Those that did bothered her, though, reminding her of the dead soldiers from the APC. They were completely motionless and looked as dead as they were. A person could walk right up to them without realizing it and be seized before they knew what was happening.
When she was only two blocks from the clinic, she saw something that filled her with fear in a way none of the others had. She’d ducked into a small alcove to avoid a knot of them that had turned onto the street, crouching down and watching them through spaces in the brick wall that formed the nook, when he appeared.
Walking normally, though clearly dead by the way strips of flesh hung from his face, the terrible figure moved down the street with purpose. He wore a mechanic's uniform, the name “Pete” stenciled on the breast, and had long blond hair. Unlike Marco, he moved through the dead as if they weren't even there, most of them shuffling out of his path as he approached.
He’d stopped in the street for a moment, looking up at the sun then back down the street. After a moment, hands on his hips, he seemed to grow frustrated and went to one of the many abandoned cars littering the road. He searched them carefully, but eventually returned to the center of the street.
Grabbing the nearest dead, he threw it down, saying, "Goddamn apocalypse, and none of you bastards think to leave your keys in your car. Useless, all of you."
Bunny hunkered lower, this one filling her with a sense of dread. Something about him was different, even from Marco. Somehow, she knew, if he saw her, he wouldn't hesitate to kill her.
"Fine," he said at last. "I'll just walk all the way there. None of you seem particularly helpful."
With that, he set off again, soon vanishing from sight. As she watched, in his wake, the dead followed, shifting and trailing after him. Soon, the street was clear and as she slipped from her hiding place, she had to wonder why.
Did they sense a superior being in him? The ones that Marco had fought appeared afraid or uncertain towards him. With this one, it was more like dogs, following their master wherever he went.
Bunny hoped she wouldn't have to find out but had a bad feeling that he was going to be trouble. She sensed it, tickling at her, that she would see him again. Worse than that, she feared that death had a new name.
Pete.
The sun was dipping towards the horizon by the time she got back to the clinic, walking down the alley, hefting the duffel bag as she approached the fence. Marco didn't bother keeping the padlock on the gate closed, as none of the dead seemed smart enough to open it, something she knew she would need to correct him on soon.
Stepping into the yard, she saw Rosa and Marco coming out to greet her then pausing when they saw her alone. She said nothing as she moved past them, dropping the duffel in the car and heading inside.
"Bunny?" Rosa called. "Where's Peyton?"
"He had an accident," Bunny told her.
"What kind of accident?" Marco asked.
"The fatal kind," Bunny replied. "And lock the gate. Some of them are smarter than you think."
Walking inside, she made her way upstairs and to the bathroom, stripping off her clothes and heading for the shower. She felt dirty knowing no amount of water would wash it away. She felt tired aware that no amount of sleep would revive her.
Standing under the hot spray, she finally let herself think about what she’d done. It wasn't easy, because with those thoughts came thoughts of what Peyton had tried to do. With that came memories she didn't want.
She pushed those back down, refusing to deal with them now. It was enough that Peyton had tried to rape her, anything more right now, and she somehow doubted she'd be able to deal with it. Because he’d only tried, and she had stopped him.
Stopped him, yes, she thought. And left him to die. Left him to be eaten alive by those things out there. She had turned her back and walked away as he had screamed, and she hadn't felt bad about it.
Was this what she was becoming? Was this what would be required of her if she was to live? To survive in a world of monsters, did you have to become a monster as well?
Must she choose between being a martyr and a monster? Was this all that was left in the new world of the dead? To die, or sacrifice everything to live?
She was crying before she realized it, planting a hand on the shower wall to steady herself. He’d been crazy, yes. Dangerous to others, obviously. But he had been alive, and she’d turned her back.
It wasn't that simple and she knew it. Since this had started, she'd done things she had avoided dealing with. Sheila, Marty, Carl, and Amy. People she’d known, some of them for years. Whether or not she’d liked them wasn't the issue. She had killed them.
They were already dead, she told herself. She had done them a favor. Ended their suffering. It was an easy argument to make, really. Clearly, no one would want to go on like that. Who would?
There had been no other choice, she thought. It had been do or die. Faced with that choice, who wouldn't kill to survive? Anyone would, she knew.
Overwhelmed, Bunny sank to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. It was all just too much to handle for anyone. The life and death choices, the horror, the simple reality of the situation. The terrible realization that she would do whatever it took to survive, even if it meant leaving someone to die.
In that moment, Bunny knew, she had died
