Chapter 48 Cue and the Cretin pt 2

Chapter 48 Cue and the Cretin pt 2
His voice was deep, an abyss of echoing waves in a deep, dark corridor. It was gravelly, as if not often used, and he had to clear his throat before and after speaking.
“Do you know the way out?” Trigger cried, running after him as best she could with her stomach so big and her hips constantly aching. They passed a stack of oxygen tanks, and Trigger looked back at them meaningfully.
“I know the way,” he said, more articulate than she had expected after the animalistic way he’d acted since the first time she saw him.
“Good,” she said, grabbing a nearby bottle of rubbing alcohol and a rag. With a flick of a match against her thumb, she ignited a rag she stuffed in the bottle and threw it at the oxygen tanks. “Run faster!” She screamed.
But he didn’t run faster; he turned around and grabbed her, putting her in front of him while they ran. When the explosion rang out, his back took the brunt, but he showed no signs of pain other than a quiet grunt.
Before long, the whole basement was engulfed in flame behind them. Putting any other poor, miserable experiments out of their despair and misery. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear the doctor screaming, and she hoped beyond hope that the fire would claim whatever was left of his burned and mutilated body.
For the first time, she cared about the pain she would cause the zombies and cretins, but they would be better off dead than alive and victim to that man and his family for centuries. She spared a small prayer begging forgiveness to anyone who would listen. 
For this, but mostly for stabbing Cue.
If she ever saw Hunter again, he’d have to change his name to Prey.
“Is she alright?” Trigger asked. She was in shape for the most part, but the baby made running difficult, and she was breathing heavily.
“She will live,” he said, “If I can get her home.”
“You have a home?” Trigger asked, shocked.
He turned and gave her a withering look, “Just because I can control Zombies doesn’t mean I live like one.”
“Up until a few days ago, I didn’t even know Cretins had intelligence.”
He shouldered out a door and then turned to glare at Trigger, his upper lip curling in a snarl. “We’ve always just been people, just like you.”
“Except immortal?”
“Not even that, we just live longer and age more slowly. We still go grey and wrinkled, and eventually we die from old age.” He kept running, dashing between tree trunks and ferns, leaping over fallen logs, and he ran through the reclaimed city as if he knew every inch of it by heart.
Trigger fought to keep up, her mind racing. Cretins were intelligent. The hospital was a trap. Gunner didn’t know where they were and wouldn’t be able to know unless by some sort of miracle. Cue had a stab wound in her chest that Trigger herself gave her, and now this Cretin is telling them the only way to save her is by letting the very thing they’ve been running from take them prisoner.
The dark-skinned man ducked and weaved, vaulting over an unsuspecting two-headed white-tailed buck before it even registered what happened. Now and then, he would stop and wait for Trigger to catch up, a disdainful look on his face.
When they came upon what looked like a bird's nest coming out of the ground, he slowed.
If Trigger knew better, she would think this was the nest of a mutated eagle, but as the man stepped inside, she realized it was just a disguise for an entrance underground. Without qualms, she followed the Cretin down into the dark hole. There was no way they would separate her from her lover.
When they got to the bottom, she saw a dimly lit but clean corridor. For a second, she thought they were alone, but just out of the reach of the lights were his minions, all standing there slack-jawed, waiting for their instructions.
The Cretin set Cue on a cushioned platform at the back of the sewer tunnel and then took her hand in his, staring down at her reverently.
Trigger gripped the skirt of her dress until her knuckles went white. “What do you want with her?” she demanded. “She is mine.”
“She’s been mine much longer than you've known her.” He snarled.
“The difference is, she loves me. She doesn’t even know you! So heal her or get out of my way so I can hold her for her last moments.
“She will not die,” he said, ripping the scalpel out with a squirt of blood.
“What are you doing?” she shrieked, rushing over to put pressure on the wound with her hands.
“Move,” she picked her up and moved her away from Cue. “Now, look.”
Cue lay there unconscious, chest rising and falling too rapidly, the blood was gushing out of her, until it wasn’t. Her breathing began to slow.
“She’s dying!” Trigger cried, throwing herself at her, but the Creitin held her back.
“I said LOOK,” he demanded, whipping away the blood on her chest.
Trigger looked at the wound, or rather, the lack of one. 
“I don't understand,” she said, reaching for Cue’s hand.
“Why do you think she stayed safe in that dome alone for so long?” The Cretin asked. ‘How do you think she gathered alone and never once got overwhelmed by zombies, or bitten or scratched?”
“She’s the very best survivor I know,” Trigger said fondly, pushing the hair off of her forehead and laying a gentle kiss there.
“Are you so blind?” he scoffed. “You people think we’re ignorant, but we’re just the next apex predator.”
“The doctor was right then, you’re the next step in evolution?”
“Look at this world. Look at me, look at you.” 
She did look at him, his strong, healthy physique, his tattoos, the care it must take to maintain dreadlocks in itself, much less in the post-apocalypse, to be pristine. She looked at herself, scrawny but strong, clearly underfed.
“Now look at Cue,” he said softly, laying a hand on her knee.
He was right, Cue looked healthy as a horse.
“Is it starting to make sense now?” he asked, looking deep into Trigger’s green eyes.
“It’s not possible, we…we’ve made love.”
“The disease is only spread by breaking skin. Cue? She’s a Cretin. And I’ve been watching over her since her boyfriend killed her parents and infected her so very long ago.”
“Who are you?” Trigger asked, eyes wide in shock. 
“Her guardian, until she figured out her powers and got her own horde. But you can call me Blaze.