10 onions. That should be enough for a while.
Crouched in the overgrown grass, Tigress took a moment to feel the gentle breeze as it blew through the mess that had once been a park. It had been six months, yet she still appreciated the delicious purity of the air, a scent that before the apocalypse only drifted into towns from far-off places. A town…she raised her eyes and looked sadly at what had replaced it.
The houses, neglected, had darkened in shade as if to reflect the tight-lipped and grief-swallowing moods of the few that survived,the few that did not grope around after nightfall when the sun was no longer there to burn their shrivelled, purpling skin, the few whose thoughts did not consist solely of a burning desire to gnaw on human flesh, who thought instead of those they’d lost and what how they would eat tomorrow. Vines crept over fences, wound around gates, slithered over roads and suffocated the long necks of streetlamps that would never shine again.
She turned away and focused on the gentle caress of the zephyr. Then, a few minutes later, she rose reluctantly, knowing that time spent outside the walled yard and the bunker it protected was time exposed to the zombies. Moreover, Octavia was waiting for the onions.
The sound of footsteps drew her gaze upwards.
"Huh?"
A man was striding towards her purposefully. His black boots squashed the bright green grass; when he moved on, the grass rose broken and bleeding. Grasped in one hand was a knife. The hilt was red, the blade was dark - dark as the night sky - and it glowed maroon, maroon like the light between grey clouds on mornings when the sun rose angry. There was a soft thud as her hands were left empty and the onions rolled over the lip of the basket and away into the grass.
As her gaze met the man’s silver-grey eyes, she perceived a coldness that flipped a switch within her. Wonder melted into terror, and fumbling, she snatched her knife out of its sheath and faced the man with a fortitude that contrasted jarringly with her quaking heart.
She gained confidence as they clashed. The blade never pierced her, never touched her even - each strike was evaded by a thin margin. Lips pressed firmly together, she fought on.
Win. Just win.
Panting, she thought of a plan. Focus was a fleeting state when a whetted blade exhibited near omnipresence.
My, he’s fast.
Weaving and sidestepping, dodging each cunning strike - patterned, methodical, she noticed his style.
There was a pause. They stood apart, tense, taut as tightropes, lock-eyed as each tried to predict the other's next move. The air was still.
Blindly, she sought a rock with her foot.
This had better work.
He smiled slowly. It was a smile that would have been charming - elsewhere. But here...now...a chill raced down her spine, but she had a plan now, or at least, something like one.
He came at her again. Again she ducked and dodged, stepping ever backwards, feigning terror and confusion with ease given her true state. She slid to the side, evading a large rock hidden in the grass, but he advanced, tripped and fell.
She was atop him in a split second. She shoved him onto his back and kneed him forcefully in the stomach - wringing a tiny grunt - then held her knife to his throat.
Her breathing slowed slightly. He looked her straight in the eye, offering neither fight nor fear.
She hesitated.
"Am I making a mistake?" she thought. "I'll take a gamble," she decided after a while. She got off of him and stood up cautiously.
The man rose and dusted his wear, then his hands. His hands looked strong but unworn. Rather unlike a survivor.
"Who the hell are you and what makes you think you can just attack someone out of the blue?" she demanded.
"I'm Asad," he replied. His smile was brief but winning. "I'm sorry about the unprovoked attack."
"Who are you?" she questioned. "Why did you attack me? What do you want?"
"As it happens.." he said casually, "I very much need you to kill me. I hoped you would do so in self-defence, for I did not expect you to accept a direct request."
She stared in disbelief. "I didn't expect you to be so depressed.......nice to meet you. I'm Tigress."
He smiled. "Nice name, suits your appearance."
Talking about appearances...no, that doesn't matter right now
"Are you hella depressed?"
"I am not at all depressed, " he said laughing, "I have other reasons."
"Well what are they?" she pressed. "Who are you really? And what's the deal with that strange knife?"
"My knife?" he asked. "Oh- that.." "I'm a wizard-"
She cut him off. "Excuse me but what-"
"I'm a wizar-"
"How?!"
He chuckled. "Be patient Tigress, let me speak."
"Prove you're a wizard."
The knife, vanished within the grass, now floated eerily out of the green tangle onto his open palm.
She stared astounded; he grinned faintly.
'"Like I said," he began, "I'm a wizard; I'm part of a group trying to end the apocalypse. My death, initiated by you, is key to our plan."'
There was silence as she tried to absorb the new information.
"Why me?" she asked after a while.
"You have an ideal combination of physical and incorporeal qualities."
"...what do you mean?"
"Just what I said."
His set expression lent her no hope of further explanation. She frowned briefly.
"What other skills do you have?"
"Swords, knives, words."
"Hmmh."
"Survival skills in general too."
"Nice..." She eyed his clothing. "You don't look like a survivor."
When he didn't reply, she said, "Do you know what is behind the apocalypse?"
"Yes."
"Can you tell me?"
"No."
"O come on-"
"No."
"Please, " she pleaded.
"No."
"I've lost so many people.....I can't be at peace till I know why all this happened."
His expression softened a little. "I'm sorry about that."
"There have been so many nights I couldn't sleep because I don't know what went wrong for all this to happen, why? Why?"
"That must be hard."
YEAH, ITS HARD NOW TELL ME ALREADY.
"Tell me."
"No."
"Why?"
"If you trust me to tell you the truth about it, trust me when I tell you I shouldn't inform you of the cause of the apocalypse."
There was again silence. After a while, she nodded slowly and dropped the question.
"But if you want things to change - then kill me."
"No," she said resolutely. "I can’t be part of what I don't know, I don't want to kill anyone and don't know you and I can't trust you and don't want to be involved in this magic thing I still know nothing about." "I, " and she looked him in the eye, "will not reconsider."
He looked straight back at her doe-brown eyes and saw beyond their soft shade a determination that could not have been clearer to read if eyes could speak.
"...right.." he said slowly after murmuring something under his breath. Then his eyes flashed and she knew it was war again.
At first, she was defensive, but he was so vicious this time that she realised a minute in she'd been up against nothing before. She landed a few nasty cuts - then noticed that all his slashes and thrusts were meant to be avoided and that he was losing blood way faster than normal and that she'd been tricked and her feelings disregarded.
She dropped her knife. He collapsed.
"You are not going to die!" she yelled. "I said I wasn't killing you and I won't-" she stopped short. She stopped short because his face was frighteningly colourless and he was still bleeding alarmingly fast and there was no way, no way she could do anything now.
She looked away, the sight of all the blood sickening her for the first time. "I'm tired of seeing people die!" she screamed in frustration. But he was gone.
She sat down, breathing ragged, wiping her tears away angrily. Scenes flashed through her mind. Some were vivid and noisy and chaotic; others were dull and quiet and heartbreaking. Overwhelmed with memories of losses, she sobbed till her lungs begged for oxygen and breathed at best in huge needy gasps that drew her chest back painfully. When she eventually calmed and raised her head, the body was gone.
She turned quickly, searching - but it had vanished.
At a loss for thoughts, she rose slowly, sniffed a long, drawn-out sniff, found her onions, placed them in Octavia’s trug, then trudged to the bunker.
***
“What took you so long?” asked Octavia.
“Long story….” Tigress replied as she placed the trug on the coffee table.
“Tell me,” Octavia said. “Why, you look like you’ve been weeping-”
"Well," Tigress began shakily. She steadied herself. "I finished picking the onions and got up to see a man approaching me from the front. He was holding a knife with a red hilt and a black blade. The blade was glowing red." She paused.
Octavia waited, burning with curiosity and concern.
"He attacked me and we fought. I don't know, he's much taller than me, he was maybe....6 feet tall or a little more. Well, I tripped him over a rock and he fell and I got on him and made to kill him. He didn't resist or anything, he didn't even look scared. So I took a gamble because it was all so strange and I got off of him. Turns out he's a wizard and wants to end the apocalypse and apparently there are others like him but long story short - he said I need to kill him because it's part of their plan for fixing all this. Well, I obviously wasn't just going to do that, and he didn't even tell me how the apocalypse started or anything. I refused to kill him a couple of times and then he attacked me again and orchestrated things so that I killed him. I dunno but he was losing blood like way faster than anyone should and he was dead before I could do anything...I was so upset and angry and I'm tired of seeing people die, Octavia, like really tired and I just remembered all the people I've lost and I cried and cried and when I rose his body had vanished so I picked the onions and came home."
Octavia was speechless for a good while.
"I- I- I don't even know what to think..I'm so sorry...I can scarcely believe it I mean..if you weren't the one telling me I would never-"
"It's fine," Tigress said quietly.
“Know his name?”
“Asad,” she replied.
“Arab?”
“I dunno..” Tigress said, “he looked very European.”
“How old, do you think?”
“23? 24?”
Octavia nodded.
“I’ll go make the stew,” she said as she left.
***
A week of normalcy ensued. They cleaned, hunted, tended their garden, cooked and reminisced. Octavia turned on the nightlamp.
“I can’t believe it’s been a week since that happened,” Tigress said, turning around in bed to face Octavia.
“Yea,” Octavia said softly.
“It’s still so vivid in my mind…I wonder if we’ll ever learn anything more.”
“What did he look like?”
“Hmmh..tall and lissom. His eyes were a silvery shade of grey - I thought they were cold at first but later when I was just asking him questions and he wasn't been threatening they just looked...like...striking? Serious too. He had white hair, I mean, platinum blonde, yeah, platinum blonde and pretty long I think. He had it up though so I don't really know how long. He was very fair, with just a mild tan."
Octavia nodded.
“I'll just get the pail I forgot in the garden-"
“Sure, “ Octavia replied.
“Don’t sleep,” Tigress said pouting, “I’m kinda scared of ghosts now.”
“Okie dokkie,” Octavia said laughing.
Tigress left the bedroom, leaving the door open so the lamplight could stream into the living room.
"On second thoughts," she whispered to herself, "it's spookier this way..."
She walked through the living room - turning on the lights as she passed the switches - then climbed up the ladder and came out into the garden.
"Whoa," she breathed. "The moon's beautiful tonight."
"I was just admiring it myself." she heard someone say casually.
She jumped and wheeled around, searching for the source of the voice, dreading what she might see. That accent, she had heard before...not sharp or drawled but smooth and deep, the consonants pronounced, the vowels musical.
"AHHH," she screamed as her eyes fell on his outline in the dark. She stumbled backwards. "GHOST!"
"Calm down. I'm not a ghost."
I KNEW HE WAS GOING TO HAUNT ME
"BUT YOU ARE I- I-I-" she shook with fear and took another step back," I SAW YOU DIE. HOW ARE YOU ALIVE AGAIN? AND - AND HOW THE HECK AM I SUPPOSED TO CALM DOWN?"
"I am recalled to life."
"THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE"
"I also thought it might be, turns out it wasn't beyond our power. And I didn't fully die, only like almost"
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN "ONLY"?? WHAT DO YOU MEAN AT ALL-"
"You wouldn't understand."
"You're a ghost," she said decidedly.
"I'm not."
"You are."
"I'm not."
"You are. You died!"
"And what is a ghost?"
"Well, well, well I don't know but you're one."
He raised an eyebrow. "Touch me and you'll see I'm as warm and real as you are."
Her eyes flitted with doubt. She approached cautiously.
"If I touch you then I'll become a ghost too-"
"Evidence?"
"uh.."
"None."
"Well-" she began, then she reached out slowly and touched his arm. She jumped. "Oh ****."
"Still in doubt?"
She ignored the question. "And what are you back for?"
"To help in the effort against the zombies."
"You really think it was helpful to have me nervous for a week?" she scoffed.
"I said it was needed."
"Do I look like I care?"
"Not really...I guess I'll go somewhere where I'm more welcome-..." he said and turned away.
"No-" she said grabbing his wrist. He jerked his hand out of her grip.
"I'm sorry.." she murmured.
His eyes softened. "It's fine," he said. "You're only touchy because you're hurt inside, and I understand."
"Huh-" she said in surprise.
"Because you're carrying so much pain, everywhere hurts."
"No-.....uh..um...yeah," she said finally, then after another pause, "yeah..." Her eyes glistened. "It's been so hard..." she said quietly.
"I understand," he said softly. "I'm sorry that you're hurting. And I want to assure you," he looked into her eyes, "that this storm will pass."
"How do you know?" she whispered.
"Everything does," he replied. "And the resistance is strong."
"But," she fought back tears, "but I've lost e-e-everyone, everything." He placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Thanks," she said, looking at the ground thoughtfully.
Does he really care? It sure feels like he does.....
She looked up at him and smiled. "Come inside."
As she opened the trapdoor, the golden light from the living room and the warmth of home flowed out into the night. The humble square hole, framed by the plain dark earth, looked like a portal to heaven.
"Thanks a lot." he said.
"You're welcome," she replied. "You go down first so I can lock it after."
He nodded and shimmied down the ladder.
She followed.
"You have electricity," he observed.
"Yeah," she said with a grin.
"I'm impressed-"
"The person here before us fixed up the hygroelelectricity."
"Nice."
"Oh - do you know the date?" She explained quickly. "I haven't known the date in so long......."
"It's fine," he said smiling. "It's April 18th, 2123."
"Thanks."
"No problem."
"Do you have a place around here?"
"No. I'm here to fight zombies and help survivors, and I'll stay with whoever wants me."
She nodded. "I guess you can stay here..for now at least...I'd have to talk to my friend though."
She's not going to like this-
He nodded. "Thanks."
"How old are you?"
"28," he said.
"Woah-," she said. "You look younger than that." She smiled. "I'm 22."
Octavia appeared in the doorway.
Her jaw dropped. She made to speak, but her mouth opened and shut undecidedly. Finally, she said - to a sheepish Tigress - "Didn't you say he was dead?"
"Uh, I can explain-" Tigress replied.
"You'd better-"
"Uh excuse me, " - and Tigress hurried towards Octavia and pulled her to the bedroom.
"Yea, explain," Octavia said, her hands on her hips.
"Yeah so I went to get the pail and I met him in the yard-"
"How'd he get there?"
"I think he can teleport-"
"Hmm go on-"
"I thought he was a ghost but he isn't, he's as real as you and me, he says the "others" brought him back to life-"
"O wowwww"
Tigress frowned. "I saw him die."
"Sorry, it's just so hard to believe-..so are they able to restore the dead."
"Well, I dunno, I don't think so - apparently he didn't die completely, just to a certain "level""
"Interesting. So what's he doing here?"
"He says he's here to help survivors and fight zombies."
"And why do you think we can trust a complete stranger?"
"He seems nice, but the real reason is - we could do with some help, and he seems really powerful, he could've harmed us already if he wanted to - and he can come in without being asked if he wants." She shrugged. "What's there to lose? And perhaps things would be worse if we antagonize him-"
".....okay," Octavia said slowly. "I've got a lot of doubts but let's see."
Octavia returned to the living room.
"Hey," she said.
"Hello."
"Want anything to eat?"
He smiled. "It would be greatly appreciated."
She nodded and left.
"Thanks a bunch," he said as he received the bowl of warm soup from her.
"No worries."
Back in the bedroom, Tigress scooped up the pile of bedding she'd gathered and lugged it to the parlour.
"Here," she said, piling it on a sofa. "You can make a bed of 'em."
"Why thanks!" he said gratefully. She smiled and left.
"Nice-" he murmured to himself as he layered the cosy blankets on the carpet. "Wonder where they got these."
A few minutes later, Octavia tiptoed over the open doorway.
"He's asleep already," she whispered.
"Isn't he awfully handsome-" Tigress whispered.
"He's more awfully suspicious-" Octavia replied.
"I prefer mysterious," Tigress said, "but both are true."
"We've got to make a clear arrangement," Octavia said.
"Yeah sure, we'll talk to him in the morning."
Octavia nodded and shut the door quietly.
"What do you think?" Tigress asked when they were comfortably in bed.
"I just dunno at the point-"
Nor do I, nor do I...
"Hmmh," replied Tigress.
Later, when Tigress was sound asleep, Octavia crept over to the living room, opened the door quietly and looked in. She paled.