Once the truck rolled to a stop and became just another roadside ornament, everyone began grabbing their backpacks. Other than three bags of food and water, we were traveling lightly. I put the bag with the water bottles by my feet since it was the heaviest.
Liz came over and looked up at me almost expectantly. With a faint sigh, I once more picked up the child and put her on my shoulders.
She squealed in excitement. "Giddy up, horsie!"
I growled lightly at her. I was way better than a horse...
She lightly kicked me with her heels. "Horsies don't growl. They go neigh!"
Nicky started snickering, and I sent a glare her way. Hank ignored us, immediately heading for the nearby tree line like we had traveled previously. I grabbed the bag of water and trailed behind.
The group shuffled a bit until Daniel was in the lead while I followed as the rear guard. Walking had one perk: I was able to put more space between myself and Daniel, which eased the tension somewhat.
The forest air was still a bit brisk, so the humans shouldn't sweat or overheat too badly today. Our walk was steady and not so slow that I wanted to lean against a tree and glare at someone.
However, it wasn't long before I was ready to strangle Ben – he seemed to think his gas was the equivalent of propulsion power. Being so far ahead, he didn't notice the glares I leveled at his back.
Nicky swatted his arm. "If we could bottle the stuff that keeps escaping your ass, we'd be halfway to the moon by now. But we can't – so cut it out or walk on the road. You smell so bad that any zombie would think you're already dead."
Her complaint didn't help cut down on the number of escapees. I made a mental note to subtly check all the bags and hide any cans of beans that may be present.
"Any idea how close we are to the next town?" Ben asked Nina.
"I'm not sure. Do you still have that map?"
Everyone stopped for a break as Ben came to fetch the map from me. I passed it to him, and as he walked away, a high-pitched pfft made me growl. Ben picked up his pace as he made a hasty retreat.
Nicky muttered, "It's days like this that make me glad farting isn't as contagious as yawning."
I completely agreed with her. If this entire group all developed this sort of flatulence, I was leaving and picking whatever direction happened to be upwind.
As Ben passed by Nicky, another rear-end raspberry made her exclaim, "That's it! Who has a cork?" She paused. "No, wait. That's a bad idea – it might turn into a projectile. And who knows where that thing will end up. There's no way I'll be able to keep a straight face if we find a Stronghold and learn that a cow was killed by a flying cork."
A snort of laughter escaped me as I shook my head and moved to the side where the air was clearer. A gentle breeze came from behind me, bringing fresh air with it. I inhaled it gratefully, noting that there were some deer nearby, along with a couple of rabbits and some pheasants.
I hadn't hunted last night, so the smaller creatures were tempting. I might have to take a break of my own the next time the humans needed a rest.
My Nightstalker instincts shifted slightly as I caught the faintest hint of a scent. I raised my head to sniff the air, but even after half a dozen deep breaths, I wasn't able to detect it again. Whatever it had been. Perhaps I imagined the faint scent, or maybe it was several weak scents overlapping into something unfamiliar. It wouldn't be the first time such a thing happened.
Ben, Hank, and Nina gave up trying to figure out exactly where we were along the road, and Hank brought the nearly useless map back to me.
"I'll be right back," Ben said as he retreated deeper into the forest.
The wait took more than several minutes, and my only hope was that Ben had cured the cause of his gas. When he finally returned, we continued walking.
I kept a close eye on the surrounding trees, frequently checking behind us while listening for anything out of place. Everything seemed normal, but a nagging sensation remained, like an itch I couldn't scratch.
After a while, Nicky dropped back to walk beside me. "Why are you looking around so much?"
The others glanced back at me as we kept walking. I frowned, more from faint unease than from irritation.
"Something is triggering my instincts slightly, but I'm not sure what," I said. Without raising my voice, I asked Daniel, "Are you picking anything up?"
Coming to a stop, he sniffed the air and tilted his head as if listening. Several seconds later, he shook his head. "Nothing seems out of place that I can find."
The worst part was that I couldn't pinpoint anything unusual either. No odd scents, no weird noises, nothing. Great, now I'm jumping at shadows. For all I know, I imagined that whiff of smell, which is likely since I couldn't pick it up a second time. Besides, Daniel would hear anything approaching long before it reached us.
When I didn't say anything, we resumed walking although my mind kept circling around the scent relentlessly. I just couldn't put my finger on why that scent had seemed familiar, as if I should have known what it was. I couldn't shake the feeling, and my instincts remained on edge.
Fifteen minutes later, our companions required a more substantial rest. They sat down on a fallen log at the edge of a clearing while I walked toward the underbrush, intending to go out of hearing range to do a bit of hunting. I could smell some pheasants back the way we came. Perhaps the blood would help me settle down.
I took a deeper breath to check how close they were and froze as I caught the faint scent again, only it was much stronger this time. I also knew why I felt like I should have known what that scent belonged to.
Of all the rotten luck... I dropped into a slight crouch and gave a warning growl to the others as I backed closer to them, facing the direction that the danger was approaching from.
Daniel's footsteps approached. "What is it?"
My voice was a growl as my unease increased rapidly. "There's another Terror trailing us, and it's approaching quickly."
How was this even possible? Terrors were extraordinarily rare. I hadn't seen a Terror since I turned, and now there were two in the immediate area. As bad as things seemed, it would only get worse once the zombie actually arrived.
I heard inhales and exclamations of surprise and fear behind us. Daniel growled as he came to stand beside me, facing the same direction I was.
Nina's voice was the only one of calm reason. "He or she may be in control. They could be curious about why two zombies are traveling with a bunch of humans on foot."
I raised my head and took a deep breath while searching for details. I wasn't getting much, but I also wasn't picking up the more civilized scent of a sane zombie who washed their clothing or used personal hygiene products.
Another growl rumbled through my chest. "I have my doubts about that. The scent isn't quite right for a sane zombie."
Daniel dropped into a fighting crouch and took several steps toward the middle of the clearing. The feral Terror must have come out of the forest and followed the road before finding our trail. He knew he was getting closer and had picked up speed. Anyone in control would have slowed down as a precaution.
Nina began ushering the others farther away. "Let's go behind that tree, just in case it comes to a fight."
A fight was a foregone conclusion in my mind. The only variables were who would win and by how much.
I backed up some more. In a fight against a Terror, Daniel would be doing most of the heavy lifting. A Terror was much stronger than me, and a single blow would send me flying and probably shatter my bones as well. Daniel and I didn't trust each other enough to fight together as a team. Once our instincts came to the forefront of our minds, we would be just as likely to land a strike on one another as on the approaching Terror.
The humans retreated behind a couple of trees, still able to see us, but far enough away to give us some room. Ben and Hank both held onto Chloe's collar. Just to be on the safe side, I moved to the edge of the trees along the side of the clearing. I had no desire to become a Terror's punching bag, so I'd have to be careful if I tried to join this battle.
Daniel's low snarl marked the moment he finally caught our pursuer's scent. My muscles tensed at the sound, and it was a struggle not to duck into the foliage beside me. My instincts had been uneasy with the approach of the second Terror, but now they wanted to leave the vicinity as quickly as possible.
It wasn't long before I heard approaching footsteps and recognized the stride as that of a zombie running in a hunting crouch. I shifted my stance, ready to move at a moment's notice.
As the red-eyed, heavily-built man entered the clearing, Daniel snarled at him, making the feral Terror slide to a stop with a responding snarl. A light rumble of a growl echoed in my chest as I tried to force my instincts into attack mode without any success at all.
The Terror stalked closer to Daniel, who mirrored his movements. Both were in a crouched position while they threatened each other with snarls of challenge.
It was too much for me, and I slowly backed into the cover of the trees. There was no way I could fight a Terror head-on. However, there might be another way for me to help out.
I crept through the bushes along the clearing as I carefully watched the two zombies circling like unfriendly dogs. Terrors seemed a bit more cautious or reluctant to close in for an instant vicious melee battle. Nightstalkers, on the other hand, were well known to lay into a foe tooth and nail with their short tempers. I just needed to get pissed off enough that my temper overrode my instincts. That shouldn't be too hard after the frustrating week I'd had.
The tension was rapidly building between the Terrors. Such a standoff couldn't last long between two powerful predators who refused to back down. I considered trying to throw the crowbar, but the feral would likely hear it coming and dodge the projectile. There was also a chance of them moving suddenly, and with the way my luck was running today, I might even hit Daniel.
The feral charged with a snarl, and Daniel returned the sound as he met him halfway across the clearing. The two titans clashed, and both came out with a few scratches as they parted to circle each other once more. Neither had landed a blow sufficient enough to declare a winner, and in this situation, the First Strike rule was irrelevant. This was a fight over food, not something to do with their status in the local hierarchy; the feral Terror wouldn't back down since Daniel was keeping him from his prey.
The humans edged away from the fight but didn't try to run. They knew they had no chance of evading the Terror, nor did they scatter since Daniel only had to protect one direction if they stuck together. The human side of me was also ready to help defend them.
I crouched down in my concealed location and slowly drew my grain sickle. I was an ambush predator, after all. My prideful instincts began to focus on the possibilities of taking down a higher-ranking zombie. Besides, Nightstalkers didn't share well, and this zombie would kill all the humans that my instincts had pegged as a potential meal. How dare this zombie show up and expect that I'd just let him do what he pleased.
I silently bared my teeth as my instincts finally aligned themselves with my growing anger. Now that I wasn't trying to keep my temper contained, every little unintentional slight, annoying comment, or irritating question the others had made over the last week caused my vengeful fury to rear its head. With how my instincts were fixated on the Terror, the feral was going to be the one bearing the brunt of my version of "venting."
Biding my time, I remained hidden in my concealed location as the Terrors clashed again with roaring snarls that echoed throughout the clearing. My instincts shifted but realized that neither of them knew I was here – my focus only sharpened. The fighting zombies managed to lock their hands together as they strained to try and push each other backward.
The Terrors looked fairly evenly matched, although the feral was larger and heavier. I began to have doubts that Daniel would walk away from this fight as the winner. Being sane didn't mean you were stronger – all it meant was that we were in control and could still reason and use strategies. In a battle of raw power, Daniel didn't really have any way to trick a feral.
I couldn't figure out why he wasn't using weapons, although he hadn't been carrying any. Then again, he had probably never required weapons before today.
Daniel was gradually losing ground to the larger zombie. As they struggled to overpower each other, they slowly spun around on the spot. My vision took on a redder tinge in my desire to attack. I tensed my muscles as the two zombies kept rotating around each other in their attempts to get the upper hand. Just a bit more... There!
I launched out of my ambush at the feral Terror's back in complete silence – not a growl or snarl left my lips. The Terror had no warning before my hand landed on his head and pushed it sideways the same instant that my sickle sliced the entire front of his neck open.
I immediately kicked my feet against his back to jump away. I had to get out of his range before the faster zombie could get his hands free and react. My sickle hadn't managed to cut the spinal cord, but the injury I inflicted was serious enough that his lungs would fill with blood. At the very least, he wouldn't be able to breathe properly, which would slow him down enough for Daniel to finish him.
The feral Terror whirled around to face his new attacker as blood poured out of his throat. I continued backing up as quickly as I could without taking my eyes off my foe.
In that moment, he forgot about Daniel, who immediately took advantage of that opening and launched toward the feral's back. He wrapped both hands around the feral's throat and snapped his neck. With a powerful twist, he managed to tear the spinal column apart – finally beheading the deadly menace.
While Daniel ensured the feral was dead, I wiped my sickle clean on the grass and quickly sheathed it. As I stood up, the movement caught Daniel's attention, and he turned to snarl at me. I did a double-take when I noticed how brightly his eyes were glowing. If he wasn't running completely on his instincts, it was so close it might as well have counted.
I slowly eased backward, restraining my instinctive growl in case it egged him on. With his instincts flying high from the battle, they would see me as the only possible contender for his position as the winner – and with our lack of trust – almost certainly a threat that was willing to attack a Terror.
He took a slow step forward with a deep, rumbling growl, still in zombie mode and not thinking rationally. I narrowed my eyes and took several smooth steps back, although no flickers of rational thought appeared in his eyes.
Well, if he wanted to play by zombie rules... I used my fingernail to cut through a part of my palm, letting my own blood flow. It smelled of Nightstalker. Just like with the Runner, the first solid blow or first blood won. I had a new injury that drew blood, and in his zombie haze, this should declare him the winner.
He took another step forward with a deep growl. Apparently, Terrors didn't always observe the unwritten zombie laws. This discovery really couldn't have come at a worse time.
Having landed a crippling blow on one Terror, my instincts were no longer backing down from this one's warnings, particularly since he had been losing the previous battle. My instincts were caught up in their pride and warred with my caution, not ready to give in or retreat.
With a snarl at my defiance, Daniel dropped into a deeper crouch and took another step forward. I knew exactly what his instincts were upset about: a lower-ranking zombie had interfered in his battle and almost claimed his kill. Nor was I giving him the deference the zombie virus declared his rank should have.
I doubted he would harm a human, but I was a zombie, and that blurred too many lines while his instincts were so high. He wasn't playing by either human or zombie rules, and this made him far too unpredictable and dangerous. I had to leave before his instincts forced him to uphold his rank.
With a direct confrontation imminent, even my instincts wanted to get out of the line of attack. I backed up and slipped behind a thick stand of shrubs, disappearing from sight. I immediately spun around and ran off as silently as only a Nightstalker could. He wouldn't be able to hear my footsteps, and that would buy me precious time.
My speed was hampered by my need to run without making a sound, and I silently thanked my two Nightstalker friends for our many tracking games as we learned to cover our scent.
I didn't have time for most of the methods, but the quickest and simplest ones would probably confuse Daniel since he had likely never encountered them before. Grabbing a piece of driftwood, I smeared the blood from my earlier cut onto it and sent it downstream. As it floated away, I rubbed some sharp-smelling plants on my hands and clothing.
The blood on the driftwood should lead him for a merry chase if he tried to track me by scent. The plants wouldn't cover my zombie scent for more than a couple of minutes, so I had to move quickly.
I jumped over the creek, and a splash made me glance back. It took me a moment to realize that my crowbar had fallen off my backpack and into the water. I gritted my teeth and growled at the loss of the weapon, but there was no point in trying to retrieve it from the fast-flowing waters, especially when I wasn't exactly sure where it had fallen in. It wasn't as if it was the only crowbar in the world. I could always find another one.
Shaking my head at my carelessness and mentally berating myself, I climbed up a nearby tree and used the larger branches like monkey bars to avoid leaving tracks or a scent trail on the ground. It was a slow method of travel, so it wasn't long before I dropped down to the ground and continued northwest.
The more I thought about it, the less I intended on returning. Daniel was strong enough to escort the humans the rest of the way. If the two of us tried to travel together, it would undoubtedly come to blows.
I snorted as I realized that we hadn't even managed to travel together for twenty-four hours. Twice, we had come close to a challenge, and whatever had just happened was the last straw. He had killed the Terror without hesitation, even while his instincts were high, and zombie law said that one did not kill another zombie. He could have killed me just as swiftly.
I zigged and zagged through the underbrush since a straight path was far too easy to follow, occasionally using a trick or two to break my scent trail. I kept glancing back, as if something were amiss. Like I was forgetting something.
My steps faltered when I realized I wasn't hearing Chloe's familiar thudding paws in the leaf litter. I had always been more of a cat person, so realizing just how much her absence bothered me was a surprise.
I closed my eyes for a long second as I slowed down. My thoughts were conflicted – part of me selfishly wanted Chloe's company in the vast wilderness and to reassure any humans I encountered, but the other part of me wondered if she would have a better life in a Stronghold.
It wouldn't be too hard to go back and get her, but I really didn't feel like talking with the humans or encountering Daniel. Perhaps I could circle back and trail them until they set up camp. Chloe often wandered around our camping areas, and it shouldn't be too hard to catch her attention when Daniel was out hunting.
I had plenty of time to think about it while I evaded Daniel. If he was like most zombies, it would take a few hours for his instincts to settle after surging so high. I didn't hear him on my trail yet, but that didn't mean much since I had no clue if Terrors could move silently.
He was definitely faster than me though, and his hearing was keener. My only advantage right now was my silent footsteps.
I kept going at a slower pace; I may be a zombie, but all zombies had limits, and I was reaching mine. I had been going at a full run for the last fifteen minutes, and my breathing was hard enough that he would hear me long before he saw me. I was designed for the silent stalk and nighttime ambushes, not long-distance chases.
The wind wasn't in my favor, so I kept my ears open as I continued down a deer path.