It's been a long time, but I finished DMMO, so this was next on the list
MIKE’S STORY
“Everyone has a story to tell, whether or not anyone has to or wants to hear it,” Mike said. Sam had a splitting headache and didn’t want to hear it, and Mike could tell. All the more reason as to why he was going to hear it. "Mine starts in the suburbs…"
Sam sighed. He might as well shut his eyes and either listen or fall to sleep. That beating had him exhausted.
“I had just finished med school. Talk about a bitch. I get my life together and boom, world ends. It happened slowly at first. I don't know what your walk of life was, but where I was it started with the homeless first. We all just presumed that it was a problem with them. They were starving. They were ravenous. They were eating each other. Of course, there were zombie apocalypse theories. But, we ignored that. The thing was that places that usually threw out food stopped. Workers were taking the stuff home.
Working class folk were struggling to feed their kids, so they weren't letting anything go to waste and weren't very generous with panhandlers. I watched one bite a woman's fingers off as she tried to shoo him away from her car.
My father wanted to test these people for a virus or drug usage. Started offering them free meat in exchange for DNA and experiments. They came in droves. He had to ration the free meat. It wasn't enough. Three men ate a woman in the waiting room.
They released the others, detained those three for tests. One told my father, "We aren't sick. We're starving."
And honestly, Red… WHAT did we expect, as a people? As a society that for more than my lifetime had more empty houses than it did homeless people. That had billionaires with enough money to feed all of them outlawing even the most meager attempts to help others?”
Sam realized that those statements were rhetorical questions. He'd always thought that was bull, too. He remembered police telling his father he could be held liable for anything that happened from trying to help someone eat. He recalled his mother declining from giving rides to strangers because the last time she did, she got a pricey ticket.
"When there were no more poor people, to exploit, no more oppressed backs for us to break for our comfort, the rich became humbled. Those in power learned that they had created this. They were in charge and they used hatred to stay that way. Kindness was punishable," Mike said. "You could be charged with crimes for being a good neighbor. The wealthy few used up everything that we had and those who suffered first, were the ones who didn't have anything to begin with. There comes a time when you just know that you've got nothing left to lose. That time came and wolves were made. Those of us who figured out how to survive when we had nothing to live for, we are going to inherit the earth. Not the meek. Not the prey. But, the strong, the willing, the hunter.
I realized that when I tied my mother up and ate my father slowly. I had to use my medical skills to keep him alive, until there was no more meat that I could eat without killing him. I had to ration him, and even feed my mother some, because she had to stay alive. I really wish something else would have happened that I didn't have to do it. I really wish the same thing didn't have to happen to her. The idea of a pack came much later, unfortunately. others began to follow me try to do what I did - they couldn't make the meat last. Every pack needs a leader, but every pack also needs a doctor. I was both."
"Why is your pack so small and easy to kill, if you're meant to inherit the earth?"
"Meant?" Mike repeated, laughing. "Son, the earth is at its end. It's already ours. It happened. We run it. The last living man will be wolf. Humanity has concluded. The human race consumed until there was nothing left to usurp. We destroyed everything until the only thing left was mankind. The need to survive, to feed, to move forward is instinct. We created zombie lore and partook in it never seeing the humanity of the diseased. It was much easier to see them as monsters and to empathize with the humans that they chased. When we watched those things, we were the man, not the monster. We didn't know for all of those years that we were and would always be, both the man and the monster. We don't even really get to choose which. Instinct does. You killed Hank, to protect yourself. I get it. But, he was one of mine. I don't want to let that slide. I want to offer you a portion of the inheritance. I'll need more hunters. I'll need someone with instinct."
Sam furrowed his eyebrows. "Half your pack just beat the living shit out of me. You think they want me running with y'all?"
"Their wants don't make it to my table. I'm asking you what you want? To be one of the survivors, or one of the slaughtered?*
"What about that girl- the cub?" Sam wondered. "You gonna hunt her, or try to collect her?"
"If she killed one of yours, and you're one of mine, of course we go after her. Her mother crossed us. She's got a lot of meat on her bones. It's a win-win, to be honest."
"I don't wanna see her hurt," Sam said. "I think her mom did something to my meemaw. But, she seems innocent."
"The innocent are easiest to kill."
"Then why am I still here?"
Mike stared at Sam for a moment, then chuckled loudly. "Oh, Red. We'll talk more later. I've got to make some rounds. Think about your options. For your convenience, they were survivor or slaughtered. See you in two shakes of a wolf's tail. J/K wolves never shake."
When Mike left, Sam whispered, "This motherfucker is crazy!"
"As a motherfucker!" He heard a girl's voice say.
"Cub?" He called and tried to look around. He was so happy to hear her voice! She was not only still alive, but she had come back… If that was even her and not his imagination. He felt pretty faint.
"My name is Mercedes! Slide to the left a little."
"Is this like when you die and get greeted by an angel? Are you an angel, Mercedes?"
"If I say yes, will you slide your butt to the left?"
"I'm very light-headed, Angel of Mercy." He said, trying to slide over.
"Just a little more and I can take you to your meemaw."
"Meemaw?" He scooted more and then yelped when the floor flipped and he fell onto Kurt and Mercedes. Kurt chained the doorway back up as Mercedes freed Sam from his restraints and used more of her shirt to see about the gash over his eye. "Mercedes, you look and sound like that cub… Really pretty. That’s what an angel should look like."
“That IS her, Boy." Kurt said. "Get up. The old lady doesn't have much time." They collected Sam and helped him to walk towards his grandmother's body. "We're likely gonna be burying two bodies…"
"Don't," Mercedes pleaded. "Don't even make me think about that. They're going to reunite, talk, say goodbye, probably, and then we'll get him some help… we can get him some help, right?"
"Mercedes, look at him!" Kurt insisted and let go of Sam so that he could nearly collapse. She held him up. "I let you talk me into getting him out of that house, but they will be on our tails soon. There's no way that he can make it." He sighed and walked ahead, since he knew exactly where they were going.
Mercedes adjusted Sam and hoisted him on to her back, piggyback style. She heard him snoring. That couldn't be good. He probably had a concussion. He couldn't sleep. She dug her fingernails into his thighs and he jumped up. “Stay awake, okay?”
“Mercedes?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you an angel or the cub?”
“Umm… I’m… Gonna make sure you’re safe. Is that good enough?” She wondered. He held on tightly to her and nodded. She couldn’t see him, though. “Sam?”
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