Tee moved through the broken city with a skip in her step, or the closest thing her crumbling form could manage, a lively limp.
She no longer smelled anything, she couldn't even remember whether a nose still sat in the middle of her face, yet the air felt different today as it slid across the ruin of her flesh. The hunger that usually clawed behind her eyes had shrunk down to a dull pulse, pushed deep into the recesses of her mind as if patiently waiting for a turn to speak. In its place, new thoughts tried to spark to life. They were fragile, flickering things, but without the ravenous hunger to plague her, she had room in her dusty skull for something of her own.
Normally she was harassed by the endless chatter of the roaming damned. Today the chattering was silent. She had done something, back there with the living man, that sent a ripple through the collective mind As her brothers and sisters instincts kicked in, their desire for food was replaced with these thoughts.
Elite. Danger. Flee.
Tee didn't understand the message, likely didn't even realize it was being broadcast. All she knew was that the area was safe, the living one was, well, still alive, and she had a new purpose. She also had a class and a level, but that part confused her, so she put that out of her mind.
She pressed a cracked palm to the place where her heart had once beaten and managed to smile, on the inside at least.
Then the new voice spoke inside her head like before.
[Stability improving. Maintain task focus.]
[Objective: Acquire supplies for the living subject.]
A low growl rumbled out of her ruined throat. She slowly creaked her head left, then right, milky eyes scanning the dust and debris for the source of the words. Nothing moved but litter in the wind.
[No threats detected. Resume task.]
The voice was not like the others. It was calm and offered a certain feeling of comfort to her. This was confusing for obvious reasons, but with the alternative being a starved madness, she was happy to obey. One dragging foot after the other, she set off to find human things.
As Tee let her thoughts wander, her body shifted to auto-pilot and in what felt like the blink of an eye, for those who had eyelids, she found herself standing somewhere new. A crooked metal sign teetered overhead, letters bleached by the sun. Dull colors spread out before her as she observed the first of the human things, these would serve as a prelude to the main prize.
She stumbled through the gaping doorway of the ruined grocery store, her footsteps disturbing ancient dust that rested for untold ages. Tee knew what she had to search for, she just needed to see it to reignite the memory. They were round, sometimes shiny, hard… She'd seen them all her life, but what did they look like?!
Then she saw them. Cans! The human embodiment for food itself! She snatched two into her stiff hands, cradling them like fragile eggs. A third rolled away and she chased it on her knees, brushing away dust with her fatigues until faded peaches and green beans smiled back at her from the labels. She tried for a fourth can and discovered the eternal betrayal of only having two hands. A low, confused growl leaked from her throat.
Then her dragging foot kicked something that rattled across the tile, causing her to jerk toward the noise. She vaguely understood what it was, the kind of thing humans once pushed in neat little rows. One wheel still spun lazily, as if hinting to its function. She dropped her cans inside with a triumphant clatter, seized the red plastic handle, and returned her prize to its wheels.
[Excellent. Shopping cart acquired.]
Soft, squishy things that were shaped like food. A neon-yellow kitchen sponge sat on a mound of crumbled cereal boxes. She squeezed it and it reminded her of the protein bars she lived on for so much of her short adulthood.
A birthday-candle box had crumbled years ago, scattering rainbow sticks like confetti. She picked one up, bit down, chewed wax, tilted her head in solemn approval, and swept the entire colorful mess into the basket.
Clear liquid things that sloshed and felt right in her hands. Four plastic bottles lay half-buried under a fallen display. She shook the first and watched as the water danced inside. The next three followed without question. A fifth bottle rolled out on its own. It was clear, viscous, smelling of artificial pine. She never remembered this particular beverage, though familiar as it was… but liquid was liquid and liquid kept humans alive, so in it went.
A crinkling packet of powdered sports drink caught her eye next. The packet showed a smiling athlete mid-jump. Bright colors were always good. She tore it open with her teeth and poured neon-orange dust straight into the basket, nodding sagely as it passed through the cart and scattered onto the floor.
She stumbled upon the next thing by accident, brushing against a shelf and pausing as the pleasant sensation touched the torn soles of one exposed foot. An entire bolt of thick quilted blanket had unrolled across the aisle as though someone had rolled out the red carpet for her. She yanked it free, pulled it over her head, and stood swaying in sudden, blissful darkness. For a long moment she simply existed inside the soft weight, almost happy. Then practicality overcame that one sweet moment. She dragged it off and let it drape across her shoulders instead. It trailed behind her like a tattered cape, snagging on every jagged shelf and exposed bone, but leaving her feeling like a Queen. A dead Queen. Queen Tee.
All these human things began to stir echoes of memories within her and made the chest hurt in a good way.
A ceramic mug lay on its side with the words "World's Best Dad" in chipped red letters. She knew someone who had this human thing and it made them very happy. Maybe it would make the living person happy?
A cracked snow globe with a plastic Santa inside. When she shook it, tiny white flecks swirled like the snow as it spilled droplets of fluid from its damaged shell. She cradled it against her chest.
One-one-thousand.
Two-one-thousand.
Three-one-thousand.
Then nestled it gently beside the mug.
Meat-adjacent things would need to be next. Living people didn't eat living people, they ate other things. No, she changed her mind. Tee had seen them eating each other before. She wouldn't let him do that though.
A torn fifty-pound bag of dog kibble was in shreds, spilling its content all over the floor. She pinched a piece, sniffed, decided meat was meat, and shoveled handfuls of it into the cart. Some clattered through the wire mesh, others fell into the mug, and a few found unique homes of their own.
Her foot met a dented tin of Vienna sausages and sent it bouncing off a nearby shelf. She reached over and picked it up, admiring the little cartoon pigs that grinned at her. She grinned back, her lips cracking and tearing slightly with the gesture. She had seen pigs some time ago, with the last humans she ran into. Definitely meat.
A vacuum-sealed pack of beef jerky so old the plastic had turned cloudy and the meat inside coated in long dead mold. She pressed it to her face, inhaled the ghost of salt, smoke, and penicillin, and added it reverently.
Mysterious cans and bottles that could be food or medicine or magic.
A bottle of children's bubble-gum-pink cough syrup, half evaporated but still sticky-sweet on the air. Medicine kept humans breathing, and she wanted that for him very much.
The basket was brimming with contents that were constantly clanking, rustling, or sloshing. Things kept trying to escape over the rim, but try as they might, any escapees were returned no matter how many times she had to reach down and pick them back up. Tee decided this was enough and that she should check in on the living person once more.
From somewhere deeper in the store came a single, curious moan. Something had made its way into the store while she was enraptured by all of the wonders she had collected. It saw her, took one shambling step forward, then froze. The invisible warning rippled out again, and the shambling intruder's mind blared in warning.
Elite. Danger. Flee.
The lesser creature whimpered and retreated into the shadows.
Tee paid it no mind. Her cape dragged across the tile, her cart sang its chaotic song, and she limped back toward the light.
Until something caught her eye.
On her way out, she paused beside a shattered window and caught her reflection in a dusty fragment of glass. A woman stared back, a familiar but frighteningly disturbing visage. With her mind clear for the first time in… forever? Something inside her contracted, a tiny spasm of instinctive distress.
[Do not analyze appearance. Cognitive drift detected. Stabilizing…]
Just as quickly as it had appeared, the discomfort dissolved and her focus returned. She turned away from the glass and surveyed the quietly empty street. For the briefest of moments she could hear the rumbling of engines, the whispers of people, the memory of civilization. The image slipped away too quickly for her to hold onto, but a faint imprint lingered. She tightened her grip on the cart as if to hold onto the memory itself.
He needed these things, the living person. Helping him was the only thing that mattered, even more than these memories. She knew what she was doing was right, and she would bring the things back to him, she would help him live and wake up and do the things living people do. A tiny fragment of something like pride flickered in her chest and pushed her onward.
To the living person!