Writing Time: Free Write #9: Team Domesticus

by on Oct.20, 2011, under Entertainment, Free Write, Writing

So we had a long three parter for the last few free writes. Let’s keep it short and sweet today.

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Team Domesticus

One. Two. She held her breath and began to count. She was couched in the bushes out of sight from the street. This gave her no real line of sight to the street in return but she could hear their shambling steps. Perhaps thirty feet away.

Four. Five. She knew she could hold her breath for nearly a minute. That would keep her hidden until they were right in line with her position, as long as they kept their pace. Of course the forces of the undead were never really known for their congeniality.

Seven. Eight. She glanced at her watch. Nearly ten seconds. One of them moaned. She froze, her mind racing with alternative plans in case they had somehow sensed her. She was still holding her breath. They shouldn’t be able to sense her. Of course she still hid in the bushes but that was because she was paranoid.

Eleven. They were both moaning now and had stopped shambling. She would have to take a breath soon and they wouldn’t be in position. She slowly dared to raise her head high enough to peer over the hedge.

Thirteen. Fourteen. Their backs were to her. They were staring at one of the houses across the street. Laying on a porch banister was a cat. A real living cat. She couldn’t believe it. The cat’s tail was swishing slowly, ears forward, and yellow eyes focused on the two figures standing at the front of the lawn.

Seventeen. The second one started shambling through the grass towards the cat, arms raising.. Her heart lept into her throat and she almost gasped. They were going to eat the kitty! She rose to her feet slowly and carefully reached for her pistol. Her plan was shot to heck now. She walked as slowly as they did, drawing her pistol, taking the time to screw on the silencer. With their backs to her, they wouldn’t notice her unless she was unusually loud, like if she breathed.

Nineteen. Twenty. The first had once been a man. It wore a tattered sports coat and shorts, both dirty of course and was waiting for the second to return with the cat. The second one had been a woman. It only really had a half a shirt left although most of what was bare was also caked with mud and dirt. Even at this distance she had to wrinkle her nose. The cat, however, remained on the nonplussed save her tail swishing. If the cat noticed or cared about the naked former woman approaching there was no sign. Not even a twitch of an ear.

Twenty three. Twenty four. Twenty Five. She was close enough now to take out the first one but the second one would raise the alarm before she could shoot it. That would compromise the entire operation. She had her pistol trained on the former man’s head but she agonized over pulling the trigger. It would save the cat’s life. Probably one of the last felis domesticus left in the world.

Twenty six. It would also get people killed. She began lowering the gun. The former female took one more step and lunged towards the cat.

Twenty seven. Two blurry shapes fell from the sky.

Twenty eight. The second one collapsed under one of the shapes, this one large and dark brown. The other shape, gray and white and just as large, charged at the two still standing forms: sports coat and her.

Twenty nine. She brought back up her pistol and aimed.

Thirty. The gray and white creature leaped and knocked the former man to the ground. The crunch of bones and dried skin was kind of sickening. Her hands kept the pistol trained but for some reason her brain was telling her not to pull the trigger, even though she could not make sense of what she was seeing.

She gasped for air explosively and both bodies in the lawn in front of her jerked spasmodically. She drew a hand to her mouth reflexively, knowing she had already doomed herself, when she realized that neither target was moaning. Their throats had been ripped out but the pair of huge dogs standing atop them. The gray and white one, some kind of Husky, had made short work of chewing through the throat and was now shaking the dead man by the neck in its powerful jaws like a rag doll. She heard the snap.

The other dog was Doberman of unusual size. He had landed on the dead woman’s back , knocked it to its stomach, and chewed through the back of its neck efficiently.  The dark brown dog was now standing atop the mostly naked body with a hind leg lifted, a small stream of pee covering splashing across a naked butt, cleaning off a bit of the grime.

She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

The cat yawned now and slowly stood up, careful to make sure to stretch her back by lifting her butt and stretching her front paws, before she came to all fours and looked directly at the last two-legged being visible on the street. She was sure there was a smug grin on the cat’s face. With a graceful leap the cat landed on the Doberman’s back, who promptly walked over to their companion. The Husky was pawing at the now detached head of the man like it was a ball. Some form of silent communication passed between the three animals because the Husky whined, quietly, then lifted his hind leg to pee on the head. The Husky looked at her and wagged his tail after he finished but bounded after Doberman and his cat passenger, who were now a house away up the street.

She finally lowered her gun and stared at the trio. Human Allied Mission would never believe this story. A cat and dog team, taking down two semi-fresh walkers?

“Report.” The com in her ear whispered to her. She reached up and touched the button on the collar around her throat and sub-vocalized. “Mission accomplished. All patrols in sector G dispatched. Phase two is go.”

“Roger.”

“Be advised. Two dogs and a cat are roaming the neighborhood. Uninfected but still dangerous.”

“Dangerous? To who?”

“To the zombies, it seems.”

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Often in zombie apocalypses, the animals get the short end of the stick. Either they become zombies themselves, or they’re just scared and run away. Semi-inspired by my cat, Zoe, I suspect that our pets would instead decided to fight against the zombie hordes just like we would. Of course cats would run the show while dogs do all the work but that’s just the natural order of things, right?

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