Proof of life

The upcoming days had been slow for Azrael and his friends, as the new routine began to settle in. The AZs went out to scavenge for the normal humans, while the regular humans tried their hands at agriculture with a few seeds they found in a gardening shop a while back. According to plan, these plants would supply them with sufficient food to last for as long as necessary, however medicine and bullets were still a big problem and the longer the colony lasted, the farther the scavengers had to go to find anything that hadn't been plundered yet.

On Gordon's suggestion, the scavenger group also raided a nearby library and brought back a lot of books written about things like milling, baking, gardening and other things like that, so the humans would have a better idea of what to actually do with the seeds.

Azrael quickly learned, just who was in this colony. Most of them was military personnel who had been smart or lucky enough to stay in the barracks when everything went to hell. Then there were the few survivors the scavengers brought back and also a few residents from the nearby town, who fled to the base when things started to go south. They were soldiers, bankers, managers, lawyers and the likes. Only a few men were workers from the big factory, which was also in town. When the epidemic hit the town, the factory was among the first being affected, since the workers dragged themselves to work despite having been sick, while most of the managers simply stayed at home.

At some point, when Azrael went around to make some acquaintances, he joked, "Great, we need to restart humanity with the worst humanity had to offer."
His joke wasn't received too well by most, but he at least got a few smiles from the working people he was around when he cracked it.

After a while, a young woman approached Azrael as he was working the field and asked, "Say...are you with the Anti-Zombies?"
Azrael hit the hoe into the ground one last time, looked up, wiped the sweat of his brow and replied, "Yup. My name's Azrael. Don't worry, I'm not poisoning the crops."
"Wha...I never...what gives you the idea I thought that?", the woman asked flustered.
Azrael pointed over to the appointed overseer over the field and said, "Let me put it that way, this guy over there has a bullet with my name on it, if I 'was to try something funny, even if I just spit on the field.'...either way, how can I help you?"
The woman looked at Azrael incredulously and finally said, "You know, I don't think you're getting the credit you should get. I mean, you're going out there, risking your lives so we have things like medicine and food and all that, you're defending us against the walking dead..."
"Everyone does whatever they do best. Your point?"
The woman sighed, "Okay, let me put it simple...I'd like to get to know your better. How does dinner sound to you?"
"Not interested, sorry.", Azrael replied, going back to his field work.
"W...why?! Look, I really..."
"Just for the record, so you don't get the wrong idea, but where I come from, when this line of action spirals down to intimacies, which I cannot give. For one I'm infected, for another I'm impotent. You're a fine woman, you should find yourself an actual man...a human and start a family with him. We still have way too little children."
"W...why is it, that all even you seem to think about is sex?!", the woman screeched.
Azrael dug the hoe back into the ground and looked up at the woman again, "Look, I don't know if you got the memo, but we don't even eat like you do. We eat the flesh of Zombies, like you eat bread. And if you think Zombies are gross while they're walking, try imagining to see them in pieces on the plate of the guy you're having dinner with."
"Look, I was just trying to be nice, but if you're going to be that way..."
Azrael sighed, "Yeah well, patronizing me isn't going to help anyone. If you really want to help, ask the overseer for a job, I'm sure he'll find something you can help with."
"...fine, be that way.", the woman scoffed and walked off briskly.

Just as she was out of sight, another man from the fields talked to Azrael, "What is it with you and the chicks? This was the third one you told off this week. Are you gay?"
"No, I'm not gay...but I'm infected. Even so much as a kiss might get us more Zombies to deal with and less people to breed with."
"...'breed'? Man, you make us sound like cattle."
"Yeah well, sorry, but the council has been pretty clear on that...our...or much rather your top-priority is to get enough food for you to last and to breed like the rabbits, so our species as a whole gets to sur...wait, do you hear that?"
Azrael raised head, trying hard to catch the noise again he had just heard in the distance.
"You mean aside from the shuffling beyond the fences?"
"No, nothing the likes...it sounded almost like...", Azrael said, looking up to the sky and what he saw made his breath stop for a moment, before he yelled, "A plane! There's a plane overhead!"

The eyes of everyone around him shot towards the sky and everyone simply stared at the plane that was passing over them in the distance.

Azrael dashed over to the overseer, who was also staring at the plane in awe.
As Azrael passed him, he yelled, "I need to tell John, sorry about work!"

A few minutes later, Azrael barged into the makeshift warroom, where the council consisting of representatives from the different social circles gathered in the colony was discussing the course the colony should take and shouted, "There's a plane overhead!"
Most of the councilmen just looked at Azrael as if he had gone crazy, before someone asked, "So?"
John replied, "Gentleman, please allow me to pause this meeting. I'll be back shortly."
He then hurried outside the room with Azrael with swift steps but without running and as they reached the outside, Azrael pointed at the plane slowly vanishing in the distance.

John scratched his head and asked, "What's the meaning of this?"
"Well, I don't know what you're thinking, but the last thing I knew was, that Zombies cannot operate plane controls and that planes don't fly by themselves."
"...let's try contacting them.", John said and together they ran over to the radio room, where an ancient radio was sitting with a hand generator attached to it.
John shouted, "You turn, I dial!"

A few minutes later, John had found the right frequency and received a reply from the plane, "This is flight AT-452. We're reading you loud and clear. Is there a problem?"
Azrael, who was still turning the handle like crazy, shouted, "Yeah, why aren't you dead?!", but John merely shook his head and asked, "What's your status?"
"Instruments are all green, flight is proceeding as planned."
"What's your destination?"
"We're headed towards Amsterdam...hold on, my copilot wants to ask something."
There was static for a short while before another voice asked, "Hey, I've got relatives somewhere down there, but can't reach them for weeks now. The government won't tell us a thing and..."
There was a light shuffle over the microphone before the first one replied, "Never mind."
After that, the line went silent again and Azrael stopped turning the handle.

A few seconds later, John said, "That was a civil flight to Amsterdam...they...they contained it. The rest of the world...is safe."
"That's great, but...why haven't they come to save us yet?"
John sunk his head and said, "Standard procedure in cases of epidemics is to quarantine the affected area if possible, treat it if possible...or wait it out if not."
"...wait, so they're just leaving us here to rot?!", Azrael asked aggravated.
"Azzy, be reasonable. Imagine if just a single infected managed to get past the perimeter! You've seen how bad it's here, they can't possibly risk..."
"Well, they could at least send in relief supplies like medicine, bullets or food!"
John's mouth opened and then closed again, as he realized that Azrael was right.

He tried arguing, "Maybe they just didn't know we were here until now."
"Well, now they do know...and tell you what, I'm going to find out just how far away this 'perimeter' is and make them help us."
"Wait, you want to..."
"No, I will. John, the people need you and the others here to protect them. I've survived out there by myself the longest from all of us, there simply is no better alternative."
John and Azrael argued about the topic for a little while longer. John didn't want Azrael to go all by himself, called it a suicide mission, but Azrael's argument was sound.

It was apparent that the governments around them didn't want the world to know about the Zombie outbreak and even if the pilots said that there's survivors, the government would silence them. Someone they couldn't silence easily had to go and tell the world about it.
Someone had to go and get help.

Azrael finished the argument with the sentence, "John...who's going to help us if not us?"
John let out a long sigh and said, "Alright...I'll bring it up on the next council meeting. Please don't do anything rash until then, okay?"
Azrael nodded, however his mind had long been made up. He couldn't wait for the council to give their okay. He would prepare and then disappear the same night.

After they parted, he directly went back to his place and began packing, when a familiar female voice said from behind him, "What are you doing?"
Azrael didn't even turn around and asked, "What are you doing here?"
"I came to ask you to reconsider, actually...and to help you with your problem."
Azrael put some more clothes and other essentials into his bag, before turning around and looking at the young woman standing before him.
After a second he said, "May I please ask you to leave?"
"You may, but I won't. Not until you've given me an honest answer...what's wrong with me?"
Azrael groaned, "Nothing's wrong with you, really. Listen, this is a dangerous place to be in, may I please ask you to leave now?"
"Master won't be pleased, if you leave.", the woman suddenly said, the light vanishing from her eyes.
As she collapsed to the floor a male voice droned in Azrael's head, "No, I won't be pleased. I went to all this trouble to get you some and you turn her away?"
"Who...who are you?! Get out...out of my head!", Azrael groaned, holding his head.
"Know this, Azrael...the sole reason why the people in this colony still live is, because I want them to. You will obey me!"
"S...screw you...", Azrael groaned, hitting his head against the wall until it started bleeding.
"Tch...foolish pride. I expected better from you.", the voice said and then disappeared, leaving Azrael behind panting heavily.
He looked at the collapsed form and with growing horror realized that it was the corpse of a LI lying on the floor before him.
Azrael took his sword, severed the head off just to be safe and then cleaned up the mess before the others came back from work, mumbling, "Yay, another reason for me to be gone."