The Fox, the Hound and the Virus

The Problem

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Chapter Thirteen

The Problem

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Will was forced to come out of hiding eventually. If nothing else, he desperately needed to take a piss. One small problem with this being the very obviously locked door and no other escapes. He did try all the same. He wouldn't be much of a fox if he didn't sniff every crack, tap every board and carefully inspect every window and doorway. It was sealed tight. He did find a bucket which confused him.

Was this supposed to be his toilet? That was oddly... thoughtful.

Again, he was struck with the reminder that infected weren't supposed to have enough intelligence for that kind of forethought. They weren't supposed to be able to plan more than a few minutes ahead, beasts of the moment just like any other animal with some basic understanding of dangerous places from past trauma. An infected could learn to avoid a place that filled them full of bullets, for example, but they weren't supposed to be able to understand why the bullet caused so much pain.

Will was starting to think he really should throw away all the knowledge he had about the infected. With very little choice other than pissing on the damn floor, Will used the bucket and placed it in the furthest corner away from the bed. Then he went to sit back down. He had plenty of time to think in the silence of his prison room.

He could hear crickets chirping and cicadas humming in the warm summer night. The storm clouds had completed dissipated, perhaps not to return for several long blistering months. Will normally loved the smell of summer, the scents of dry earth and crackling leaves. That hot concrete and icy water combination always sent happy shivers down his spine. As kids, he and Zoe used to steal the ice tray from the freezer and sit on the front steps, chewing the frozen cubes as the sun beat down overhead. Even after Zoe cracked a tooth that one year, they didn't stop.

He sighed. At least, out of this huge mess, Zoe would be safe. She would be angry, and worried and scared but she would be safe. He didn't blame Rob, not really. They couldn't have known about the trap. Will had expected something strange and unexplained but nothing like this.

Will's stomach growled. He must have been here for over twenty-four hours by this point. His throat clicked audibly as he swallowed. He was getting thirsty. How likely were his captors to feed him? With little other choice and nothing else to do, Will laid back on the bed. He should be appreciating the bed. The covers were a little dusty, but the mattress was soft, worn down on two sides from the couple that would have once lived here.

Will stared up at the ceiling, wondering about those people. Where were they now? How many houses were out there in the world, now standing empty like shells on a beach, steadily dulling and losing their colour and shapes until they were little more than broken grains of a once proud and loved structure. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore his hunger.

There wasn't much to do but wait.

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Peter had to give their boss credit; he was a brave man. If there had been any throwable or even remotely stabby objects in reach, he was damn sure Zoe would have gone for it. Even so, she lunged for Rob as he opened the truck door. He dodged and she tumbled out of the cab, righted herself and lunged again, her left fist curled for a punch.

'Zoe, please give us a minute to-'

'You gave my brother to that thing! I'll kill you all!' Wow. Well, that was intense. Rob was forced to dodge as she went for his face, fingernails hooked liked claws.