She opened her mouth and maggots pour out but, poor manners aside, she was a lovely person. She was one of the few Turned who seemed to recognise that he didn't mean them any harm, that he was just another survivor like them, only more... living.
Any time he steered his boat passed the half-sunken library roof where she camped out with a few others, she was the only one who didn't snarl or rush at him. She stood and watched him go, eyes never losing sight of him all the while. He came to think of her as a friend, perhaps the only friend he'd ever have.
She wasn't always at the library, sometimes he'd catch a glimpse of her crawling into an open window near the water and wonder what she could be searching for. As far as he knew, the Turned didn't eat - they were eaten slowly by parasitic larvae and collapsed as soon as they'd given their condition to the next poor bastard.
He'd lost everyone to it and hadn't seen a single familiar face in almost three years. She became familiar to him, a landmark out at sea in a world that was all but drowned. The tips of skyscrapers jutted out of the water and all the supplies they contained had sustained him quite well but he knew his days were as limited as hers.
She'd be entirely consumed soon enough and then he'd be left alone with two options - carry on and turn back. To carry on meant to sail to another city, keep following the trail of skyscrapers and old monuments and their supplies until there's nothing left but open ocean and a slow death. To turn back meant to Turn and lose everything he currently was.
He resolved to keep going for as long as he could see her.
When she went - he would follow.
And he knew it wouldn't be long.
Any time he steered his boat passed the half-sunken library roof where she camped out with a few others, she was the only one who didn't snarl or rush at him. She stood and watched him go, eyes never losing sight of him all the while. He came to think of her as a friend, perhaps the only friend he'd ever have.
She wasn't always at the library, sometimes he'd catch a glimpse of her crawling into an open window near the water and wonder what she could be searching for. As far as he knew, the Turned didn't eat - they were eaten slowly by parasitic larvae and collapsed as soon as they'd given their condition to the next poor bastard.
He'd lost everyone to it and hadn't seen a single familiar face in almost three years. She became familiar to him, a landmark out at sea in a world that was all but drowned. The tips of skyscrapers jutted out of the water and all the supplies they contained had sustained him quite well but he knew his days were as limited as hers.
She'd be entirely consumed soon enough and then he'd be left alone with two options - carry on and turn back. To carry on meant to sail to another city, keep following the trail of skyscrapers and old monuments and their supplies until there's nothing left but open ocean and a slow death. To turn back meant to Turn and lose everything he currently was.
He resolved to keep going for as long as he could see her.
When she went - he would follow.
And he knew it wouldn't be long.
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