death doesn't discriminate

there was a small part of ash that sparked at the mention of the world health organization. if anyone, wouldn’t they be working on a cure? she thought it was foolish to garner any hope for the cure of the undead at this point: their brains were rotted and their skin completely decimated. if they could be turned back, which was highly unlikely, their upkeep as sentient beings would be extremely expensive, and thus likely reserved for the incredibly rich. but… but what of the recently turned? what of those who were in the process? was a cure possible, for those tricky and rare cases? was humanity even hopeful enough to continue searching for such a minute cure? or had they resorted to an immunity, a camouflage from the existing monsters, that they would then (or eventually) have to tackle, destroy?

she almost winced at the next question– its closeness to the mention of her parents, and the train of thought she’d been on, evoking strong and repulsing images in her mind. though they had abandoned her, she could not see it in herself to destroy her own parents. of course, she would, and she would have to, but she couldn’t see it. not now, and hopefully she wouldn’t ever have to. and her sister… who they had left with, saving their own lives at the sacrifice of their eldest’s… she inhaled deeply. “no,” she answered uncertainly. “i don’t know where they are. they might be dead,” she guessed, “or they might be around here. who knows.” she tried to shrug, but the weight of losing her family hurt, and she worried for them.

she took some comfort from the tap of her shoulder as rivka passed. she had been, well, starved of touch for so long, it made her heart skip a beat at what she wanted to take as consolation. she nodded, following rivka out into the night. it was dark now, and there was little to do in woodbury after the sun had set. but she had found company, hadn’t she? she felt compelled, as was the proper response, to offer rivka her own as well. she asked, “would you like some coffee, or tea? i’ve some at my flat.”

"I hope for the best for your family,” Rivka said with a small smile. “I hope you reconnect with them when this is over.” She hoped that it would end soon. She wanted it all to be over. She was tired of so many things, of running all the time, living off canned soups and stale water. She was tired of always looking over her shoulder, never truly trusting anyone, and never getting close to anyone. She lead the two of them out of the basement of the building and out into some fresh air. Rivka let out a sigh of relief. She didn’t like being in small, warm places in the dark. When she was younger and would play hide and seek, it wasn’t so bad, but ever since the outbreak, she despised it. 

“Tea?” Rivka raised her eyebrows at Ash. “Do you have black tea? It’s my favorite,” she said with another smile. When the other woman nodded, Rivka said, “Sure. That’d be nice. Thank you.” She was glad that in this city she could connect with others. Maybe they wouldn’t all be friends or anything more than that, but it was human connection and Rivka wasn’t continuously looking over her shoulder. “Lead the way.”

“home country…” ash mused. where was that, for her? she was born in russia, yes, but hadn’t she spent most of her life in london, and the latter half in america? was she allowed, so to speak, to call a country her home simply for feelings of belonging? she couldn’t answer that. it upset her, to think she had spent so much time developing and studying her first language, into combing meticulously through grammar charts, creating flashcards, studying irregular rules. history had been the one class she had aced, and she adored the complex myriad of gray-scale victories and losses russia kept under ties. but, again, did she truly belong?

“where is home for you?” she tilted her head, finally able to see the other woman clearly, though she was squinting now. she was… incredibly attractive. the mysterious shroud that fell upon her finer features was cast off, and she could see the warm, but guarded eyes, the twitch of her lips into a smile, somehow-sculpted eyebrows. “you would be an asset,” she added, to cover her staring. from the way rivka spoke, it was clear her family was a talented, well-meaning group, and the contrast between herself and her new acquaintance made her frown. if she could assume anything, it was that rivka’s family was at least lower-middle class, given their wide set of credentials and the extreme need for medical assistance, even before the end of the world.

“well,” she coughed, “it’s good you are here. we need someone…. like you.”

"Home for me is very far away,” Rivka said, mostly to herself. “Far away to me.” She turned to face the brunette and smiled. “Israel. Tel-Aviv. It was very beautiful before the outbreak. We had a few years before it got bad and they started closing everything up as soon as news broke in the United States.” She would often times go to the beach on weekends with friends or family and stay there for hours. “As far as I know, the rest of my family is still there...but they could be other places. I think one of my brothers could be in Switzerland at the World Health Organization,” she added. As a pathologist, he was interested in the disease and wanted to work with other microbiologists and scientists. 

“What of your family?” Rivka asked. “Are they alive? Have you spoken to them?” She couldn’t believe the number of people who were left alone and who lost their loved ones. She couldn’t imagine that pain, so she did her best not to. She didn’t want to think about it, the possibilities. She wanted to keep the idea of her family being alive and well inside her mind until she was told otherwise. The first step was to find a way to communicate with them in Israel or somehow reach WHO’s headquarters in Geneva to see if her brother was still there. “Let’s head out of here,” she said as the lights all came on finally. She touched Ash’s shoulder and headed for the door.

time passing was temperamental. she FOUND inside that the time passed quicker. easier to get lost in the notion, or to forget all about it completely. but facing the hordes outside, it’s like waiting for that moment where it all ends. a slow tick of a clock, waiting. always waiting.  ❝  yeah. we don’t really have calendars that date this far anymore, do we ?  ❞

How long had it been since Rivka arrived in the United States? How long had it been since she communicated with her parents? Her brothers? Were they able to communicate with each other or were they all separated? Rivka finished off carving her last name and brushed off the wood shavings and pieces. “I’m sure they stopped manufacturing them about eight years ago,” she said to the girl. “I try to keep track, but when you spend so much time surviving and searching for food and water and shelter for the next night, you forget to record what day it is. I have a watch that has the time and date, but I’m not entirely sure if it is accurate anymore.” 

     FEIGNING OFFENSE, SCOTT effortlessly sat down beside rivka with a hand over his heart. he looked at her incredulously. ❝ nice to see you too, coworker. yeesh, is it too much to ask for a little respect in the workplace ?? ❞ he teased, even smirking afterwards to show so. eventually, he settled and started to watch the sunset. ❝ it kind of looks like one from a postcard. ❛ wish you were here, ❜ sort of deal. now, i never got postcards myself but i’d be damned if i didn’t think some of the pictures on them were pretty as hell. ❞

Rivka gave him a slight smile and shrugged her shoulders. “You gotta earn respect from me,” she joked. “What the hell are you doing here? You got off your shift hours ago.” She knew it was ironic that she was telling him that even though she herself was sitting on the top of the wall way after her own shift had ended. “It does look like a postcard. Too good to be true. I used to get postcards from my father when he would travel and I would send postcards to my family.” Of course, she’d send them after her missions so she never gave away her current locations. “Did you never have people to send you postcards? No one who traveled and thought of you?”

Rivka was sitting on top of the wall, watching the sun go down. She’d been sitting there for what seemed like an eternity even though her shift ended almost two hours ago. She finished eating an apple and noticed someone come up to her. “Hey, you are blocking my view,” she said, half joking. “Is there something I can do for you, Scott?” 

it was a pretty name, and italia’s soft hum spoke for itself. she’d finished her name, poking at the possibility of writing her last name when the other spoke up.  ❝  a while. since winter at least. what about you ?  ❞

After Rivka finished carving her name in Hebrew, she went back to carving her last name. “A few weeks. I guess it has been closer to a few months really,” she said. She paused and looked up at the sky, trying to think of when she’d arrived. She’d kept count of the days, or at least tried to, in a small notebook she carried, but she hadn’t written in it for days. “Yeah...I suppose a few months. Time passes by strangely now since the outbreak started.”

trixie catches the light with ease, hands clapped together, pushing the instrument between her palms. the INS AND OUTS of woodbury, she knew very well. you don’t live in the city for years, before and after this nightmare, without knowing a few things. ❝  NOT this door, it’s the next one.  ❞  she speaks next, bottom tapping the woman’s arm to grab her attention. to hell if she was about to get super slammed onto the floor again. her light points to a rusted door, only a couple feet away, as trixie’s worn out sneakers squeak onto the floor.  ❝  don’t know how you guys do it. i would suffocate if i was stuck inside for more than a day.  ❞  one of her many truths. she attempts to push the door, only for something on the other side to fall and slam it in her face, a booming echo making her jump back.  ❝  great.  ❞

Rivka hadn’t been in the town for very long, but she’d been able to find her way pretty quickly. The town had an easy street system to navigate and she liked that. It would be easy to find an exit strategy. She had yet to find other hidden passageways or other paths that were less traveled. Rivka followed Trixie over to the next door. “They have people on the top of the wall, which is where I am stationed, so I actually have a view of the city around us. It is much more pleasant to watch than being on the ground.” She jumped next to Trixie to help her open the door on a second attempt. She leaned forward and pushed the door, which finally opened with a spine chilling squeak. “Alright....now where to next,” she said. “It has to be over there.” She shined a light on a row of gray boxes attached to the wall. 

she didn’t agree. she believed the people were safe inside the walls. she’d spent the first four years of the apocalypse with her sister. it was them against the world and they survived. four years before the tragedy struck and she knew what it meant to protect someone. but they were without shelter, without a permanent place of residency which is what the people of woodbury had. she’d been in woodbury for a few months now and had never seen an incident where a roaming corpse had made it close to entering the wall and she didn’t see an instance where they ever would; the walls were safe, secure.  ‘ woodbury is strong. the walls surrounding this place aren’t just some makeshift shit i’ve seen. i have made camp and slept like katniss in the tree on multiple occasions. woodbury has her protectors and she will not fall. ’ 

"The walls cannot hold back the dead forever, especially once the dead outnumber the living,” Rivka said in a very solemn tone. She had seen cities wiped out and towns overrun by the dead. No matter what people did to prepare and defend themselves, something always went wrong. Rivka had developed a morbid and cynical personality ever since she’d seen the outbreak first hand. She was sheltered from it for the first few years until it reached her home. “While the walls are safe now and I am grateful for it, anything can happen, especially accidents. There are people here who only care for themselves and they will not stay as the town falls should that happen.” She hoped that the town would remain a safe haven until a cure was found and the dead were eliminated, but no one knew how long that would be, if ever. 

not seeing the woman as a threat, his gun lowered, placing it back where it belonged; against his back, between his undergarments and flesh. ‘ you’re right. you didn’t. but just because you didn’t this time doesn’t mean that next time will be the same. ’ he shrugged, not sure what else needed to be said on the subject. he understood that the mayor allowed people to carry in fear of the dead getting in and people being unprotected but some people were just too easily frightened. things happen on impulse at times and what if she was frightened to the point of killing someone on accident, that would still be death on her part and something she’d have to live with. ‘ there’s no lecture to continue. i’m just asking that you be careful and don’t pull a gun on someone, accidents happen. and i certainly don’t wanna hear about you or anyone else killing someone on accident. ’

Rivka pursed her lips and watched the man lower his gun. “What was your job before you came here? Actually, what was your job before the outbreak?” she asked. The outbreak forced people to take on different jobs, many of them they’d never asked for or something they’d never been trained to do until now. It was always interesting for Rivka, and she would play a little game, trying to guess what people did before the outbreak. Usually, she could guess correctly if she knew someone after a while, but sometimes, there were surprises. It was so different back then when Rivka trained for the military, just as the outbreak was reaching overseas. Training changed and she had to learn new weapons and protocols. Training for Mossad was different too. Everything changed the moment the virus left the lab in Canada. Rivka turned back to Thomas as she walked down the hall. “Don’t worry so much, Tommy. I know how to handle my weapon, unlike some people here who wield AK47s and Winchester rifles without any training. Now help me with this door. It’s heavy,” Rivka said as she nodded towards the electrical room door.

“He’s dead.” Lillian bluntly told the woman. “He taught me everything I know. I was only eight when the outbreak happened. I was in the third grade. Don’t remember much before the outbreak honestly.” It was the truth. There were a few things she remembered but they were memories that weren’t very useful during the zombie apocalypse. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “How’d you get here then? Do you think they can help us?”

"I am very sorry about your father,” Rivka said softly. Somehow, she thought it would feel more comforting to know her family was dead. Instead, she lived in the unknown, constantly wondering and imagining scenarios and possibilities. Was her family dead? Were they all alive? Were they trapped in purgatory as flesh eating monsters, a fate far worse than death? “You were young. I was nineteen and going to college. The outbreak didn’t reach Israel immediately and I could finish school.” She stood up and held her hand out to the girl to help her up from the ground. “I got here in a complicated fashion. After getting to America, I trekked here myself,” she said. “I hope that my brother can help. He is a pathologist. I hope to see him again one day as well as my other brother.”

if you thought about it, nobody came here to make friends. survival was a focal point, a new way of life, and it was put first. italia gave the other a small nod, not opposed to a little company, seeing as being alone wasn’t her forte. ‘ sounds like a solid plan. ’ right ? ‘ i’m italia. italia vinacci. ’

“Rivka Shafir,” she repeated, mostly to herself as she carved into the wood. Rivka stood back to look at how she started her name. After finishing her first name, she went back at the wood with her knife to write her name in Hebrew. Someone who knew her would definitely know it was her who carved it if they ever found it. Rivka glanced at the younger girl as she took a break from cutting into the window sill. “Have you been here long?”

“that is… a lot,” ash commented. she paused, thinking of a kind response. in her eyes, this amount of highly specific abilities meant cop, or, in general, a high position of authority. and, to be honest, those types put her on edge. they always had, even before the end of the world. “so if you know all that,” she began, attempting to check her tendency to be brusque, “do you know what happened here?” she gestured to their surroundings, not realizing her gesture might take for their current “here”. “the undead, i mean.”

ash was, to be honest, an anarchist. she believed authority in high positions was almost unnecessary, and that humanity would serve fine under socialism or, really, any decent system besides capitalism. but she hated to be that person, and hated “stagnant” conflict even more– a confusing mix given her confrontational personality. it was just that she preferred to settle things with her fists, something she always understood more than fancied words used specifically for hiding the truth.

and then ash sighed. “it was… not my choice.” her tone was flat and she was looking away, pressing pouty lips together. she had loved her country and, when younger, argued their departure from russia. it was ironic how, looking back, they had left russia for her safety, and now here she was, technically a murderer and thief, all wrapped up in one tiny ball of anger and shame.

but if she had broken the law, so had she. wasn’t it some kind of illegal to leave your child during the end of the world? she seethed at the memory, of th empty house with no sign of a fight, of remorse, of any struggle with leaving her behind. just calm, calculated composure in packing their bags– and their other daughter’s– and leaving only one room with non-essentials. ash’s.

ash hummed a low tone as she considered her response. she didn’t know this person, and didn’t completely have faith in all humanity as to assume the stranger wanted to know her tragic backstory, never mind cared about her. the brunette ran a bruised-knuckled hand through wavy curls, still mulling. “by myself,” she finally lied. “i miss russia very much.”

“Some of the languages you had to know where I am from,” Rivka said. “My family used to travel and knowing the language gave you an advantage.” She opened up the breaker and looked around at the buttons and switches. She studied them and noticed the ones out of line. “I need to reset the breaker panel and the main breaker.” She pursed her lips and turned all the switches to off and then turned to Ash. “Go over to the main breaker over there. There should be a panel next to a meter. Turn the switch in the panel off and back on.”

It was strange for Rivka without truly having her job. For so long, she was a soldier following orders left and right and then worked on missions and suddenly, she had nothing. She had nothing and no one but herself. She felt as if she had lost some of her purpose. How could Rivka do anything to change the world when she is just one person? How could she live the rest of her life not knowing if her family was alive? How could she live if she found out her family was dead, which was a scarier question. Rivka’s only solution was to take it one day at a time, breathe, and sort it out in time.

Once Ash completed the task Rivka gave her, she turned on all the switches on the breakers. There was a hum and buzz as the lights above them flickered back on one by one. Rivka sighed in relief and shook out her hands. “It was not your choice to come here?” she asked, looking at the Russian woman. “I suppose it was my choice to come here. Sometimes I wish I hadn’t. I would rather be in my home country and with my family, even though we would all be busy trying to do what we can to help people.”

‘ oh, i forgot the correct terminology, please excuse the fuck outta me. ’ sapphire hues rolled at the woman’s remarks. to cause another conflict wasn’t her intention but seeing a gun pulled on another for simply frightening someone, well, that scared her. she understood it though, she would’ve probably done that same but she’d never admit to it. ‘ what i would prefer is that people weren’t allowed to carry weapons inside the wall, unless they’re on duty, at the wall. there’s no need for civilians to have them inside the wall, that’s how accidents happen. you know, like what almost happened here. ’ a sigh was taken and she shook her head. ‘ just be careful, you could’ve killed someone and whether or accident or intentional, that wouldn’t have been good for anyone. ’

Rivka gave the woman a small smile and shrugged her shoulders. Despite instigating a perilous interaction with a kid down near the boiler room, Rivka didn’t want to cause a conflict with anyone else. “People without weapons are sitting ducks,” Rivka replied, speaking from experience. Anyone without a weapon was vulnerable. While it was unfortunate a weapon could so easily be used on the living, it was the world that they lived in today. “Accidents happen,” she repeated. “A rotter could easily breach these walls and without weapons, we would be defenseless. When one rotter comes, a whole horde of them will arrive shortly after, drawn in by the scent of the warm blood flowing through our veins. And then, this city will collapse and there will be fewer people in the world. Forgotten, torn apart and disemboweled, and cursed to roam the Earth without their sense of identity. People without weapons don’t stand a chance.” It was something she saw too often as she traveled across the country. 

trixie didn’t have much of a choice. of course, she could let the other go down there THEMSELVES          but this was also her job. if something bad were to happen, she’d have to spend time in an office that she would rather stray away from. ‘ good question. i figure right now, i’m someone’s errand bitch. but usually, i’m one of the gatherers.  ’

Rivka tossed another smaller flashlight that she had on her to Trixie as they walked down the hall. “I think we have to take another right and a left before we get to the room with all the breakers. We’ll need to reset them unless there’s other visible damage, in which case we’ll have to wait for some technicians,” she said to the woman. She nodded and shrugged her shoulders when she mentioned her job around here. “I suppose it’s part of the whole pull your weight thing. Do your part. I thought about being a gatherer, but after doing that for a while elsewhere, I kind of wanted a break from it. I’ve been sticking to guarding the wall for now. A little boring, but I guess it has its perks.” Rivka motioned to the woman. “This way.” They came across a door and Rivka pushed it open, but it was a lot heavier than it looked.

it took her a while to get comfortable with the idea of people knowing her, knowing her name, like she was more. important. this was the end product of a comfortable state of self. ‘ maybe you can make friends here ? people you would want to see it … and you never know. maybe one day, home’ll make its way here, you know. ’

"When I came here, it is for a job, not to make friends,” Rivka said, although the girl had a point. Perhaps she should make the most of this trip and make some friends. It was tiring seeing everyone as an enemy. They were all alive, but they weren’t really living. She gave the girl a small smile. “Smart girl. I think you might have a point. Perhaps I can start with trying to be friends with you and carve my name into this window over here.” Rivka took out her knife again and stepped to the other side of the girl to carve her own name into the rather untouched wood of the window. “My name is Rivka. What’s yours?”

Lillian listened to the woman’s words but yet the tears kept flowing. Her heart was still racing from the adrenaline. “It’s okay.” She stammered out as she wiped her eyes. The well that poured from her eyes was drying up. Following the woman’s orders, she exhaled deeply. “My father..” Lillian sniffled as she moved into a different position. “He taught me everything I know.” She missed her father a lot. Did the same thing happen to her father? “Where’s your family?”

"Your father? Where is he now? What else did he teach you?” she asked. As soon as the words left her mouth, Rivka was scared of the answer that she was sure she knew. Rivka gave the girl a small smile at the thought of her own family. She missed her family and she would talk as often as she could. The last she’d heard from them was shortly after she arrived in the United States. After that, she couldn’t get any sort of communication to them. “My family is back home,” she said. “In Israel. They are doing what they can to help the world.” She hoped that was true. She was sure her father would be continuing his work for Mossad and that her brothers and mother would be helping take care of the sick and injured. It was in their nature. All of the Shafirs were doing what was in their blood. 

send me a △ and ask a really invasive question.

1/10

No. Not yet. Hopefully, I’ll never have to.