Age of Z: A Tale of Survival (25 page)

He'd also put some of the dried rations and one of the four good, non-rotting apples they'd found down in front of Alexa, as well as her water bottle, and the smell was so heavenly Alexa wasn't about to argue with that first part.

She sat up, still a little dizzy, and began making her way through her share of tonight's scavenged meal, although not nearly as fast as she usually did. Casey sat across from her and quietly ate his own half, although he never took his eyes off Alexa for a moment.

“Sleep,” Casey repeated, when Alexa had finished what passed for dinner.

Alexa shook her head. “No way,” she muttered. She was exhausted, and her head felt muddled and slow because of it and the illness combined, but she wasn't about to be babied–or cut out of doing her half of the work. “My turn for first watch, 'member? You sleep first, LS, you've been doing more today anyway.”

“I'm not tired,” Casey countered.

“Well neither am I,” Alexa bluffed.

Casey snorted. “Liar,” he shot back. “You can barely stay awake. And you're sick. I take first watch.” And when Alexa looked about to protest, he added, “I'll wake you later.”

Alexa grit her teeth at that, but Casey was being stubborn again, and it was hard to make him do anything he didn't want to even on a good day, which this was not. “Fine,” she agreed finally, “But you'd better really wake me, okay? This is a joint effort.”

“Sure,” Casey said, and dug through one of the packs, pulling out both of the blankets and tossing them in Alexa's direction. “Now sleep. I'll keep an ear out for zoms.” Alexa didn't argue further; she was already halfway gone as it was, and a bit of rest would do her wonders.

She dragged the blankets around herself–still not feeling warm enough–and slipped into a fitful sleep. It wasn't perfect, and she spent most of it tossing and turning, coughing, and shivering, but it had some effect, at least.

When she woke again she felt marginally better, her head was a little clearer, and while she figured she wouldn't be running any marathons in the near future at least her limbs could support her own weight. Then she realized she was seeing the first smudges of light on the horizon as dawn approached, and turned to give Casey an accusing stare. “You said you would wake me for my watch!”

“I lied,” Casey said flatly, without a trace of regret. The shadows under his eyes were a little darker than usual, but besides that he didn't look or sound all that different from before.

“You were supposed to switch with me!” Alexa said in frustration, pausing long enough to cough again. “You need the rest too, LS!”

“Tough. I didn't, and you need it more,” Casey answered. He didn't even sound angry, which was the weirdest part; his eyes were narrowed, but he sounded more unyielding with a trace of concern than anything else.

“I'm not the one that has to get us out of tough spots–”

“Are we in a tough spot right now? No,” Casey interrupted. “It's been zom-free all night. And when we are in tough spots, what do you tell me? We need me at the top of my game to escape. Well we need you at the top of your game too so you can make it to the base. I'm fine. And now you're looking a little better.”

“LS, really, you don't need to go and stay up all night on my account–”

“Yeah I do,” Casey shot back, and now there was a bit of anger in his tone. “I promised I'd look out for you, remember? You want me to explain to Blake that I let you run yourself to ground 'cause you were too stubborn to admit you were sick and had to take it easy? You know he'd never forgive either of us for that.”

Alexa grit her teeth, and admitted grudgingly, “Yeah, I guess you're right. Sorry. I do feel a little better, at least.” But inwardly she was becoming more and more frustrated with that stupid promise. She hoped Casey wouldn't take it too seriously–she didn't want Casey putting himself in danger or making himself sick, trying to protect a much weaker person. This was already bad enough.

The rest did help a little bit, at least–that much Alexa hadn't lied about. She was able to keep going for another few hours without any assistance, despite Casey watching her like a hawk. But by mid-afternoon she was starting to lag again, with her coughing fits growing worse once more, and her shivering increasing.

Casey did not seem happy to see this; he'd probably been hoping a single night of rest would help more than it did. Alexa hardly wanted to disappoint, but it was difficult to keep going. After a while she was forced to lean on Casey for support as they walked, and she was barely on her feet at all by the time they reached another abandoned suburban complex in the late afternoon.

She hadn't even realized how badly she was holding onto awareness until she realized it was darker, and Casey was carrying her up the stairs in somebody's abandoned house, and setting her down on one of the dusty but mostly intact beds upstairs.

She tried to ask what was going on, but her coughing started up again, and it was difficult to breathe, so Casey told her to shut up for a moment. The clone set down their packs and vanished, and for one horrible moment Alexa was convinced the clone was finally being smart and abandoning her.

Then she heard a lot of thudding and banging, and the floor shook slightly, and Alexa registered rather distantly that Casey was ripping out the stairs, making the second floor impossible to reach without jumping or climbing–things zoms didn't do.

The clone returned minutes later, and crouched down next to the mattress, pulling their blankets out of the packs again and tossing them over Alexa's shivering form. “I'm gonna go scavenge,” he told the sick teen. “I'll stay close, so if something happens, yell, okay? I'll hear it. Otherwise, just rest. I'll be back.”

Alexa blinked in surprise. “What?” she said intelligently, coughing hard, and then followed up with, “Wait, LS, you shouldn't go by yourself, I'll come with you–”

“No way,” Casey vetoed firmly, and when Alexa attempted to roll out of the makeshift bed anyway and stumble to her feet, it was child's play for the clone to place one hand on Alexa's shoulder and hold her down. “You're sick. Stay here. I'll know if you leave, and you know it. I'll find something for us to eat and be back.”

Alexa couldn't have argued if she tried; she could hardly talk without hacking by now, and it wasn't like she could compete with Casey's strength at the best of times. She nodded tiredly and added, “Stay safe.”

“Sure.” And Casey was gone.

Alexa hadn't even realized she'd dropped off to sleep until she felt herself being shaken awake. It was some time later, and she only knew that because the last hints of light were vanishing out of the bedroom window. She blinked blearily, and could just make out Casey's face in the gloom, hovering over her.

“Need to eat,” the clone said. “I didn't find much, but we've got some left over from yesterday too. Then you can go back to sleep.”

“Need to watch,” Alexa muttered tiredly.

“No. You're sleeping.”

“You can't stay up two nights in a row on top of all this,” Alexa protested, finding herself waking a little more at the thought. “It's not good for you either!”

“I know,” Casey said. “I did a quick patrol around the area. This place is small, I haven't seen any signs of zoms recently, and it seems safe enough. I also ripped out anything that would let zoms get up here, so it should be safe. Even if they do show up I'll hear them long before they get to us, and I can be up in time to keep watch. So we'll both rest tonight.”

“I can keep watch–”

“No you can't. Now eat up.” He left no room for argument, and Alexa, in between muttering and coughing, downed her meager dinner and flopped back down on the mattress. Sleep came for her quickly, and the last thing she was aware of was Casey stepping around the bed and settling down sitting upright near the window. Then it was dark and she sunk into another fitful but relieving rest.

Travel after that fell into much the same pattern. Alexa would wake up a little more refreshed than the previous day, and spend the first few hours of their journey moving under her own power. But inevitably her strength would be sapped away before too long, and she would be forced to lean on Casey for the support, or stop for a break.

When they were caught by zoms–still far too often for their tastes–Casey didn't even bother to ask anymore before scooping Alexa up and bolting. Disgusted as she was to admit it, Alexa had to agree it was the right choice–she just didn't have it in her to outrun even the
walking
dead anymore.

Casey would inevitably halt their progress long before dusk, usually whenever he found the first relatively safe structure to act as a shelter. He would modify until it was safe enough for him to leave Alexa there to rest while he hunted down supplies and scouted the area for zombies.

Sometimes he would come back looking grim but satisfied, which inevitably meant he had smashed in a few zom heads, and sometimes he'd return looking concerned, collect Alexa, and leave while the going was still good for the both of them. They'd find another shelter, rinse, and repeat.

Sometimes if the place was relatively safe they'd both rest for the night; if it seemed more dangerous Casey would usually stay up to keep watch, for all Alexa's protests to the contrary and insistence that she should help.

Alexa hated every minute of it. Most of it was largely because being sick in general was miserable, and being sick during the apocalypse in no-man's land was infinitely more so. But there was more to it than that, because the longer the pattern held, the worse Alexa felt in ways that had nothing at all to do with her illness.

If she'd been useless before, she was absolutely dead weight now, sometimes even literally when Casey was forced to carry her to their next destination or away from hunting zombies. She was too weak to participate in foraging and hunting and scavenging anymore, forcing Casey to leave her behind in relatively secure locations for longer and longer periods of time, as he struggled by himself to find the necessary food and supplies.

That also cut into their travel time, when Casey had to do all the hunting and searching on his own, and Alexa was already slowing them down simply by being sick and unable to move quickly, meaning they were barely moving at all by this point.

Sometimes when the weather got worse–another day of storms, or passing rain-showers–they couldn't afford to move at all, because Alexa would certainly get worse if exposed again to the rain and the cold. It meant they were locked up in a makeshift shelter for another day without moving, while the surrounding area had already been picked clean of anything useful.

As if that wasn't bad enough, it had been like a punch to the gut when Alexa discovered, five days after Casey confronted her about her illness, that sometimes the clone hadn't even been able to find enough food for the both of them, in which case he gave it all to Alexa because she was sick and he wasn't.

He neatly deflected Alexa's frantic, cough-interspersed questions and accusations over the matter with unrepentant, unconcerned responses like “I'm not hungry” or “I already ate” or “I don't need it anyway”. But Alexa couldn't help but feel like she was stealing all the same, even if she had no choice in the matter.

The worst of it all was, for all of Casey's efforts, despite taking all of their responsibilities and sacrificing some of his own needs in the process, Alexa still wasn't getting better; she was certainly getting worse. Her coughing increased, as did the shortness of breath, and lately when she tried to take deeper breaths there was a sharp, stabbing pain in her chest that left her aching and curling up on herself.

Her shaking increased, and she was nearly always chilly, but frequently found herself sweating at the same time. When asked, Casey reported grimly that her temperature appeared to have risen further, which meant that her fever had likely gotten worse.

She sometimes got nasty headaches, which were only slightly relieved with the aspirin in the first aid kit. She was almost always tired now, even after resting for hours, and her strength drained away even faster than before when they had to start traveling again, to the point where Casey was spending more and more time carrying her and less and less time just helping her walk.

Alexa couldn't claim to be an expert on illness, but she knew the basics at least. When her mind was feeling less hazy and she was able to focus better, she tried to diagnose herself. She knew she'd gone beyond just a common cold, but she wasn't showing flu symptoms either.

Most of her current symptoms were suspiciously in line with pneumonia, which sent a chill that was not related at all to her fever up her spine when she finally realized it. If she was dealing with pneumonia, she was pretty sure she was screwed.

Back before Z-day, simple cases could be treated fairly easily. Unfortunately for Alexa, nothing was easy these days, and pneumonia could be deadly even before the apocalypse.

For the first time Alexa began to wonder if she was going to walk away from this at all. Statistically speaking her chances were extremely poor, which was not a comforting thought. But she kept her observations and thoughts to herself, at least for the moment, and tried her hardest to recover, resting when Casey told her to, drinking often, and trying to preserve her strength for the journey.

For all her guilt and frustration at causing Casey so much trouble, she very much didn't want to die. She'd promised herself that she was going to live until she found her family again, and she had a hint now, a goal that they were moving towards, and she couldn't give up on that, no matter how much it hurt to do so. So she held on with everything she had, struggled to keep going, to fight, to keep breathing for one more day with Casey's help.