Tracey Ward - Writing on the Wall

It happened at Christmas. Quite a time for the world to end, but if we could pick and choose when Hell unhinged its jaw and tried to swallow us whole, wed probably pick never.

As it is, I suppose it could have been worse. Being nine years old and watching your neighbor break through the sliding glass door like it was made of paper isnt the most traumatizing thing ever. His blood spurting from shredded wounds and dead vacant eyes that somehow still see you, really see you? You can come back from that. After a few weeks Id even get over the black blood that dripped onto my brand new Cabbage Patch Doll with the blond hair and pretty, smiling eyes. Its fine. Thats all fine.

What you dont come back from is watching him eat your parents. Literally, honestly, violently eat your parents. I saw it. All of it. Huddled behind the Christmas tree, peaking out through the fragrant green needles and soft glow of the multicolored lights, I watched it happen. And I remember. The sounds, the sight, the smell. Ill never forget. Nearly ten years later I can relive it with perfect clarity, but I seriously try not to. Life is horrifying enough. I dont need to borrow on past troubles.

Today my trouble is a wolf. Have wolves ever really been an issue in downtown Seattle before? I dont know, I was just a kid when crazy came to town, but Im willing to bet not. Theyre everywhere now. A lot of animals are. The city has become a wilderness in a whole new way. Used to be you had to worry about walking alone at night because you might get jumped by a member of a gang or a desperate soul pushed to the limit. Now you have to worry about getting jumped by an animal in a pack or a starving zombie desperate for your brain, not your wallet. There really arent that many of them left anymore, though. I mean, theyre around, dont be fooled and dont be stupid. Im just saying its not like it was. Not like in the beginning. But right now Im pretty sure the wolves outnumber the dead.

This one is a dark gray color, long and lithe. Hed be pretty if he werent so deadly. And if he werent in my way. I need to get out and get fresh water from one of the rain traps Ive set up on other buildings farther out. I make sure to never do it on my own building aside from one small hidden bucket for emergencies. Its about half full but Im thirsty and its getting late.

Im standing in the dark entryway of my building watching the animal wander the street, sniffing the knee high grass growing through cracks in the asphalt. The roads are a mess these days. Really makes me wonder where our tax dollars are going. Im just about to step out and make a break for it while his back is turned when I catch movement in another doorway farther down the street. I freeze, waiting and watching, barely breathing. It moves again, too tall to be an animal and too precise to be a zombie. Its another person. This bothers me more than anything else. I shrink back farther into the shadows, making sure Im completely hidden, and I watch to see what the guys plan is.

I know its a man. Not from any details of his outline or instinct or scent on the wind. I know it because statistically its probably true. There arent many women out here in the wild, not anymore. Most of us either died or entered the Colonies, of which there are too many if you ask me. There are several spread all over the city with hundreds of people in each one which to me sounds like a great way to spread the virus some more. Really bring on the second coming. Im one of the few people, male or female, doing it alone and being a woman on the outside is not ideal. In fact, its downright dangerous and some of us cant make it. There are a lot of predators out here and odds are one of them will get you eventually.

Numbers dont lie.

So thats how I just know this shadow messing with my plans is a guy. Probably part of a pack of his own, the thought of which makes me drop yet another step back into my building. Im a girl stuck in Neverland with The Lost Boys. Im no Wendy, I can hold my own and I dont need to wait around for Peter to save me, but Im also not an idiot. I know my enemies.

After what feels like forever, he finally makes his move. The shadow rushes quickly and surprisingly stealthily through the tangle of weeds, grass and ravaged cars until hes directly behind the animal. I shake my head at how utterly stupid a move this is and youre about to see why.

The wind shifts. The wolf smells him now and hes on alert, his haunches going up, his teeth becoming exposed. He turns slowly toward the guy. Theres a long tense moment while they watch each other, neither moving a single muscle. My own muscles ache just from watching and I realize that Im crouched down, either ready to fight or spring into a sprint.

Fight or flight. I think. Come on, guy, whats it going to be?

Color me every shade of the rainbow surprised when he picks fight. Hes either crazy brave or just plain crazy. He runs at the wolf and I catch a glint of steel flash against the failing light of the day. Hes got a knife. It better be pretty big and he better be unbelievably fast with it. Im trying to sort out why he would even attack this animal in the first place when they collide. The wolf snarls as the guy grunts, then they hit the ground and I cant see them anymore. Now would be a spectacular time for me to get out of here. To either go upstairs, lay low and make do with my emergency water rations or head for the hills and find more.

Im scanning the sidewalk, surprised its still clear, and leaning toward the water idea when the guy cries out in agony. The sound makes me cringe and instantly hate myself for it. You learn not to empathize here in this mad new world. Sympathy will only get you killed. But something about the sound gets to me and I hesitate. Hes going to lose. He is going to die and the wolf is alone, meaning he wont eat all of him. Either many more wolves will be here helping him feast when I get back, this guys buddies will be here cleaning up the mess of his desecrated body or the infected will have descended. No matter how you slice it, if he dies on my front porch like this, Im not making it back in this building tonight. And with the possibility of Lost Boys this close to home, I probably wont ever return.

I swear under my breath, thoroughly pissed off. But Im also trapped. I have to either do something or go back inside and be prepared to wait it out. Without water thats going to suck. So I do the one thing I really do not want to do.

I save a mans life.

I reluctantly pull out my knife as I silently close the distance between myself, animal and idiot. From a distance I thought the wolf was pretty but up close its beautiful. It makes me even angrier that I have to do this. Theres not much beauty left in the world, Id rather leave it when I can find it. Like walking around a flower somehow blooming in the broken pavement of a desolate road.

I roll up on the wolf in his blind spot, his eye covered by the guys one good hand thats trying desperately to keep dripping, gnashing teeth out of his jugular. It strikes me that it doesnt look that much different from fighting a Risen. His other arm is a bloody mess pressed against the animals chest, coating his fur in red.

When Im within striking range, I slash at the wolfs side. My knife goes in easy because if I do anything in this world right, its keep my weapons deadly. But I make sure not to sink the blade too deeply. Ive decided I wont kill it, a decision that is incredibly stupid but one I can sleep with tonight. I dont want to kill it. I want it to keep running its patrols with its pack, keeping infected and Lost Boys at bay. Ive only grazed it, only grabbed its attention, and even though its probably a really bad choice, I dont regret it. Not yet, anyway.