Run. (Team Crafted Fanfiction)

Chapter 16- Be the Zombie

Mitch's POV

Olivia leads the way downstairs, moving comfortably through the house. She leads me into the kitchen, and settles herself at the large table. She digs through a small knapsack laying on it, drawing out some cans of food.

"How long have you been in this house? You seem to know you're way around." I say quietly.

She looks up at me and grins. "About a day after this all started. I used to live farther east, but I left. Too many zombies."

I smile and sit next to her. She slides me a can of cold ravioli, and I pry it open with my knife. I then do the same to her can, and we dig in.

She makes a face. "Ugh. I think I prefer hot food. Been living on this for a while, and I still can't get used to it."

I laugh. It feels good to just laugh and be happy for once. Haven't laughed like that since YouTube. "Maybe we should find some more food. We won't be able to live on cold ravioli forever."

She nods. "You don't have any food? How'd you make it so far?"

"Uuuuuuh, I had a car and stale pizza."

She laughs. She has a strange laugh. She throws her head back and her whole body heaves. Gosh, I didn't think I was that funny.

Finally, she calms down and I smile weakly. "Didn't think I was that funny."

She winks at me, and gets up. "Maybe you're not. Maybe I'm just desperate to be happy." She walks back into the living room.

I follow her, leaving our empty cans on the table. She kneels by the fireplace, throwing dirt onto it. It quickly smothers the fire. She stands up and faces me, her knapsack slung over her shoulders. "So, where are we going?"

I shift my weight and frown. "Ummm, I was trying to find the rest of the team. I think they left LA. I just don't know where to find them."

She thinks for a moment, her face screwed up in concentration. "Doesn't Adam live in Seattle? We could head up there."

I nod. "Alright, but I hope you're up for some serious exercise. We have a long walk."

She nods, serious, and makes her way to the door. Flinging it open, she steps outside. I step out and start to shiver. However, I force myself to stop. I point to the north. "Seattle should be that way, I think. Lets go."

I step into the road and start the long walk, mentally planning out route. It'd probably be best to stay on the road so we wouldn't get lost, but they'll be clogged with cars. Even here, in this tiny suburb, we have to navigate through cars. Some of them still have people in them. I gag and force myself to look away, but the image stays. A mangled body, a ripped up face. Blood dripping down it, staining the interior.

"Olivia," I mutter, "don't look into the cars."

She looks at me confusedly for a moment, but finally translates my repulsed expression. She nods.

We weave in and out of cars, pushing doors close and climbing over a few. We were back on the highway, and the cars were thickening. Up ahead, several zombies moan and limp around. Cursing, I grab Olivia and pull her behind the nearest car. We crouch behind it, listening to the moans. I pull my shirt up over my mouth and gestured for her to do the same. I had already learned that spores could infect you as easily as bites could, but spores were much easier to get in cantact with.

She pulls her shirt up over her mouth and nose, and I nod. Ok. What next. I had learned about the zombies in my time of running away. Some zombies identified by sound. Others could see you. And then there were the ones that could smell you. Biting my lip, I realize what I had to do. Olivia stares at me, wide-eyes as I pull out my knife and cut a long gash down my arm. I rub my arm against the car, and already here some of the zombies move toward us. Fresh blood.

I pull Olivia up and slowly start making my way towards a large group of zombies. I keep one of my legs limp, and slowly drag myself towards them. Olivia does the same behind me. We get closer, but none of the zombies react. To them, we appear to be just more zombies. Inch by inch, we limp by zombie after zombie. A few turn and sniff in our direction, but I just wipe some more blood onto a car and wrap up the wound with my sleeve as best as I can. Not the best plan, but it's working.

One hour goes by, and then two. The sun starts to sink towards the horizon, but I keep limping forward. Olivia limps a few cars away, as we were separated by a large group and did not want to go through them. I spy a large truck a little ways down the road, and gesture slightly at it. Olivia doesn't respond in anyway, but I think she understood. She shifts her body slightly so she now moves at an angle.

After a few minutes, we meet at the large doors of the tractor trailer, the kind that carries a ton of boxes. I open one of the doors as quietly as possible, and Olivia crawls in. I climb in after her and pull the door closed behind me. She collapses on one of the boxes scattered around, and I join her.

"That was insane, but brilliant. How many zombies do you think we passed?"

I shrug. "At least 200, I'd say."

She looks up. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

"Taught myself. Learned a few things about the zombies on my own."

She looks down. "I've been alone and haven't figured out stuff like that. What was the whole blood thing about? Is your arm ok?"

I peel back my sleeve and sigh. "Not really." Blood stains my sleeve and my arm, and still leaks from the wound. I pull out my first-aid kit and start wrapping it in gauze. "Some of them can smell people. The scent of fresh blood distracted them."

"Wouldn't they have smelled it on your arm?"

"Yeah, but they thought I was a zombies. Plus, I probably already have dried blood on my jacket from another zombie."

She nods. "I'm glad it's you who found me, Mitch. Or I would probably be dead right now."

With that, she curls up on some of the boxes and closes her eyes.