Life Inside the Dead Zone

Chapter 2: Advance Recon

Chapter 2

Advance Recon

A week later, Ivy and I load up our bounty for the week, consisting of two mountain goats, some birds and a deer, all of which we've prepared for transport by salting it thoroughly. Boomer barks at us, eager for a treat. Ivy smiles and tosses him a bit of goat intestine that she was snacking on. The others are sometimes picky about what they eat, but Ivy and I really can't afford to be. Even though starvation isn't a real threat for us, if we don't get sufficient nourishment, then our bodies do atrophy. More importantly, our minds begin to wander and succumb to the Hunger. If either Ivy or I are put out of commission because of a weakened body or wandering mind, then the others will suffer from the Hunger as well.

I raise a drinking skin to my lips and swallow a mouthful of goat blood. It's salty and not terribly appealing to my taste buds, but it staves off the Hunger for a while, so I keep drinking. My body demands more but I pull the skin away from my mouth and put it away. I've burst more than my fair share of stomachs in the past and it is not an experience I would like to repeat.

"You think Three is going to give us a hard time for not bringing back buffalo?" Ivy asks. Boomer sits at her feet, staring up at her, waiting for her to give him another treat. "No, Boomer," she says. He keeps waiting, as though he knows she's going to give in and give him more. Part of me wonders if the disease made him smarter. He obeys spoken orders easily and seems to understand hand gestures. He also has an uncanny ability to know when someone's resolve is weak. He's also able to keep his own hunger under control, as though he himself is actively resisting the urge to spread the disease.

"I don't think so," I say. "I think he knows that we can't afford to put ourselves at risk like that." And we really can't. Sure, the potential payoff is big. However, with big payoffs come big risks. I know from firsthand experience that buffalo can be unpredictable and their large size makes them dangerous to us. We were hunting once and, all of a sudden, a buffalo decided to attack us. Ivy was able to climb a tree fast enough to avoid it but I wasn't so lucky. By the time the beast was done, my legs were beyond saving and its horns had ripped open a massive hole in my stomach, ripping up my digestive tract. It took the better part of three months to fully recover from the damage, especially because I couldn't eat much until my organs had mended themselves enough to be functional.

"I guess," she says. "It would be nice, though." Then, she frowns. "Did you get an eye for Nine?"

"Not yet," I say. "We haven't seen that many Roamers on this trip, have we?"

"I guess not," she says, loading another cooler. Boomer scoots closer to her and headbutts her knee. She relents and gives him another bit of intestine. "Nine's gonna be mad if we don't bring her back an eye."

"I know, I know," I say. "We'll grab one on the way down. Think we should start bringing Roamers up here?"

"What purpose would that serve?" she asks.

"We know that the disease mutates over time," I say. "That it causes mutations in Roamers. I think it might be possible that these mutations occur in response to environmental stimuli."

"So, if I'm hearing you right, you think that there is something here that causes the virus to mutate in such a way as to improve eyesight? What makes you think so?"

I shrug. "Think about it. When I lost my eyes, I was blind for a long time. My other senses improved to compensate. Now, I don't need my eyes to see."

Ivy considers this. "That's right. You can close your eyes and use some sort of echolocation, right?"

"Something like that," I say. "It's more like I can feel things. It's hard to describe, but its like all my other senses work together to feed as much information into my brain."