Scavengers by Christopher Fulbright, Angeline Hawkes Page A
Authors: Christopher Fulbright, Angeline Hawkes
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shadows from bare branches fading into pools of darkness. Finally, she looked back at her would-be killer.
The coyote had stalked her through the forest she’d cut through on her way to Grand Prairie to avoid the population centers. She hadn’t even thought about the animal threat until she was well on her way, too far into the woods to turn back. Stupid, she chastised herself, because she didn’t even think back to the mailman in her own front yard who had been ravaged by an infected neighborhood dog. She didn’t put two and two together until the darkness of the woods echoed around her with stirrings of wildlife, making her wonder if they were living or infected.
Not like the coyote had to be infected to attack. It might have done so anyway, with all of the infected eating anything it might have otherwise been able to scavenge.
Scavenger turned predator, she thought as she looked at the skinny beast that had growled and lunged for her throat just moments ago. It looked sick.
A wave of emotion swept through her, blurring her vision with its suddenness and strength. She was angry at herself for feeling like she was once again on the verge of tears. Strength was the order of the day if she was going to make it to Selah. Breaking down into a mess of sentimentality wasn’t going to make the cut. Somehow, she’d been struck by a wave of empathy for the beast that had just attacked her. How its life of scavenging and killing small animals to eke out a normal everyday existence, had turned to a life of preying on anything that moved and didn’t smell foul, plagued with the raging infection. The fast-spreading virus changed its life completely in a matter of two days.
Just like her life had changed.
But she guessed anyone who was a survivor did whatever necessary to carry on, to make it through.
These things…these infected animals…these infected people…they’re trapped by this contagion. I’m doing them a favor by setting them free.
“How noble,” she muttered. Her voice came out unstable, wavering. It was too loud in the aftermath of the gunshot. But she wanted to believe this was right, what she was doing. By killing that man in the store, and now this animal. If it meant making it to Selah and saving her girl’s life, it was the right thing in a very selfish way. Nobility didn’t have a damn thing to do with it.
She stood, stashed the gun in the back of her pants, and slung the strap of the duffel bag across her chest again. With a groan, she tried not to think about the soreness of her shoulders from carrying the bag of supplies. She looked at the cheap car-dash compass she’d snagged at the convenience store, orienting herself to the direction she needed to reach Pioneer Parkway/303. She reasoned that the smaller highways would be less populated, and planned to take 303 over to Loop 12 and gauge whether or not it could be traveled. She thought the section south of where Loop 12 met Spur 408 would be sparsely populated. At least she hoped so. A big truck — or anything capable of pushing other vehicles out of the way if necessary — might be easy to find deserted on that road. Not really thinking about having to fight off flesh-eaters during all of this, are we?
“We’ll take it as it comes,” she muttered. Right now, here in the woods, she felt vulnerable, darkness and unknown creepers on every side. She focused on the compass and headed northeast.
Soon, she saw streetlights through the trees. The loamy scents of wet earth and rotting leaves drifted to her on a crisp breeze. When she neared the street, she crouched in the brush. It was a six-lane boulevard, deserted both ways, running north and south with a treed median in the middle. She followed the street for a few hundred yards to the north, realizing that it was Belt Line Road.
By some divine miracle, she’d come out just south of where she’d intended.
Unfortunately, to reach Pioneer Parkway, she needed to travel along
The coyote had stalked her through the forest she’d cut through on her way to Grand Prairie to avoid the population centers. She hadn’t even thought about the animal threat until she was well on her way, too far into the woods to turn back. Stupid, she chastised herself, because she didn’t even think back to the mailman in her own front yard who had been ravaged by an infected neighborhood dog. She didn’t put two and two together until the darkness of the woods echoed around her with stirrings of wildlife, making her wonder if they were living or infected.
Not like the coyote had to be infected to attack. It might have done so anyway, with all of the infected eating anything it might have otherwise been able to scavenge.
Scavenger turned predator, she thought as she looked at the skinny beast that had growled and lunged for her throat just moments ago. It looked sick.
A wave of emotion swept through her, blurring her vision with its suddenness and strength. She was angry at herself for feeling like she was once again on the verge of tears. Strength was the order of the day if she was going to make it to Selah. Breaking down into a mess of sentimentality wasn’t going to make the cut. Somehow, she’d been struck by a wave of empathy for the beast that had just attacked her. How its life of scavenging and killing small animals to eke out a normal everyday existence, had turned to a life of preying on anything that moved and didn’t smell foul, plagued with the raging infection. The fast-spreading virus changed its life completely in a matter of two days.
Just like her life had changed.
But she guessed anyone who was a survivor did whatever necessary to carry on, to make it through.
These things…these infected animals…these infected people…they’re trapped by this contagion. I’m doing them a favor by setting them free.
“How noble,” she muttered. Her voice came out unstable, wavering. It was too loud in the aftermath of the gunshot. But she wanted to believe this was right, what she was doing. By killing that man in the store, and now this animal. If it meant making it to Selah and saving her girl’s life, it was the right thing in a very selfish way. Nobility didn’t have a damn thing to do with it.
She stood, stashed the gun in the back of her pants, and slung the strap of the duffel bag across her chest again. With a groan, she tried not to think about the soreness of her shoulders from carrying the bag of supplies. She looked at the cheap car-dash compass she’d snagged at the convenience store, orienting herself to the direction she needed to reach Pioneer Parkway/303. She reasoned that the smaller highways would be less populated, and planned to take 303 over to Loop 12 and gauge whether or not it could be traveled. She thought the section south of where Loop 12 met Spur 408 would be sparsely populated. At least she hoped so. A big truck — or anything capable of pushing other vehicles out of the way if necessary — might be easy to find deserted on that road. Not really thinking about having to fight off flesh-eaters during all of this, are we?
“We’ll take it as it comes,” she muttered. Right now, here in the woods, she felt vulnerable, darkness and unknown creepers on every side. She focused on the compass and headed northeast.
Soon, she saw streetlights through the trees. The loamy scents of wet earth and rotting leaves drifted to her on a crisp breeze. When she neared the street, she crouched in the brush. It was a six-lane boulevard, deserted both ways, running north and south with a treed median in the middle. She followed the street for a few hundred yards to the north, realizing that it was Belt Line Road.
By some divine miracle, she’d come out just south of where she’d intended.
Unfortunately, to reach Pioneer Parkway, she needed to travel along
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