Age of Z: A Tale of Survival (30 page)

“Shouldn't have...” Alexa muttered under her breath. The words were barely audible and slurred, but Casey at least could make them out. “Not s'posed to...”

“I'm not supposed to what? Save your life? Care when you run off without a word when you're sick? Get worried?” Casey grit his teeth in frustration. “Too bad. Did anyway.”

“No.” Alexa seemed to be struggling very hard to form her thoughts into coherent sentences, and lifted her head just enough to look Casey in the eye. Even in the limited lighting the moon offered, Casey could see they were glassy and unfocused. But there was still a little life burning in them, and he knew whatever he wasn't supposed to do, Alexa felt very strongly about it–enough to crawl off to her own death.

“Not that... not s'posed to...
owe
me... ruin your life... goals... 'caus've me...” she coughed, hard, hacking violent coughs that caused her to wince in pain and curl over on her side, pressing her head back to the ground.

Casey put a hand on her back and rubbed it as gently as he could, mindful of how many vertebrae he could feel right now, and grimaced both in sympathy and frustration. When the coughing fit subsided, Alexa finished tiredly, “You gotta... live, LS...”

Casey's eyes widened at the revelation, and suddenly he understood why Alexa had been willing to pull this ridiculous stunt. Crazy as it seemed, Alexa thought she'd been helping, looking out for her friend with the twisted, bitter sort of logic that blossomed in this new age. She'd been certain she was holding Casey back, and when she became too much of a perceived burden, she'd removed herself from the equation.

It was also the stupidest thing he'd ever heard in his life, all three years and four months of it.

“You're an idiot, Alexa,” he growled. “You think I'm just putting up with you 'cause I owe you? 'Cause of some promise I made to Blake? You're wrong. I'm doing this because I want to, and because you're my friend. It's not a pointless risk. Your goal is finding your family. My goal is making sure you do find them, got it? And if you think I'm going to let you choose to just roll over and die before you see them again, you'd better think again!”

Even through her sickly haze, Alexa looked stunned at the declaration. For a moment her eyes were so wide and lifeless that Casey found himself irrationally afraid that Alexa had died and turned on him in the span of a single heartbeat. Then her exhausted, pain-filled expression shifted to a weak, watery smile, and she rasped low under her breath, “I... sorry, LS... I didn't...”

“I know you didn't,” Casey said, a little less harshly this time. “I know you didn't think it through, and I know you didn't mean it. Don't try this crap again, got it? Makes it a lot harder for me to reach
my
goal, and we both know you hate screwing that up.”

There was nothing more he could do here–he had to get Alexa back to their camp and the fire, try to warm her up in a safer place, get her ready for travel. He crouched to scoop Alexa up again, cradling her protectively close as he made for the window. Alexa's head flopped limply against his chest, and the teen let out a ragged breath before saying softly, “I'm already dead, LS.”

Casey froze.

“Glad you helped me,” Alexa added, in between painful sounding breaths. Her eyes were closed, like she was too tired to keep them open anymore, and her entire body was limp and unresponsive as Connor carried her. It seemed a chore for her even to speak, but she put all her efforts into it anyway.

“Really. Never woulda got this far 'thout you. We tried. Just... not gonna reach th'base in time. Not fast enough.” To Casey's horror, a weak smile slid into place on his friend's face for a moment, as if she found the whole thing morbidly funny.

Casey grit his teeth. His every instinct told him to move, but he had to pause for just a bit longer, sort this out. “I'm fast.”

“Yer... not fast enough... LS.”

They hurt, inexplicably, like a knife to the heart, but Casey ignored it. Alexa didn't mean anything by it, after all. “No. You don't know that.” He denied.

“Only s'much we can do, LS,” Alexa breathed tiredly. Her voice was getting fainter, and the way her heart was slowing, Casey suspected she was passing out.

Casey had had enough. He grimaced, then snarled, “It's enough. Listen to me, Alexa–listen!”

“Mmmph?”

“You aren't dead. You didn't get bit, which means you're still alive. And I don't care how impossible you think it sounds, I am getting you to that base, and you are going to survive, got it? You're not allowed to give up and die on me!”

Alexa's brow drew together in another frown, and for a bare fraction of a second, she looked angry. Her head twitched against Casey's chest for a moment, and finally she rasped with the rest of her strength, “I'll... try.”

Then she was gone, sinking into herself completely as exhaustion finally forced her under. If Casey hadn't been able to hear her heartbeat, or listen to her harsh breathing, he would have sworn he was holding just another dead body.

But he'd gotten it. He'd gotten Alexa to commit herself to the fight, one last time. And now he had a promise of his own to keep.

Casey barely remembered the trip back to their shelter; he'd been on auto-pilot, instinctively keeping an eye and an ear out for zoms while the rest of him retreated into his own head to plan. When he finally got back up to the second floor of the factory half an hour later, he barely had to think at all as he leaped into action, moving as quickly as he could to prepare everything for the journey.

The first step was Alexa, who was shivering badly in her soaked clothing. Casey built up the fire again for her sake, shook her awake just long enough to help her change into drier things from their supplies, and wrapped her up in every single jacket and blanket they owned. When she was taken care of and resting as well as she could by the fire, out cold once more, Casey shifted to their supplies.

He could carry all of it, if he had to, but it would lower the speed he could reach. At this point speed was far more important than supplies, so he dumped almost everything they owned, keeping only the most vital items: food, water, first aid kit, map, and the crowbar, which had proved to be a serviceable weapon and might still come in handy.

After a moment's hesitation he decided to keep a few of the lighter–but potentially valuable–supplies as trade goods as well. He wasn't sure if he'd have to barter for Alexa's care once they got to the base, but he'd rather have something of value on hand to guarantee his friend's safety.

He'd also found a tarp in the factory earlier, dirty and a bit tattered but serviceable, which he set aside as well in case it rained again–then he'd be able to wrap Alexa in it and keep the rain off while still running. At this point they couldn't afford to try and wait out the storms, not when every second counted for keeping her alive.

Everything else, he set aside in a neat pile in one corner. It was a veritable fortune of survival and trade goods, and if another traveler ever came past here hunting for shelter or scavenging they were going to be filthy rich. Casey hardly cared. As long as Alexa pulled through this, Casey would be willing to start over with absolutely nothing.

Soon everything was ready to go. Casey gave himself a single hour to rest; he could feel the first edges of fatigue creeping up on him, just barely, and did his best to ignore it. He wasn't going to be resting for a long time now, so he'd just have to get used to the feeling, and take the opportunity to rest while he could.

The hour was good for Alexa too, who desperately needed the chance to try and claw back even a few bare scraps of her rapidly dwindling strength. And she needed every scrap she could get, because if this next part of the trip was going to be difficult for Casey, it was going to be close to murder on Alexa.

Casey just hoped that didn't turn out to be literal.

The single hour passed with both obnoxious quickness and painful slowless. It was quick because he knew he needed the rest, and there just wasn't enough time for it: it was slow because he couldn't stop his mind from insisting that
they had to move, now!
But finally time was up, and gritting his teeth with grim determination, Casey stomped out the fire, shouldered his pack, and gathered an unconscious Alexa up in his arms.

And he ran.

It was the middle of the night, and even with the storm clouds finally past and the moon shedding a little light on the dead world beneath it, it was hard to see. Under normal circumstances Casey never would have even attempted to try traveling at night, not when he was at such a disadvantage compared to the zoms, and not with that death run he and Alexa had endured just a few weeks ago still fresh in his memories.

But Alexa didn't really have the luxury of wasting ten hours at a time waiting for the sun to come out again, not anymore. The rest barely did her any good, and all it did was cut a vast hunk of time out of their traveling. Night travel would be dangerous, but playing it safe would be fatal, and that wasn't a risk Casey was willing to take.

Besides, after that massive battle he'd had with the zoms in the dark, he was feeling a little more confident about his chances to keep them safe. This time at least he'd have the option of running away instead of standing and fighting, because the person he was shielding didn't need additional saving.

So he forced himself to run, and he pushed himself to his limits. He doubted he clocked in at the speeds that an automobile could have managed, but his speed was still impressive, and once he made it back to the freeways without as many obstructions he figured he was making good time.

Truthfully, despite the urgency of the situation, he found it almost...
exhilarating
... to cut loose like this. He'd never pushed himself fully to his limits before. Even in that zom run a few weeks back he'd been holding back to stay with Alexa and make sure his friend made it through okay, and his exhaustion then had been born just as much of stress as it was from exertion.

He'd had plenty of practice subduing his powers, but he'd never unleashed them fully, and it felt almost good to realize he was, at that moment, one of the most powerful things in the world.

The whole world dead or getting there, his best friend slowly dying in his arms, and he actually had the nerve to feel almost
happy
. If that wasn't messed up he didn't know what was.

Maybe he did belong to this world after all.

Still, that power had its benefits, and by the time dawn hit hours later he was miles away from the town where Alexa had nearly died. Casey hadn't stopped moving for a moment, and only once the light of the sun was fully bathing the world again did he slow down to a fast walk, giving himself a chance to rest a little.

He was breathing hard from the exertion, and he felt a little tired, but it was easy enough to push away and ignore as long as he eased up a little on himself. It was probably good for Alexa too, who looked exhausted even in her sleep, and could probably stand an hour of not being jostled around so much.

He kept to that pattern, walking for an hour to keep moving while letting himself and Alexa rest, and then pushing himself for three or four hours at the fastest speed he could manage. He managed keep up a wicked pace running, eating up the miles in a way Alexa probably would have found impressive if she'd been more aware of her surroundings.

Alexa was becoming even more of a concern for Casey than before, and by mid-afternoon he finally forced himself to stop completely for a couple of hours, for his friend's sake more than himself. Casey
was
starting to slow, and feel the ache in his muscles from trying to push himself for hours at a time, so the rest was probably good for him–but Alexa was doing far worse.

Most of her time was spent unconscious now, and it was getting harder and harder for Casey to wake her up, even for simple things like getting her to drink. When she did surface into awareness on her own, she was rarely lucid, and could barely focus long enough to answer simple questions.

She was hardly aware of her surroundings, or that she was being carried, or even of who was carrying her. When she recognized that somebody else was there at all, it was usually to address Casey by a name that wasn't his own.

It was a whole new level of alarming for Casey, who had already been shocked by the degree to which a person could fall apart when seriously ill, and that had just been the body–to see it affecting his friend's mind was more than a little frightening.

The few hours of rest didn't seem to help much, but they at least helped a little, giving Alexa enough time to recover a bit of strength after the run that had to be grueling on her. Casey managed to coax a little water into her, and a few bites of dried ration.

He even managed to even get an almost lucid conversation out of her, enough to insist that
she was going to be just fine and she'd better not give up yet or Casey was going to make her sorry
, which had prompted the tiniest quirk at the corner of Alexa's lips before she slipped into unconsciousness again.

Then the running, again, when they'd both had a chance to rest, and Casey pushed himself well into the night until he could barely force himself to run anymore. There were no less than three harrowing zombie encounters, most of which he managed to outrun and one of which had turned into a serious fight when he'd gotten them backed into a corner by taking the wrong turn at dusk, but they'd gotten out of all of them alive.