I might be standing above a huge evil lair right now, I thought, slightly panicking. And not only that: according to this letter, 01 was safer than the other facilities — something to do with containment protocols and this... Trillium?
Continuing my search, I found that the second and third drawers were basically empty, except for a few weird writing implements and one blank, uninteresting notebook. Boring.
Pocketing only the report and the small note, I put everything else back in place and closed the drawers.
Okay, time to decide, I thought to myself.
I wasn't thrilled to return. It tasted too much like failure, like being back to square one. However, it was clear that a reevaluation of my plans was in order.
The walk proved to be longer and much, much more dangerous than I had expected. The existence of those men (zombies?) changed everything, they were too big of a variable to be ignored. Besides, if what I had read until now was to be believed, this whole place was a big, isolated facility in the middle of nowhere; escaping might take a while. I had to prepare for a marathon, not a sprint.
After doing a final check on everything, I moved over to the hole in the living room. I didn't want to stay here a minute more. There was, however, another reason behind my decision to go back to 01: the girl and the man down in the basement. If I was right and this place was too big to escape in a day or two, they would not survive without help. What was it that they called it? The rule of three? Three weeks without food, three days without water, three minutes without air.
Lying on the ground right outside the hole, I surveyed the horizon for a while. There was no movement. The biggest problem would be the sun; it made me too visible. The terrain was mostly covered with medium-sized grass, not too short, but not tall enough that I could walk undetected in broad daylight. I decided I'd be crawling most of the way, going from cover to cover.
I set my eyes on a big tree far away, more or less in the direction I was going; that would be my first stop. I really hoped I properly remembered the way back to 01 though.
Looking at the sky, it was clearly still very early; the air was misty and the light reflected softly on the ground. I was hoping to benefit from the first hours of the day when the sun wasn't too high up yet, so I set off. Today was going to be a long day.
***********
"Man, this is not fun" I tiredly grumbled as I rested my back on a large rock. I was dirty, exhausted, thirsty, and utterly worn down. My arms were burning, my fingers were scratched and my forearms and thighs were chafed.
Looking at the sun right above my head, a sigh escaped me. At least the weather wasn't bad. The sun was shining, but the temperature wasn't unpleasant. Since where I lived was always hot, this meant one thing: I was very, very far away from home.
What was really interesting, however, wasn't the weather. It was the peace. Not one crazy cannibal around, I thought. My biggest concern for this trip turned out to be null. Had I gotten lucky or was there something bigger at play here?
"Well, not lucky enough, since I am lost."
Unfortunately, it turned out that I didn't remember yesterday’s path all that well (apparently, focusing on not being eaten had taken up most of my attention). Looking around for landmarks, a large tree some kilometers away stood out in the landscape. I'd been "slithering" around for hours already and felt quite close to my limits. It was time to abandon my tactical crawling in favor of some good old, reliable walking. Visibility was good, and I couldn't see anything in the distance that could be a threat, so it was probably okay.
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After crossing three-fourths of the way, however, a foul smell hit my nostrils, taking me by surprise. Immediately my alert senses went off. I looked around and lay on the ground, searching for threats. The wind carrying the stench hit me right in the face, meaning that the smell was coming from the tree in front of me. Approaching cautiously, I took a closer look.
There, at the foot of the tree, just by the roots, lay the carcass of a quadrupedal — or what was left of it. Walking right up to it, I tried to analyze the damage. It was completely torn open and twisted, with parts of the head and one of its legs missing. At least I know where I am now.
Besides, this was an interesting piece of information.
"Not all of their senses seem to be enhanced" I mused, while poking the corpse with a stick. They would've been here by this carcass otherwise. This smell... no chance a dog couldn't sniff this from far away.
That was something I'd contemplated yesterday too, before falling asleep. That time, near 02, I spotted them first even though one man was already facing my direction. Was their vision worse than mine perhaps?
It was not impossible. Maybe a trade-off of some kind? Vision for hearing?
One thing that remained a mystery was their intellect. Were they capable of thinking? They certainly behaved like animals, but there was not enough evidence to support a theory yet.
Standing up and brushing my hands off, I turned to look at the green sea around me. Honestly, the words "green sea" described my situation pretty well. Standing alone under the clear blue sky, with nothing but a vast, unfamiliar grassland surrounding you, had a way of making you feel... stranded.
I managed to spot the bushes I'd hidden in yesterday a few moments later. They were far off, perched atop a gentle rise in the landscape. Damn, that thing really had incredible hearing huh, I thought, half awed and half frightened.
After that, to my relief, the path started looking more familiar, and half an hour later I managed to catch sight of the manor in the distance. I didn't think I would be saying this so soon, but I was sincerely happy to see this place again. If you didn't mind the creepy evil dungeon underneath, this was actually a very pleasant house to live in! Very spacious, two floors...
It was afternoon, and I still hadn't encountered any of those zombies — yes, I'd started calling them zombies a while ago. Do they only come out at night?
Arriving at the door, I silently opened it, crossed the entrance and got to the living room. Nothing in the house seemed different, but I couldn't be completely sure yet.
Only after clearing the entire place did I feel safe enough to lower my guard and go search the kitchen for supplies.
I really hope there's something other than beer and wine here. Glancing around, I saw three barrels next to the ancient-looking stove. Kneeling right next to the first one and taking out my knife, I started praying.
With the blade, I began prying the thin metal hoop of the barrel off. The process was almost silent, save for the occasional soft clink and grunt of effort. Moments later, though, the lid popped open.
"Oh, thank God," I tiredly muttered. It was beautiful. The clear water rippled, light reflecting off its surface. I drank from the barrel directly, not bothering with a cup or anything else, enjoying how blissfully cool the water felt in my mouth.
Coughing and choking, I forced myself to pull away from the container, my chin dripping and shirt wet. I felt as if I'd been reborn.
Panting, I leaned back and closed my eyes. The sensation lingered on my tongue, but I controlled myself. Drinking excessively would make me too heavy and could make me sick.
Mind over matter, I reminded myself.
I decided to rest for an hour, drinking only in small amounts during this period. After I felt ready and rested enough, I got up and went to check on the food available. The cheese was similar to the one I'd eaten earlier, so I put it aside. The curious thing, however, was the variety of fruits. There were a bunch of them that I couldn't properly recognize. I bit into one that seemed the most familiar: a slightly orangish apple. It actually tasted just like a normal apple, so no problems here.
Moving on to the next basket, I found it full of grains and bread. Hard, I noted, tapping a loaf against the table. It could even double as a weapon.
I took a bite anyway. It had some acidity and tasted nothing like the bread I was used to eating. If I said it was good, I'd be lying. Considering the lack of appliances and the amount of flour in this kitchen, this must've been made here, by hand.
"Okay," I said, dusting off my hands, "I should look for a backpack and a canteen while I'm here". If I had to run away, or just go out again, I'd at least be prepared this time.