Age of Z: A Tale of Survival (7 page)

LS actually grimaced at that one, which was a sign of just how gruesome life had gotten, and how desensitized to it Alexa was getting. If the world ever went right again she wondered if she'd actually be okay in it. She really wasn't sure.

During other points in their travel, Alexa filled in the blank spots for LS's non-existent memories of the last three years. She gave him brief history lessons on what she remembered going on before Z-day hit, and how everything had gone downhill after that. Most of the information for the past two years or so came from rumors and hearsay, and originated only from the areas of the country she'd been to.

“International communications sort of died,” Alexa explained, at LS's confusion. “I haven't heard anything about outside the US. Not much of a way to stay in contact with other countries. Things could be completely fine over there and we'd never know. Only the military-operated settlements have any degree of consistent communications and they don't really have much to say to the civilian-controlled refuge areas.” Alexa's disgust was only barely controlled on that last line.

LS frowned. “You're not fond of the military.”

“Not really. They sort of screwed things up a lot. The government and the military spent so much time throwing fits over who should have command and the best course of action that by the time they realized they were all being idiots, it was too late.”

She shrugged. “The outbreak was beyond control. So then they started this terrible campaign over on the western side of the country, trying to use the mountain range there as a natural barrier, and basically threw the entirety of central and eastern U.S. to the wolves.”

LS's frown grew noticeably deeper, and he did not seem particularly pleased at this show of cowardice or weakness. But all he said was, “But we're on the East Coast, and there are still settlements here.”

Alexa grinned. “I told you, people are survivors! There's about eight or nine major hubs of safety on our side of the boundary line that are run by some very innovative former civilians. They figured out ways to keep people alive and kept doing it. Plus there's hundreds of smaller areas scattered around, where little groups and family units and trading posts and stuff manage to hold out.”

LS seemed impressed. Although it was clear he wasn't entirely comfortable with the way the entire world had changed on him seemingly overnight, it was clear he was starting to adapt to it.

LS, for his part, adapted rather well to the apocalyptic era in more than one way. Now that he was familiar with the sounds of zombies and the way they hunted, it was easy for him to identify approaching zoms with his hearing long before they were in visual range, meaning the two of them could break camp and bolt for it before things really became dangerous.

His strength was an enormous asset as well. He could easily shift aside obstacles blocking their path, tear his way into blocked or locked buildings for shelter, or even smash stairwells, with effort, to prevent any particularly determined zombies from reaching them.

In the rare event that they were forced to fight for their lives, he had a bad habit of breaking most of the makeshift weapons they came across–golf clubs, baseball bats, and even pipes and two-by-fours frequently fell victim to his overpowered swings. But that became sort of negligible when he could also pick up entire motorcycles
,
and fling them at the walking dead from a safe distance, knocking down entire groups of zoms in one shot.

The first time he'd done that had actually been pretty epic. Enough so for Alexa to give him ten minutes of smug satisfaction before reaming him out for staying to fight instead of running like he was supposed to.

Traveling with LS definitely made things a lot safer, and that wasn't even taking into account the added benefits of having a traveling partner in general. Sure, it was a little harder to feed themselves, with two mouths and not one to look after, and they had to spend a lot more than Alexa was used to hunting or foraging for food.

It dragged out her usually three-week trip along this route to a full month, and some of the longer stretches they were forced to take when they couldn't find enough supplies were... uncomfortable.

But mostly the benefits were worth it. With two people, they had two sets of eyes and ears keeping watch for danger and supplies and safe campsites. They could help each other with hunting, foraging, and scavenging, or one of them could keep up a careful guard while the other could focus one hundred percent of their attention on a task.

Best of all, they could take watch shifts at night, meaning hours of real rest without having to stay partly awake the whole time, listening for tell-tale moans or other signs of danger.

Alexa trusted LS to watch her back, and she was pretty sure he trusted her the same way, which was depressingly uncommon in this day and age.

Survival was all that mattered, the world was dog-eat-dog, and it was rare to find a traveling companion that you could actually trust to not stab you in your sleep and run off with your supplies. But they didn't have to worry about that with each other, and between Alexa's knowledge and LS's abilities they made a very impressive and efficient traveling team.

And because of that ease and efficiency, and the month-long journey, Alexa had plenty of time to start getting to know her friend on a more personal level.

It was gradual, and difficult to manage at first, because initially LS didn't
have
much of a personal level. Alexa had long since determined he was intended as either some sort of super-soldier, or a weapon for something more sinister, and it was fairly obvious the more time she spent with the clone that LS had been allowed to know of and think of nothing outside of what was necessary for that job.

It meant he had no favorites, no personality quirks, and no notable character traits to define himself as, well, himself
.
Even his language at first had been exquisitely precise, like somebody had dumped half a dozen advanced-level English textbooks into his head but forgot to make note of colloquialisms or cultural impacts.

But eventually as the days passed, Alexa was intrigued to see more of a person forming, as the robotic biological weapon facade gradually faded away.

At first it was noticeable with LS's speech, in the way he started using contractions with less studied precision and more growing casualness, and adopted Alexa's slang. Then with personality, as he started forming his own interests and quirks, became less and less a cloned weapon and more and more a person
.

He was overconfident and aggressive and enjoyed fighting, but less because he felt he had to and more because he liked to. He didn't like admitting to having any form of weakness, often denying being tired or hungry after a particularly large expenditure of his stamina on given days, hinting at a great deal of pride.

He also hated failing at anything, and in what Alexa suspected was a related issue, he was oddly, tentatively responsive to praise when he did something particularly well–like he was never entirely sure how to take it, but found he sort of enjoyed it.

He enjoyed the taste of rabbit and the wild apples they'd occasionally found in overgrown orchards, but disliked venison and some of the more bitter edible plants they came across. He also had a fondness for animals, though he tried hard to hide it; Alexa often noted with amusement the way he'd watch feral dogs and cats in the cities, or deer and foxes in the wilderness.

LS was surprisingly smart, too, once Alexa managed to get him into a conversation. The teenager spent the first few days of their travel picking the clone's brain, trying to figure out how far his understanding of the world had gone before Z-day.

He had an odd habit of appearing to zone out for a moment, staring blankly ahead, when he was questioned about world events, before abruptly reciting a stream of succinct, analyzed information perfectly relevant to the topic. It was almost like the way computers would pause for a moment as they opened up files, and seeing a person do it was a little creepy at first, but she eventually got used to it.

LS apparently had a
lot
of files in his head. Alexa soon realized that he could accurately summarize world history all the way up to a month before Z-day, correctly analyzing all political, social, economical, religious, and military aspects like he was reading straight out of a textbook

Even stranger was that sometimes, after reciting a particular batch of history–especially after the more social or cultural moments, like race riots, country divisions, or particularly cruel acts done in the name of a god or idealized concept–he would pause and question why it had even happened, as though he didn't understand the thoughts behind what he'd just recited.

He had a surprisingly firm understanding of military strategy, modern military weaponry, vehicles, and their workings, all locked away in his head. And he spoke at least five active languages fluently, as well as comprehending a few dead ones.

It was a baffling amount of information, and Alexa was at first inclined to think that Gentech had wanted their clone to be super-intelligent as well. Except the more she questioned him the more she started to realize there was something else at work with all the information they'd dumped into his head, and she didn't think it was intended to be for LS's benefit.

For starters he didn't seem entirely capable of utilizing much of the information in his mind; he rarely bothered with combat strategy when they fought zombies, nor had he learned to interpret half of the textbooks scrawled in his head.

It was more like it was there for show, less for him to access it. To Alexa that meant one thing: he wasn't the one intended to make any of the decisions based around the knowledge given to him, and was only supposed to know enough to react, if necessary.

More frightening to Alexa was the specific nature of LS's knowledge, because unless it directly related to military history or languages or other related topics, he had only a middle school level understanding of things like mathematics, sciences, literature, and the like.

One could argue that everything LS had been educated with would aid with 'public relations'. But Alexa thought it also sounded suspiciously like preparing a particularly strong and dangerous person for military combat... or maybe they'd just skip the pretense and go straight to turning him into a tool for some seriously dangerous blitzkriegs.

It was a scary thought, and Alexa had to remind herself that LS wasn't going to have to do anything like that anymore. He was allowed to make his own choices, and he wasn't being experimented on or abandoned by Gentech anymore. Everything would be okay. Totally okay.

All the same, she couldn't help but feel protective of the clone, determined to keep him away from those crazy scientists if they ever showed their faces again. And she kept her suspicions to herself–LS had been through enough already without having to wonder about the
what if's
of his purpose, especially since it still seemed to concern him so much.

There was more to LS too, although they were subtle things. He wasn't much of a talker, and unless Alexa directly asked him something he was usually pretty quiet. But it wasn't in a bad way–Alexa found he was an exceptional listener, always paying attention even when he didn't appear to be, and he didn't seem to mind her often inane chatter.

It was sort of nice, because back before Z-day Alexa was often lectured with anything from amusement to exasperation to irritation about how she was a chatterbox that talked too fast and too often for her own good. But LS didn't seem to mind and didn't interrupt her, which made them pretty good company for each other.

And Alexa chattered a
lot,
because she couldn't help it; after being alone for three years, for the most part, it was nice to have someone besides herself to talk to. When she wasn't giving lectures or lessons on surviving the apocalypse she usually rambled on about mundane things, whatever was on her mind at the time.

Sometimes they were weird stories ever since Z-day–the strange things she'd seen, the dumb things she'd seen people do, and the rare moments of humor that could be found. More often they were things that she remembered from before the outbreak: her favorite movies, bands, video games, foods and shows, her old science projects and experiments, the places she'd gone on vacation.

It was during one of her rambling sessions that she discovered another subtle trait LS possessed: he could be oddly observant when he wanted to be. Alexa had been explaining enthusiastically about how her mother made the best lasagna, how she made it
perfect
like no one else could and the taste was to die for, when LS interrupted with, “You talk about them a lot.”

“Lasagna?”

“Your family,” the clone clarified. “You mention them a lot, in your stories.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Alexa looked away, a little downcast and a little embarrassed; she hadn't meant to go overboard.

LS growled in frustration and after a moment managed to mutter, “No, I... sorry, I didn't mean it like that.” He looked a little put out; Alexa had discovered he was pretty terrible at apologizing, too.

Then his usual frown softened a little, his shoulders shifted uncomfortably, and he added, “It's just, you really miss them, don't you?”

“I...” Alexa hesitated for a moment, but there was no point lying about it. She did miss them terribly, and there wasn't a day that went by that she didn't wonder if they were still alive or worry that they might be hurt or scared or worried about her and she couldn't do anything to stop it.