"Uh, are you the one who saved me?" I asked her.
The woman whipped her head around to face me, her purple eyes locking onto mine with a predatory glare. Her stare was intense, almost like she was sizing me up. This woman was anything but ordinary.
"Thank you," I said, trying to show my gratitude.
"Grrr..."
The woman let out a low, throaty growl that seemed to vibrate through the air. As I had suspected, she was infected, but she wasn't lunging at me or baring her teeth. Her demeanor was oddly calm compared to the other infected.
Jessica had been right. This woman might be humanity's hope. Jessica had seen it, and now I could too. Here was an infected who not only exhibited self-preservation but also demonstrated the capacity to save someone and resist the urge to devour human flesh. It was both eerie and intriguing.
"...Can you... understand me?" I asked carefully, my voice barely above a whisper. I didn't want to alarm her.
The woman growled at me again, her eyes burning with intensity. Despite her fierce glare, the sight of her cheeks bulging comically with the tentacle in her mouth was oddly humorous.
After a tense moment, she gave a slow nod, confirming that she could understand me. This was... incredibly fascinating. Though she probably couldn't speak.
"Do you remember who you are?" I asked, my voice tentative.
With her teeth clamped onto the tentacle, she shook her head. So, she didn't remember herself, huh?
Suddenly, she stood up, her movements sharp and deliberate. She fixed her gaze on me for a moment before her eyes darted to an unusual direction. Her focus seemed distant and then, with a purposeful gesture, she pointed toward it. Turning back to me, she let out a low, guttural groan, clearly signaling me to follow her.
I rose and followed her lead. We emerged into a desolate area, strewn with rubble and the shattered remnants of structures that once stood tall. The place we'd been earlier was a cramped, cave-like nook filled with debris. It appeared to be man-made, though I couldn't shake the feeling that it might have been crafted by the infected.
"Grrr...!" she growled again. She sniffed the air, her head swiveling as she surveyed the area. She began to circle around, as if tracking something unseen.
"Um, is there something you want to show me?" I asked her.
"Graaaa!" She turned to me, letting out a fierce growl.
"I'll take that as a yes," I replied. As I followed her, I couldn't help but notice that her behavior seemed almost human. Despite the unmistakable aura of infection and her guttural growls, her actions were strangely reminiscent of a person, not a mindless monster.
"Do you like what you're seeing?" Jessica asked, her voice carrying a hint of curiosity.
"Grrr...!" The woman growled in response, her irritation clear. It was as if she didn't want to engage with Jessica. Jessica took a step back, her face falling into a sad expression. It was evident that she was a bit hurt by the woman's refusal to connect.
Despite her standoffish demeanor, the woman wasn't going berserk like most infected would. She remained eerily calm, maintaining a level of control.
"Well then, I suppose we should head back to Hope," Jessica said, her tone shifting to businesslike. The battleship began to move slowly at first but then surged forward with sudden speed, heading towards Hope Island, the last bastion of humanity.
***
Jessica's POV
This was a truly monumental moment for humanity, I thought, as I peered through the double-sided mirror. On the other side, the infected was moving around the room with an unsettling curiosity.
She was doing things no Demon Zombie would normally do: sitting cross-legged on the floor, scanning her surroundings with wide, inquisitive eyes, nodding and shaking her head as if trying to understand something, and even scratching at her hair with an oddly human-like manner. To me, she looked more like a newborn human discovering her environment than a zombie.
It had already been five months since we found her. We had named her Shredica, a blend of "Shred" from her transformation and "Dica" to give her a personal name.
Shredica had been staying in the white room, not sleeping—something she clearly didn't need—but strangely, she continued to eat, even though she had no biological need for food. Whenever she wanted to eat something, she would growl, which seemed to be her way of communicating.
I was examining the data collected from the room's monitoring systems. Her statistics were all within the normal range for an infected, aligning with what you'd expect. She appeared human in many ways, but the fact that she was infected was undeniable, with blood samples proving as much. So why was she so different from the others?
It also appeared that this woman was from the era when demons declared war on humanity—back in 2012, according to the Gregorian calendar. She looked like she had witnessed everything from that tumultuous time. Had the passage of a century since then so drastically altered her? She had been infected for around 100 years, but that didn't seem to be the sole reason.
We had found other infected individuals who had been afflicted for the same length of time, yet none exhibited the unique behaviors that Shredica displayed.
"Have you learned anything yet?" Evan asked, his eyes fixed on the double-sided mirror.
"Not yet," I replied. "But maybe I'll find something if I can just—"
A sudden click interrupted me.
I turned to look at Evan. One of his arms was positioned behind him, clearly having done something with the door. My suspicion grew.
"Evan, why did you lock the door?"