Garth made his way around the zoo, following the maps that had been edited by survivors. At each checkpoint, Garth noticed how what was once the “Education Center” was now the “Living Quarters” and many of the paddocks in the petting zoo were now labeled “Stockyard.” Garth found it ironic, that what was once a place of seeing animals trapped behind bars had become a place where those spectators were now trapped behind bars to keep the wild things outside.
Garth realized then that he, too, would have been a wild thing had he not come down to the zoo to warn them about that oncoming horde. Garth winced, and made the second realization of the moment: he might still become a wild thing if he didn’t hurry his ass up to the vet. As he reached the zoo’s administrative building, a guard with a wooden peg for a leg stopped him in his path. Before the guard could ask the question, his eyes had been drawn to the bloody bite marks on Garth’s forearm, already festering with pus.
“Down the hall, to the left,” the guard said with a deep voice and a curt nod before returning to his previous position. Garth nodded a thanks to the man and walked down to the vet’s office.
The door was a bright pink, and it was propped open. One woman was inside, laying down on a cot, sleeping. Garth noticed the wad of bandages wrapped around her hand, before seeing that the wrapping stopped asymmetrically from the other arm. She’s missing a hand. Garth looked around the room and saw nothing that piqued his interest. Presuming that the resting woman was not the veterinarian he needed to see, Garth took a seat underneath a poster promoting wildlife conservation efforts in sub-Saharan Africa.
Only a few moments passed before a young man with partially green hair walked in. He wore a lab coat, and his hair had grown out long enough that the ponytail on the back of his head was entirely green, leaving about half of the rest of it needing some kind of touch up.
The man, absorbed in a clipboard failed to notice Garth sitting in the clinic. Garth cleared his throat, causing the man to look up from the clipboard.
“You’re new,” the man says with a strange accent. “Who sent you?”
“Zombies did,” Garth replied, showing off his arm to the vet. The man’s eyes widened before saying that last thing Garth needed to hear.
“We’ve got a fifty-fifty shot here. How long ago were you bit?”
“Maybe twenty minutes ago? Sometime during the end of that ambush,” Garth answered. The vet nodded, before gesturing to the empty cot next to the woman.
“I’ll prep you for surgery. I’m sure you’ve realized that without a cure we’ll have to amputate?” the vet asked. Garth nodded sullenly. “Okay then, take off your shirt, sit back, and let Doctor Barrington take care of that bite.”
As soon as his shirt was off, Barrington approached with a syringe full of clear liquid.
“You’ll only feel a pinch, see you in a couple of hours,” the vet said before injecting Garth.
Four hours later, Garth awoke in the office. The lights had been dimmed, and he felt a grasp on his upper arm. Looking to his side, he registered Caeson’s presence and gave a small smile.
“Welcome back to the world of the living, Garth,” the boy said. A light laugh rang out from Garth’s other side.
“I still can’t forgive you for fucking up your shift at the park, but I’m glad you’re awake,” Scout said. Garth looked over and noticed that the sleeping woman was gone from the room and on her cot sat Scout, holding two cups of what looked to be cold coffee.
“I thought you’d be awake sooner, but it’s not bad chilled,” she said, holding out a cup. Garth reached out for the coffee with both hands, unsure of his steadiness. It was only once he saw the wrap of bandages in front of him did he remember why he was in the vet’s office in the first place.
Garth stopped reaching for the tepid coffee and examined the wrap. He held his arms together and realized just how much of his arm Barrington had cut off. With his uninjured arm, Garth felt around the bandages, and registered the stump underneath. He didn’t register the feeling of the joint that would connect his humerus to his ulna and radius. Thinking back to one of his playthroughs of a surgery video game, he recalled the term they used for one of the procedures: elbow disarticulation.
“Damn, that’s a lot of limb lost,” Garth said, unable to take his gaze from the gauze. Scout looked uneasy at the comment.
“Well, it’s not like we have much to work with,” she retorted, putting her hands on her hips. “Besides, you could’ve lost the whole thing like some of our first amputees, and most of those aren’t still around to talk about the process, what with the whole dying of shock and sepsis and blood loss. You at least still look good!”
Scout immediately started blushing as she realized what she’d just said.
“Not that I think you’re attractive, or anything, that is,” she stammered. “I just meant that you’re looking good in health and spirit, yeah!”
Scout left the room with Caeson following behind her, holding in a laugh. After a few minutes of silence, Barrington returned to the clinic.
“So our newest arrival is awake, I see,” he said in a chiming singsong voice. “Let me change your wrap really quick. Also, you need take this medicine for the pain. There’s some water for you on the table next to you.”
Barrington handed Garth a small paper cup with two pills inside. As the bandage was removed from Garth’s stump, Garth preoccupied himself with taking the drugs. He slowly lifted the cup to his lips before opening his mouth and quickly tipped back the pills onto his tongue. Before the pills could dissolve on his tongue, he grabbed the water and chugged the entire glass.
Once the water was depleted, Garth took another look at his arm. The new bandages were a fresh white shade. In his hands, Barrington carried the old ones to the waste receptacle. They were brown, mostly, with a bit of red here and there.
“I have to say, your recovery is going quite smoothly, Garth,” Barrington remarked. “I do have to keep you here overnight for observation though, and I’m terribly sorry about this.”
Barrington takes out a pair of handcuffs and locks his remaining wrist to the cot. His arm was kept level with his body to maintain blood flow, though Barrington didn’t feel a need to restrain his legs.
“Where’s the woman?” Garth asked, a rush of fear invading his brain, possibly as a side effect of the medication. Barrington shook his head.
The next morning, Garth awoke to find his wrist unlocked and a note on the bedside table:
You have been cleared by myself and the Lead Council to leave the clinic and move about the compound. Please find clean clothes at the back of the repurposed gift shop and make your way to the Penguin Pavilion for onboarding.
Garth remembered walking by the gift shop on his way to the clinic and retraced his steps as such. He felt especially vulnerable, realizing that he was surrounded by dozens- if not hundreds- of other people for the first time in months. After donning a repurposed staff polo and khaki shorts, Garth asked the guard on-duty how to get to the pavilion.
After only a couple minutes of hiking, Garth arrived- absentmindedly cradling his stump. A woman that certainly looked the part of a zookeeper- she sported a whole safari outfit, including a beige wide-brimmed hat that matched her romper and hiking boots.
“Greetings! You must be our newest survivor, Grant?” she asked, extending her right arm. Instinctively, Garth also reached out to shake her hand before freezing and remembering that he was now left-handed exclusively.
“It’s Garth, actually,” he said cautiously. The woman noticed the bandaged appendage and retracted her own, switching it for her left arm.
“My apologies, Garth,” she said. “I’m Dr. Evelyn Lang, thought most folks here call me Professor Penguin,” Garth shook her left hand with his own, not used to the experience. He had spent so much of his life doing things with his hands- video games, mostly- that he had taken his right-handedness for a given, an indisputable fact of his life. He wondered what else this would affect later.
The professor instructed Garth on his role as a new scavenger for the zoo: he would venture out with parties to collect supplies that couldn’t be farmed or otherwise found in the zoo anymore. She also informed him of his living arrangement. Every survivor slept in an indoors exhibit hall, and Garth would be placed in the Tropics building, which currently housed eight other survivors, including Caeson and Scout.
Since the last scavenging party had just returned a couple days previously, Garth wouldn’t be expected to head out for at least a few days. While Garth would have loved some downtime to play a video game for the first time in ages, he was not currently in possession of one, and the supply depot at the back of the gift shop didn’t have any. They did have several books, though, which Garth reluctantly took one of to read instead. It had a rather plain black cover with a small golden bird in the center. It looked short, but he also hadn’t read anything longer than a hint box since he was at the library after the disaster in the park.
The days passed, and he spent his time switching between talking with Scout and Caeson and reading what was turning out to be a very interesting plot in a cruel dystopia setting. Garth often stopped to think what it would be like to live in a post-apocalyptic world instead of in the middle of one. Perhaps he could someday help shape a future where the worries of zombie hordes would be as trivial as mosquitoes.
Finally the day arrived, and Garth left the zoo with the other scavengers, which included Scout. As the truck drove out of the back gates, and the driver took them through the upper neighborhoods, he and Scout talked. It didn’t matter what they spoke about, they just found themselves deep in conversation, every other story or opinion leading to a tangent that started another conversation.
“And then I realized that the horde was heading straight for the zoo,” Garth said. “Though, I guess it’s more accurate to say that someone had been leading that horde to the zoo,” Scout nodded in agreement.
“Whoever it was, they’re going to pay,” she said. “It was a miracle that the only casualty was your right arm. Well, that and our ammunition supply,” she looked down at her gun, loaded with only three bullets. Garth reached out and touched Scout’s upper arm and looked into her eyes.
“I have an idea of where they might be,” Garth said. After a few minutes of deliberating among themselves, the driver finally changed course and began driving to the nearest hospital north of the zoo. When they arrived, it was desolate except for a handful of zombies crawling around in hospital gowns. Even after a quick sweep there was no evidence of a survivor faction present. At least they collected a good amount of medical supplies for Barrington’s clinic. The driver would give them one more chance, at the other hospital on the northern side of the city.
Before they even breached the perimeter of the medical campus, a couple of bulky guards stopped their truck. They wore headbands with the same logo that he saw on the outfits of the man and his son that day of the attack.
“Name and business?” One of the guards asked the driver.
“I am Edwin,” the driver stated. “My friends and I have been looking for a place to rest for a while since our camp was overrun.”
The driver’s name was not Edwin, Garth knew that much- though he did just realize how little he knew about everyone else in the party outside of himself and Scout. For all he knew, the driver was a fellow survivor of the park massacre. Thankfully, the guards let the truck pass and they finally pulled into the circle drive where a small group of officials in white lab coats awaited them.
“The Medix Faction welcomes you,” said the man on the left. The woman on the right remained quiet, staring intensely at Garth and Scout. The man in the center nodded at the new arrivals.
“Indeed we do,” he said. “We always welcome those who need assistance,” he looks down and notices Garth’s bandage wrap. “Or those who need a hand.”
From Scout an anger bubbled up and over several days of repressed emotion. In a quick motion she threw a punch that landed squarely on the nose of the central man.
“Ow, what the fuck?” He cried out, holding his nose and bending over. The woman to the right presses one of her hands against the small of his back and reaches to the man’s chest and bends him upright.
“Remember, Reginald, you want to stop the blood from entering your airway,” she instructed calmly. Reginald stumbled in through the doors to the hospital’s emergency room, accompanied by the other man. The woman remained out front, flanked by two other personnel in white coats.
“I’m afraid I must ask you all to leave,” she said curtly, looking to the truck. “We do not tolerate such acts of violence, especially when they are unwarranted.”
“Trust me, bitch,” Scout said. “It was warranted when your horde attacked the zoo earlier this week.”
The woman was stunned, to say the least. The people flanking her took a couple steps back while she remained frozen in place, and her eyes darted between Garth and Scout.
“I’m terribly sorry about that misunderstanding,” she said condescendingly. “I assure you, we here have no control over the horde- our jobs are to run the campus and ensure safety and quality of life measures are being enforced for our survivors.”
“Excuse us?” said the driver. “You’re the Medix Faction leaders, are you not? How can you tell us that you have no control over the Medix Faction horde and expect us to just trust you?” He lifted up his rifle and takes aim at her. She slowly raised her hands in response.
“Now, I understand the stress of a situation like that, and I wish I had a way to prove to you that what I say is true,” she said calmly. “However you will have to trust me that our operations are divided quite efficiently and the team that runs the horde does not receive their orders from us here.”
“What are you even doing with a horde? I think that’s a better question to start with,” Scout asked. The woman pointed a finger at Scout and smiled.
“I don’t know, it wasn’t my decision to make, I only arrived to the campus a few weeks ago,” she said. “I’m quite lucky to have gotten to the position I’m in so quick.”
“Yeah, you’re either the luckiest woman in the apocalypse,” Garth replied. “Or the unluckiest, since you could just be a patsy for whatever front this faction puts out.”
Tension was thickening between the group as no one said a word for a solid minute.
“Arlena!” Cried out a voice from the hospital doors. “Reggie’s fine now, did you turn away those ne’er-do-wells?”
The other man from earlier joins Arlena outside and takes in the sight of the zoo survivors.
“I suppose you haven’t, then, seeing as these heathens are still standing here!” the man’s voice rose in anger.
“They survived the horde, Harold,” Arlena said. The man looks bewildered for a second, looking at each of the group before his eyes settled on Garth’s bandaged arm.
“You all were attacked by the horde?” Harold asked incredulously. “How did you survive fifty undead by yourselves?”
“Fifty?” Garth asked, this time he was the one looking in disbelief. “It was more like fifty-dozen and that’s a conservative estimate,” Garth spat out the words like they were a bitter grape. “I’d have wagered it’s probably upwards of a thousand, and it came down on a zoo full of people just trying to survive!”
“That’s not correct,” Harold said, wagging a wrinkled finger at Garth. “Team Delta has specific orders to only use the horde as defense during scavenging missions.”
“Overtaking a zoo full of people, outnumbering them twenty-to-one, is defense?” Scout exclaimed. “We were the ones defending our home, not that army of rotting flesh- we were lucky the only casualty was this one’s right arm!”
The conversation died right then, an acute silence grew in the pause as no one felt a desire to pop the bubble of tension that had been growing. Then the doors opened again, a robotic chime announcing the presence of another individual: Reginald. His nose was slightly crooked now, and stuffed with gauze. Garth supposed that whatever doctors remained in the hospital weren’t the seasoned residents that had been running floors and wings for decades.
“Reginald!” Arlena cried out. “What are you doing up? Your nose!”
“Arlie, it’s okay,” he said, reassuringly. “I overheard the commotion from the exam room. I must say that I can’t apologize enough for the trauma your camp must have gone through.”
Reginald looked between everyone standing in the circle drive before he opened his mouth again.
“I must talk to Team Alpha first, but I think we should establish an alliance with you all at the zoo,” he offered. Garth was taken aback at his audacity.
“You what?” Scout asked. “Your horde nearly overtook us and you want to ally with us?”
Reginald began speaking animatedly. “Of course! The operative word here is ‘nearly’ and with you being so outnumbered, clearly you have skills valuable to the Faction. And we love skills here, don’t we Team Beta?”
“Indeed, Reggie,” said Harold, nodding his head along. “And we have plenty of resources here- mostly medicine and labor.”
“We could offer food for trade- at least when the harvest comes in. We’re currently living off of butchered penguins and tropical fish,” Scout said. “Though likewise we’ll have to consult with our fellow survivors.”
The two groups agreed then, to meet in forty-eight hours at a neutral zone between the zoo and the hospital. The zoo’s party consisted of Professor Penguin, Scout, Garth, and a handful of guards and other essential personnel. They were met by Reginald and four other presumed leaders of the Medix Faction. The professor wasted no time in starting the negotiations, which lasted several hours.
As the last rays of sunlight disappeared behind the skyscrapers around the congregation, an agreement was reached. The Zoo would provide foodstuffs that the Medix Faction needed in exchange for medicine. The two groups would also host regular exchanges of survivors to fill gaps in skills required by each of them. To aid in this alliance, two members from the Medix Faction would permanently relocate to the zoo while Garth and Scout would permanently relocate to the hospital, and these individuals would be responsible for acting as points of contact between the hosts and the visitors.
After the groups reached this accord, Garth and Scout packed up their few belongings and led the first exchange of survivors and supplies from the zoo to the hospital. There, the two settled into their new roles as administrators.
After Garth realized how bored he would be behind a desk or sticking to the campus day in and day out, he offered to take on additional duties as a scavenger for the hospital. Team Alpha, though reluctant to make this concession due to the state of his arm, agreed to him joining a scavenging party on a probationary period during which he would be permitted to go out on a single scavenging mission every month until he proved capable of taking on more frequent supply runs.
Scout, as the only one between her and Garth that knew how to drive any kind of motorized vehicle, picked up additional duties in the form of transporting the Medix Faction’s supplies to the zoo, as well as transporting survivors from the zoo to the hospital. Due to the infrequency of Garth’s additional duties, he and Scout had no choice but to spend much time together on campus whenever there were no drives to be made to and from the zoo. Scout found herself enjoying his company more and more each day, and Garth was happy to have someone he called his friend.
~ The End ~
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