Survival Song

Neil knew bruises. Almost as well as he knew himself. They were an old friend, one he could never rid himself of. He knew how they didn’t appear immediately, but only after you’ve forgotten the beating that brought them. They only served as a reminder that yesterday was another day as Nathaniel Wesninski, just as tomorrow will be. Beaten, broken, and stained.

They always had these strange fading of colors. An ugly brown to nauseating yellow and then back to his natural skin tone. Only rarely did they turn green. But this was no bruise. It was a cut on he’d gotten while climbing down the latter attached to the guard tower. Aaron had cleaned and dressed the wound with bandages from the infirmary, since that was where he spent most of his days. Apparently Abby took Aaron under her wing and was training him to work in the infirmary. No one would say the grimmer part reason aloud which was that she was training him in case anything ever happened to her. Neil's left arm would now have a scar that stretched from his elbow to the fleshy part of his thumb but he didn't think he'd mind. He had plenty of scars across his body. A constellation of them, each telling a different story. More tragic every time. He didn't like the look of pity on other peoples faces though, so he tended not to tell the tales.

He had been in Palmetto for only a week, but somehow, he felt like he had actually become a part of this tiny, dysfunctional family. It was only delusion but he let himself have this little indulgence. He hadn’t planned to stay as long as he already had, but before he got the chance to skip town, Dan was strapping a rifle to his back and putting him on perimeter duty and assigning him shifts in the guard tower. More often than not, these shifts were coexisting with Seth's. Neil noticed that despite his angry and cold exterior, Seth seemed sad. He was always solemn and quiet when they were alone in the tower. Like all of his negative emotions were armor he wore to keep others out. No one wanted to step straight into an open fire. That's what Seth had told him when Neil asked about why his personality seemed to change depending on who he was with. 

"What about you?" He asked. 

"What about me?"

"You don't talk to anyone. Are you really that fucking anti-social or are you just hiding something?"

He was so spot on, it shocked Neil. 

"I guess I'm just that fucking anti-social." He replied.

"Cheers to that." He held up a fist and Neil bumped it.

"Yeah. Cheers to that."

After that, everything became so much easier. He found himself falling in love with the foxes. He found himself digging even deeper into an already gaping hole. Maybe that’s why he didn’t notice before it was too late. He was a frog stuck in a pot of boiling water and the world was slowly turning up the heat.

If he were anyone else, Neil would’ve liked to become a Fox. To stay in this town, grow old, and die of natural causes instead of a stray bullet to the brain during a shootout. He knew he couldn’t, because it didn’t matter how many different identities he claimed. Neil was still himself. As he was Chris, as he was Alex, as he was Stefan. All him, just a different pseudonym.

In all honestly, the first few nights he thought the foxes would try to kill him. It was a stupid thought considering they were the ones who had rescued him. But then again, how would he know anything about loyalty or honor? Neil had never saved anyone in his entire life. Anyone who had ever been spared at the end of his guns barrel only met their end later on when it served in favor of Neil’s survival. He couldn’t even begin to imagine a motive behind his murder. If he was raised any other way, maybe he wouldn’t have been as paranoid as he was but you didn’t get as far as he had gotten without being suspicious.

He recalled his time with the Ravens and how much it differed from his time with the Foxes. When he wore black the rules were different. If you couldn’t take care of yourself, you were as good as dead. There was no room for dead-weight at Edgar Allen, and eventually, Neil's mother decided that there was no more room for them. Neil had to keep reminding himself that this wasn’t that place though. That the only person who could drag him out of Palmetto was himself and that he was probably the deadliest person here at the moment. At least, that’s what he pretended to believe.  

Twice a night he woke up in a cold sweat-because he thought he heard something moving around in the room or because of a nightmare. The causes were mixed. He would snatch his knife from under his pillow, breathing heavily and slash out into the empty air in front of him. If the Foxes weren’t the death of him it would be his own misguided hand. Maybe that was why he liked going up to the tower late at night, where he knew Seth would be. He wasn't on duty, but it was nice being with someone who was just as much as an insomniac as he was.

One particularly terrible night, Seth had confided in him about the death of his brothers. About how he watched and how sometimes he felt like he was still watching. He was being restrained and couldn't do anything until it was over. He'd only gotten away because of dumb luck. Neil told him about how sometimes he still saw his mom, screaming at him. They were more alike than they both had thought.

"Cheers." Seth said. He was always toasting to something, despite his lack of alcohol.

"To what this time?" 

"Shared trauma or some shit like that?"

"Right." Neil breathed in slowly. It hurt. "To shared trauma or some shit like that."

-

The October air nipped at the tip of Neil’s nose and blew his hair into a disheveled mess. He had to sweep his bangs out of his face every so often. He sat on porch steps, disassembling and reassembling his gun over and over again. It proved to be more difficult with his injury but he got the hang of it by the third time he filled the chamber. No body had assigned him to anything today so he had to make his own distraction. He snapped the revolver's cylinder back into place as Dan’s chunky combat boots came into view.

“Careful where you point that thing, rookie.” Dan ruffled his black hair, making it look wilder than it already was. “I brought you lunch.” 

Neil hadn’t seen himself in a mirror in a while, but when he had realized that his roots were growing in again he figured he’d probably have to make a run into a town to find a dye that would hide his hair’s natural auburn color, or just shave it all off altogether. He’d rocked a shaved head when he couldn’t hide his father's color or when his hair became too long to be reasonable. Neil didn't come across mirrors or other people often, but when he did he preferred to not look like his dad. The ghost of him was a haunting thing, always following behind him. He accepted the sandwich and forgot to take a bite. He wasn’t a picky eater, he was just too distracted to register that he was supposed to be eating it right now. He skipped out breakfast, claiming he wasn't hungry but really, he had an awful nightmare and didn't think he could stomach his stale Lucky Charms.

“Why are you looking at it like that? I didn’t poison it if that's what you’re thinking.”

He shot her an incredulous look. “No! No, it's just-”

“Though I would be careful if Allison offers you any food. She might poison it. One time she put laxatives in Kevin's breakfast burrito. God only knows where she found laxatives.”

Kevin was a common enough name, especially around Palmetto. He was plenty popular here, but hearing it spoken aloud still sent a chill down his spine. Last he heard, his Kevin was still flying with the Ravens, but truth be told, he hadn’t heard anything in a long time. Just whispers in the awful cacophony that was his life. Barely audible, but still there nonetheless.

“What kind is it?” 

“Peanut butter and jelly. I’m now realizing that you might have a peanut allergy and I could’ve killed you. Indirectly.” Dan smashed her shoulder against his and he realized that she was joking around with him.

“No. I’m not allergic.” Neil took a bite. Even though they’d been feeding him everyday and he'd been trying to eat, he was still shocked when he received something that wasn't canned or near expired. The fact that they had so much to share astonished him. The Foxes had their own little greenhouse where they grew plants-that was where Betsy worked-so they had no shortage of fresh food. Outside of the walls, they had a variety of areas marked as “safe”. In one of the safe zones was a creek that fed into an unmarked lake. This is where they caught most of their game. There and the surrounding woods. 

Finally, he managed to thank her. He didn’t think he’d have to clarify that he meant for all of it, not just the sandwich. 

“No problem." She ruffled his hair again. "In Palmetto, we’re a family, blood or not. That's what being a Fox means. You’re part of that too now, if you want.”

“Family.” Neil attempted a laugh but it came out as more of a choke. The word tasted strange on his tongue. His last family was less of a family and more of a means of survival. The idea was poisonous and did nothing but make his heart feel heavy with sorrow. He had no idea why the word had such an effect on him.

“What?” She laughed with him, but hers was real. He didn't think he could ever be that genuine. “Something wrong with that?”

“No, it’s just…” he took another bite out of the sandwich before continuing on. “Family. I don’t think I believe in it. Not really.”

“You don’t believe in family?”

“Maybe I just don’t know what it’s like. To be a part of one. For so long family were just the people who kept me alive until they became the people who wanted to kill me.” He shut himself up by licking some jelly off of his thumb. "Never mind. I'm being dumb."

Danielle looked a shade more curious than she did before. “Who kept you alive before your mom, then. If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t really remember. I try to forget them...their faces and names. I mentioned the whole they tried to kill me thing…” She nodded. “Not something you want to remember.” 

“But do you know what happened to them?”

Neil didn’t miss a beat. “The same thing that happens to everyone.” It’d be better if she thought they were dead. Long gone and had no connection whatsoever to the Ravens. 

”Oh yeah? And what happens to everyone?”

“You know,” he looked back at where he’d set his accessory. “Everyone.”

There was a brief silence. Wind was the only sound between them. It shook the trees in the woods around them. “You're wrong about that.”

“Oh yeah? You’ve never had to kill someone you love?” Neil hadn’t, but he liked to pretend that he at least tolerated the people who’d had the displeasure of looking directly down the barrel of his gun. Knives were probably safer. They were quieter, less messy, and wouldn't run out of bullets or jam during an important moment but he’d given them up blades a long time ago. He still carried one even though he didn't prefer to use it.

“Never had anyone to love. Not until Palmetto. Not until Matt.”

“You’re saying no one here has ever died? Gotten bit by a straggler? The list goes on, Dan.” It really did. 

“Maybe they have, but not in the time I’ve been here.”

He considered asking her how long that was. Obviously, she’d been a Fox for a considerable amount of time if she was this high in the chain of commands. Above Abby and Betsy, though they were older. 

The sound of the gate opening cut him off. A pick-up truck plundered into Palmetto followed by a sleek black car that looked like it had no place in the end of the world. When they stopped, they left tire marks on the road. Dead sprinkled in behind the cars and Seth shouted from one of the guard towers. They ran and jumped. Swinging their arms vigorously. 

“Why isn’t it closing?”  He raised his rifle and fired off a shot.

“It’s jammed!” Matt removed a knife from where it was strapped on his camouflage cargo pants and dodged an attack. Seth took it out and then he killed another. “It won’t close. Do you want me to say it in a different language, Gordon?"

The gate operated on a generator that required a code to open and close. It wouldn’t have gotten stuck unless it ran out of power which was unlikely because everything in this town ran off solar energy. It was something that Renee, Katelyn, Aaron, and someone named Thea had set up after many hours together in a library located in a nearby safe zone. He hadn’t met Thea and had too much sense to ask if she was still alive or not. Either way, Neil thought they were geniuses to come up with the whole system by themselves.

Dan got up after seeing that there were too many dead things for Matt and Seth to handle on their own and began running toward the ajar gates. Neil followed to join in on the fight. The rest of the Foxes noticed as well and joined in on the fight. Renee’s weapon of choice was her arsenal of knives, each one she owned seemed sharper than the last. Neil had gotten a chance to see her collection before shuttering away. Allison aimed almost effortlessly, landing head shots every time. They all fought together in a way that was messily organized, like a working machine that had all the wrong parts.

The horde kept coming on while Katelyn struggled with the gate inside of the control room. Neil ran toward the door with intentions to help her or lend her cover, whichever was necessary. He stomached his past and used his blade to stab a lurker that was banging at the window, trying to break it. 

Bursting through the door he asked, “What’s happening?”

Katelyn struggled with a couple of buttons and switches across multiple control panels before answering him. “Everything is working the way it should! It’s something having to do with the mess out there!” She pointed to the gate and now Neil saw that the cars were being swarmed as well, the passengers stuck inside. He didn’t know what he’d do if everyone here died. He didn’t think he could handle it. 

Katelyn sounded like she was panicking. He noticed that she wasn't armed and handed her the only knife he had on him, happy to finally be rid of it even if it was only temporarily.

“I’ll fix it.” He said eagerly. 

“Neil don’t-”

“Fixing it!” He slammed the door so Katelyn couldn’t stop him or follow and made his way toward the gate. The geeks were dwindling there, and Neil had to take his chance. He hauled himself toward the door, ducking when a zombie hurled itself toward him, flying over his body completely. He latched onto the handle and began to push. Neil doubted he would be strong enough to bring the gate all the way to the latch but if he could get it started, he figured the gears would help with most of the slack. 

When he pushed, the gate only jutted forward slightly before rocking back. So the problem wasn't a stuck gear. He dropped to his knees and peaked into the small opening between the asphalt and the metal. There was a big rock lodged impossibly between the small space. He began to push it out with his arm but recoiled when he touched it with his the part of him that was injured. Pain jolted up his arm and he switched his position so he could kick it out instead. It took three tries and eventually it slid out onto the other side of the gigantic wall. The gate started moving forward again, cutting them off from the outside world.

Neil began to turn when he fell into the rotten arms of the dead. He wrestled himself out of it’s grip and reached for his weapon. His hand clasped for something that wasn’t there. He realized he’d left his revolver back on the porch and his back up with Katelyn. Neil threw a punch at the zombie and it landed on the ground. It reached for Neil when he put his shoe in it’s face and stomped on it's head to finish it off. 

The gate finally closed with an loud thud and the entrance to Palmetto looked more like a graveyard than a place that people took sanctuary in. He was still stomping when Seth climbed down the tower. The head looked more like a puddle of jello than the remains of a person now. Dead were still slamming at the walls, their groans audible over the commotion of the Foxes. 

Matt put an arm on Neil's shoulder and said, "Dude, you messed up that guys face."

“What the fuck, Minyard?” Seth shouted. “Why would you bring a horde to our gates?”

A second Aaron climbed out of the black car and pulled a cigarette and lighter out of his pocket. “Kevin’s hurt. He needs medical attention. Wymack says A. S. A. P.” 

Abby, Betsy and a large man were carrying an unconscious boy out of the truck, a trail of fresh blood behind them. They rushed him into a house and Neil couldn’t tell if the blood was from the hoard or the boy. 

“He’ll live,” He lit the cigarette and took a drag. “I think.”

The door to Abby’s house slammed closed and Aaron realized that the fight here was over. He rushed to the house as well, knowing he would be put to better use with them than he would be out here, where the Foxes had started a different type of battle.

“Good to see you too, brother!” The blonde gave a cheery wave before returning to his cigarette. 

Matt scratched the back of his head, “We’re gonna need to burn these…”

“I’m alive, thank you for noticing.”

Nicky spoke up first, “An-”

“Stop being a little shit, Andrew.” A girl who towered over the Andrew stepped out of the back of the truck with multiple bags in tow and dropped them at her feet. “We were on our way back when we came across one of the safe zones. Kevin went to go take a piss but someone jumped us.”

“You were attacked?” Dan asked incredulously.

“He was stabbed in the side, broke his left hand fighting the guy off. He was unconscious by the time we found him.” She sounded sad, but pulled a small smile onto her face. “We found these though.” She reached inside the bag and pulled out a couple of candy bars. They were no doubt stale and gross due to age. “Worth it?”

Andrew threw the cigarette into the pile of bodies Matt, Seth, and Erik had started to build, snatched a Snickers out of the girls hand and took a bite out of it. "Guy had a Raven's tattoo. We think they've located us."

He finally seemed to take notice of Neil, who was still recovering from the new mess on his converse. “Whose this?” He pointed the half eaten candy bar up and down in Neil’s direction.  

“This is Neil.” Renee stepped forward, wiping blood off of her knives onto her black pants. “Neil, this is Thea and Andrew.” She tugged two of the bags Thea dropped onto her shoulders and gestured for her and Allison to follow along. 

“Play nice!” Allison called over her shoulder as the trio headed toward what Neil assumed was the pantry to unload all of the things they collected on their excursion. Seth began walking the perimeter, no doubt checking for holes in the impenetrable armor around the town, and Dan walked along with him.

Neil turned to help with the pile of bodies. He picked up the arm of what used to be a women and began to pull her along the road, toward the stack. 

It was too late when he realized that he was being yanked back by the tag of his shirt. The sun only stung his eyes for a second before a face blocked it out completely. His mouth tasted like iron and before the face became clear, he thought that he had tripped on his own volition.

Above him was Andrew, looking extremely bored. Neil didn’t know when it happened, but he became aware of a knife pointing in his side. One slight movement and he would be punctured.  

“Is that true?” Neil didn’t answer because he wasn’t sure what Andrew was asking, but when it came to him, he doubted anything was.

“What?”

“Is your name really  Neil?”

“Yes.” Then, “Can you take the knife out of my side?”

Andrew completely disregarded his request. 

“What are you doing here, Neil?” 

Hiding, would be the answer that was true, but he was focused on survival, not honesty. “Nothing. Matt found me half dead. I’m not doing anything but living. Or trying to...again, the knife.”

Andrew finally pulled his knife from Neil’s side and studied the blade with a dull interest. 

“I leave for two weeks and Matthew Donovan Boyd becomes the patron saint of idiots.” The sun blinded him once more as Andrew walked off in a direction Neil didn’t bother following. He shouted, and his voice sounded far away. “Nothing, Neil says! And we just believe him!” 

Reality came crashing back down on him when the events that just transpired registered in his mind. If it was the Raven's were closing in on Palmetto then this really was his Kevin. He rationalized this by thinking about how they operated. If it was just a Kevin in the woods by himself, a random Kevin, they wouldn't have attacked. They would've followed him back to his group and waited until they were all in the same place. Only then would they make their move. The only reason they would be so rash is if this was Kevin Day their Kevin. And since the two parties shared the boy, Neil knew. Neil knew that despite thinking he was two steps ahead, the Ravens would always remain three. They were a terrible group who hated losing their members and would do almost anything to get them back. The dots should've been easier to connect, but he just didn't want them to touch at all. Nothing was as clear as it was until Andrew had mentioned the tattoos.

When Kevin was well enough and knew that they were both in the same place, and that the Ravens were near, he would tell everyone the truth. That Neil Josten is a liar. A liar who had taken part in dooming them all. And when the Raven's found out? No doubt they would think they'd hit the jackpot. Catching them both at once. Two for the price of one. 

Neil figured he could cross that burning bridge when he was forced to haul ass over it. He stood up, grabbed an arm, and began to pull.

-

Walking back toward the blue house on the side of the road was starting to become muscle memory to Neil. He’d spent the rest of the day hauling bodies into piles and setting them on fire. They stopped when it became dark and the fires would become noticeable. Neil's worries were finally working their way to the front of his mind. The past taking and absorbing every empty spot of his brain. He thought he was past the point of his life that had revolved around the Moriyamas but he should've known that there was no “point”. His life was the Moriyama’s.

After making his way up the carpeted steps and on the landing of the second floor, he took a moment and paused in front of his bedroom door. Truly, it wasn't his bedroom, it was one of Dan and Matt’s spares that had turned into his room when he'd gotten here. The door was slightly ajar, but only in a way that he would notice. 

He’d grown up in a world where slightly opened doors were probably not just an effect of the wind or an overpowered air conditioner. The last time this had happened and he didn’t notice, it ended with him being held down by a bandit, knife pointing into his neck, blood dripping onto his shirt. It was only because of his mother that he had made it out alive. It was only ever because of her that he'd made it out alive.

Neil shook off the memory. It had no place here other than to remind him to be cautious. Pulling his revolver from where it was latched to his leg, he crept toward the door and slid in between the small crack.  

He positioned his firearm so it was aimed toward the only humanoid figure he could make out, but he didn't shoot. There was no quiet way to go about this part, and the person in the room definitely heard when he had pulled the hammer back. 

It wasn't something dead, but a very much alive Andrew. Neil only found this out because Andrew had raised his hands and turned slowly so Neil knew not to get any ideas about ending his life.

“Oh no,” he said sarcastically, “don't kill me.”

Neil peeked behind him and saw that his duffel bag lay open, his clothes and provisions he'd gathered while on the road ruffled and spread across the floor. He lowered his gun and set it on the side table.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Oh...nothing.” Andrew looked behind him before reaching into his pants and pulling something from the front of them. It was a journal, spine barely being held together, leather cover worn with age, but Neil recognized it even in the dark of the room. He had owned this journal since the outbreak had started and possibly even before. He’d written in it every opportunity he could. Documented tiny and aspects of his life. Both relevant and irrelevant. “If you consider a little light reading nothing.”

A wicked smile flashed across his lips as Neil lunged for the book. Andrew swung it at Neil's chest with such force that he had to double over and drop to the shaggy floor. He hurled the book at Neil's crumpled figure and pushed him the rest of the way to the floor. 

"I thought you were trouble, but I had no idea that you were this much trouble. I'm not finished yet but it's getting really interesting. Too bad you interrupted."

“What is your problem?” He was furious. It seemed like Andrew had been dragging Neil to the floor all day.

“What happened five years ago, Neil? Or is it Stephan today? Oh, and don't lie to me.” 

“Fuck you,” he rasped. “That’s what happened five years ago.” 

“I’ve considered it.” Andrew crouched down and snatched the cuff of Neil's pant leg. “Wrong answer, though.”

Neil kicked him off and sat up, pushing himself toward the open door without standing. His stomach was still in pain from when Andrew whacked him with his book. Andrew was faster than him, only because Neil was injured beyond relief. Tired from dragging bodies much bigger than him around all day. The door slammed and Neil's back pounded against it. He let out an oof.

He now stood over Neil. “How old were you? Ten? Eleven? I wonder why you didn’t turn.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do.” Andrew was crouching again, but this time, Neil was pinned against the door, in between his legs. “Because your little book there says that seven years ago, you were bitten by something quite unfriendly. And it says that after that, you were running. From what, is what I was wondering.” Slowly, he was leaning closer and closer until Neil could feel his breath against his face. "I think I know now." 

"Shut up."

“And this scar. Neil, how did you get this scar? Who gave it to you?” His finger caressed the ruined skin under his eye where his father had once helped brand him with the number three. Neil shivered. Not only from the memory but from the fact that Andrew was so close. His chest tightened and he felt like the world was ending. Again. He felt like the world was ending again. “If you tell me, I’ll kill them. I'll kill all of them. You just have to tell me.” Andrew’s voice as barely above a whisper. 

He was thinking about it more acutely now. Riko Moriyama and Kevin Day sat in the room along with Mary Hatford, Nathan Wesninski, Ichirou Moriyama, and Tetsuji Moriyama. They put the needle in his skin, forever painting him in black. A mark that they said everyone wanted, but he knew it was a lie. They told him he was being ungrateful but it meant nothing to him. He remembered cutting it off the night he escaped. The bleeding. He was so used to bleeding now. A thousand different feelings in Neil were being brought out of him at once; all of them adjacent to terror. One must've been shown on his face, only for the briefest of seconds. Andrew noticed it, and backed away slowly, almost regretfully. 

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll find out soon enough. I always find what I want.”

Neil pushed Andrew back the rest of the way so he had room to breath. He hadn’t had a panic attack in such a long time that he’d forgotten what the beginning of one felt like. 

He stood up gripping the door knob for support. He made his way to his duffel bag and began to place his things where they belong in his Neil Josten way of organization. It calmed him, but only a bit. 

“Get out, Andrew. Please.” Neil didn't look at Andrew when he said it. He just focused on his bag.

“I don’t like that word,” but he was opening the door anyway, Neil heard the creak. “You’d do well to remember that.”

“Then I won’t ask nicely. Just leave.” The door slammed once again, but this time it was marking an exit. 

When he was sure that Andrew was gone, Neil threw the journal down on the bed in a fit of rage and watched as it opened to a page that the last reader favored.

He looked down at it, and noticed that a page had been torn out. It had also been his favorite.

“No.” He was panicking again. He flipped through the journal and noticed that it was only this page that was taken.

The one that was torn out only had one word on it. It was a confession of the night his life had changed forever; a confession of the night he thought his life had ended. 

In the upper right corner was the date. July 19th, five years ago. On the first line there was the word “bitten”.