Black Cat (Z Nation fanfic)

Prologue

Like I said in the Author's Note, COPY THIS STORY AND I WILL CUT YOU DOWN AND DRAG YOU TO THE DEPTHS OF WRITER HELL.

Now, read and enjoy. Cheers.

{anonymeow}

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Being alone in an apocalypse can be a good thing. Being alone means you only have to feed yourself, protect yourself, worry about yourself. You won't have to think about the tears you will shed when a companion you were close to dies, turns into one of them, those snarling ugly undead creatures. When you're alone in this world overrun by zombies, you will only have to worry about you surviving.

But being alone has negative effects, as well.

There's nothing better than having someone by your side to comfort you when you're losing hope. Nothing better than have at least one living person to interact with and talk to.

And of course, nothing's better than to know that somebody's got your back no matter what.

I am alone, right now. I don't even know why the thoughts currently running through my head are deep as hell. Maybe I just need someone. Maybe I feel lonely.

...Or maybe because those damn lunatic idiots threw me out of the already-beat-up vehicle I was driving in. Goddamn those people...

Alright, allow me to explain.

Several minutes ago when I was still in a vehicle I found for myself not so long ago, a couple of guys thought it'd be smart to pretend to be zombies. Thinking that they actually were turned, and since the vehicle I took was on the verge of breaking down, I decided to give them mercy the manual way. Unfortunately, they weren't zombies.

And so as they drove off with my car, I was left standing there and muttering profanities.

So now I am walking alone, noticeable by zombies, with a couple of throwing knives, a cane sword, and a knife in my arsenal. Remembering that incident, I scowled and walked further, my eyes scanning my surroundings for zombies. There were none.

Well, that's amazing. No zombies, silence, serenity. It feels like I was simply off for a walk. It made me remember my friends, family, neighbors...

I gripped the straps of my knapsack and my frown deepened.

It was then that I heard the soft rumble of a vehicle engine that sounds similar to the rumble of the car the numbskulls stole from me.

"Is that a Z or what?" said a voice. It rang out from behind me, not quite close enough yet...

As the rumble started to sound ever so closer, I froze, and in a swift and fluid motion, I spun around and positioned the end of my cane sword—still sheathed and all—roughly by the side of a guy's head, looking as though I intended to hit it really hard. Although I hit him nevertheless, it was better than getting hit with the full force of this cane.

"You're here to steal my stuff again?" I hissed. An old man who sat beside the guy whose temple is pressed hard against my cane held up his hands in a gesture of peace or 'calm-the-fuck-down'. Almost everyone, with the exception of the old man and his seatmate, got out of my car and trained their guns on me.

"Woah, woah, woah, chill out. We've never stolen from you." The old man told me.

I cocked an eyebrow, looking at the faces of every one. None of them looked like the men who took my car, even though it is in their possession. "Where did you get your vehicle?" I asked, turning to a middle-aged woman I picked at random.

A woman narrowed her eyes and replied, "A group took our truck and left this."

I nodded slowly and pursed my lips, scrutinizing them, contemplating whether or not should I lower my cane. 'Can I trust you' seems like a dumb question, but I said it nevertheless.

"Can I... trust you?"

There was a pause before a sickly-looking man who remained inside the car exclaimed, "Hey, what's with the holdup? Just get back in the car and leave her already!"

A man who was of the same age as the woman I earlier questioned briefly glanced at the man and looked back at me. "Shut up, Murphy." He told him. There was another pause before the man now addressed me. "You can trust us... if we can trust you."

I tightened my grip upon the handle of my cane... and slowly lowered it, silently hoping that none of them will shoot once my weapon was completely lowered. Much to my relief, they lowered their guns, as well, and the guy whose head I threatened to bash with a cane visibly relaxed.

"You alone?" The man who had essentially told me they can be trusted asked. I nodded.

"And that's the only weapon you got?" The old man looked at my elegant-looking cane sword as though it seemed out of place for a zombie apocalypse.

I shook my head, taking out my throwing knives and revealing it to them. If they will actually trust me, I better give them a reason to, I suppose. And by that I mean telling them that I meant no harm and that I don't intend to in the future. "I have these too. I can survive."

"Not when there're lots of Zs coming at you." He stood from where he sat, which is the broken front of the car. "Say, why don't you come with us?"

I lifted a finger to protest when the man—the one who chastised the sickly man, Murphy—cut in, "We can't just leave you here, so you're coming no matter what."

The old man headed to the back of the vehicle, where Murphy and a woman sat, and squeezed himself in, which left me with an empty space beside the guy I threatened with a cane. He looked no older than I am.

I sat beside him, awkwardly, hugging my knapsack to my chest and positioning my cane between us. The car softly hummed to life and we began to progress forward, albeit a little slowly.

"...I'm sorry," I told the guy. "For threatening you with a cane, I mean."

"It's all right." He replied quietly.

A smile tugged at my lips as I recalled the photo I saw about expressing forgiveness. "By 'it's all right,' do you mean I can do it again?" I chuckled as a hint of a startled expression briefly crossed his face. Before he could reply, I turned to him and stuck out my hand. "I'm Sable Odalys. I'd prefer you call me Sable. You are?"

He turned to me as well and awkwardly shook my hand. "I'm Ten Thousand."

My lips parted and my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Ten - ?"

"It's the number of Zs I'm going to kill."

I let go of his hand. "I see. What are you going to do once you reach ten thousand?"

He turned away, looking at the dull horizon up ahead. "I'm going to change it to Jeff. I like the name Jeff."

I smiled, a smile I never did during the time I traveled alone. "Is that so?" I mused, "You're an interesting person, 10K..." There was a moment's pause before I spoke again.

"Jeff, huh?" I continued, "I like that name too."