Remember Me (PewDieCry Fanfic 3)

Solitary

I watched the animal fall as the shot rang dangerously loud. There aren't many wild dogs and I don't like using guns because it attracts Their attention but I haven't eaten in two days since my supplies run out which reminds me that I need to double back to the base. Only problem is I'm halfway across the country.
I made my way silently to the whimpering german shepard. It had survived because it was strong and could kill zombies. I wish I could have kept him. He could have helped. Nonetheless I need to eat so I mechanically kneeled down and slit his throat.
I quickly scooped the beast up onto my shoulders. Despite a random diet of whatever I can find I have gained a lot of muscle by living in the zombie apocalypse for two years. I guess a lot had changed. Not just physically.
Being a transgender hunter in the apocalypse is difficult.
Especially when you hunt alone.
There are advantages; you keep all the food. You can move at your own pace. You don't get attached. But there are also disadvantages; no look out. No one to watch your back or share good from a hunt. And loneliness.
I'd rather deal with loneliness than losing a friend again.
I've lost too many.
I banished the depressing thoughts from my mind and jogged back to where I had made camp. I liked apartment buildings because I could get higher up and see them coming but I equally hate stairs.
On the bright side I was a lot fitter.
I had my axe at the ready as I made my way back through the city.
I was almost there and about to celebrate not encountering any Snappies a.k.a. Zombies.
I rounded the last block and was about to cross the street to the decrepit building when someone grabbed my foot.
I dropped the carcass in surprise and swung my axe down on instinct.
The head flew across the street and covered my leg in bloody spray. I kicked the limp arm off me. They creep me out beyond belief and the smell is terrible. It fills the warmer cities with the stench of rotting human flesh and decay. Half of them can't even walk anymore and just crawl or wait for food to come to them. That one was a crawler.
I picked up the dog again which smelt remarkably less bad and entered the building.
The ground level still stunk of the Snappies I killed when I arrived here but most of my camps did.
I need to head back to base.
I dragged the wolf sized dog up the stairs to my chosen room and decided to start preparing my first meal in hours.
I hated killing animals and for so long I would refuse and refuse but that kind of hunger changes you. The instinct to survive overcomes compassion.
I skinned cut the animal up into sections and wrapped them in aluminium foil.
I started the fire with the wood I had collected yesterday. Ironic since I didn't even eat yesterday.
Long ago everywhere had been raided. Everywhere. There's no candy or anything anymore. There are still cans of preserved food to be found at different bases and camps if you were brave enough to raid another hunters stash. That's the risk of lighting fires. The zombies might come but the hunters might too and conscious people are harder to kill. Mentally and physically.
Nonetheless I need to eat so I lit that bitch up and lay the aluminium bundles on it.
There is some weird respect between hunters though. Water bottles are left everywhere because clean water is a necessity. For example if a vending machine is raided all he candy will be gone but they will leave most of the water bottles so when people pass through they can take a few more and so on.
I'd found two bottles when I got here.
There was a massive supply at the base which is another reason I need to get back. Kansas is too far away but I need space sometimes.
Sometimes it's nice to be out here by yourself and not have to worry about a lot of people.
But I need to return and there's no way Karree will let me return empty handed so I need to find more supplies. Weapons or food or water or clothes or anything.
I have a bag full of children's toys and clothing and some precious ammunition.
Not much but enough. I also had a bag of tampons and pads because I know we were running low and they are something we definitely need. I'd rather be in dirty clothes with them than in clean clothes without to be perfectly honest. I knew Karree wouldn't get mad at me if I brought that back.
Once I returned with nothing. I had an empty water bottle and a stab wound and hunters had taken all of my supplies and she nearly shot me herself she was so mad.
When the meat was mostly cooked but still too raw too eat I took two thirds of it off and put it in a bag. I would need to heat it up later to keep it fresh and it's no good if it's already fully cooked.
I let the remainder cook and dug in. I don't really like dog meat but I don't have a choice. The dog was skinny too so it didn't even give much meat.
I was done in two minutes and trod out the fire.
It was only midday and I didn't want hunters to track me so I packed up and left. A few bags on my back and an axe in my arm I jogged through Wichita city.
I need to get to Nevada and it's not that far away. I've gotten there from New York twice.
I'll never return to that city.
Burning the body of your lover is one thing but burning the body of their daughter is another. To make it worse it was my fault they died.
He meant to shoot me and then he wouldn't have shot himself. She would have been cured and he would have been happy but I fucked up and nearly killed her.
He meant to shoot me.
No, I would not return to NYC.
It plagued my every step and I had simply learned to live with the pain. Someone told me it was a good thing, that the amount of pain I felt at losing them was the equivalent amount of love I felt for them when I had them.
Well I must have loved them more than anything because this hurts more than anything.
I started running to preoccupy myself. Running was good for me and it relaxed me. I was faster than the rotting Snappies and it cleared my head.
Only problem was it burnt up my energy.
I ran for a few hours until I was going to use up too much water so I stopped to rest and continued walking.
I had some more meat which was cooking in the heat anyway.
Zombies still had to eat so they would go at anything that moved and could follow scent.
There's not much I can do about that except decapitate them when they come at me.
I don't even feel it now. It's like they're not human.
Once we found the cure we had hope and people went and found their families and friends but we soon realised that most of them died anyway. They had been decaying for months. I lived in Florida. I didn't even look for my parents. There was no chance in that heat that they were salvageable.
What I don't understand is how Tayla was conscious but not.
I know Dr Vierdenig was doing tests on her. He told us he wasn't but he was and I suspect that he half made a cute because she was talking when she saw us but for some reason wanted to rip my throat out.
Specifically me.
The look in her completely white eyes haunts me.
The cure saved a couple of people but we just lost more people by trying to cure them. It was cruel.
To wake up and find most of your organs are rotted and you get to die painfully now as your son smiles down at you just happy you can feel.
I think it's cruel.
So I stick to slaying unless someone looks okay.
No one has looked okay.
Maybe in New York. People in Alaska are probably fine and we can cure them but getting there is hard and I don't have personal motivation.
I know a brother and sister left base for Alaska to save their parents. I didn't think they would make it and it's been over five months so they probably didn't.
It was getting dark so I ducked into the closest building and barricaded the doors. I then raided it but it looked like it had been raised many times before and there was nothing left.
Even the cistern in the toilet was empty of clean water.
That's a place I've learned to look for water.
I sighed and lay down my sleeping bag and struggled to fall asleep.
But every night the last thing I think about is the look on Felix's face when he told me it was my fault.
It was pure hatred.
It was burnt into my eyelids and it made me want to cry myself to sleep.
I held it together enough to slip into fitful but tearless sleep.
The morning sun burned through the curtain less windows of the retail store and I groaned as I sat up.
I got my stuff and started walking again.
After I had some food the sun started to get really hot. I was vaguely aware that it was summer and that I should be at the beach with my sister but I didn't think about that.
The beach was always literally crawling with zombies.
Something shined in the distance and I recognised the glare as a car.
It was in the middle of the road.
I looked around for any signs of hunters. They pull traps like this.
There was no one around but I held my axe at the ready as I approached the car.
There were two zombies in the car.
One in the backseat which was very old and looked like it didn't have legs. And one in the front that was fresh. Like yesterday fresh.
I shot the one in the backseat and raised my arms to kill he fresh one but I stopped when I remembered I could cure him. He had been bitten on the shoulder but it wasn't bad. I shoved the needle in his other shoulder and held his face away from me with the axe handle. Making sure not to get spit on it. His body sagged as everything stopped and then he lurched forward with a deep breath as his heart started beating again.
"Oh my god," he clutched his chest.
"Yeah you're awake how amazing," I rolled my eyes. They all said the same thing when they were cured.
"I'm awake!" He said happily.
"How fantastic," I said sarcastically and aimed the gun at his head.
"Now how do you have a working car?" I pressed the cold metal of the barrel to his forehead.
"How?" I repeated sternly. His expression was grim and I saw him reaching for a weapon. I cocked the pistol and he froze.
"Okay okay, I'm - I'm part of a base," I rolled my eyes again.
"No shit. Give me real answers before I put a bullet through your fresh skull," I had no time for other hunters. It's why I like hunting alone.
"Where is your base? Who is in it? What supplies do you have?" I paused, "are you willing to die for it?" I dug the gun into his temple and saw him gulp.
"Speak," my patience was running short and I hadn't spoken a word in weeks to anyone so my voice was gravelly as I snapped at him.
"Uh, Karen's base," he hung his head in shame.
"Karen? Who's Karen? Where's your base? How big is it? What supplies do you have?" I asked again.
"Uh, she's our leader. Our base is in Texas, it's pretty big, too big for you to-"
"I don't care. Continue," I prompted but my heart was sinking. I knew a Karen and I assumed her husband died at a huge base in Texas. I hope it's not her. She almost killed Felix. She's crazy.
"Uh we have heaps of supplies, it's like the before," his eyes widened in amazement at just thinking about it.
One of these freaks who thinks the apocalypse can end.
"Okay what's your name?" I asked.
"J-john," I rolled my eyes. What a boring ass name.
"What's yours?" He asked, offended.
"Cry," I told him even though I didn't need to. He shrugged.
"You're coming with me," I decided and trained the gun on him as I opened the door and forced him to slide over as I took the wheel.
"Why don't you tell me how you got a car, gas and a zombie in the backseat?" I tried to make conversation but I hadn't really talked to anyone since I lost Felix.
"The car is from the base. We have heaps of cars and buses. We even have a tank!" He gushed.
"You have a tank?" I was astonished. That was something we could use.
"Oh yeah we have a couple actually. And some planes! We just don't have a pilot..." He said and I smiled.
"What?" He asked.
"We do," I told him but then my hopes faltered. I hate Peter.
"You do? Oh wow that-"
"Amazing and useful I know," I rolled my eyes. This is why I don't travel with people.
"So you have a cure and we have tanks and planes, we can wi-"
"No we can't win," I continued to interrupt him. "We just can't. It's too late. The only way to live is to outlive these bastards," I told him.
"But you cured me. Why can't we cure them?" He asked.
"Because you were fresh. See that bite on your shoulder? Not a deadly wound. If we bring someone back with a. Slit throat how long do you think they'll live? A minute? Probably less," his grim expression told me he realised what we did long ago.
"So what's with the zombie?" I asked and pointed at the body.
"Oh john, we'd been attacked and he's been wounded so I was bringing him back," he said.
"You were driving around with a bit?" I can't handle this stupid.
"I didn't think he was bit okay? He's my brother," he looked at his hands in his lap.
"I'm sorry for your loss," I wasn't really. I've lost more than my sister.
"Yeah well I'm sorry for yours," his statement took me by surprise.
"Wh-"
"I can tell you've lost a lot. A partner? A child? Your parents," he asked.
"All of the above," I tried to laugh but it came out as my voice cracking.
"I'm sorry," he repeated.
"That's why this'll never end," I said after a minute. "We can eradicate the zombies and the virus and we can attempt a miniature society but we will never erase the suffering. The massive scar on humanity. The loss and the pain will affect every generation and we can't eradicate that," I said.
He nodded and we drove in silence for hours until night fell and I just kept driving.
"Well need gas soon," he pointed out. I had been ignoring the meter deliberately.
"I have some in the back," he said.
"Get it," I told him and he clambered back and over the chairs.
This was when I made my first mistake.
I was in an actual car for the first time in almost two years and diving back to the base with information and supplies and there were tanks and planes and we had a pilot and I was just getting excited. The last time I was excited was when we got the cure a minute before we lost most of our friends. I can still see the look in Tuesday's eyes when she sacrificed herself for a girl she didn't even know.
It haunts me like the sight of her dead boyfriend and the sight of mine.
Then I heard John scream.