Bio Hazard

Revolution

Ruby wasn't always manipulative. Ruby had grown up with compassion at the forefront of her heart and kindness taking centre stage in her life. She had been born into a friendly family, gone to a friendly school and made the best of friends. Her life had been perfect. She would often go out to play in the snow with Celeste and the others. 

But that was exactly it. Ruby wasn't always manipulative. The skill, the hunger for power, was inside her the whole time, lying dormant. In this new world, she found it was very useful. And deep down, after reliving the moment in which her life turned into concentrated bitterness, she realised that Celeste was the same. Inside, she was manipulative. Manipulative and treacherous. Leaving Ruby to die.

Ruby took the most important lesson away from that experience. Never trust anyone, because you will never know what they are really like. That and she actually really enjoyed exploiting the weaknesses of others. In her twisted, probably part corroded, mind, bending someone to your will could be more effective that killing them. She didn't want to kill. In the ever-changing world, that was the only constant. Do not kill. If the infected killed the healthy, they were no better than the murderers on the streets hunting them down like green-eyed game. 

"Fine, I'll help you," Paul eventually said, his dominant demeanour replaced with a shaky tone, bitterness underlining every syllable,

Ruby straightened up and smirked down at him, "Excellent, you made the right choice," 

"But we won't be able to get in there alone. I know of an underground movement of infected that want to topple them," Paul continued after clearing his throat, his composure coming back, though with no indication that he was going to back stab Ruby, although, the same was true for Celeste... "If we can contact them, they might be our ticket inside,"

Ruby leaned against one of the moulding walls, arms crossed, thinking. She should have expected a resistance force, a group of revolutionaries. Their existence was both a benefit and a drawback. On the surface, they sounded like people Ruby would want nothing more than to get to know; like minded infected men and women that could protect each other and take the fight to the healthy. When she thought about it, however, Ruby knew nothing about this underground movement. How tight knit were they? How violent were they? Would they allow outsiders? Were they killers? 

She looked around the apartment again, scanning over all the blades and firearms and ammunition that was littered around. Paul probably knew more about them than he was letting on. He had the munitions to supply a small group of soldiers,

"You know of an underground movement? How much do you know?" Ruby quizzed, cocking her head to the side, with a look that dared Paul to lie,

Paul smirked and shook his head, a small chuckled escaping his lips, "You know you don't scare me, right?" He sneered, "'Sides, I know about as much as you do, which is everythin' I've told you,"

Ruby pushed herself away from the wall, walking a step forwards and leaning her arms on the back of the sofa, "Cut the shit. Do you think I'm stupid? You said you had contacts, how do I know that this underground movement isn't them?" She barked, glancing over to the window briefly, "Tell me what you know about this underground movement."

Paul obviously caught on to the bark as the command that it was, rather than a request. He knew as much about her as she knew about him, which wasn't a lot. She could have been ready to maniacally attack whoever she saw first. To him, she could be a frenzied psychopath, bent on revenge, that will kill or harm anyone that gets in her way. His expression hardened and he stood up, walking over to a cluttered table, all the while maintaining eye contact with the girl. 

Paul began rummaging through the contents of the table, rifling through papers, until he produced a single sheet of tattered notepaper. He held the yellowed scrap of paper out to Ruby, who took it with a strong air of sass, refusing to break eye contact until Paul looked away, which he did, with a sigh of annoyance.

The note paper was old, yellowed and thin. It felt as though it was disintegrate if Ruby handled it wrong. The ink on its surface was written with a calligraphy pen, the flowing characters staining the paper with their black ink. The words stood up from the page with their contrast, which somehow managed to make them hit harder,

The time of hiding in fear is almost over. On the eve of the next Drop, the ground will collapse beneath the feet of the Murdering Supremacists. They will fall lower than we fell. They will sustain worse injuries than we sustained. They will know pain like nothing else. 

- Nero

Ruby examined the note over and over, picking and unpicking every meaning, given and implied. 'The eve of the next Drop', that must be referring to the monthly airdrop of supplies that is sent into the centre of some major cities. Large crates, usually about three or four, dropped from a huge and low flying military aircraft. Ruby had seen it fly over a number of times, but heard it on days in which she could not spot it. It was the only constant that could be used to keep track of time reliably. 'the Murdering Supremacists', that was obviously referring to the healthy people inside the stronghold, that much was obvious. What Ruby couldn't put her finger on though, was what they meant by 'the ground will collapse' under their feet... Did they mean literally? 

The biggest question the note posed, however, was still left unanswered,

"When did you get this?" Ruby asked, eyes narrowed, head cocked again, 

Paul looked around from sharpening on of his knives, "I found here almos' a month ago, when I got here, it was sittin' on that sofa waitin' for me."

Ruby's heart raced. A month ago. 

"This underground movement, they are your contacts, aren't they?"

"Correct."

Ruby smirked, "Contact them then. Best make it sharp."