sailorstarsun (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sailorstarsun) wrote2023-06-23 07:25 pm
sailorstarsun) wrote2023-06-23 07:25 pm
AU 2
I really do want to talk about my trip to Korea. I do! But I still need to transfer the pictures over from my phone, and that is forever put into the Will Do It Later basket. So, please hold on that.
In the meantime, I'll post the next part of this thing!
Content warning: gore, maybe kinda sad (zombie baby)
* * *
Chapter Two – Run
His hands tightened around the hilt of his sword, his grip firm, and then he delivered a powerful horizontal slash. The strike cut cleanly through the zombie's neck, right above the rope tied around it, lobbing the head right off. The head spun in the air several turns before hitting the ground. Its body fell backwards once cut off from the brain, but the head's teeth continued to gnash, as if waiting for something to wander by a little too close. Tachi put the thing out of its misery, dropping the tip of his sword through its right temple. Destroying the brain was the only way to kill them for good.
He looked around, scanning the streets cautiously, but didn't see any more of the undead creatures. Not that that meant others weren't out there. They tended to get stuck in their mindless bumbling, trapped behind counters or railings or fences, unable to free themselves or walk ten centimeters to the left to find the right path. But then whatever held them back would give way, or some sound or scent would draw them in the right direction, and they would be out, seeming as if they had popped out of nowhere to anyone not paying attention.
Tachi paid attention whenever he went out, never letting his guard down. Relaxing was a luxury these days.
The nearby stores had basically been completely cleaned out by now. Not a single stone in the seven-kilometer perimeter he did his runs on had even a tiny, edible crumb in them. He would have to expand his area again, especially now that he had two mouths to feed.
He laughed at himself – and maybe blushed a little, but maybe that was just the summer heat warming his cheeks – at the thought. It made it sound like he'd had a baby, and while it was unfortunate that that wasn't the case, he couldn't deny how glad he was to finally have another living person in his life.
Günter was a really nice guy, smart, and thoughtful. He was likely stronger than he thought, but admitted he wasn't much of a fighter, and was too scared to leave his apartment – a place that was a mirror image of Tachi's own apartment and as safe as one could be, given the circumstances. Anyone not wanting to go out in this zombie-infested, apocalyptic world was understandable, especially if they couldn't fight.
Tachi could fight. He had been fighting his whole life, in the dojo his family expected him to inherit.
And he did want to take it over. Really.
Someday.
Just not as soon as his parents had wanted him to, and especially not with all the carrying-on-the-family-name baggage that was expected to go with it. He had wanted all that someday, in a future that was gone now, but not in his mid- and then late- twenties. Perhaps his parents would say he lost his chance, if they were even still alive.
His parents were the first people he tried to call when he figured out what was happening – that the dead had come back to feed on the living. He didn't know if Japan had fallen first or if there was something interfering with international telecommunications, but he couldn't get through to them – not even a dial tone. He tried calling his sister, even his nephews, but couldn't connect at all. He was isolated from his family.
Then he tried calling the students of the small martial arts school he had opened after moving to America. Most of his students or their parents didn't pick up when he called, leaving him with a sinking, sickening feeling in his gut. To the few he could get through to, he pleaded with them to stay safe, stay inside, wait for help. But help never came, and he couldn't even take his own advice.
He hoped at least some of them survived.
When the power and internet went out, he became even more isolated. He went on food runs frequently, just in the hopes that he would find other people, but the one and only time he did, it almost became a battle over a few cans of soup, and Tachi wasn't about to hurt another person who was clearly so desperate for food, so he let it go. The only thing that really kept him sane throughout everything was seeing his neighbor staring out the window of his loft. It reminded Tachi that there were other people out there, and that meant a chance that life would someday go back to normal.
But his neighbor had been growing thinner and thinner by the day, and then he stopped appearing at all.
Tachi had no explanation for why he hadn't thought about reaching out sooner.
He insisted Günter's companionship was enough repayment for the food he shared; Günter said it wasn't enough, but didn't have any ideas on how to pay him back or contribute to their shared existence, other than giving him more than a fair share of the water he collected.
It didn't matter. Tachi was just happy to have a friend.
He wiped the smear of brown, goopy blood on his sword off on the zombie's shirt and re-sheathed it. The bakery he had slipped into was empty, aside from the now-dead owner; others must have gotten here first, strangled the owner, then cleaned the place out.
That the living could be just as dangerous as the mindless dead was terrifying.
There were ingredients for baking left behind – powdered sugar, corn starch, and five different kinds of flour – but he didn't know what, if anything, could be done with that stuff. He didn't know how to cook, and didn't have access to a working oven anyway. It wouldn't do to be weighed down with a ten-kilogram bag of powder that could be useless.
He stuffed a small bag of powdered sugar into his rucksack, then left the place. It had been a small bakery – just a counter and a register – so he had been hoping it had been missed when he went in. It was dawning on him now that nothing would be missed. Every single shop, convenience store, butcher shop, bakery, candy store – it would all be picked over and empty by now. He would have to go further, but as he looked up to the sky, he realized today wouldn't be the day for that. It was growing dark, and while his eyesight was good, he didn't want to be out at night, when visibility was low.
It was a pity he would return empty-handed, but as his eyes landed on the house next to the bakery, he thought perhaps he didn't have to.
Raiding people's houses wasn't something he had done yet in the two months since this had all begun. Something about it felt wrong; invading the sanctity of someone's home a line he didn't want to cross. But things would get harder before they got easier, and it would be something that would have to happen eventually, if he and Günter survived.
He would only go in if it were empty. He wouldn't take from the living, like that soup thief.
There was no way of knowing which houses were occupied or not – all the lights were out with no electricity, and people tended to keep visible movement to a minimum, and the one and only time he had caught the flicker of candlelight in a window, it was on a house with a prominent sign that read 'Keep Out – Trespassers, Dead Or Alive, Will Be Shot On Sight'.
Tachi shook his head at the memory.
America.
So he chose a house without any fencing or obstructions to the back yard, and slipped along the side of the house, peering in windows as he went. He found a back door and looked in the window next to it, and though he didn't see any signs of anything, he knocked on the door. Not loudly, but with how quiet the world had become since the dead took over, it was sure to be heard if there was anyone to hear it.
"Hello?" he called as he knocked again. "I'm human, I promise. Is anyone there?"
No response came, and nothing stirred in the view he had from the window.
"Hello?" he tried again, listening intently. If someone were in there, maybe they were checking him out, trying to determine if he was safe or not, or maybe they were holed up and hidden somewhere, and needed a second to get out, like Günter had. Or maybe the place was empty, and all he was doing was drawing the attention of the dead.
He tried the door handle. It was locked, of course, which he supposed was a good thing. It meant if there was someone in there, they could be safe and alive, having kept the zombies out – in which case he would apologize profusely and immediately leave. Or if the house was empty, it appeared as though no one else had gone in and looted the place already.
Either way, Tachi had never broken into a house before, and wasn't exactly sure how to go about it, short of breaking the window to reach through and unlock the door from the inside. Which is exactly what he did.
Inside was quiet, no one coming to greet him or fend him off or try to eat him. He made sure to shut the door behind him before calling out another tentative, "Hello? Is anybody here?" receiving no response. After a moment of listening, he took a deep breath.
He was going to do this. He was going to rob somebody's house.
Pantry first; that was where food would be. Locating a door that couldn't logically be anything else, he pulled it open to find himself faced with a stack of shallow shelves lined with boxes, cans, and bags.
"Yes," Tachi cheered to himself. Either other survivors hadn't been hitting houses at all, or they hadn't gotten to this one yet. He grabbed the first box his hand touched and ripped it open, yanking out a handful of cookies and shoving two of them into his mouth. The taste of almost-stale, mass-produced almond cookies had never been so good.
Popping another cookie into his mouth before the first ones were even swallowed, he grabbed another box off the shelf, looking at it as he chewed, and found it was a package of microwavable curry. When he spotted the twenty-kilogram bag of rice on the floor, he finally realized that it must have been Asians living here.
He laughed, then began to drag the bag of rice out of the pantry. It would be a pain to get it home, but it was the best thing he could have ever found. Rice was a staple food, easy to make and packed with the calories they desperately needed these days. After hefting the bag onto the kitchen counter to grab before leaving, he turned back to the pantry, stuffing boxes of whatever could be consumed without cooking into his pack. The bread was already green with mold, but crunchy, uncooked ramen would make a fine snack, and perhaps the seasoning packets could be used to flavor the rice for some variety. The instant curry would be edible even cold, and most of the cookies seemed fine, if a little stale. He had really hit the jackpot.
A 'thud' sounded overhead.
Tachi's hands and his heart stopped. He went stone still, breath frozen in his lungs, listening intently. And when the sound came again – a sound of footsteps, of someone or something moving about – everything revved back to life.
He should go. He should take what he had found and get out, go home, share his spoils and feast with Günter. But he couldn't. If that was a living person upstairs, someone who had been fighting to survive, then he would be stealing from them, taking their food – he may as well have been taking their life. He wasn't yet at the point where he was willing to harm someone else for his own gain, even if it meant going a little hungry himself. He didn't want to, but he had to go check it out. If it was the living, he would apologize and leave. If it was the dead...
He would put them out of their misery.
The sound seemed to be a repetitive 'thudding' as he made his way up the stairs to the home's second floor, and a blush warmed Tachi's cheeks as he wondered if maybe he had broken into the home of a couple enjoying intimate activities. He quickly shook the thought out of his mind, though – he couldn't even imagine being in the mood for that when the walking dead roamed right outside the door. Not even if he had a girlfriend.
... Okay, well, maybe if he had a girlfriend.
He followed the sound down a hall of closed doors, until he located where it was coming from. The thudding was against the door itself, which made it even less likely to be some living couple biding their time in bed.
He unsheathed his sword.
His left hand slowly reached for the door knob, part of him hoping a voice called out from inside the room, saying they had gotten stuck, the door was jammed and they couldn't get out, but they were alive and healthy. Another part of him said to just go, to grab the food and get out.
The door knob turned, not locked or jammed at all, and Tachi's heart sank.
As soon as he cracked the door open, he was faced with a clouded, dead eye, and a snarl. The thing didn't even get a chance to throw itself at the door – Tachi quickly raised his sword and stabbed it through the face, impaling its head.
Then he sighed. "Why did you have to be dead?"
He yanked his sword back, knocking the zombie's head against the door frame and pulling the blade free. The creature crumpled to the floor, blocking the door, but it didn't push back when Tachi gave a hefty shove and forced his way inside. He had only intended on getting food, but now that he thought about it, since he was here and he knew the homeowner was dead, it might not be a bad idea to look for some clean clothes. Rainwater only went so far for actually cleaning things, and his brights were no longer so bright, his whites long since being white. Something clean would definitely boost morale.
It was a bedroom he stepped into, though not one he would typically imagine for adults. It was a powder blue color, with fluffy, white clouds painted along the top border, a white dresser and – shit – a crib in one corner.
Tachi didn't want to look at it. He didn't even want to think about it, so he turned to the corpse on the floor. Sheathing his sword once more, he knelt down and turned the body over. It was a woman, maybe young, but decomposition had set in and distorted her features. Her skin had turned a brownish-yellow hue, her lips and gums receding. She was thin – more than that; she was skinny. He had seen plenty of zombies with their layers of fat still trapped in their sallow skin, like bags of oatmeal ready to spill. This woman looked like she hadn't had an ounce of fat left to her.
Heart heavy, Tachi looked over the corpse's body, lifting her shirt only to decent levels, checking her neck and hair and feet. There wasn't any blood or bite-marks on her, no blunt-force trauma or sign of injury. There were only skeletal wrists and sunken cheeks.
She had starved to death.
Hot tears pricked at Tachi's eyes, though he had thought he was done crying months ago. He just... didn't understand. "But... But you had food..." All that food downstairs, the food that was going to feed him and Günter, why didn't she eat that? Why wasn't she downstairs in the kitchen, instead of trapped up here, hiding in a bedroom? There was food, right there – all she had to do was step through the door.
But stepping outside proved to be too terrifying for some people. He supposed he knew that quite well. He had seen it; his now only living friend in the world had nearly died because of fear.
He had to get Günter outside.
At the current rate, if something happened to Tachi, Günter would be a goner too. Even if he survived, scavengable stuff was going to run out eventually. Unless they found a way to grow crops on their rooftops, they were going to have to leave the city.
He nodded to himself, decided.
Reaching out, Tachi slipped the corpse's eyes shut and said a little prayer for her. Then, with a sigh, he grabbed his sword from where he had laid it down, and stood up. Tonight, they would feast on curry and rice, and talk.
He turned to leave, tying his sword securely at his waist, where it belonged. Just as he was about to step through the doorway into the hallway, however, a tiny snarl came from the room's corner.
Slowly, Tachi turned, heart thudding painfully.
No. Please, please, no.
He turned back around, back into the bedroom. Stepping around the fallen corpse, he moved toward the crib on halting, reluctant steps, forcefully commanding one foot in front of the other. He didn't want to see what was in there, but he had to know – had to put what he feared he would find out of its misery, while praying it had just been a figment of his imagination.
As he drew closer and he was able to see over the railing of the crib, his heart dropped to the floor and shattered to pieces.
It was so small. Its little hands that should have been clutching something soft and bunny-shaped instead reaching like claws. Instead of crying with healthy, strong lungs, it snarled pathetically, hungrier than ever.
A sob escaped from Tachi's throat, and he smacked a hand over his mouth as his vision went blurry and wet. An age passed as he stared at the tragic bundle, its too-thin skin a sickening yellow, coursed with dark veins. It didn't appear to have any bite marks or other signs of distress on it, another unnecessary case of starvation. The baby must have died first – if the mother had, she would have eaten the poor thing, no concept of motherly love amongst the dead. It was slightly less tragic this way, he supposed, but tragic all the same.
As silent tears began to burn their way down his face, Tachi unsheathed his sword again.
He held up his bag and smiled brightly when the door opened, calling, "Dinner is served!" But as Günter stepped back to give him room to enter, the bag and Tachi's smile both slowly fell.
They regarded each other a moment, Günter's brows slanting up in concern, and Tachi knew he could never stand to lose this person.
His smile perked up again.
"I need you to do something for me, though."
* * *
I'm actually currently (slowly!) working on chapter 4, and just now realized that the first 3 chapters all end with Tachi saying something. ^^ I'm debating making that a consistent thing, but can't guarantee he's going tolive through be in every chapter.
In the meantime, I'll post the next part of this thing!
Content warning: gore, maybe kinda sad (zombie baby)
Chapter Two – Run
His hands tightened around the hilt of his sword, his grip firm, and then he delivered a powerful horizontal slash. The strike cut cleanly through the zombie's neck, right above the rope tied around it, lobbing the head right off. The head spun in the air several turns before hitting the ground. Its body fell backwards once cut off from the brain, but the head's teeth continued to gnash, as if waiting for something to wander by a little too close. Tachi put the thing out of its misery, dropping the tip of his sword through its right temple. Destroying the brain was the only way to kill them for good.
He looked around, scanning the streets cautiously, but didn't see any more of the undead creatures. Not that that meant others weren't out there. They tended to get stuck in their mindless bumbling, trapped behind counters or railings or fences, unable to free themselves or walk ten centimeters to the left to find the right path. But then whatever held them back would give way, or some sound or scent would draw them in the right direction, and they would be out, seeming as if they had popped out of nowhere to anyone not paying attention.
Tachi paid attention whenever he went out, never letting his guard down. Relaxing was a luxury these days.
The nearby stores had basically been completely cleaned out by now. Not a single stone in the seven-kilometer perimeter he did his runs on had even a tiny, edible crumb in them. He would have to expand his area again, especially now that he had two mouths to feed.
He laughed at himself – and maybe blushed a little, but maybe that was just the summer heat warming his cheeks – at the thought. It made it sound like he'd had a baby, and while it was unfortunate that that wasn't the case, he couldn't deny how glad he was to finally have another living person in his life.
Günter was a really nice guy, smart, and thoughtful. He was likely stronger than he thought, but admitted he wasn't much of a fighter, and was too scared to leave his apartment – a place that was a mirror image of Tachi's own apartment and as safe as one could be, given the circumstances. Anyone not wanting to go out in this zombie-infested, apocalyptic world was understandable, especially if they couldn't fight.
Tachi could fight. He had been fighting his whole life, in the dojo his family expected him to inherit.
And he did want to take it over. Really.
Someday.
Just not as soon as his parents had wanted him to, and especially not with all the carrying-on-the-family-name baggage that was expected to go with it. He had wanted all that someday, in a future that was gone now, but not in his mid- and then late- twenties. Perhaps his parents would say he lost his chance, if they were even still alive.
His parents were the first people he tried to call when he figured out what was happening – that the dead had come back to feed on the living. He didn't know if Japan had fallen first or if there was something interfering with international telecommunications, but he couldn't get through to them – not even a dial tone. He tried calling his sister, even his nephews, but couldn't connect at all. He was isolated from his family.
Then he tried calling the students of the small martial arts school he had opened after moving to America. Most of his students or their parents didn't pick up when he called, leaving him with a sinking, sickening feeling in his gut. To the few he could get through to, he pleaded with them to stay safe, stay inside, wait for help. But help never came, and he couldn't even take his own advice.
He hoped at least some of them survived.
When the power and internet went out, he became even more isolated. He went on food runs frequently, just in the hopes that he would find other people, but the one and only time he did, it almost became a battle over a few cans of soup, and Tachi wasn't about to hurt another person who was clearly so desperate for food, so he let it go. The only thing that really kept him sane throughout everything was seeing his neighbor staring out the window of his loft. It reminded Tachi that there were other people out there, and that meant a chance that life would someday go back to normal.
But his neighbor had been growing thinner and thinner by the day, and then he stopped appearing at all.
Tachi had no explanation for why he hadn't thought about reaching out sooner.
He insisted Günter's companionship was enough repayment for the food he shared; Günter said it wasn't enough, but didn't have any ideas on how to pay him back or contribute to their shared existence, other than giving him more than a fair share of the water he collected.
It didn't matter. Tachi was just happy to have a friend.
He wiped the smear of brown, goopy blood on his sword off on the zombie's shirt and re-sheathed it. The bakery he had slipped into was empty, aside from the now-dead owner; others must have gotten here first, strangled the owner, then cleaned the place out.
That the living could be just as dangerous as the mindless dead was terrifying.
There were ingredients for baking left behind – powdered sugar, corn starch, and five different kinds of flour – but he didn't know what, if anything, could be done with that stuff. He didn't know how to cook, and didn't have access to a working oven anyway. It wouldn't do to be weighed down with a ten-kilogram bag of powder that could be useless.
He stuffed a small bag of powdered sugar into his rucksack, then left the place. It had been a small bakery – just a counter and a register – so he had been hoping it had been missed when he went in. It was dawning on him now that nothing would be missed. Every single shop, convenience store, butcher shop, bakery, candy store – it would all be picked over and empty by now. He would have to go further, but as he looked up to the sky, he realized today wouldn't be the day for that. It was growing dark, and while his eyesight was good, he didn't want to be out at night, when visibility was low.
It was a pity he would return empty-handed, but as his eyes landed on the house next to the bakery, he thought perhaps he didn't have to.
Raiding people's houses wasn't something he had done yet in the two months since this had all begun. Something about it felt wrong; invading the sanctity of someone's home a line he didn't want to cross. But things would get harder before they got easier, and it would be something that would have to happen eventually, if he and Günter survived.
He would only go in if it were empty. He wouldn't take from the living, like that soup thief.
There was no way of knowing which houses were occupied or not – all the lights were out with no electricity, and people tended to keep visible movement to a minimum, and the one and only time he had caught the flicker of candlelight in a window, it was on a house with a prominent sign that read 'Keep Out – Trespassers, Dead Or Alive, Will Be Shot On Sight'.
Tachi shook his head at the memory.
America.
So he chose a house without any fencing or obstructions to the back yard, and slipped along the side of the house, peering in windows as he went. He found a back door and looked in the window next to it, and though he didn't see any signs of anything, he knocked on the door. Not loudly, but with how quiet the world had become since the dead took over, it was sure to be heard if there was anyone to hear it.
"Hello?" he called as he knocked again. "I'm human, I promise. Is anyone there?"
No response came, and nothing stirred in the view he had from the window.
"Hello?" he tried again, listening intently. If someone were in there, maybe they were checking him out, trying to determine if he was safe or not, or maybe they were holed up and hidden somewhere, and needed a second to get out, like Günter had. Or maybe the place was empty, and all he was doing was drawing the attention of the dead.
He tried the door handle. It was locked, of course, which he supposed was a good thing. It meant if there was someone in there, they could be safe and alive, having kept the zombies out – in which case he would apologize profusely and immediately leave. Or if the house was empty, it appeared as though no one else had gone in and looted the place already.
Either way, Tachi had never broken into a house before, and wasn't exactly sure how to go about it, short of breaking the window to reach through and unlock the door from the inside. Which is exactly what he did.
Inside was quiet, no one coming to greet him or fend him off or try to eat him. He made sure to shut the door behind him before calling out another tentative, "Hello? Is anybody here?" receiving no response. After a moment of listening, he took a deep breath.
He was going to do this. He was going to rob somebody's house.
Pantry first; that was where food would be. Locating a door that couldn't logically be anything else, he pulled it open to find himself faced with a stack of shallow shelves lined with boxes, cans, and bags.
"Yes," Tachi cheered to himself. Either other survivors hadn't been hitting houses at all, or they hadn't gotten to this one yet. He grabbed the first box his hand touched and ripped it open, yanking out a handful of cookies and shoving two of them into his mouth. The taste of almost-stale, mass-produced almond cookies had never been so good.
Popping another cookie into his mouth before the first ones were even swallowed, he grabbed another box off the shelf, looking at it as he chewed, and found it was a package of microwavable curry. When he spotted the twenty-kilogram bag of rice on the floor, he finally realized that it must have been Asians living here.
He laughed, then began to drag the bag of rice out of the pantry. It would be a pain to get it home, but it was the best thing he could have ever found. Rice was a staple food, easy to make and packed with the calories they desperately needed these days. After hefting the bag onto the kitchen counter to grab before leaving, he turned back to the pantry, stuffing boxes of whatever could be consumed without cooking into his pack. The bread was already green with mold, but crunchy, uncooked ramen would make a fine snack, and perhaps the seasoning packets could be used to flavor the rice for some variety. The instant curry would be edible even cold, and most of the cookies seemed fine, if a little stale. He had really hit the jackpot.
A 'thud' sounded overhead.
Tachi's hands and his heart stopped. He went stone still, breath frozen in his lungs, listening intently. And when the sound came again – a sound of footsteps, of someone or something moving about – everything revved back to life.
He should go. He should take what he had found and get out, go home, share his spoils and feast with Günter. But he couldn't. If that was a living person upstairs, someone who had been fighting to survive, then he would be stealing from them, taking their food – he may as well have been taking their life. He wasn't yet at the point where he was willing to harm someone else for his own gain, even if it meant going a little hungry himself. He didn't want to, but he had to go check it out. If it was the living, he would apologize and leave. If it was the dead...
He would put them out of their misery.
The sound seemed to be a repetitive 'thudding' as he made his way up the stairs to the home's second floor, and a blush warmed Tachi's cheeks as he wondered if maybe he had broken into the home of a couple enjoying intimate activities. He quickly shook the thought out of his mind, though – he couldn't even imagine being in the mood for that when the walking dead roamed right outside the door. Not even if he had a girlfriend.
... Okay, well, maybe if he had a girlfriend.
He followed the sound down a hall of closed doors, until he located where it was coming from. The thudding was against the door itself, which made it even less likely to be some living couple biding their time in bed.
He unsheathed his sword.
His left hand slowly reached for the door knob, part of him hoping a voice called out from inside the room, saying they had gotten stuck, the door was jammed and they couldn't get out, but they were alive and healthy. Another part of him said to just go, to grab the food and get out.
The door knob turned, not locked or jammed at all, and Tachi's heart sank.
As soon as he cracked the door open, he was faced with a clouded, dead eye, and a snarl. The thing didn't even get a chance to throw itself at the door – Tachi quickly raised his sword and stabbed it through the face, impaling its head.
Then he sighed. "Why did you have to be dead?"
He yanked his sword back, knocking the zombie's head against the door frame and pulling the blade free. The creature crumpled to the floor, blocking the door, but it didn't push back when Tachi gave a hefty shove and forced his way inside. He had only intended on getting food, but now that he thought about it, since he was here and he knew the homeowner was dead, it might not be a bad idea to look for some clean clothes. Rainwater only went so far for actually cleaning things, and his brights were no longer so bright, his whites long since being white. Something clean would definitely boost morale.
It was a bedroom he stepped into, though not one he would typically imagine for adults. It was a powder blue color, with fluffy, white clouds painted along the top border, a white dresser and – shit – a crib in one corner.
Tachi didn't want to look at it. He didn't even want to think about it, so he turned to the corpse on the floor. Sheathing his sword once more, he knelt down and turned the body over. It was a woman, maybe young, but decomposition had set in and distorted her features. Her skin had turned a brownish-yellow hue, her lips and gums receding. She was thin – more than that; she was skinny. He had seen plenty of zombies with their layers of fat still trapped in their sallow skin, like bags of oatmeal ready to spill. This woman looked like she hadn't had an ounce of fat left to her.
Heart heavy, Tachi looked over the corpse's body, lifting her shirt only to decent levels, checking her neck and hair and feet. There wasn't any blood or bite-marks on her, no blunt-force trauma or sign of injury. There were only skeletal wrists and sunken cheeks.
She had starved to death.
Hot tears pricked at Tachi's eyes, though he had thought he was done crying months ago. He just... didn't understand. "But... But you had food..." All that food downstairs, the food that was going to feed him and Günter, why didn't she eat that? Why wasn't she downstairs in the kitchen, instead of trapped up here, hiding in a bedroom? There was food, right there – all she had to do was step through the door.
But stepping outside proved to be too terrifying for some people. He supposed he knew that quite well. He had seen it; his now only living friend in the world had nearly died because of fear.
He had to get Günter outside.
At the current rate, if something happened to Tachi, Günter would be a goner too. Even if he survived, scavengable stuff was going to run out eventually. Unless they found a way to grow crops on their rooftops, they were going to have to leave the city.
He nodded to himself, decided.
Reaching out, Tachi slipped the corpse's eyes shut and said a little prayer for her. Then, with a sigh, he grabbed his sword from where he had laid it down, and stood up. Tonight, they would feast on curry and rice, and talk.
He turned to leave, tying his sword securely at his waist, where it belonged. Just as he was about to step through the doorway into the hallway, however, a tiny snarl came from the room's corner.
Slowly, Tachi turned, heart thudding painfully.
No. Please, please, no.
He turned back around, back into the bedroom. Stepping around the fallen corpse, he moved toward the crib on halting, reluctant steps, forcefully commanding one foot in front of the other. He didn't want to see what was in there, but he had to know – had to put what he feared he would find out of its misery, while praying it had just been a figment of his imagination.
As he drew closer and he was able to see over the railing of the crib, his heart dropped to the floor and shattered to pieces.
It was so small. Its little hands that should have been clutching something soft and bunny-shaped instead reaching like claws. Instead of crying with healthy, strong lungs, it snarled pathetically, hungrier than ever.
A sob escaped from Tachi's throat, and he smacked a hand over his mouth as his vision went blurry and wet. An age passed as he stared at the tragic bundle, its too-thin skin a sickening yellow, coursed with dark veins. It didn't appear to have any bite marks or other signs of distress on it, another unnecessary case of starvation. The baby must have died first – if the mother had, she would have eaten the poor thing, no concept of motherly love amongst the dead. It was slightly less tragic this way, he supposed, but tragic all the same.
As silent tears began to burn their way down his face, Tachi unsheathed his sword again.
He held up his bag and smiled brightly when the door opened, calling, "Dinner is served!" But as Günter stepped back to give him room to enter, the bag and Tachi's smile both slowly fell.
They regarded each other a moment, Günter's brows slanting up in concern, and Tachi knew he could never stand to lose this person.
His smile perked up again.
"I need you to do something for me, though."
I'm actually currently (slowly!) working on chapter 4, and just now realized that the first 3 chapters all end with Tachi saying something. ^^ I'm debating making that a consistent thing, but can't guarantee he's going to
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so happy to see you continuing this story! poor Tachi, having to do that. :(
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And, yeah, poor Tachi. ;__; I think of all my guys, he's the one who would be the most hurt at having to encounter something like that. (Which I promise is not the reason he had to; the story just dictated it! I am a pawn of the story's whims!)
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I went back to read the first part because I don't recall Tachi having a sword. I thought I'd missed something. ^^; I feel like Tachi should seriously consider the merits of a roof garden. I mean, it seems like zombies haven't quite figured out how to open doors yet, so a roof garden seems like a pretty viable option. Chance of survival seems about the same as trying to brave the zombie hordes at least.
Glad to see you're keeping up with the writing!
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I think Tachi would probably fail at a rooftop garden, but if Gü were in charge of it, they might have some luck. But I also think if they were to rely on whatever they could grow themselves, they might not have enough variety of foods? And, most importantly, if they could live off of a rooftop garden, there wouldn't be much of a story. ^^
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Well, plot needs must take precedence! And now I have an image of Günter clutching a pot of herbs that he cultivated while Tachi drags him through a horde of zombies. Sure, they might be trying to survive a post-apocalyptic disaster, but herbs makes food taste better. 😜
I'm looking forward to the hinted at gun fight!