After driving for about half a day, we stopped by a local shopping mall. The sun was just peeking over the horizon.
I hesitantly slipped out of the car.
For a civilian vehicle, the G-Class Benz was a true fortress on wheels. As long as you were inside, you were pretty much safe. If you got out of it, though, not so much; zombies could be lurking around any corner, after all.
“Hmm...” Squinting, I scanned the area.
Just your average, run-of-the-mill suburban shopping mall and its excessively spacious parking lot peppered with cars. Not a single living—or undead—thing in sight. Emphasis on “in sight,” though.
After a period of prolonged activity, zombies would enter a dormant state, whether to unwind or delay the decay. At least, that’d been my experience. There could be one anywhere, lying in wait for unsuspecting victims like a ticking time bomb ready to go off.
“Let’s see here.” I inspected the area again, this time using the Lightweight Stalker. Slowly, thoroughly.
I couldn’t possibly inspect every nook and cranny, but I didn’t need to. Searching for telltale signs, like limbs sticking out or pools of pus on the ground, would suffice.
“Find anything?” Otoha asked me.
“Nope.”
“Bummer.”
“Can you not?” I was tired of beating the dead horse of our usual banter. As Otoha hopped out of the car, I took a few steps forward and surveyed our surroundings a third time.
The busted entrance and windows were scorched in places. The fire must’ve taken place during the initial stages of the apocalypse, back when the sprinkler systems had still been fully functional. It looked like they’d kicked in and prevented the fire from spreading.
“Would you like me to go check?” piped up the maid sitting in the driver’s seat.
Yep, you heard me: the maid, stereotypical uniform and all. The fingerless, faux leather gloves she was wearing—presumably for driving—kind of clashed with the aesthetic, though.
Tetsuko Uemura was an invaluable asset to the team. We had picked her up the other day along with some additional goodies, like the G-Class Benz and the Lightweight Stalker.
She was no ordinary maid, oh no. Tetsuko had undergone specialized military training conducted by a foreign officer in order to adequately protect her charge. The VIP in question was none other than the Kosahana family’s only daughter. Needless to say, the girl couldn’t have been in more capable hands.
Remember the “person I’d gotten cozy with” I mentioned earlier? Yup, that person was Tetsuko.
Out of curiosity, I had once tried squeezing an age out of her. She had politely declined to answer, shooting daggers straight through me with her glare.
“No need. I’ll handle it. Keep the engine running in case things go south.” I lowered the rifle and looked around one last time. The scope’s powerful zoom was great for sniping, but it also gave the user tunnel vision.
Seems clear enough to me.
“Showtime.” Leaning forward, I made a break for the front entrance. Then, I rested my back against a partly charred yet perfectly stable pillar by the entrance and breathed a sigh of relief. There were no zombies in sight. “Looks clear,” I said, looking around the mall, gun pointed forward.
Although there was light flooding in from the outside, the interior was mostly dark.
I grabbed the flashlight Tetsuko had given me with my left hand in an icepick grip and placed the tip of the Lightweight Stalker over it. This was a classic technique used by the police. The army just used night-vision goggles, but unfortunately for me, I didn’t have a pair conveniently lying around.
It was quiet. So quiet, in fact, that if you listened very carefully, you could only hear—
“Yoo-hoo.”
“Wagh?!” I snapped my head back to see Otoha, clutching her trusty shovel, and a brunette beauty standing right beside her. They had almost scared the bejesus out of me just now.
The girl at Otoha’s side had refined facial features, equally elegant mannerisms, and a fine head of chestnut-brown hair. The color was consistent and looked perfectly natural.
Her mere presence gave the room an air of class that was hampered only by the less-than-ladylike Remington 700 in her hands. She was none other than Shino Kosahana in the flesh.
This classy lady had been born to loving parents: an Italian mother and a Japanese business-mogul father. She was also the sniper who had taken Field Battle by storm.
“Thought you were gonna sit this one out?”
“I had an unexpected change of heart, p-partner,” Shino said with a sheepish smile.
Even if she didn’t lift a finger, she’d be intoxicatingly attractive, but those added little quirks and gestures put her into her own category. I mean, she can’t even say “partner” without getting all shy since she’s thinking of the other meaning of the word. There’s no topping that.
“I’m his partner,” Otoha growled, tapping her shoulder with the shovel grip. “Me.”
Is it just me or is she giving me a death stare? Must be my imagination, uh-huh.
“He’s lost without me,” she added.
“Sure am,” I said with a wry smile.
Here I thought all that time I spent under Otoha’s wing helped bolster her image of me, but apparently not. It is what it is, I guess.
In the end, we decided to explore together. Having not one but two partners by my side felt reassuring... and a little pathetic at the same time, seeing as I was supposed to be the man of the group.
Not that I’m complaining. Those two can handle themselves in a fight.
“Awfully quiet, isn’t it?” Shino murmured.
Otoha and I had scavenged derelict stores like there was no tomorrow, but this was all clearly new to Shino. Of course she’d find it a tad off-putting that a place normally brimming with life had none left.
Stopping, Otoha pointed at the floor. “Those were not made by zombies.”
Fresh bike tracks.
Biker zombies? Yeah, right. If only.
“Then who, pray tell?”
“Looters, the desperate kind. It’s a staple,” Otoha answered matter-of-factly.
Shino winced ever so slightly.
She, just like yours truly, hadn’t experienced human nature at its absolute worst during the initial stages of the zombie apocalypse. Both of us were shut-ins, after all. If anything, Shino had gotten to experience the exact opposite: human nature at its finest. Self-sacrifice, unconditional fatherly love, and all that jazz.
Otoha, on the other hand, hadn’t been nearly as fortunate.
She had known what to expect going into it, but even so, witnessing the lowest of the low firsthand must’ve been a nightmare. No girl in her late teens should’ve had to see adults killing and maiming one another over the tiniest crumbs of bread.
“Otoha, I...”
“Hmm?” There wasn’t a dent in her deadpan expression.
“Forget it. So, what happens to the ones who don’t come out on top?”
“They turn zombie. Everyone does.”
“Ain’t that a kick in the head,” I said sarcastically.
“If so, wouldn’t they have come out by now?” Shino pointed out.
We had been wandering the premises for some time, yet we hadn’t had a single encounter thus far. Even the aforementioned dormant zombies should’ve been roused by our scents or our chitchat by now.