I became numb as soon as I saw Dimple. It was him, alright. I would not ever forget his new and old wounds, his scared body and-and—

Dimple was running with the screamers, not being chased, but as a part of the collective whole. He was answering the call. I struggled out of Kalki’s hold and stood on the seat. I tried to find him in the wave, but I was too late. The last of the screamers were disappearing behind the corner pole, leaving us alone... for the time being.

Kalki opened the side door and called to me, come on, boy. Let’s go. We have a score to settle with some of them.
The shutters were also opening behind us. Kalki stepped out of the vehicle. I heard hurried footsteps rushing toward us from the building, but I was too in shock to care about everything happening around me.

Dimple had turned into a screamer; I could not believe it.

I’m sorry. Karishma gave out a muffled scream. I couldn’t help you. I tried. I —He-he had a gun, and-and—

It’s alright. Kalki replied in a low tone of voice. She was angry —not at Karishma, but at the fat sweaty bastard who had barred us the safety of the building, even though she had saved his son.
You tried. She whispered. 

Come, boy. She called me again and I followed. I climbed out of the door behind her, but I didn’t go to her. I didn’t even look at her. Instead, I made a strict turnaround and ran after the horde. Kalki screamed and was muffled as I made it to the corner up ahead. I didn’t have a plan, but I had to make sure, to see for myself. Maybe Dimple was only influenced by the roarer’s call like I was. Maybe he wasn’t dead.

For that reason, I sprinted after the horde.

It seemed like the pile of bodies that had made me turn back around had stumped them too because I could see the horde’s tail up ahead.

Plenty of fresh blood had been spilled on the road. The flesh had been mashed into paste and bones ground to dust. The resulting gore caked the road like a layer of cream used to put intricate designs on a cake. Yes, I know about cakes.

The stuff was at least a head deep. My steps squelched as I made my way through. It was a demoralizing sight.

Black clouds rumbled above my head. Once again, I felt like I was trapped in the crack of space between the two houses. My head swayed from the stench and the alien sight. 

The concentrated sweet scent rising from the horde was the only thing that kept me moving. It was mind-numbing.
I somehow made it past the moving sea of mashed bodies, but ahead there were screamers on the road. They had their limbs torn apart or crushed, but they were alive. They pensively lay around in a daze or sat or squirmed behind the horde, but grew aggressive toward me as I passed through them.

I feared their retaliation, but they were too far gone to be able to hurt or stop me. All they could do was to add to the madness by screaming and bellowing. And there were those that were fine, but in hiding and waiting for some like me, someone escaping. I became aware of their presence when they attacked. These were those few screamers that had managed to resist the call, either under influence or simply by their own strength that they had gathered by hunting humans or screamers.  

They attacked me.
 
They came from inside the open gates, or from inside the shadows. One by one, there were some half a dozen of them, maybe more. I didn’t stop to count. I ignored and continued forward, running. They followed me until I charged into the middle of the horde and they refrained from following me further, as if afraid.

My eyes sifted through the countless two-leggers in search of Dimple. It helped that I was utterly ignored by the dazed screamers, but there were far too many of them and all too closely packed for me to even move through them. They were frantic, and I knew they wouldn’t stop to consider my safety if I fell.

However, I didn’t lose hope, and then I saw him. He was running behind the horses and barking at the humans. It was him. I would have recognized him even if there were a thousand others like him. However, he had more wounds than before, dealt by nails on his back and head. His neck was bent forward, spine cracked. He hadn’t succumbed to his injures but had been mauled to death. 

He hadn’t died to the infection.

However, he still retained a stream of the old scent that belonged to him. For some reason, he slowed and looked back. My heart thrummed as our eyes meet. There was a scowl on his face, no attachment in his eyes. He was gone; the one I admired and was scared of was gone. A husk of his former shadow had taken his place. He also had that sweet scent know of the screamers to him.

I could not bear to look at his face. He more than noticed me. He acknowledged my existence amidst the hundreds of other screamers, but that’s it. He scowled at me, then turned around and followed behind the other screamers, most of whom had no idea of their surroundings.

Resisting the call was a tug of war between the mind and the voice. Dimple had always been the stubborn, angry type. He would have never bent his head to anyone if he was alive. The Dimple I knew was truly gone.

My legs stopped moving; I stopped chasing. Dimple closely followed the horses. The shop where we had burned the roarer wasn’t near, but it wasn’t far away either. Soon he was going to disappear from my sight. I still didn’t know where the rest were. If Rusty was still safe or had ginger finally birthed the puppies? Would I ever be able to meet them?

COME TO ME!

The wave of hunger and pain tugged at my mind again. It had no lasting effect on me, but the screamers grew frantic. I dodged them as they kicked around me.

The roarer was the one calling them, and it was going to eat them all and recover. He would eat Dimple. The thought didn’t sit well with me, but there was nothing I could do. I was better off leaving to find Rusty and Ginger.

I was just about to turn around when I remembered something, a small detail I had forgotten. Dimple must have been with Rusty and Gingers until he died. He had to be. There was no way he could have separated from them before that. He was bound to know where they were. He was dead, I know, but he could be of much help if I ate the gem shard in his head.  

In hope, I chased him.

My heart trembled as I passed between the naked, blood-covered legs of the screamers, and got hold of him just as he was turning the corner toward the narrow alley. I wanted to jump, but I had to wait until we were in the clear to make my move. He like the others was aiming to pass through the narrow alley, which as its name described was quite narrow. It was no coincidence that there was a jam of screamers, pushing, climbing, and screaming in the empty plot of land in front of it.
A pile was starting to at the bottom of the buildings around the alley. The screamers were trying to climb over each other to get to the other side.

I pushed Dimple to get him out of the mass of moving bodies. I collided with him, jumped at him, while he kept his head straight and mouth open and screaming. Finally, somehow I got him out of the relentless stream and jumped at him as he tried to make it for the narrow alley. My nails dug into his back, but I couldn’t bring him down. My body shook from the act that I had committed, but I could not hesitate.

In a daze he kept moving, walking, pulling me behind him because I refused to let him go. I would have lost him forever if he had made it to the narrow alley. However, my nails had grown too sharp and they tore through him.

The call was a consistent hum. The screamers had no choice other than to follow. Dimple was the same. He was getting away. I let out a bark and got up on my feet, dodged a screamer heading toward me, and Lunged at him.

This time, I grabbed him from his left leg and managed to drag him away from the horde.
There was a pop and Dimple’s leg dangled from the waist. My hair stood up in fright and I let go. I imagined the pain it would have caused him, but in reality, he felt no pain, didn’t howl in anger or looked at me. He stumbled forward on the broken leg, answering the call with fervor. I hugged him from behind to stop him and dug my nails into the side of his chest. He dragged me forward.

He was not alone in this madness. Everyone else was also the same. He was tenacious, very much like when he was alive. But I tightened my grip around his chest and pulled him to the ground. I climbed over his back and bit under his neck as he screamed. I was hoping he’d stop; he didn’t. So I broke his neck. There was a pop and he finally stopped moving. I thought I would be sad, but I didn’t feel a thing. I was tired, exhausted, vented, but my heart didn’t throb; there was no guilt very the act I had committed. I had killed my friend —the thought alone would have broken me until a few days ago, but right then and there I only felt emptiness.

So, after finding my breaths I got up, bit into Dimple’s rear leg, and started pulling him away from the mess. The screamers scared me. I feared being attacked by the horde, but they paid me no attention. Then suddenly, a buffalo with horns larger than my torso pushed into the horde from the back. It was sending everyone in its way flying. Coincidently, it came directly toward us and I could not pull Dimple’s body out of its path in time.

I barely jumped out of its way to save my neck as it passed over him, crushing his legs and chest, and smashing his head open. Dimple died right there for the second time.

However, that was not the end, but the start of another battle.

***

The scent that spread from his cracked open skull instantly gathered the attention of the screamers around. I could not let them have the shard inside. It was my way to Rusty and Ginger. I needed to eat it to see Dimple’s last memories. For the first time, the sweet scent of the shard nauseated me. However, it had to be done. There as just no other way.

Apparently, the screamers wanted the same. Not all were interested, but I was one and they were many.

I charged at the one that had stumbled and taken a seat beside Dimple’s head. I didn’t hold back and kicked him in the back with all of my strength. The screamer stumbled forward into a roll, disappearing midst the others. That was the first of many.  Another jumped at the same time from behind me. I bit into his thigh and pulled back. He fell, his fingers barely grazing over Dimple’s flesh and coming away bloody. I jumped over the man’s back, but a female kicked me in the ribs and knocked the wind out of my chest. She wasted no time and jumped at Dimple’s chest, breaking the few ribs left, and started punching his cracked skull. The scent instantly grew stronger.

The one I had bitten pushed her away and stabbed his clawed fingers into Dimple’s skull. He pulled out the whole brain and tried to eat, but the girl bit his arm in uncontrolled rage. The brain fell out of his hand and I managed to scoop it off the ground.

The female let him go and punched me in the face. The man jumped at me, and the others followed. A pile formed. Not a moment later, I crawled out of the pile, my mouth dripping Dimples brain juices. I ate him; now he was a part of me.  The call attracted me, but the warmth that flowed down my throat pulled me back from its charm. From my stomach, it traveled to my heart, while a small trickle of the flow reached my brain. My eyes grew glossy as I saw Dimple’s last moments.

I came awoke a moment later, echoing Dimple’s howl. My hair stood from end to end in fright, and my heart refused to calm down. 

Suddenly the madness repulsed me. I turned on my heels and rushed away from there. I knew where I had to go. Rusty and Ginger had been so close all along. I didn’t backtrack my steps, instead of cut straight through the park where Cob’s grave was. I climbed the road on the other side of the park and ran for the Bread factory.

It was so stupid and frustrating. The road was clear. There were obviously no screamers around since all had joined the horde.

The factory was just up ahead. The factory smelled of baked bread and it ignited my hunger. I left the road leading straight out of the community and turned left. I had been so close to them. I could have saved Dimple.

The factory and the shopping complex were on the same road. I could see the hu-mans prepping the white beast at the far end of it. They had been right in front of my eyes all this time, and I couldn’t see. I felt… morbid.

A cold wind blew at me from the front, as if trying to stop me. The clouds rumbled in the sky and lightning crackled, the world turned purple for a second. The night was away, but the world had already gotten dark. A storm was coming.

The memory I saw was from last night. I had never been so close to the factory; it was Bread’s territory and he didn’t like others' presence on his premise. That was where he was born and spent most of his life.

My blood turned cold when I reached the large blue gate. It was closed, but there was enough space underneath it for them to crawl inside. Dimple had died right there, protecting Rusty and ginger from the screamers, as they had launched themselves at the two.

The pool of his blood reminded me of the site where Cob had dried. The grey slope was marred in red, and it hadn’t even dried yet.

A bird on the wall chirped at me, but I was too in loss to indulge it. It flew away.

A bloody hand had left prints on the giant gate. The screamers had tried to follow Rusty and Ginger inside, but the narrow space had stopped them. Only one had managed to follow them inside, as indicated by the bloody footprints.

My legs shook. Inside, there were giant wheeled monsters slumbering to be awakened by hu-man. I could not fathom them for the life of me. For some reason, only hu-mans could wake them. Believe me, I had tried and been laughed at by my pack, the squirrels, and even the birds.

There were no homes here, only buildings with shutters similar to that one shop. And they were open. The bloody footprints were fainter there than outside. I followed them up the ramp and inside the shuttered rectangular buildings. The shed was high up and the roof even higher. I didn’t belong there, and I was powerless. I couldn’t even see it without raising my head.

Inside there were hundreds of crates stacked against the walls. All were empty, however.

The footprint led straight, toward an opening on the other side of the room.

The place was too silent, too desolate; my footsteps echoed in the emptiness. So when a pigeon flew behind the translucent plastic cover hanging from the ceiling, the flutter of its wings echoed inside the factory loud and clear. It was gone by the time I made my way to the other side.

There, the smell of bread lingered everywhere. It was a large place and continued almost endlessly to my left and right. Empty bread packets covered the floor and created noise when I stepped over them. There was no path straight, as a contraption of some kind, a wall of green that was tall as I blocked my path. There were some bread packets lying on it. I smelled and pulled them to the ground, slashed them open, and had a dry tasteless meal.

 I opened a few more packets and ate until I started feeling the buildup of warmth. I didn’t overburden myself by overfeeding. There was a high chance that I would need to fight. So after going through five large packets —I couldn’t control the hunger— I walked left over the belt until I saw a tall l piece of machinery I could climb and check out the place.

It was a long space, kind of like a hisser. Stay away from it. That was the only advice that Rusty had for me the night we found one slithering down the park grass. Of course, we watched it disappear into the thicket and then didn’t go to the park for the next few days.

The exit wasn’t difficult to find. It was surprisingly nearby, n the other side of the metallic, cold fixtures to be exact.

There was just one massive, screaming problem: a screamer, silent as a corpse was banging its head against the wall, right next to the exit. I didn’t have much choice there. I had to change. I had to attack it. It would have raised an alarm had I tried to distract it, and from what I could see there were no other exits.

The screamer was a man, obese, and wore a mud-colored dead skin that was patched in red at the legs.
I decided and quietly jumped down from atop the flat green metallic machine. I quietly walked through the empty space between the two elevated surfaces with the bread packets and dashed at it after jumping to the other side. I didn’t change, didn’t bark, did nothing to get its attention, but it noticed me still.

Of course, I had forgotten about the scent. Out of all the things it was one I could not hide. I had forgotten that it was virtually impossible for either of us to sneak up on the other. Pretty foolish, however, I had the momentum. I could change and take the fight to the ground. I did exactly that. I changed mid-stride, while it was still turning. 

I grew fangs, no more protruded backs, and also heavier and larger. I jumped at its back when I stopped changing and bashed the screamer into the wall. It screamed, which echoed, and invited other screamers. That was the signal for me to finish my work quickly.

I was hoping for the collision to put it in a daze, but it bounced back at me without any effect. We both fell; while I was confused, it had my scent and managed to hold my ear, which it then pulled to one side. No matter how depleted the screamers might look, one thing was always true about them, they were stronger than humans.

A scream rose from my throat as it tore my ear off my head and ate it. The wound closed before it could bleed, but the pain was enormous and I was starting to grow angrier. I heard the voice as the process started and it was definitely stronger than the last time I had heard it.

I struggled away from it and got my feet under my body. We both stood up at approximately the same time.

I was eying the exit when it jumped at me. Somehow I managed to slip through its fingers. Well, there was not much to do after that. I rushed toward the exit as it fell on the apparatus behind me and bounced over to the other side of it.

Out of the exit was… open sky. I didn’t fear being chased since I knew it would never catch me with all the fat slowing it down. However, there were definitely more screamers around and they were active. I didn’t fear them, but I feared my actions would cause problems for Rusty and Ginger.

I hadn’t gone far when my fears came true. I heard a deep ringing bark, followed by an endless angry scream. My blood turned cold upon hearing it —that was Rusty. There was no doubt. Only he had that deep, penetrating voice.