The pair walked side by side in the desolate land, scanning everything with hawk-like eyes. Steel was quiet by her side, simply following along with soft thuds of his backpack against his torso. It felt heavy just from how barely audible those sounds were. It remained secure to his being, the most valuable resource to anyone.
"So," she said dryly, eyeing him from the side of her gaze. "Where are you heading to?"
Steel stared ahead, a sense of realization dawning upon his blurred mind.
"I don't know. I just... roam," he replied softly, the coarse tone a testament of whatever he had to go through.
'I've seen others sinking, drowned by their own despair. He's barely different from the things we kill... a dead man walking.'
She gave a light nod, focusing on the path ahead. Forest to the side, clear view through the trees. No undead was likely to come from that direction, something that did put her mind slightly at ease.
'I have to remain alert.'
Again, her eyes raked over Steel, seeing bits and bits of stories surrounding him. Stains on his clothing, so many of them that he probably had never thought of changing them for at least a couple of weeks. The leather jacket, worn yet still intact on the outer layer, save for a few scratches. What had once been a white hoodie now bore dark stains across the soft material. Downwards, she took note of the shoes, probably the only thing well-kept about him.
'Good shoes. Best to take care of your feet so you can run. He's got some common sense, it seems.'
"I won't strike," he declared bluntly, eyes already trained on hers as she looked up. "I have no reason to."
She scoffed, gripping her odachi's handle with suspicion, taking the words the complete opposite way. Steel simply glanced lower, but made no effort to take out a weapon of his own. He just stared, slowly spreading his arms out in an open gesture that shouted "End me if you think I'm lying", and it gave her pause for a moment.
Acheron's gaze narrowed, scrambling her thoughts to figure out what he was playing at. Backpack full of resources, a good instinct to survive, yet there he was, embracing death with open arms, placing the weight of his life in her calloused palms.
Their eyes clashed in a silent bout, one of resilience and untold stories. Despite their dead appearance, his eyes held something within, veiled by a thick blanket of fog. He had forgotten plenty, perhaps as a way to suppress trauma.
Steel's thoughts were similar about the woman regarding him with a pair of cold, violet eyes. Mere glimpses managed to make it past the violet veneer, and yet she carried herself differently.
"You're hurting," he said blankly, lowering his arms. Her sword slid out, resting on his shoulder against his neck. Like venom, her words poured out.
"Who do you think yourself to speak like you know me?"
"I'm more of a mirror in this case," he replied curtly, continuing in the same tone. "I speak early and with little memory of my deeds, but what I do remember... I dislike as much as I do the undead. I see something similar in your gaze."
He took a step closer, feeling the cold steel eat at his flesh, drawing blood in soft, trickling lines. She didn't waver, yet Steel's boldness intrigued her.
"What's so similar?" she replied calmly, putting a bit of pressure on her sword.
"We both saw hell."
That's all he had to say, just reaching up to push the blade aside and look further ahead.
"Let's keep going. If we're outside at night, we might not see tomorrow."
She stood still for a moment, watching Steel walk away a few meters before looking over his shoulder at her.
"You won't go unless I come with you?" she groaned, sheathing her sword with mild annoyance.
"You lack resources. I'll share mine... payment for saving me."
The deal sounded too good to pass up, the weightless backpack only now registered by her senses. It had gotten to the point that having it on or not didn't make much of a difference. Reluctant, she followed, keeping a close eye on him.
The uneventful walk reached a halt as half-washed traces of what had once been a dirt road pointed to something existing further inside, shrouded by the weight of nature and its many shadows.
"Too random."
Steel's muttering tangled in her ear, so she kept listening, arms crossed over her chest. The man followed the trail with his eyes, trying to find an opening in the foliage. It wasn't as dense as other areas, yet it provided no answer.
"Come. It could lead to a safe spot."
"A cabin, perhaps."
The surprise was pleasant, if not a bit odd. She kept trying to piece together what little she could of Steel. The unknowns were many, piled together in a huge warning sign she couldn't ignore, and yet Steel had seemed honest—something she'd learned to avoid ever since disaster struck, since most used it as bait to lure in the already weakened survivors and take advantage of them.
She recalled such days with grimace, shaking her head lightly while Steel focused on the path. It was a gamble, that's sure, but the allure of rest with minimal chances of zombies closing in on them was irresistible.
Shadows grew and morphed together as the sun crumbled down, but the duo had found exactly what they were searching for. The wood was still in good condition, having weathered time with vigor humans had lost bit by bit. They both stepped closer, with Steel yanking out the steel pipe.
"That might be a nuisance since inside. Why not use the axe at least?"
Steel's gaze fell on her, his palm trembling softly on the pipe. The weapon rested on his backpack, covered in grime that spoke of the exploits past, monsters felled and butchered ruthlessly.
"No. I'm good."
With a gruff of disapproval, she slid out her sword, pushing the door open slowly. Ready to step in, she found Steel's pipe before her, blocking the entrance.
"What are you—"
She was cut off by Steel walking inside, pipe aimed at the floor.
BANG.
The sound traveled across the building at once, making space for a wave of silence and confusion. The furniture remained where it was, covered in dust. The wardrobe didn't open, and no undead came out from what he assumed to be the pantry.
'Perhaps I gave him too much credit.'
The floor creaked under the weight of her foot, an instant in which Steel motioned for her to remain still. He breathed in, then spoke up loudly.
"Come out right now!"
'I guess he snapped long ago.'
In the stillness of the cabin, under the settling sun, a gut-wrenching moan answered from upstairs, followed by the sound of shuffling steps.
He looked back at her, nodding for her to prepare, just in case. From the darkness of the second floor, a walking carcass appeared, its skin broken apart, split like the back of a whipped man.
Steel wasted no time, stepping closer, pipe in hand, grabbed by one end with the right, while the left angled it forward. He pushed and stabbed forward, despite having no spear-like end to it. With a thud, the zombie came down the stairs, ending at his feet. He stepped on its head, over and over until the thing stopped moving.
"Keep your weapon out, just in case. I had times when some lingered in corners, unbothered by the sound."
"I must admit, you act rather strange. I expected a silent approach where we check and clear the place ourselves."
He kept watch for the stairs, thinking that one more might be on its way. Luckily, he was wrong.
"I work like this. Sound gets them out quite often. Trick works well depending on how you execute it."
With that, he pulled out a flashlight from the side pocket of his backpack, lighting up the room. His arms instantly grabbed on to the heavier bits of furniture after placing his flashlight on the dusty table. It was a rather sleek thing, so he didn't even bother with it.
"Move," he spoke out, closing the door. He locked it, the placed bits of furniture against it, barricading it. Acheron helped, blocking the back door before pulling the blinds. No light would give out their location, at least not as easily as before.
"I seem to have underestimated you, Steel," she sighed, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I saw too many things to trust people blindly."
He nodded, showing no emotions at that.
"I get it. Shit happens."
'How... eloquent.'
Pipe back in his hand, he made haste upstairs, motioning for her to follow. They split, checking out every room, even the attic.
"Clear," she declared, putting her weapon away.
Steel nodded, looking around the place with a critical, tired gaze.
"Good spot."
His feet carried him downstairs, and Acheron, still wary, followed. He checked every cabinet, drawer, everything, but found nothing useful besides some duct tape and the basic kitchen items.
With a strained motion, Steel placed his backpack on the table.
"Suit yourself. Take what you need."
The stuffed bag stood there, staring at her just as much as she did at it. She had questioned him earlier, but the nagging voice in the back of her head kept sending out warnings. Slowly, attentive, she opened it, looking through the cans. She pulled out a few, stealing glances at him. Steel had found a couple of knives, which he inspected before putting aside three of them.
Unbothered, he took one and pulled up both pant legs. With quick movements, he cut some rags, taping them to his shins before doing the same with the knives, making sure they wouldn't go through the material.
Glancing her way, Steel began speaking.
"You never know. Some extra precaution never hurt."
"If it were not the end of the world, I would've called you insane, but now... I have to admit that you take precaution at every step. I still wonder how those undead managed to get to you."
He hummed tiredly, the dark circles under his eyes looking ever worse in the flashlight's beam.
"They never tire. We do."
With that, he fixed his pants back into place, moving around to test the feeling. Acheron finished packing her cans, leaving one out to make for her meal. Steel did the same, grabbing a random can and a can opener, popping it open with a few quick movements. The opener slid her way on the table, and she gladly accepted it.
They ate in silence, finally able to rest, even if for a moment.
"Thank you," she whispered after finishing the can. Her stomach finally found solace, going silent.
"No need. I'm merely paying my debt, bit by bit."
He stood up, grabbing his backpack, now half empty—and he didn't even bat an eye at it.
"I'll go rest. Take care, and good night."
The stairs squeaked under his weight, followed by the sound of a door closing. Acheron looked to the source of light, contemplating her situation in silence.
'He doesn't seem bad, but... I should be careful.'