Battle of Ash

Chapter 25

"The last to fall were the buildings, distant and solemn,
the gravestones for an entire world."
Dan Wells

2018.03.16 12:45
Spring had arrived. Trees were sprouting leaves and little flower buds, the grass was coming in a light, fresh green, and baby animal corpses were littered nearly everywhere in the forest Ash had been tromping through ever since she had arrived in Saint Louis.

For some reason Dillon had convinced her that travelling there would have some sort of answers, but a quick stop in the actual city and it was just another waste land of infected and dead things. Buildings were in disrepair, though they were standing up to the test of time far better than anything else; cars had rusted, animals had either starved, reproduced like mad, or been fodder for the infected and survivors. The sturdier buildings had withstood far more than originally assumed. Despite thieves, a general lack of decorum, and the infestation of cats, mice, bugs and the like, they were still solidly built. Good for shelter if there weren't too many infected, or rotting things either. Bodies, even when left in the elements, still took a while to decay. Particularly if they were rather fresh.

She had set up camp in a quaint little one bedroom off the beaten road a ways. It was on a slight hill which gave her a bit of an advantage. She had felt a twinge of guilt when she had killed the granny that had owned the place, but it had been a long time since the woman had been human. Still, wandering the halls and seeing the pictures of children growing up, of grandchildren visiting- it tugged at Ash's heart a little. A lot. She was so tired of the killing, so tired of fighting every day. From sun up to sun set it was the same struggle; fight to survive, survive to fight. The cravings for the food of the past had ebbed, but very now and again the hunger for a milkshake or nacho supreme rocked through her like an earthquake.

Even with a steady diet of game and vegetables her body craved the fatty food she had become used to in her old life- the textures, the flavors. She sighed, looking up to the sky as she neared her last trap. The area around her base had been nearly cleared out- a few infected lingered or wandered in every now and again, but it was nothing she couldn't handle. Well, a couple had been; gruesome long nails, the ability to see better in the dark, and an acidic like spittle had confirmed that the parasites were now merging to create a sort of super-infected. Even in those who had contracted the parasite long before were showing signs of hyper-evolution. Thicker skin, different defense mechanisms, new ways of infection. Some would become so bloated with spores that their bodies would literally swell with boils between the skin and fatty layers, only to have the boils explode when they sensed their target nearby. A stress response perhaps. It was gruesome; spores and puss and infection flying into the air. Ash had never seen enough people in one area to know how many an attack like that could infect at once- truthfully she'd rather not know the exact numbers.

She crouch in the dirt, examining the tracks in the soft, spring soil. Nothing.

She bit off a tight curse, her voice sounded dusty and hollow from lack of use, and turned back to her sanctuary.

"Three rabbits." Dillon sighed, "That won't do you much good in the long haul."

She growled her response, her eyes roving about the area around her as she approached the peeling brown house. It had been beautiful once, quaint and nearly perfect. But that was in a different world, long ago. The white picket fence was now in shambles, resurrected in some unholy combination of faded boards, stained corrugated metal sheets and razor wire. The house had been boarded up minus two windows and a door, black trash bags were neatly pinned against the wood enforcements to reduce noise when the wind picked up.