Garnet
The year is 2013.
Three years ago, the world was destroyed. While the planet and its ecology remained intact, humanity was nearly wiped out by what was known as the Green Flu.
It wasn't really a flu. The early symptoms were flu-like, of course, which gave it its name. But the final stage was the deadliest. The virus turned its victims into what we called zombies. At first it was like they were the traditional sort of zombie, wandering mindlessly, aimlessly, or sitting or laying down where they stood, wherever they were. But then they started to kill, tearing at the unInfected with what seemed to be hunger.
Two weeks after the first infection, the virus started to physically change its victims. Some became like huge, rage-fueled gorillas; others were formed into small, hunched leaping creatures. But whatever these new, special Infected had become, they were even less human than the "common" zombies. They were well and truly animals. Their brains, their bodies were changed irrevocably.
Some people, like me, were immune. This was extremely rare; I was one of merely hundreds. Others, less rare but nonetheless uncommon, were carriers—immune to the symptoms, but unable to destroy the virus, and thus still able to spread it. These were as dangerous, if not more so, than the zombies themselves. But the vast majority of the human population was not immune to any degree. By the end of 2009, most of the United States, if not the world, had been wiped out, whether turned to zombies or killed by them.
Most of the survivors, whether immune or otherwise, fled, trying to escape their new predators. I, however, was an exception.
My name is Garnet Blake. Three years ago, I had been a veterinarian, practicing in a small rural town in western Pennsylvania until CEDA called for my expertise. They placed me with a crack team of researchers on the east side of the state to study the zombies. But that team was destroyed, and, alone, I made a reckless decision. Using my knowledge of the behavior of wild animals, and the knowledge of the similarities between animals and these new creatures, I would tame some of the "special" Infected, those zombies who were further changed by the virus. Instead of fleeing or even fighting, I would throw my lot in with them in a desperate effort at survival.
I succeeded better than I could ever have imagined…
The Colorado Rocky Mountains lay under their winter blanket, with only the rare bird song to break the quiet. Bare, skeletal branches reached to the clouded midday sky in a silent plea for life, for there seemed to be none now. This was a harsh winter, clinging with frozen claws, with no hint of the spring that was to come.
A fierce whistle pierced the silence. Garnet lowered her fingers from her mouth and tucked them back into the thick, wool-lined glove she'd pulled off, and glanced around the clearing in which she stood. Beside her, Blake wheezed and shifted his weight, rolling his good shoulder under the harness he wore. That harness was attached to the sled that carried all the Pack's supplies; he'd volunteered to pull it for the time being, letting Garnet have a break for the first time in days. Riding on top of the numerous packs and boxes was Caroline, wearing an oversized sweatshirt and sweatpants for additional warmth. She was sobbing as always, but quietly, with only the occasional whimper and sniffle to betray her.
Garnet was growing a little worried. This was the third day in a row that she had been forced to recall the Hunters after an unsuccessful hunt. They of course had an ample supply of trail-rations—jerky, granola bars and the like—but fresh meat for her carnivorous Pack was always preferable. She wondered, as she often did, if the zombies had proven to be more devastating to the animal kingdom than she'd initially assumed. After all, so many of the Infected strains were fast, and only those animals who were faster would be able to outrun them.
But perhaps not; perhaps it was just the equivalent of reintroducing the top predators after near-extinction at human hands. It wasn't as though Garnet would ever be able to do any research on the subject. She was more concerned with the immediate survival of her Pack.
The loose snow in front of them exploded in a flurry as three weights slammed into it from the branches above. She stood unfazed, however, as the snow settled again to reveal the other three members of the Pack. Lexi rose onto two legs and pawed at her hood to clear it of the chill flakes before they soaked through, then turned her face to Garnet. A soft whine escaped her throat, the confirmation of a failed hunt, and Garnet nodded, though she knew the Huntress couldn't see it.
"I know, Lexi, it's okay," Garnet assured her, though she knew Lexi didn't understand the words at all. "Good girl. And good boys, Chris, Jeremy." The other two Hunters growled acknowledgement and Chris rose onto two legs as well to move next to the redheaded human. Jeremy remained crouched beside his mate, though he still pulled his hands from the snow.
With the Pack gathered, Garnet took Blake's gloved hand (his only concession to the biting mountain cold) in her own and started forward. The three Hunters followed after her, all three now on two legs. They found it easier to move through the snow that way, although on clearer ground they would drop back to their preferred posture of all fours.
With no good hunting in this portion of the forest, it was time to move on. As they always had, they would find shelter for the night, and merely travel until they found a healthy territory. There they would settle until it was again time to continue.
So it had been for the last three years. But if the truth was to be told, Garnet wanted somewhere permanent to settle, a territory for the Pack to call its own. She hoped to find it here, in the Rockies; the National Park and its surrounding National Forests were almost pure wilderness, deep in the mountains, and so likely to be untouched, even this long after the end of the world. They didn't need a lot of territory, after all, and they could push out other zombies if they needed to. They'd done it before.
"The only trouble is finding food," she murmured aloud to herself. Only Blake glanced down at her for a moment; the others ignored her words. She often spoke to herself, just for the sake of hearing a human voice. After the first year of it, they learned to disregard it.
That there was no good hunting to be found was worrisome. Even in the dead of winter the last two years, they'd been able to find something—a rabbit or two, perhaps, or a squirrel. Some sort of fresh meat that would at least temper her Pack's hunger. But here, there was nothing.
"Then again, the last two winters were spent in the flatlands. Pennsylvania and then Missouri. They were milder down there, and didn't drive the animals to wander father away from their usual territories."
Perhaps that was it. But perhaps there was something more. Garnet didn't know, and couldn't find out.
When the sky began to darken, she sent Chris out to find shelter. It didn't take him very long to return, and he led them to a small, cozy den in the stony mountainside just barely large enough for the six of them. There was no room for the sled, but she wasn't concerned; the twins were light sleepers, at least, and hungry enough that if any animal or another zombie came around, they would be awake instantly. Their supplies and stored food were safe.
Settling in for the night was a chore. She began with gathering wood for a fire, and then clearing a pit in front of the den for a fire. Once that was lit, she brought out a battered cooking pot and filled it with snow to heat and boil. Leaving that, she retrieved enough food from the packs on the sled to feed the six of them. For herself, she pulled out the nonmeat foodstuffs first, setting it out on top of a box. Then she laid out the jerky—which she'd made herself from the venison and beef the Hunters had brought down earlier in the year—for the others as well as her.
By the time they finished eating, the snow was boiling. Retrieving a ragged cloth and a bar of soap, she got to work on bathing each of the Pack. Beginning with Lexi, each of the Infected were stripped and washed, along with their clothing and the thick cloths that Garnet had been forced to delegate to serving as diapers. She only washed herself and her own clothing last and poured what little water remained a short distance away from the den.
When her chores were complete, it was dark. She banked the fire, and directed her Pack into the den. There, the six of them piled together to share warmth and comfort, as they did every night. By midnight, only Caroline remained partly awake, sniffling quietly.
The following morning was as dark and dreary as the previous, but even colder. Garnet was shivering when she woke, despite Blake's arms around her and the five bodies pressed against her. Caroline was sobbing in earnest, likely because she could finally feel the chill. Even the Hunters seemed in a foul mood for the cold. Only Blake remained unfazed, though the occasional involuntary shudder passed through him.
Garnet could see why the temperature had dropped, however, when they left the den. It had snowed during the night, and a fresh blanket covered the sled and the ashes of the night's fire. With a sigh, she got to work on the morning's chores. However, due to the chill temperature, she skipped much of them, including the bathing; the only time she stripped the Infected was to change and wash their cloth diapers.
They were moving again by midmorning, Blake once more pulling the sled. The skies were still gray, and Garnet wondered if they were in for a blizzard. Though she couldn't yet entirely read the mountain weather and predict it accurately, she had learned that sudden blizzards were common here. In that light, she wondered if it was wise to turn back and once again take shelter in the den.
Chris had been scouting ahead, as he often did. As Garnet was debating, he let out an alert-cry, startling her from her thoughts. The sound wasn't urgent, as though he'd encountered another predator, nor was it a hunting-cry, but he'd found something. She picked up her pace as Lexi and Jeremy bounded ahead to investigate, and caught up with the three of them moments later.
Immediately, she saw the reason Chris had called. There, in the snow, were footprints.
"No…not footprints. Bootprints." Garnet crouched over them to get a closer look. They were deep, and twice as wide as her own; whoever made them was large, but not so large as a Tank or a Charger. Even more striking was their evenness; no zombie's gait was ever so smooth as to make these. No matter the strain, there was at least a little stumbling, a little limping, a little zig-zagging in their path, just like any animal.
These were human footprints. They weren't new; they were half-filled, including the previous night's snowfall, which meant they were at least a few days old. But they were still human.
Garnet reeled back as though struck, catching herself just before she toppled backward into the snow. Humanity! This far into the mountains! Their presence explained much about why there'd been no luck in hunting, and why the Pack hadn't seen another zombie for weeks. If the humans had been here for a long length of time, they'd have driven out the animals just by being there, and they'd have actively hunted down and destroyed the zombies in as wide a radius as they could have managed.
The Pack hadn't encountered very many humans in the last three years after Jeremy had joined. Garnet had always been careful to avoid anything that would resemble a settlement, and led them in a wide berth around smaller signs of humanity. The few encounters they did have often ended in that human's death—either because the person had tried to ambush one of the Pack, or would refuse to leave them be, despite her requests for peace. It was rare when she didn't need to give the command to kill.
A questioning wheeze from Blake brought her back to the present. She smiled up at him, and stood again, brushing snow from her legs. Looking down one more time at the footprints, she made her decision—the same decision she always made when faced with her own kind.
"Here, Hunters," Garnet said sharply, and turned away, starting back the way they'd come. Immediately, the three she called joined her, though Lexi whined inquisitively. Garnet smiled at the Huntress, and reached over to scratch her head through her hood, eliciting a pleasurable growl from her.
"Don't worry, girl. Maybe we'll have better luck the next mountain or two over..."
Author's Notes: Aaaaaaaaaand we're back, folks! Great to see you all again. I apologize profusely for that unannounced hiatus; between the end of the semester, World of Warcraft: Cataclysm's release, and just plain old writer's block, I just wasn't up to writing anything, let alone this first chapter of FtD's sequel.
Yes indeed, folks-the sequel at long last! The further adventures of the Home Sector Pack! New friends, new enemies, aaaand possibly some more fluff. XD I know the title's a bit out of left field, but it'll make more sense later, I promise. To those of you new to my writing, welcome! I encourage you to read my story Next chapter to come likely after the weekend. Or something.