Love you Sam

Sam Yao from Zombies Run!

thewondersmith:

minazummers:

“When we came to make Zombies, Run!, I deliberately put a line in the very first mission, when you, Runner Five, are just arriving at Abel Township, the tiny, shivering remnant of humanity left after the zombie apocalypse. I had one of the characters say: “If you can move above a slow shamble, we can use you.” Why? Because I am so sick and tired of the best and nicest exercise-based treats being reserved for people who are already in peak physical shape, and I’m sick of the notion that having fun while exercising is something you have to earn; that, until you look a certain way, moving ought to be boring and unpleasant if not outright painful. Your body is there right now. You did not have to earn a thing. It is a gift. You are a hero every time you step out of your front door to do some exercise.”

—There’s No Morality in Exercise: I’m a Fat Person Who Made a Successful Fitness App — Matter — Medium(viabrutereason)

idk if this was already mentioned, but for those interested, Zombies, Run! is written by Naomi Alderman (of Disobedience and The Power)!

Sam! Sweetie! Love of my life! On my next supply run I’m getting you a hug and a bunch of chocolate and a “World’s Best Operator” mug!

Safe

—————

[SPOILERS FOR ZR S8M27]

—————

It’s when I run past the altars that it really hits me.

There is no exit ahead.

It had seemed like just another run. Tom was dead, a madwoman was in my ear, mindless drones were after me… The usual routine.

But I was deep underground with a dying flashlight, lost in a twisting, turning maze. The exit was behind me, and as I passed the altar I realized I wasn’t going back.

Run.

Keep running.

All I could hope was that I could run far enough, just keep running, until my headset picked up someone’s signal, and they would know how to help me.

Keep. Running.

Keep running until I find that voice in the dark.

Shona’s in my ear, raving, reminding me that I can’t turn around, I can only run deeper. She tells me she killed, she schemed, she did it all, and I can barely take it in, because I need to keep running and I’m too afraid to hear.

Until she says she’s sending water in to flood me.

Oh, I hear that.

Run. I have to keep running, until someone finds my signal. Sam will find my signal!

Until then, it’s the madwoman. That’s familiar, at least. I almost hope Moonchild will step in, but the thought is a wordless quiver deep inside. I have to run. Have to keep running.

“Runner Five, hello. Can you hear me?”

Sam!

It’s not Sam, but the association is overwhelming. A voice, Sam, safety, and for a moment I know I’m going to live!

Then my flashlight goes out.

“There goes your torch, Five. Our eyes are used to this gloom. Yours aren’t.” Shona. Their red god must give them some other kind of sight, because this isn’t gloom. This is deep in a cave, and there is no light at all. “And the water is rising.”

I’d been trying to ignore it. The water. The water, water, water- I’m slogging through rising water, tugging on my calves, deeper and deeper in an impossible cave, feeling my way with hands on either side of the narrow walls. My gait is a mockery of running, blind and waterlogged, but I have to keep running, running, running until I find Sam!

Not-Sam on my radio, a reminder that there’s somewhere else that isn’t here. The Laird, he says. I don’t care who he is. He’s a voice to help me. “Five, if you’re hearing me, please follow the signal. Run in whatever direction my voice sounds strongest. I’ve called help. I can get you out, but you need to follow my voice. Run.”

Run.

Run. I’m going to keep running.

“We see you feeling your way along the cave walls, Five. Just give up. The water’s already thigh-deep.”

Deep.

It triggers a line of clear thought, amid the terror. People who haven’t been in floods always misunderstand them. It’s not about the depth. It’s about the current. The power. The way it knocks you off your feet and drags you, shoves you where it wants you to go. My flood was barely knee deep when it swept me away. This terror is personal, and deeper than the water, and older than the zombies.

Run. Slog. I have to get out. I have to get out to Sam. I’m shaking. I’m blind. I’m running.

Not-Sam is back in my ear, staticy. He heard his daughter kill Tom. “Shona’s not a killer, Five! Look, those people drugged her, or-or tricked her, or… or something. I’m at the cave exit near where Tom died. If you hear me, home in on my voice. The louder my signal, the closer you are. And if you hit a dead end, double back. I hear flooding on your end. Hurry!”

Hurry. Hurry.

Shona realizes I have help. Maybe following the signal somehow did get me on a right course. I’m coming out of the water at least. Run. Run.

Shona, the madwoman, sets her minions after me, for the final pursuit. The water isn’t pulling on my legs. There’s faint, diffused, barely existent light. I can see, and move, and things are chasing me. I don’t slog. I run. Run!

“Look ahead, Five. That daylight at the end of the tunnel? That’s where I am. The mouth of the cave. Keep going. You’re clear of the flooding. I’m sorry about Tom, Five. He seemed like a good man.”

Daylight. Sam!

I know Sam’s not up there. I don’t want Sam to be up there, because there are monsters chasing me, and it is about to be very not safe up there.

My brain shouts the word simply because I have long ago stopped being able to tell the difference between ‘Sam’ and ‘safe’.

We won’t talk about it. We don’t really talk much one-on-one, outside of missions. You don’t talk to coping devices. Sam keeps me safe.

I have to get out of this cave. I have to get out to Sam.

“My people are right behind you, Five. I see you through their eyes.”

I run. I can’t keep this pace. My body is screaming at me. I keep running.

“Hurry, Five! There are skincoats following you!”

Run. Daylight. Sam. Not there, but somewhere, out there, in the world that isn’t this cave. Run!

I break out into daylight, with a senseless crash of relief. But I keep running, bolting, not stopping to looked at the Laird, as he joins me racing for the trees, as Shona mocks us, reminds us that her minions aren’t vampires, and can chase us just as well out here. I run. We run.

‘We’ is better.

We run, hard.

We run until gunshots. Until Paula. Until Janine, screaming her grief before she locks it back up. I slow to a jog, panting. I feel like the shaking might stop.

Paula says they found Tom. Jody’s with him. Sam is with her.

Sam. Yes, the shaking is stopping. Somewhere, out here, safety still exists.

The Laird tried to say something about his daughter. Janine says something about not letting Tom’s death be in vain.

I keep up my slow jog, pulling away. My shoes are soaked with flooding seawater. The darkness of the cave is still in my eyes. The mad voice of the red god is still in my ears.

I jog. A slow run. I’m not quite ready to stop yet.