arms, fighting back the tears.
“I’m sorry I failed you,
Lizbeth,” she half-choked, “Everyone I cared about here – Kenneth, you, Dodo,
Trigger – I couldn’t save you when I was supposed to. And now Kenneth is dead,
Trigger is dead, Dodo is probably dead, and you… you’re here in this mess, and
you’re hurt all over, because I couldn’t do my duty. And there’s nothing more I
can do to make any of that better!”
Lizbeth let her blubber on for a
few more minutes, only coughing intermittently, before speaking once Katherine
had run out of tear-fuelled steam.
“Big Sis, don’t be an idiot… koff!”
Katherine raised her head in
confusion.
“Eagle and Falcon are alive…
because of what you koff! … what you
did… I was already infected… before I came back… koff… for you and Zippo… are you sure he’s koff dead?”
Lizbeth had always been
fair-skinned, but Katherine had never seen her look this pale before. It was as
if her skin was slowly turning into some soft variant of alabaster. Her own
skin was also probably several shades lighter from the toll all the anguish was
taking on her.
“I saw him get thrown into a
house, yelling – he sounded like he was injured. And I couldn’t move a muscle
to save him. And then…” Katherine choked up again, the words wallowing in the
stickiness of her throat, “the Zombie horde swarmed the house, and they swarmed
me too, just before you took me out of there.”
The tears were finally allowed to
trickle down her face. There was no point in keeping them back anyway.
“I’ve always looked out for him,
always had his back since we were kids. And at the moment he needed me there
the most, I couldn’t do it. And now he’s gone, and I couldn’t even say goodbye.
What the hell kind of a guardian does that make me!?”
Lizbeth was quiet. It could have
been because she didn’t know what to say, or because she was saving her
strength; it was hard to tell.
Katherine fished inside her
battered bodysuit for the bear totem. When she found it, she gave it one last
look. “You found the wrong person to follow,” she told it, as if it would
actually listen, “I’m sorry I failed you. Find another warrior who’s more
deserving of your guidance.”
She then flung it away into the
trees as hard as she could. But, by some strange quirk, the totem slipped in
her grasp as she threw it, and instead of going far away into the forest, it
rebounded off a couple of trees in their vicinity before landing around the
spot where Katherine had woken up at. She briefly contemplated going after it
to pick it up and throw it further away, but found that she didn’t care enough
about it.
Also, Lizbeth had suddenly
started coughing much more severely, an ugly sound that could have been her
insides trying to cough themselves out of her. When the flurry of noise had
died down, Lizbeth reached out for one of her short-swords with a hand that was
shaking so hard the rest of her body was vibrating along with it.
She knew the answer already, but
Katherine still found herself asking the question: “Twinkle, what are you
doing?”
Lizbeth struggled more than usual
to bring out the words.
“I don’t want to become… one of
them… koff koff… rather kill myself…”
Katherine stretched out a hand
and restrained her friend.
“No! I can’t let you do that to
yourself, not after everything that’s happened!”
That plaster-skinned face simply
turned towards Katherine’s own, the once intensely blue eyes somehow draining
themselves of colour as well.
“Then koff do it for me… please…
don’t let me be koff! One of those…
things…”
As Katherine stared at the
short-sword that had been lightly tossed at Lizbeth’s feet by a trembling hand,
she thought back to Captains Masterton and Carpenter and how they’d solemnly
shot down the two infected soldiers. They hadn’t enjoyed it, obviously, but
they must have been able to summon some immense kind of will to do it. Looking
at the blade now, Katherine was very sure that she didn’t have that kind of
willpower in her already. Killing anonymous Zombies that were out for her blood
was one thing, but killing a dear friend like this? Someone who had risked
their life to save hers?
“Please…I beg you, Big Sis…”
And then the image of the Zombie
she had let go wandered into her vision. Those lidless eyes staring at her,
that croak of a voice pleading for mercy… she hadn’t found the strength to do the
deed back then, with a stranger; how on Entropea was she going to find the
strength to do it now?
Lizbeth was starting to reach for
her other short sword now, and Katherine was shaken out of her reverie.
“No, no! I’ll… I’ll do it,” she
said, her voice shaking as much as Lizbeth’s hand, “I promise.”
She picked up the sword on the
ground, trying to recall the prayer that the captains used to utter. Maybe
there was strength to be found in the prayer, even though Katherine herself had
very rarely considered herself a religious person, and had all but given up on
the idea of a deity looking out for her well-being at this point.
“Our great God in Heaven, here
lies… here lies a soldier who fought with her friends and for her people, to
reclaim Mortanny – no, Faeritalum… your land… from the monsters who… from the
Zombies who have been here since the Great Plague. She fought brave, she fought
hard, and she fought with honour. She saved my life, and countless others. I
wish I could do the same for her, but I can’t, so this is the next best thing I
can do. But it’s not easy, and I need your help. I need to find the strength to
do it, at a time when I have been drained of it both physically and mentally.
And… and it’s not easy because I have to kill someone who has only ever been a
dear friend, the best of friends even… oh God please, please help me…”
And then she remembered the bear
totem. It was maybe a bit silly, but she needed anything she could get.
Promising Lizbeth that she would be back, she walked over to the patch of
ground where she thought it had fallen down it.
It had fallen around there, hadn’t it? It must have, because it hit
that tree over there, and then rebounded here, so – ah there it was!
It had only been a little
scratched up by the throw. She carefully wore it around her neck, and then returned
to where Lizbeth was, short sword held firmly in hand.
She knelt down beside her friend,
and took a deep breath. She clutched the totem in her hand for a few seconds,
as though it would help. It didn’t. She took another deep breath.
“Please… koff… do it quickly…”
The surest way to do it would be
to drive the sword straight through her head. Both of them knew this. Not only
would Lizbeth be dead, but she wouldn’t be able to re-emerge as a Zombie that
way. Anything else would kill her, but not for long.
But something inside Katherine
stirred, a feeling that was a bit like hope, but wearing all the wrong clothes
and having an odd expression on its face. The Zombie who had asked her for
mercy, the others at the camps that had not tried to fight them… maybe, just
maybe, there were some people who re-emerged as peaceful Zombies, who didn’t
try to kill anything that wasn’t already dead. It was worth a try, wasn’t it?
What other options did she have at this point?
“I’m sorry, Twinkle,” she said
with a hint of grim finality, and then, drawing back her arm, she plunged the
sword straight into Lizbeth’s heart.
As Lizbeth’s eyes flung open in
shock, the life already beginning to soar away from them, Katherine tried to
dig the sword in even further, as far as she could, until it began to pierce
through wood. And then she pushed some more, as Lizbeth’s face stopped moving
altogether, frozen in a morbid state of confusion and pain. Her slim body,
already limp from the disease, slowly settled into a state of complete lifelessness.
Katherine kept pushing until she
could feel Lizbeth’s cold body hit the hilt of the sword. And only then, her
hands slowly inching away from the handle, only then did Katherine finally stop
and move away from Lizbeth. She stretched out a hand to close the lids of those
frigid blue eyes.
And then, curling herself up as
tightly as she could as the chill of the night began to poke its sharp fingers
at her from all sides, she began to cry once more. Big, sloppy tears washed her
away into a fitful sleep, filled with more visions of familiar faces drowning
in abysses filled with snarling Zombies.
*
Katherine woke up to the sounds
of someone snarling.
Oh no.
She woke up, her body a little
sore from having to endure the cold with minimal protection and a generous
helping of scars. It was still dark outside, but the forest had gone quiet, as
though it too was taking the opportunity to sneak in a nap.
Quiet except for the snarling,
that is.
Lizbeth had turned, and was now a
Zombie. And apparently a very upset, and hungry one at that. As Katherine
slowly approached her, her head snapped towards Katherine with an odd jerk, and
she began to snarl even louder, hungrily even. Her hands were trying to pull
out the sword that was currently pinning her to the tree, but the effort was
proving futile. Even though Zombies were capable of above-average feats of
strength at times, this was one feat that needed strength far beyond average;
Katherine had driven the sword deep into the trunk behind Lizbeth.
Katherine’s eyes began to well up
again; she didn’t know how much more sadness and misery she could handle, but
the sight of a re-animated Lizbeth that clearly did not have peaceful
intentions was about to break past that limit.
This part should have been easy,
thought Katherine. She had dealt the killing blow to so many Zombies before
this; her knuckles twinged with a knowing sensation at the thought. It was
especially easy to kill them when they very clearly wanted to do the same to
her. And yet… even with its skin starting to turn the greenish-brown shade of
decay, its short hair starting to fall off and its exposed wounds starting to
fester and bubble with pus, the creature pinned to the tree still had too much
of Lizbeth left in it.
Katherine raised a fist, slowly
enlarging as she prepared to smash in the creature’s head – and then lowered
it. It wasn’t any old creature’s head. It was Lizbeth’s head. She had already killed her friend once, and that
had taken everything out of her. She couldn’t do it again.
But she also couldn’t stay around
with those awful snarls pounding at her ears.
“Goodbye, Twinkle, my friend,”
she said sadly, “if there’s any of you still in there, somewhere.”
After a pause, she then added:
“You deserve better than this.”
And then she began to wander away
from the creature, her every step soaking with regret and trembling from the
cold. She walked as far away as she could, the snarls dying down with every
yard she covered. The forest gave way to a few clearings here and there, but
was otherwise devoid of any kind of milestones she could measure her progress
with.
Even when the growls had finally
disappeared, she kept moving, fuelled by the fear that if she stopped, the cold
would freeze her in place. Her feet began to hurt from continuously slamming
onto the winter-hardened forest floor. The thought didn’t occur to her that she
could increase her size until her head cleared the forest, and she could then
see which way to go; her mind had been taken past its limit and, like a
trembling rubber band, it had broken.
She kept moving, her steps
becoming less and less sure, until she tripped on an errant root and collapsed
in a sad heap on the forest floor. She tried to get up, but then asked herself
what the point of it was. Where was she even going? What was her plan when she
got there?
Rolling onto her back so that the
clear night sky could be made out through the web of branches that was the roof
of the forest, she stared for a while. She tried to find stars, but none
glimmered that night. There was a faint sickly glow being delivered by a
crescent moon that looked like it too was fed up with life.
Maybe this was appropriate, she
thought. After having failed to save her brother and her friends, the only
people she cared about, the only ones who would have gone through hell to save
her in return, it was only fitting that she die here, in the middle of nowhere,
alone.
She closed her eyes, and a different kind of
darkness filled her vision.
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