ContamiNation

(Chapter 38) Shopping... Violently

(Unedited)

Sharp/Carris

"Up and at 'em! Up and at 'em!" Mercy said, clapping next to my ear. "Get up lazy butt, you have work to do."

I groaned and flipped over, trying to fall asleep. Reaching for another pillow to slam over my head, Mercy grabbed the one I was lying on and gave a sharp tug. My head smacked on the floor, only cushioned by a thin blanket I'd placed down earlier.

I cracked open an eye. "Is it day yet?"

"No, but you need to get up. The swarm is thinning and you still need the practice. Anyways, night is the best hunting time so, up, up, up," she said extra cheery.

After no response from me she threatened to burn down the Rogers Centre with everyone in it. I almost didn't respond to that either. Only when I realized that normal people usually care about life—especially the lives of their friends—did I finally sit up. Then I slammed back down again.

"You know that when your supposed to get up that means get up and stay up, right? Not get up and go back down again."

"My head is spinning, just give me a second." I pushed myself up again, slower this time, letting my body adjust to being upright.

She walked over and put a hand on my forehead. "You're fine." I slapped it away and she just glared at me. "Did you eat anything?"

"I think I had a can of something..."

"That's it. Get the hell up. You're coming hunting with me and were going to eat on the way. If you want food, you're going to fight for it." She threw more clothes at me before I could respond.

They were black. Flexible leather pants with a fuzzy, warm inside; a black long sleeve, tight t-shirt; a dark grey sweater and my leather jacket. I frowned at the pile. "What's with—" I started, but Mercy cut me off.

"It was all I could find that was thick enough that'd fit you. Nothing can bite through that, and you have a really weird emotional connection to that jacket." She shrugged. I smiled. "So come on."

I fixed up my leg's bandages, and tested the muscles—sore but I could probably run and walk like a normal person now. The cut was nothing. Didn't even feel the tightness of the skin healing, though it was likely to break open and bleed anew before Mercy and I were done the "hunt."

Decked out in the new outfit and no backpack on my shoulders, I felt light as a bird and as strong and fast as a ninja. I strapped Phil's knife—my Knife—to my leg with the holster, and walked out after Mercy; into the dark of the stairwell.

I felt like a badass. In the dark, decked in black, soundless—almost—in the dark. Mercy was actually walking a little heavier for the first time, probably for my benefit. She could see better than me in the dark, and the sound of her steps helped me know where the landings were so I didn't trip. It was good practice for me; being silent, knowing my way in the dark.

I was still internally praising myself when I walked into Mercy's back. My face heated with shame and I hoped that, that was one thing she couldn't see in the dark.

The door creaked open and I felt the lobby air flood into the stairwell. I walked through, Mercy behind me, and noticed I could see everything in the lobby. My eyes got used to pure darkness that when I walked onto this floor—which was ever so slightly lighter—I could see pretty well.

Mercy gave a hand motion and I followed it. During the day, when she'd come in for a short while, she'd go over the silent motions. Talking without making a sound. We were going to fight, but on Mercy's terms not the zombies'.