The Messengers of Sanctuary

35 - Chicory

Chicory sprinted with almost all she had, using the heat to aid her as she entered the area that the Pyros had been swarming.

She didn't know exactly what she'd expected, but some part of her still thought that it would be just a regular patch of land, perhaps with a few caves maybe. Some zombies liked caves, right?

Well it wasn't empty, and it was entirely devoid of caves as far as Chicory could tell. That wasn't the part though that had Chicory blinking in confusion.

It was the fact that this was clearly a camp.

There were around six zombies milling around it, but they were also clearly sane. They acted mostly human, all things considered. Occasionally they would glance to the place where Chicory and River had lured a regular zombie, but besides that, they seemed to be going about their business relatively normally.

Chicory decided to take a chance, she hadn't met any sane zombies that were maniacs, so she figured doing so now would be both unlikely and a terrible stroke of bad luck. She exited her hidden spot, frowning as some type of eerie owl-like call sounded from the direction River had been. Odd, what was that?

The zombies glanced toward the call with worry, two of them running off toward it, presumably to see what it was about. It was just enough of a distraction that no one saw Chicory approaching until she was halfway there.

The one who spotted her snarled in surprise, backing up with narrowed eyes and watching her warily, the other three looked to see what the commotion was, but Chicory was already waving, "Uh, hello? I'm Chicory, I was wondering who you guys are?"

There was a quick discussion in Spanish before one of the guys was sent forward. He still held himself in that strange stance that most zombies used to project aggression, but he stopped several arm lengths away from her and stood up straight, folding his arms.

He was a fairly short guy, only a handspan or so above Chicory. He wore a sleeveless shirt, a very smart choice in this heat. On his left forearm was a strange mark that...somehow looked like a brand. He also didn't look very Hispanic, his skin was too light and his hair too dark. His eye shape was strange too, but it still had the characteristic red of the zombie virus.

Looking back at the other pyros, he seemed to be the only one who didn't have the light the brown skin and dark hair that most folks down here sported. The only discrepancy from a regular Hispanic person for the rest of them was their bright red eyes.

He glared for a long moment and finally spoke, using surprisingly clear English. "We keep telling your emissaries that we aren't moving someplace else. No one else wants us there either and you're no different. So you can save yourself the effort and leave."

Chicory blinked, recognizing the classic case of mistaken identity, "What? I'm just passing through with a friend and we saw your camp. I was just wondering if I could find out who you were."

The man growled, but it didn't sound much like a regular zombie's growl, or even River's whenever he decided to be difficult. His eyes brightened with aggression, and Chicory felt the heat rise in response, probably brightening her own eyes. His eyes though...they were strange.

It took her far too long to pin down what it was, but now it was very clear. His eyes seemed red at first, but they had more of a sheen to them than most zombies. They were narrowed with annoyance and anger, but they were clearly...well they were golden now. They hadn't been golden before.

Chicory blinked at them, her mind circling unhelpfully as she did her best to look somewhat curious anyway, "Well yeah, you clearly aren't human, no need to be rude about it." she rolled her eyes extravagantly, trying to figure out where she was going with this.