Chapter Text
It was near noon in Atlanta, the sun so bright, and the air stunk of corpses. Clouds tumbled in slow motion; you couldn’t help but admire them in their full glory. They were the only things you could admire, really, in your current state. Noon had quickly become your least favorite time of day, with the sun beating into your slack jaw, drying your mouth, and heating your skin uncomfortably. The sound of groans and ragged breathing was anything but peaceful, not with the symphony of bustling streets long gone.
You were with a crowd of others like you on hot asphalt, stumbling along with no particular goal. The name tag hung from your neck swung to the rhythm of your steps and smacked your chest, repeating. Your aching body, daring to complain despite no longer being quite yours, was a task to control, the mobility never recovering after your fever broke. Before, you graciously awaited for it to leave, but now, you wish it never did. The hallucinations at least kept you company, gave you interesting things to see, and the pain was a fair trade. Unlike some that you had studied, albeit briefly, you didn’t pass out.
Not once.
The crowd was approaching a military tank, dirt and blood smeared on the surface. A sight like that was not a new one; you would scoff and roll your eyes if you could. You made a pathetic attempt, but it was nothing more than moving your eyes towards the opposite side of the street. That was too far, you struggled to get them back into proper place so greatly that you almost missed a brown smudge galloping towards you. Wait.
A horse reared yards ahead of you, grabbing the attention of your comrades. It proved to be a fatal mistake not only for the animal, but for its rider as well. In what couldn’t have been more than a second, the group turned carnal; a nasty mess of drooling, screeching, and rushing bodies towards a common goal– flesh. Whether it was the meat of the animal or the rider, it didn’t matter, only the satisfaction of the demon who controlled the infected, who controlled you.
It tried to run, it tried to fight, but it was all in vain as the crowd tore into it at once, and the pained screams of the horse soon bled out of its mangled body. The infected devoured them with as much vigor as the rest of its corpse, choking on the bloody remains as much as they were dropping them. With every fallen piece, it seemed another dove in to grab it, as no amount was enough for them. However, you came to realize, they were only ripping into a singular body. The rider took advantage of the distraction, and ran with one hand on his pistol into the tank, shooting whatever was in his way.
You were smart enough to simply watch from a distance, never in danger of being a target. It was the most interesting thing to have happened since you dragged yourself out of your workplace; you never knew that there were those who never caught the fever, here in this city. It was possible that the rider came from outside of it, but why would this person come here, possibly one of the hardest hit areas? He was either very brave, or just stupid. You were personally leaning towards the latter.
The man could not stay in the tank forever, alas. From the looks of it, he only came in with one gun, a small amount of supplies, and a hat. He was ill-prepared for taking on this place, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he only had a limited amount of ammo left either. The infected would find their way in, he would die a prolonged, starved death, or he would get caught while fighting his way out. Your hopes for this rider were starting to dim, and fast.
That was, until you saw his head pop out of the top, moments later. One of your comrades tried biting his forehead– you could see it from here – and he smacked it with the side of his gun as payback. He continued pulling himself up, sliding down the dirty metal while hands clawed at his body, sprinting down the sidewalk as infected tried to intervene. He used one bullet, and then another, but then you saw a pale, waving hand from an alley. The rider ran to it like it was his only lifeline, and in a way, it was. You had underestimated this man; he had come with backup. Perhaps he was more fit to survive this epidemic than your first impression of him was, after all.
And maybe, you hoped to see him again. Was that selfish? The thought of seeing another human being, so alive and belligerent, felt special. You waited again, for hours, in those thoughts.
The sun was slowly bending in the sky, not quite hitting the horizon, when your wish came true.