One Hundred Twenty Two |

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One Hundred Twenty Two |

            This made me extremely nervous. This man summoned up a whole ass zombie bear that he now wanted us to ride. A bear! Like, I understood there was a point and time where I practically had to fist fight a zombie bear, but this? Totally different and more terrifying. It was also extremely sad. I hadn't given Barron's ability much thought before, but now looking at this black bear I felt extremely guilty.

            "Did you turn him?" I whispered, watching the American bear sit on it's bum.

            Barron shrugged, "Does it matter if it was me or not?"

            "I think so," I sighed, "I think it should matter."

            "But it doesn't," he replied, "Not really. In the dead zone nothing survives in the end. Nature fights like us humans, and sometimes it flourishes and sometimes it doesn't. If it makes you feel better, I can tell you I found the bear already turned by some half rotten zombie that could never hold it's own against a bear but you knew the truth before you asked. If I didn't turn him, we won't make it to the City of Ash in time. It's his life for the sake of our future."

            "Cruel," I muttered, my fingers brushing against the bear's matted fur, "Unfair."

            He nodded, "This world will always be unfair. But not only in our favor. Sometimes, nature is unfair to us, and sometimes we're unfair to nature. There's a balance Mira, for every animal I turn into a zombie, there's another out in the world being born. In this place stray dogs are invasive to the animals surviving, I bet you didn't know that."

            I paused, looking over at him, "No I didn't."

            "I know," he smirked, "But ever notice I have a never-ending supply of dogs? A few years ago it was so bad that no one could scavenge without being attacked by stray dogs. The dogs were faster than the zombies, hard to grab and fast enough to hunt anything that moved. My debt to the world is helping balance the pyramid of predators. Now get on the damn bear. We need to go."

            I nodded. He whistled and the bear got up. It was a small bear, definitely larger than Barron and myself but still smaller than the stereotypical bear. Barron mentioned something about American black bears being fast, and I just smiled and nodded. He got on first, and then I got on the bear behind him. My arms wrapping tightly around my unlikely ally and I sucked in my breathe. Then we were off.

            Barron's idea of a short cut it seemed, was riding the bear through the middle of the fucking city. My eyes bulged as we cut through horde after horde of zombie, but surprisingly, none turned our way. I knew I was to be ignored, but I was curious as to why they didn't pay Barron any attention. Still, I didn't dare speak, my eyes shutting tightly and the loud drowning noises of zombies moaning and groaning around us had bile rising in my stomach. My thighs squeezed the bear's sides tightly, and I flinched every time we brushed past a zombie.

            The bear was a savage. Not caring as he trampled over and through the horde, the sickening crunch of soggy bones and mushy flesh under us a memory that I knew would plague my mind forever. Not to mention the smell. I had never wondered what thousands of zombies would smell like, trapped in the ruined streets of a large city, baking internally under the sun—and now I prayed the scent would leave my body. It smelt like a sulfur bomb had gone off in a pile of hot garbage that had been boiling under the sun. I could feel the maggots flying from flesh, the scent of dried blood feasted on by wasps and flies alike for years on end.

            My fingers grasped Barron's waist so hard I knew my fingers turned white, I didn't care. All I cared about was escaping this disgusting place. After what felt like hours and hours trapped in a hell much greater than any pyro flames, we broke through the city line and into the forest.

            "Stop!" I cried, as soon as we were free.

            The bear had barely slowed as I flung myself off and onto the dirt ground of the forest. My ankles instantly cracked and broke as I slammed into the ground, bile flying from my mouth as I retched against a tree. Slowly the ache of my feet began to dull as my bones healed, and still I could smell the smell that had my stomach viciously emptying over and over again.

            "Yeah, I should have said something," he hummed, the bear trotting over, "Whoops. I guess I just got so used to unconsciously not inhaling and holding my breath."

            I looked up at him angrily, but another wave of vomit hit me.

            "Oh god," I moaned, tears dripping down my face, "Ooh."

            "Really?" he laughed, "It wasn't that bad."

            I threw up again, my throat burning.

            Kill him, please let me kill him, Zero hissed.

            "How can you not smell it still?" I gagged, rearing back from the puddle of vomit.

            "Dramatic," he replied rolling his eyes.

            I shook my head, "I can't—no more bear."

            "That's fine, we can walk the rest of the way," he replied.

            I paused, standing slowly on shaking legs, "Is that alright?"

            "Yeah, it's like a five minute walk away from here," he replied, "Come on."

            My guard rose, and I nodded slowly. As we walked, my hand twitched to the hilt of my blade. Every noise in the forest was echoed to my ears, every twig we stepped on sounded like a gunshot. As we walked, the path through the forest seemed familiar and yet not at the same time, and as we reared what was the familiar City of Ash entrance, I realized why—we had come from the opposite way. Confusion filled me, it seemed Barron had lead us through the city but then looped around to the back part of the entrance.

            "Why?" I whispered, "Why this way?"

            He pressed a finger to his lips, "It would be bad if we had run into any guards."

            I nodded, it made sense.

            "So, how do we get in?" I murmured, eyeing the garage doors carefully.

            He smirked, "You forget that this is my home. I have the keycode."

            My eyes rolled but I said nothing, our feet shuffling over the dirt towards the front of the door. Barron moves forward, his fingers nimble on the keycode box. It beeps once, then flashes red. I peered past him as the metal door made no move to open.

            "Was something supposed to happen?" I asked.

            He frowned deeply, "It was supposed to, clearly."

            "So?"

            "So what? I tried the code, let me try again."

            He did, again and again, each time the stupid little screen flashing a sickening red that indicated there was no mistake, he had been locked out. He took a step back, a sudden troubled look on his face. It filled me with panic and while he clearly needed a moment to think, that was a luxury we didn't have.

            "What's going on?" I demanded, tapping my foot.

            He looked over at me, betrayal clear on his face, "I've been abandoned."

            "By who—Maxwell? Who cares," I snapped.

            Tears filled his eye and he numbly nodded, "Yeah. R-Right."

            "What is your issue?" I snapped, grabbing his arm, "Fuck Maxwell, we're on our way to kill him, why do you care if he locked you out? You're seriously crying over him?"

            He pulled his arm away, "Let it go."

            "No," I snarled, "I want to know why you're crying!"

            "Because he didn't know I was going to betray him!" he screamed, his chest heavying, spit flying from his mouth, "He didn't know I had changed sides! He decided that I wasn't useful in guarding him, and I would have with my life. Was I ever anything to him? It was always Sebastian. Sebastian was always his fucking favourite and I was always in the shadows of that. Why? Sebastian can't control the dead, the only thing he has going for him is what? Acidic blood? Why? Why wasn't I the favourite?"

            My eyes widened and my lips parted. He cried into his elbow and I finally understood him better. I think I too easily forgot that all of Maxwell's dogs were children groomed for war. They didn't have parents, they had a dictator that branded them by usefulness. Each fought for his approval because that's how he raised them.

            "Oh Barron," I whispered, "I'm sorry I-I didn't think about that."

            He shook his head, "No you didn't. You had the luxury to have had a family die for you, you have friends that are willing to die for you. You have the privilege of being loved."

            "I guess we're at a disagreement then," I said quietly, "I'd rather have the privilege of being unloved than having those I love die over and over again for me."

            A silence fell over us and then Barron sighed.

            "We need to get inside," he said wiping his face, "Any ideas?"

            I looked over the garage door again, thinking hard. I looked up at the ceiling then, noticing a familiar red blinking light. A frown pulled onto my face and I did a little wave. No doubt Maxwell being the coward that he was, was inside watching us. It was easy to think about what he's doing. He was waiting for me here because he knows he has no chance against a whole army. The whole locked door would only force me to notice him. He wants me to know that in his home, I'm at the disadvantage.

            "Barron listen," I said looking back to him, my fingers curled into fists, "I need a favor."

            His brow went up, "What?"

            "I need you to go and make sure we win. Please, use your dogs and please make sure my friends win. Here--," I said suddenly, reaching into my pocket and pulling out my father's journal, "Take this. Give it to Sebastian and tell him he needs to have it, I want him to have it. I'm ready for him to share all my secrets, every single page of them."

            "They'll kill me on sight," he protested, "Besides, you can't even get in."

            "Please," I whispered, "Do as I say. They won't attack you, not if you relay my message. I'm trusting you Barron, I need you to do this."

            He hesitated before nodding, taking the book and whistling loudly, "Don't die Mira."

            Then, he was taking off on the back of the dead bear. I breathed slowly, knowing that Barron would protect them with all that he had. Maxwell fucked up letting Barron go, and that would be his mistake. I looked back to the door once he was gone, doing another little wave.

            "Alright," I said loudly, my hand on my hilt, "It's just me now. It's time Maxwell. It's time for us to decide the fate of entire The Dead Zone."

            And just like that, the door began to roll open.


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