The sky was a dense, inky black. Rumbles of thunder, distant and nearby, broke out at random but regular intervals and deafening the moans and screams, if only for a moment. The rain was hard and heavy, dragging the streaks of crimson along with it. Amidst the cracks and crevices of the pavement, small flowers had started to bloom; curious, crimson red little buds, little splashes of vibrant colour among the slowly building horde of walking corpses taking to the streets of the town.
Jennifer had ducked into an alleyway to catch a breather, panting heavily as she leaned against the wall, the adrenaline rush fading fast. The pitchfork in her hands wasn’t the best weapon in the world, and she’d made it this far largely by using it to impale and fling corpses aside, leaving her arms almost as heavy as her heart. She was still trying to process everything emotionally, but everything was happening so fast; She’d lost the only family she had left, met a stranger from the south who claimed he could help, had to run from the reanimated corpses of her only family and her friendly neighbour, her hometown, this sleepy little town called Troughton, had gone absolute mad, and she’d been separated from her best friend by a fiery explosion, something she never thought she’d see up close. It was all a bit overwhelming, to say the least. It didn’t even feel all that real; she knew that if one of those things got close it was game over at least on a pure common sense level, but... these things WERE walking dead. Zombies aren’t real, right? They’re just fictional, surely. So why are the dead no longer dead...?
The sound of a scream nearby brought her back to reality. Peering out the corner of the alleyway to look up the street, she recognised where she was; only a hundred yards or so down the street, if that, was a tall building that appeared to have a vague art deco styling, an inactive neon light sign spelling out the word “Davison’s.” The club her dad worked at. What also caught her eye, though, was what was happening maybe 50 yards away; a group of 6 people were being accosted by a couple of undead creatures, backed against a wall with no way out. She didn’t immediately recognise them and the rain was too dense to really make out any features, but it looked like they had a kid with them.
For a moment, Jennifer was stunned silent, completely unsure of what to do. I mean, she wanted to help them, but...
Images of her father flashed before her eyes, very briefly. No, she knew exactly what to do.
A second wind backing her, Jennifer tore from the alleyway, pitchfork primed. As she got close, the zombies turned their attention to her, for all the good it did- a zombie in a torn wedding dress reached for her with flailing arms, only to have a pitchfork shoved through her eye, and a zombie in a turtleneck approaching her from behind was floored by a swift kick to it’s abdomen, going down, but not for long. She looked around a few times to get a better scope of the zombies approaching, none of which were as close nor as interested, at least not yet. Swallowing any lingering fear, at least for a moment, she turned back to the group, getting a clearer picture of them; two girls, one in a sharp suit and one that looked to be about 18, a middle aged Indian man in a turtleneck, a younger man in shorts, and two boys that despite the differing hair colour looked to be identical twins.
“Listen,” She said, approaching the group- who at first seemed a little apprehensive, until realising she meant no harm. “There’s a nightclub just a few yards from here; the big building with the neon sign. It has big heavy doors, sturdy walls, and is probably the safest place we can be right now.” She produced a set of keys from her pocket, holding them out. “I just need you to trust me to keep you safe.”
The woman in the business suit approached first, taking the keys from her hand, still uncertain. “And... who are you exactly?”
“I think it would be best if we did the meet and greet when we’re safe.” Jennifer said uneasily, turning back around at the sound of a moan and scraping metal; a zombie that somehow managed to get a swingball- pole included- wrapped around it’s neck, snarling at the group with outstretched arms. She aimed for the head again and in another quick motion, shoved the fork through the creatures face and yanking it back out, causing it to go limp fairly quick.
“We have to trust her.” The Indian man said, firmly. Both the twins let out hushed noises of agreement, nodding. “ I mean, be realistic; what other choice do we have?”
“Die out here and fuck all else, probably.” The younger man said, shivering slightly. “I’m game.” The teenage girl didn’t say anything, but she gave Jennifer a thankful smile.
“... Fine.” The woman in the suit said, giving an unsure glance back to Jennifer. “What do you want us to do?”
Jennifer scanned the crowd of zombies in front of her for an opening; in a huge stroke of luck, there was a path in the middle of the horde that seemed mostly clear and lead right to the front door of the club. She gestured at it. “Make a run for it, and I’ll cover you from behind.”
After the group shared some uneasy glances and steeled themselves, they nodded at her.
“I won’t let anything happen to you.” Jennifer said, her pitchfork primed. “I promise.”
After a moments, when the path seemed it’s widest, the group made a break for it, Jennifer following a few paces behind jabbing at the groping hands reaching for the group quickly, any sense of fear or dread pushed back by the need she felt to get these people to safety.
---
“Who are you, exactly?”
The question had taken Gabe by surprise, to say the least. It was the first real thing that Fiona had said since they started crossing through overgrown alleyways that ran around the back of houses, seemingly (and thankfully) devoid of undead life, although the silence had allowed the ever present moaning and screaming sounding out across the distance to keep the atmosphere tense and uneasy.
“You still don’t trust me?” Gabe answered, a little hurt but trying not to show it.
“Nah, it’s not that. I mean, I don’t know if I’d tell you my deepest darkest secrets or ask you back to mine for coffee, but...” Fiona paused at the sound of a much closer shriek, stopping the two dead in their tracks for a moment. When it seemed they weren’t in any immediate danger. They continued. “I trust you’re not a complete asswipe and I trust you enough to help us through this, but I still don’t really know anything about you.” Fiona said, in a more hushed voice.
“You want my sign, blood type and my dream date, or the full biopic?”
“Mate, would it kill you to not be a prick for like, five minutes?”
“Look, there isn’t really a lot TO say.” Gabe said, eyes darting side to side to make sure they weren’t accosted by any undead fiends during their heart to heart. “I’m just some guy that looks into weird supernatural shit. It’s as simple as that.”
“For cash?” Fiona asked, point blank.
“Money is a part of it, yeah.” Gabe said.
“So, what, you single out those grieving over the loss of a loved one specifically, or...”
“I didn’t know she’d lost her father until she told me.” Gabe said, annoyed. “Literally all I really heard before making my approach was ‘the police will never believe me’, which in my line of work is the best kind of job ad you could go for.”
“Whatever.” Fiona sighed. “I suppose it hardly matters now the world’s gone down the shitter.”
“We don't know that.” Gabe said, although the uncertainty in his own voice was evident. “For all we know, this could... just be Troughton.”
“Man, you know that’s never how it works in the movies. Once zombies start springing up randomly, the world is fucked.” Fiona said drearily.
It took Gabe a while to respond, his attention taken by a batch of bright red flowers. They looked to be in bloom, very unusual for this time of year, at least as far as wild flowers went. He’d seen them all over the town, around the grass and sometimes poking through the pavement, but now they were really starting to stand out; he’d never seen anything like them before, and something about them felt... Off. He shook his head, focusing back on the conversation. “So why are you still fighting?”
“I’m not gonna lay down and wait for something to kill me.” Fiona said, gripping the spade tightly. “If we’re fucked... I’m going down fighting.”
“That’s very noble, but that’s not it.” Gabe said. “You’re hoping against hope for a solution, just like the rest of us are.”
“And what the hell makes you so sure of that?!” Fiona said, pivoting on a toe to turn around and give Gabe her (he was starting to assume trademarked) glare.
“Because if you asked me, I’d have said the same thing, and would be lying through my teeth about my true feelings too.”
They held the gaze for a moments, staring each other down practically, until another boom and a shockwave nearly knocked Gabe off his ass- and DID knock Fiona off of hers. Pausing to help Fiona up, the pair quickly dashed down the rest of the alley, which opened out onto a street; the sudden rush of heat was a surprise to both of them, as was the sudden bright glare in their eyes, but as they adjusted to the change in temperature and brightness, they saw what had happened; a petrol tanker and a delivery lorry had somehow collided into each other, and had plowed through several buildings in the process.
“Aww, fuck’s sake.” Fiona hissed, kicking the ground with the toe of her sneaker in annoyance. “‘Course that fuckin’ happened. That was the quickest way back onto Cartmel Drive...”
Gabe looked around sullenly for some kind of solution, spotting one off to their right, roughly back in the direction they came from, and no doubt the direction the club was in. “We could always try through there...” he said.
Fiona turned to look, and her face dropped immediately. “Oh, please tell me you’re fucking with me.”
He was gesturing at the entrance to Logan’s Haven, the local cemetery. It did open back out to Cartmel Drive, practically right by the club, but... a cemetery?
“I wish I was...” Gabe said, just as unsettled. “But I don’t think there ARE any other options.”
“You owe me big time for this, ghost boy.”
---
It was a close call, but by some miracle of god, they’d managed to get into the club without a single bite or scrape. Jennifer’s suspicions were correct, too; the main doors were large, sturdy, and ready to take a beating. Still, she and some of the group had taken it upon themselves to barricade the doors of the main room with chairs, just to be safe.
It was eerie how odd the club felt; she knew it was safe, but something about the hazy purple and green lighting against the black and white marble walls felt a lot less vibrant and exciting then normal. Perhaps the lack of people or music to distract from how comparatively quiet or empty the place really was didn’t help. Perhaps it was the ever hungry horde of monsters separated from them by only two doors and a stack of chairs and tables.
She thought the group might have all known each other, but it turns out most of them met more or less the same way she met them; the Indian gentleman was named Amar, and had apparently be attacked on his way into town visiting relatives, and was saved by the teenage girl, Mary, the neighbour of the twins Rory and Tony, who had taken it upon herself to look after them when the outbreak stuck. The young man in the shorts, Alec, was pulled out of a car wreck that had taken most of his immediate memory from before the outbreak, by the presumed leader of the group, the woman in the business suit, Carla. By the sounds of things, it had been an especially bad day for everyone; Jennifer didn’t pry, it it was pretty clear from the haunted looks on everyone's faces that they’d either lost contact with, or flat out lost people they cared about, and everyone was coping with it in different ways.
“I’ll be the one to cap the elephant in the room, then; the hell are we gonna do now?” Alec said, fists jammed firmly in his pockets. “I mean, yeah, we’re safe, but for how long?”
“Alec...” Amar said, brows furrowing.
“I’m just sayin’! I mean, how much food or water do we have? Do we even have a plan here?”
“My friend is out there with someone.” Jennifer said, sensing the growing tension. “Someone who says they... have some experience with this kind of thing.” Ok, so he did say he hadn’t had any experience with zombies specifically, but Gabe at least seemed more accepting to and open to the concept of things like this happening, at least from what she could gleam of his attitude before things hit the fan. I mean, he humoured her when she said she thought her father had got up for a stroll shortly after dying, right?
“Can we really count watching zombie films as experience?” Carla said, dryly.
“No, no, not like that!” Jennifer said, almost defensively. “He said he... took an interest in supernatural cases.”
“Oh, a fruitcake.” Carla said, letting out a sigh and pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance. “Even better.”
“With the greatest respect, Carla,” Amar cut in, strolling over to the bar Carla was near, leaning on it. “I don’t have a clue what’s going on in this town, but I’d hardly call the dead coming back and eating people ‘normal.’”
“So, what, you think this is the work of the devil, or something?”
“I didn’t say that. I’m just pointing out that what’s going on out there isn’t exactly scientifically sound.”
Alec held his head in his head, letting out a despairing moan. “You guys don’t think... it’s like, judgement day or somethin’? Like, end of times shit?”
Jennifer cringed a bit at the statement; ignoring the tactlessness of implying the world was fucked in front of a group that included two terrified twelve year olds, there wasn’t really any way to answer the question. Absolutely nobody had any idea how to explain the situation at all, let alone how bad it was or if there even was a solution, and Jennifer knew it.
“... I don’t know.” She said, attempting to ease the tension. “But we can’t just... give up.”
“Nobody said anything about giving up.” Amar said.
“I implied it.” Alec said, raising his hand awkwardly.
“But Carla and Alec are, in a roundabout way, right.” Amar said, looking at Jennifer with a softer gaze then she’d seen him give anyone else so far. “Did you have much of a plan besides getting us in here? And how long can we realistically stay here?”
“There’s plenty of water, I know that much.” Jennifer said, thinking back to the training she’d gotten back when she applied for a job here. “Food might be a different story... maybe a weeks worth, tops. So, I guess... no. I was thinking short term.”
Amar nodded. “Ok. That’s a start.”
“Can we even guarantee the doors will last? Or that that barricade will hold?” Carla said, still not convinced. “Like, alright, the food situation is sorted, barely, but can you promise security? What about weapons; the only one of us armed was Mary, and she lost her grip on the damn thing not long before you came to save us.”
Mary looked away, awkwardly scratching the back of her head.
“I appreciate that you got us in here, I really do, but we need to actually THINK, or-”
“I don’t know, alright?!” Jennifer spat, annoyance taking over. “I don’t know any more then you do! Blimey, this morning my only concern was whether I had enough milk to make the tea, I didn’t count on having to make complex plans for survival later today!”
Carla looked down at the ground, rubbing her arm.
“I’m just trying to stay alive. Just like you all are. Right now, that’s all we can do.” Jennifer said sullenly, before heading over to one of the booths, leaning her arms on the table and burying her head in them.
“Good job, Carla.” Amar whispered, staring daggers at her. “Really diplomatic.”
“Oh... piss off, Amar.”
Amar, Carla and Alec began talking amongst themselves again, but by this point, Jennifer had drowned them all out. It was almost surreal thinking that her morning started off with her happily making the morning cuppa, the biggest concern in her head being whether or not she’d have to pop down the Co Op to grab an extra two pinter. Christ, what was that, barely two hours ago? If that? And now here she was, surrounded by a bunch of people she didn’t even know, hoping on a whim her friend and the stranger with her were still alive. Christ, she hadn’t even thought about how she was going to let them in when they got here, or how she’d even KNOW when they got here.
“Are you ok?”
Jennifer pulled her head up, noticing that the two twins had seated themselves next to her, and Mary had taken a seat opposite her. They all looked concerned, but it was concern directed at her.
“... Yeah, I’m alright.” Jennifer said, with a very weak smile. “I’m just... a little scared, I guess.”
“Oh.” Rory said quietly, twiddling his thumbs idly, ginger bangs falling over his eyes as he turned away.
“That’s ok.” Tony said, shuffling awkwardly in his seat. “We’re scared, too.”
Suddenly, a memory entered her head. She was six years old, and had just fallen out of a tree she was climbing and had broken her leg. She was always adventurous, she was told, back then and even now. It hurt so, so bad, worse then any cut or bruise she’d had up to now. She was crying from the second ‘til the moment she was lifted into the back of the ambulance, so much she couldn’t really see very clearly. She couldn’t really make out what anyone was saying to her, just that people were talking to her. She felt so bad about crying; her dad never cried no matter what happened to him. He was big, strong, and brave. Then, she heard it clear as day. ‘It‘s ok.’ It was a familiar, deep voice, but it sounded much more vulnerable then she remembered it. She turned around, her vision clearing enough to make out who spoke; it was her dad. His big, broad shoulders were slumped, and he didn’t have that confident look on his face for the first time ever. He reached out, gently holding her hand. His eyes looked wet. ‘I’m... scared too.’ Dad was... scared? My big strong papa was scared? Everything changed in that moment; she was still crying, but she didn’t feel as bad about it anymore.
She came around when she felt a warm hand grasping her own, and blinked a few times; it was Mary. She had a knowing look on her face. An immeasurably sad face that said ‘I understand.’ without words.
For the first time since this started, Jennifer felt moisture drop from her eyes and onto her cheeks. She covered her eyes with her free hand, her shoulders heaving and shuddering slightly as she quietly sobbed. Both the twins looked up at her with sad eyes, Tony eventually awkwardly reaching over and patting her back. She didn’t notice, but Alec, Amar and Carla had stopped arguing amongst themselves, and were watching with equally understanding, but no less painful glances.
---
After fighting with the rusty gates, Gabe and Fiona had finally managed to slip in to the graveyard; the actual graves were a short walk down a cobblestone footpath, sprawled out along grounds that had grown uneven over the years, some headstones slumping into the ground, some crumbling away, some brand new, most covered in moss. More then a few graves had already opened themselves up, and patches upon patches of those red flowers were weaving inbetween the tall grass, around some of the headstones, and even growing out of the dug up graves. Both Gabe and Fiona shivered a little bit, their eyes darting from left to right on the lookout for any corpses.
As they cautiously walked around the grounds, Gabe eventually turned to Fiona. “It’s a hell of a big graveyard for such a comparatively small town...”
“I thought so too. It’s got a lot of history, apparently; a lot of fallen soldiers from both wars had graves marked here. A lot of the surrounding towns and cities use it, to. It’s kinda Troughton's claim to fame.”
“That’s... morbid.” Gabe gulped, nearly tripping over a mostly decayed headstone.
“You’re tellin’ me... Always thought it was kinda creepy. Doubly so now.” Fiona murmured, holding the spade close for comfort. “... I hope Jen’s ok. I’m really worried about her.”
Gabe walked up behind her, setting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I saw how you two double teamed that one back in the garden. She’s a fighter, alright; she’ll pull through.”
Fiona smiled at Gabe. “You think...?”
“I know.”
Gabe pulled his hand away, and the two continued weaving between headstones. “Y’know...” Fiona started, smirking slightly. “I thought it was the men who saved the girls...?”
“Fiona...”
“Gotta,
say though, your scream was something else. Didn’t think tough guys like you could reach notes that high.”
“Yeah, thanks, I get it.”
“It was kinda cute actually...”
“Not nearly as funny as you think it is, you cow.”
Fiona chuckled. “Oh, relax, dickhead, can’t you take a joke?”
Gabe was looking away, blushing slightly. “I dunno, you got any to tell?”
Fiona laughed even harder. “Fuck, man, you’re a hoot. I dunno why I thought you were, like, gonna rob Jen or whatever...”
Gabe felt insulted. “Oh, don’t even pretend you don’t think I’m dangerous. I’m incredibly dangerous.”
“Dangerous enough to somehow have built a rapport with some tail you only met a couple of hours ago?” Fiona smirked.
“Hey, hey, a man can be suave and dangerous!” Gabe said, going slightly redder.
“Funny, because you are none of those three things!”
Gabe was about to retort by letting her know that he charms the shit out of everyone he meets regardless of gender and could TOTALLY be best friends with everyone he meets in like five minutes on the basis that he was just that cool and approachable, but rounding the corner and spying a massive crypt looming over that side of the graveyard somewhat took the friendly ambience out of the situation and pushed things right back into unsavoury territory. Or, rather, the crypt and the large crowd of zombies hanging around in front. The pair of them ducked behind the nearest headstone almost reflexively, sharing a quick, quiet argument over who should look; it was decided that Gabe was the best candidate as the “experienced” supernatural exterminator, and peeking over the gravestone made the dire straits of the situation more obvious; the zombies swayed in the wind and moaned, but they didn’t advance; hell, it was like they didn’t even know he and Fiona were there. From what he could see, these zombies were mostly ragged and dry looking, suggesting they were bodies buried in the graveyard. More curiously, though, he noticed quite a few of them not only sported red eyes, but their bodies appeared to have roots running beneath the skin. Some even had flowers bursting forth from their skin; the same red flowers he’d been seeing everywhere since he arrived. One of the less ancient looking zombie began to quiver and twitch slightly, before entering a violent spasm, gurgling and crying out in fury, until a slightly popping sound could be heard. And then another. And another. Finally, the corpse stopped twitching, straightening back up.
A flower was blowing from it’s right eye, and two more had emerged on it’s abdomen and inner thigh. Gabe and Fiona looked at each other with bewilderment in their eyes.
“Y-you’re the spookspert; wanna tell me what that was?!” Fiona said in a hushed whisper.
“Ok, first of all, never call me that EVER again, and second of all, I have no fucking idea!” Gabe spat back. “Who the fuck ever heard of botanic undead?!”
“So what t-the hell do we do?!”
“I don’t know... They... they look like they’re guarding that crypt.” Gabe said, peeking over the gravestone again. “... I hate to say it, but I think... maybe there’s something important in-”
He was cut off by a shrill shriek; turning around, he saw Fiona sprawled out on the ground, trying to pull herself away from a hand that had grasped her ankle.
“Shit!” Gabe murmured under his breath. He had two seconds to decide how to handle this; take out the hand, or poke at the ground and hope he got the head. The second option seemed more reliable, but he needed a weapon, and Fiona’s spade was too far away. Realising things could turn bad fast, he inhaled, swallowed his pride, and decided to go with option A, and brought his heel down hard on the exposed wrist; he felt something give way beneath it, but the hand wasn’t entirely severed from the arm, and the uncomfortable wriggling Fiona’s foot was doing wasn’t helping much. Both annoyed and panicked, Gabe brought his heel down again, even harder, and again, and again after that in quick succession, until finally he heard- and felt- the snapping of tendons and bone beneath him, and saw Fiona scurry away as soon as she could, reaching for her spade and pulling herself up. The two watched the earth around the grave start to move, slide way, as slowly, the corpse beneath pulled itself upwards; flowers were blooming from it’s exposed skull, and roots appeared to be falling out of the creatures mouth.
Just and Gabe and Fiona were getting into fighting stances, however, the earth beneath them began to shift and tremble; before either of them knew it, the very ground beneath them hard started to give way, and they’d started to sink in. The pair of them tried pulling their legs and feet free in vain, until the hole opened up proper, swallowing the pair of them.
---
The group had been in the club maybe half an hour by this point, everyone easing into an awkward, but somewhat peaceful silence. Mary and the twins were still sat in the booth, both boys resting their heads on her lap and napping quietly. Amar was quietly sipping a gin and tonic, to calm his nerves somewhat, whilst Carla had gone out back to double check the food situation. Alec was on weapon-finding duty, and was scouring some of the other dancefloors and the upper balconies for anything they could use.
Jennifer was hanging around at the fire escape at the side of the building, keeping a lookout, and had been for about the last fifteen minutes. Not many of the creatures had even bothered to come down the side alley despite it opening up onto the street, and the ones that did wander down were easily taken care of. She had a good idea that Fiona would lead Gabe back round this way by coming off of Newman Road, and even all the way at the back by the door, she had a good view of the corner of the road. She had a clearer view of Logan’s Haven, which mad her shiver; a graveyard is the last place you’d want to be in a crisis like this, let alone one that big. The rain didn’t show any signs of letting up any time soon, but if getting a bit wet meant making sure her friend got in here safely, that’s all that mattered.
Her attention drifted, briefly, when she felt something brush against the side of her sneaker; jumping a bit and preparing to trample on whatever it was, she stopped mid-stop when she noticed that it appeared to be some sort of stem growing out of the ground slowly, sprouting into a bright red flower almost gracefully, causing her to back up a bit. She’d never seen a flower like it before, let alone see one appear to grow and bloom quite that fast. She didn’t have much time to muse on it however, as the sound of a gun going off rang out from inside the club, making her jump. After regaining her composure, she dashed back upstairs, slamming the door behind her. One of the zombies on the street starting to twitch and spasm just as the door closed.
Back inside the club proper, she scanned the immediate area; the twins’ ginger and blonde hair was standing on end as the pair clung to a dazed looked Mary with wide eyes, Amar was wearing what appeared to be a very bold alcohol stain on his sweater, and Carla was on the floor, hyperventilating and grasping her chest.
“What the heck just happened?!” Jennifer said, finally walking in. She caught Alec out of the corner of her eye, and upon turning to face him, saw him standing prone against the back of the bar, looking just as shocked as everyone else; the difference being, he was holding a rifle in his arms. “... Is that a gun...?”
“I-I-I found it u-under the bar!” Alec stammered, placing the gun on the bartop and gazing at it like it was a monster. “I th-thought it was probably gonna be inactive, y’know like a display piece or somethin’, but as my finger brushed the trigger...”
Jennifer squeezed passed the tight entrance to the bar, coming up next to Alec and examining the rifle. It appeared to be a droplock rifle of some kind, with extravagate engravings on displayed on both sides of the handle and shoulder stock; it looked old, but clearly still functioned, as the smoking hole in the opposite wall and loud noise told her.
“Where did you find it?” She asked Alec, turning to him.”
“Under the bar... there’s a compartment down there by the pipes, it was in there.”
She followed his point finger, getting onto her knees and inspecting the compartment. It wasn’t very big, but the rifle clearly fit in there nicely, as did a box of shells that was packed away with it. Did her dad know about this? Was it even licenced? Oh god, Davison’s didn’t have gang ties, did it?
She shook her head, brushing the questions aside for the meantime, pulling out the box of shells. As she idly counted them, and inspected the barrel of the gun itself to see how many it could hold, Amar, Clara, and Alec had congregated around her, looking on with interest. Mary and the twins slowly approached from the side, but kept their distance. As Jennifer loaded the gun and held it up, Amar and Clara backed out of the way, exchanging worried glances. She didn’t know much about guns, but she knew you kept your finger on the guard, not the trigger, unless you were going to shoot for definite. She closed one eye and looked down the sight of the barrel, shifting it in her arms so it was more comfortable.
“... I guess this solves the weapon problem.” She said aloud, pulling the gun back down, and inspecting it further.
“M-Mary...” Rory whimpered, pointing at the barricade. “What’s that?”
Jennifer turned to look, her eyes going wide. It was a flower, just like the one from outside, bursting through a crack between the doors, almost making it wider. She could see another one blooming, causing another crack. A draft entered the room as more and more flowers began to bud and bloom around the door.
Jennifer and Alec had worked their way from around the bar, staring wide eyed at the sight. Everyone’s faces fell as the sound of moaning could be heard on the other side.
Jennifer turned to Amar, handing him the pitchfork. “Get everyone up to the fourth floor. There’s a fire escape right at the back that’ll take you to the street behind here. If they make it up there, that’s your only way out.”
“Wh-what about you?!” Tony said, his voice shrill.
“Aren’t you scared?” his brother chimed in.
“Absolutely terrified.” Jennifer said, aiming the gun at the door. “But someone has to hold them off, and I’m saving you lot the trouble of having to choose. Now go!”
“But...” Carla started, before being cut off.
“I have to do this...” Jennifer said. “In case my friend shows up. I have to stay here.”
The group exchanged glances for a moment, all of them realising Jennifer likely wasn’t going to listen to them. Carla was the first to turn and leave for the stairs. “Damn stubborn kids...” she mumbled to herself. Alec went next, scratching his arm. “S-Sorry ‘bout the wall...” He stammered. Amar gently pat Jennifer on the shoulder, nodding at her before making his leave. Mary and the twins were last, Mary giving Jennifer another sad smile before turning and leaving.
“Promise you’ll come get us!” Rory blurted out as they disappeared into the doorway.
“I promise.” Jennifer said, ignoring the knot in her stomach as she aimed the rifle at the door. The creatures on the other side started pounding on it, shifting the tables and chairs by it, moaning hungrily.
---
“Will you stop moaning already?”
Fiona rubbed the back of her head, struggling to pull herself to her feet. “Give me a fucking break; I’ve never had a fall like that before.”
“Neither have I, and I’m doing alright.” Gabe said, rolling his shoulder slightly to loosen it.
“Good for you.”
The pair of them looked around; the cave wasn’t pitch black, but it wasn’t especially bright. They could vaguely see the source of the light was somewhere ahead. Roughly in the direction of the crypt.
“Hey.” Gabe said, pointing in the direction of the barely visible light. “That looks like a way out.”
“... That’s in the direction of the crypt, isn’t it?” Fiona said, with a gulp.
“Yeah... and some answers.” Gabe said, feeling about for a wall on his left side, before slowly advancing in the direction of the light.
“God, do you get off on sounding dramatic or something?” Fiona moaned, doing much the same, following Gabe closely behind.
“I dunno. Felt natural to me.”
The closer they got to the light, the more they could make out around them; the walls were earthy, absolutely covered in thread-like roots that clung to the earth tenaciously. They seemed to be coming directly from the direction they were walking in, too, almost in a neat, calculated pattern. Once they got close enough, they could make out a hole in a wall directly in front of them leading to a room made of stone. After uneasily trying to squeeze through the gap, the pair dropped down into a large, airy room packed with stone coffins. It was definitely the crypt the zombies were guarding. Perhaps the most disturbing thing, though, were all the stone coffins; they were empty, but red flowers caked the insides of all of them. They covered the walls, too. There was a set of stairs in front of them that lead further downwards, which seemed to be the source of all the flowers and roots. After exchanging tense glances, the pair headed down the stairs, their footfalls echoing around them loudly.
The sight at the bottom was something neither of them were prepared for; walls upon walls of empty graves, roots and flowers, many much larger then any seen so far, lined all the walls, and there, dead in the centre, was what appeared to be a man clad in tatters of clothes that appear to have, at one point, been a British army uniform. There were branches bursting forth from his contorted limbs, his legs all but eaten away by roots that dug through the ground, having cracked the ageing concrete around them sometime ago, his neck broken backwards and his multiple wounds leaking a viscous, white liquid that seemed to be dripping onto the floor, forming a puddle. There was a bush of red flowers and bright green foliage growing from his exposed gullet, apparently in place of actual intestines.
“Oh... oh god...” Fiona whimpered, unable to really take everything in. Gabe’s mouth hung open in surprise unsure of what to do. He took a cautious step forward, the cracking tile beneath his shoe splitting in half in the process; the noise had apparently alerted the creature in front of them, as the next thing Gabe knew, roots had shot up and around both of his legs, binding them together; another pair of roots shot out around his wrists, pulling his arms up towards the ceiling, leaving himself open and vulnerable. He let out a cry of surprised, struggling against his bonds, seemingly to no avail.
“Gabe!” Fiona cried out, making a move to help him, before a root shot out, shoving into her stomach roughly and flinging her against the wall, dazing her badly.
HOW DID YOU GET DOWN HERE?
The voice clawed it’s way into both of their heads rather then being spoken, like an invasive thought, which made the pair of them cringe. Gabe was the first to speak. “W-who are you? What are you?!”
YOU DIDN’T ANSWER MY QUESTION; HOW DID YOU GET DOWN HERE? HOW HAVE YOU AVOIDED CONVERSION?
Another root shout out, wrapping itself around Gabe’s neck, restricting his airway somewhat; not enough to choke him, but enough to make him uncomfortable. “Th-the w-w-all!! Th-there’s a h-hole in the w-wall!!” He choked out.
The creature seemed satisfied, loosening it’s grip.
YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE BEEN ABLE TO SLIP PASSED MY MANY MOUTHS. THAT YOU HAVE IS BUT AN OVERSIGHT, A MISCALCULATION.
“What the hell are you?!” Gabe said again, trying to sound demanding, but it came out as a strained whimper. “Answer me!”
A sickening, self satisfied chuckle rang out in their ears.
I AM ANCIENT, CHILD. SO OLD I HAVE FORGOTTEN MY OWN NAME. I’VE BEEN TRAPPED DOWN HERE FOR SO LONG THAT ALL I REMEMBER ARE BRIGHT LIGHTS. LOUD NOISES. PAIN. DEATH. HUNGER.
The tendrils binding Gabe tightened at the word hunger.
BUT THAT IS ABOUT TO CHANGE. YOUR KIND IS ESPECIALLY USEFUL TO ME; YOUR BODIES MAKE A GOOD MEDIUM FOR ME TO CONTROL, YOUR NATURAL TENACITY EVEN IN DEATH MAKES YOU OVERWHELMING IN LARGE NUMBERS. AND YOUR ESSENCE IS THE PUREST I HAVE EVER TASTED... YOU ARE FINE LIVESTOCK.
Fiona was visibly shaking, eyes tearing at the corners. “Livestock...?”
MY ROOTS HAVE BREACHED THE SURFACE THANKS TO YOUR BURIAL RITUALS. THEY HAVE BEEN SLOWLY SPREADING MY FLOWERS ACROSS THE LAND, AND WILL CONTINUE TO DO SO WITH EACH LIFE I CONSUME.
“I’ll stop you...!” Gabe grunted, pulling against his restraints again. “I’ll stop you if it’s the last thing I do...!”
Another grim chuckle sounded out, eventually exploding into vigorous laughter. Then, suddenly, an impossible sharp pain shot through Gabe’s neck; it was absolutely excruciating, burning even, so painful he wanted to scream. But it only lasted a second. What followed was absolutely nothing. Not blackness, not silence, just nothing.
Gabe’s body went limp. The roots dropped him. Fiona screamed.
---
Her shoulder hurt. Her ears were ringing. She felt sick. But she kept on firing into the crowd of zombies, absolutely determined to keep them at bay. She panted popping off shot after shot, quickly reloading when she needed to, slowly backing up the stairs. In front of her were a sea of gnashing mouth, grabbing hands, and crimson. Some zombies were badly wounded; others had flowers like the one’s that grew around the door growing from their bodies. She was no longer questioning, simply fighting.
Damn, that’d already driven her from the first floor, and they’d pushed her back to the edge of the second. Halfway to the others. The crowd had thinned somewhat, but there were still too many to take on, and she was running low on ammo. She glanced up the stairway behind her, and dashed up it, into the third floor bar; the door was single file, much harder for them to push through, and she figured it would be doubly so if something were in front of it; she darted around, noting some of the tables in the area were fairly sturdy, or at least enough to get the job done, and dragged it in front of the open door. She kicked another table on it’s side, perching herself behind it, aiming the gun, and waited. If she could down at least a couple with her last few shots, that might buy everyone enough time to get out.
Her first day taking over the family business wasn’t going quite as well as she’d hoped; her bar had been ransacked, the patrons were rowdy, and she had no control. But then, this was hardly a typical day for any bouncer. ‘At least I’ll go down keeping people safe’ she thought, a knowing smile crossing her face as she plugged her final three shots into the crowd, taking down two, one of which fell forwards and knocked the table out of the door’s way.
Suddenly, she heard footsteps behind her. Alec had run up by her side, brandishing a fire axe in one hand, and a cricket bat in the other. He looked pale, but there was determination in his eyes.
“Alec...?”
“I-I’m here to help... however I can.” He said, holding the bat out to her. “I haven’t been very useful so far... other’n finding a gun all I’ve done is moan. Amar and Clara are leading Mary and the twins to safety. Figured I could help you buy them some time.”
Jennifer’s smile turned from an accepting one into a confident one, taking the bat from him. “Thank you, Alec. I appreciate it.”
“Thank me when we’re not dead, ok?” he said, cracking a smile for the first time they’d met.
Jennifer nodded at him, before the pair turned to the horde advancing on them, weapons primed.
---
Gabe wasn’t sure when the nothing stopped, but his senses had returned, and so had the feeling in his wrists and legs; in fact, they didn’t feel like they’d been bound at all. He lifted himself off of the stone floor, wondering what the hell just happened. He stopped when he realised he was still in the crypt; at first he thought his vision was hazy, but he realised it was the crypt itself that looked all fizzy and washed out. He didn’t have much time to ponder that, though, as he took in what was happening; Fiona was huddled in the corner grasping at her spade, looking on in wide eyed horror; roots were heading straight for her.
And he was laying on the floor off to the side, with a broken neck.
He started to hyperventilate. No... he... He wasn’t... He couldn’t be...
“Dead? Yes, I’m afraid so.”
Gabe whipped around, to be greeted by the sight of a man. Or, was it a woman? It was hard to tell; the features of the being were fairly androgynous. They appeared to be wearing a fine, grey black and white pinstripe suit accented with a bright red tie that they were adjusting idly. It was then that Gabe noticed they were also using their long, pale blue hair as some sort of chair, but were otherwise hovering in mid air.
“Oh god. Oooohhhhhhh god.” Gabe said, clutching his chest. He felt the sensation of his heartbeat quickening with the rising panic, which part of him would have noted was very ironic indeed where he not just told he was fucking dead. “Oh god I’m dead and you’re the reaper aren’t you oh shit oh man this is judgement day isn’t it we’re all doomed and-”
The person laughed, holding up their hand. “Please, please, much as your panicked blubbering is just the most precious thing, I’m afraid I haven’t got a lot of time to talk; time may be moving slowly for us, but it is still moving.”
Gabe looked around, noticing that though a minor distance, the roots had gotten closer to Fiona, and Fiona herself had started standing up. He turned back to the person, barely calming his breathing. “What...?”
“I know you have many questions and I know that this is going to be very hard to process, Gabriel, but yes, you are dead. However, you will not be dead for long. As we speak, your neck is healing, resetting its position, and your brain is requiring itself. All the minor injuries you have sustained thus far are also healing. You will be in tip top shape and ready to continue the fight.”
“Is this... Some kinda devil thing?” Gabe asked, barely processing the words but understanding that this wasn’t the end.
“No.” The person said, with a slight sad smile. “This, I’m afraid, is a burden you carry for reasons besides your fathers’ blood.”
Gabe traces his hands over his chest. He didn’t understand, not at all, but... maybe...
“... Yes. It has something to do with that.”
“Who are you?” Gabe asked, bluntly.
“Well, I’m not The Reaper, to answer your earlier question.” The person said, winking. “And I’m not Yaweh or Satan, either. But I am very important.”
“But you've got no time to explain so instead you’re being all mystical and self important?” Gabe growled, annoyed and upset.
“Bingooooo~” The person said, in a sing song voice, adjusting their position so they were standing and slowly walked over to Gabe, placing both their hands on his shoulders gently. “I promise you that you will get your answers. But right now, you need to save that girl’s life. You need to save the lives of all the survivors in Troughton.”
Gabe turned back, looking at the scene, taking it all in. He balled his fists tightly. “As soon as this is over... I’ll be back.”
The person grinned toothily. “Excellent! I can hardly wait~”
And with that, again, the complete absence of anything washed over Gabe like a wave.
---
“Argh!!”
Jennifer turned around, noticing Alec pull away from a zombie that had leapt ahead of the crowd roughly before planting the axe in it’s head. He winced, groaning under his breath.
“Are you ok?!” She called out, reaching the top of the last flight of stairs.
He gazed up at her, showing off his arm. There was blood seeping from an open wound.
Oh no.
“Go on without me.” He said, staring down at the rest of the horde coming up the stairs.
“No! We can help you... m-maybe give you a shot or-”
“I know what happens when you get bit.” Alec said, sounding like he was holding back tears. “I don’t have a chance... and I don’t remember anyone that might miss me if I go... So I don’t have anything to lose.”
Jennifer felt like she was going to throw up. She gazed at the door into the last club room, seeing the clear run between there and the fire escape. She turned back to Alec, who’d stopped moving.
“... I’m sorry.”
“I know.” He said, his voice sounding hollow.
Jennifer turned tail and ran through the club, slamming the doors behind her, practically diving down the fire escape stairs, gritting her teeth and trying to suppress the ugly feeling rising from her stomach. Before she knew it, she was on the street behind the club, sprinting forwards. her eyes darted left to right, scanning the area for the others, but all she could see were ransacked stores and abandoned cars. She began to slow down, getting worried, gripping the bat tightly. Then she saw a small horde advancing on a storefront; she could make out Amar fiddling with the lock, Mary next to him, cradling the twins, and Carla trying to fight off the crowd with a fire extinguisher.
Without a second thought, she took off in the direction of the store, swinging her bat at any zombies that came forth; she could make out some zombies spasming violently, flowers bursting from their skin, vomiting blood as roots dropped out of their mouths, but none of it was registering; she was focused on getting as close to the group as possible. Flashes of women in torn skirts, men with neck wounds, creatures with pale skin and bodies covered in flowers filled her vision as she carved through the thinning cloud, finally making it to the store-
Amar, Mary, and the twins looked on in horror as a zombie sunk it’s teeth into Carla’s jugular, blood running down the front of her suit. She reached out for Jennifer, clawing at the air desperately, until her eyes went glassy and her arm dropped. The zombie munched away at her neck and shoulder while Jennifer looked it up and down; the pyjamas... the bandaged hand...
Oh god, no.
The zombie dropped Carla’s lifeless body, and began advancing on the four cowering survivors.
Please, no.
Jennifer called out, getting the zombie’s attention. It slowly turned around, snarling at her with it’s bloody maw. Both of it’s eyes had burst, roots sprawling out of one socket, and a bright red flower out of the other.
Oh god no no no no no.
Jennifer raised her bat as the zombie approached, clawing at the air and moaning at her, hands trembling, before rushing at the zombie with a roar.
Anything but that.
---
Fiona swiped at the roots wildly, her eyes burning slightly. For each one sliced away by the blade, another replaced it, and her arms were quickly becoming tired. She knew it was hopeless, but she was sticking by what she’d said; she wasn’t going to go down without fighting.
She huffed, her swings growing weaker, until finally, she felt a root wrap around her throat. Shit, she’d hoped she’d last a little longer then that. “J-Jennifer...”
Suddenly, she heard movement off to the left; so did the creature, obviously, as the tendril stopped tightening. She gazed over, gasping for breath.
Gabe was standing up. He had one hand in his pocket, and the other was holding a lighter. His skin was the same tone as before, and his eyes were that same weird grey colour they always were. He wasn’t a zombie.
He was alive. And he looked furious.
HOW? HOW ARE YOU ALIVE?! I SNAPPED YOUR NECK.
Gabe said nothing, advancing towards the man, flicking the lighter and igniting it.
STOP! I’M TELLING YOU, STOP!
Gabe lunged forward, preemptively dodging out of the way of a couple of roots, straddling the roots at the base of the creature, staring directly into the dead mans eyes.
I CANNOT DIE! I AM NOT AFRAID!
“We’ll see about that.”
Gabe dropped the lighter right onto the bed of flowers, jumping backwards just in time to avoid the plume of flame that shot upwards. The figure the tree was sprouting from jittered about as the flame spread from the flowers to the roots, and eventually, to the body itself; it’s mouth hung open, and let out an unearthly, deafly loud screech of pain that made Fiona cover her ears; Gabe didn’t react beyond dusting off his hands, watching the tree crumble and burn; slowly, the flowers around them began to burst into flame as well, a much redder flame that illuminated the room to a blinding extent.
Gabe turned around reaching to help Fiona to her feet, but she backed away slightly, looking up at him with wide eyes. “What the fuck are you?”
“Not entirely human.” Gabe said, matter of factly. “But not entirely monster, either.”
Fiona barely stifled a nervous giggle, clearly still weighing up her options. “Yeah. Definitely get off on being dramatic...”
“You said earlier you trust me enough to get out of this; have you changed your mind?”
She looked lost in thought for a moment, before reaching out and taking his hand, letting her pull him up. “I want answers, when this is over.”
“Oh, please.” Gabe said airily, “Now you’re starting to sound like me.”
As Fiona dusted herself off, Gabe quickly turned back to the creature, the initial fire dying down, but the flowers and roots continued to burn, yet the room didn’t feel that hot. The smell of rot and moss had started to permeate, however.
“Gabe... come on.” Fiona said, tugging his arm.
“... Yeah.” He murmured, following her up the stairs. The entire crypt seemed to have turned red as all the flowers and roots continued to rot away, some falling off and fading into nothing. The cold air only got cooler as the pair reached the entrance of the crypt; the zombies had turned to face the door snarling and growling, but not advancing, merely staring Fiona and Gabe down. Fiona gripped her spade tightly, unwaveringly. Gabe noticed a section of the steel piping on the door looked reasonably weak, and broke it off, rolling it around in his hands.
“Ready?” He asked Fiona, approaching the door.
“No. Absolutely terrified.” Fiona said, holding the spade out in front of her and narrowing her eyes.
“Me too.” Gabe said, before kicking the door open; even as the pair strode out, the zombies didn’t advance, and continued to stare them down. Fiona and Gabe stood back to back, gripping their weapons tightly. As they raised them and let out a battle cry, the zombies sprung forth, arms open.
---
Jennifer stared down at the fallen zombie, letting her bat fall to the floor. The thing that made her feel the most sick, was that it was so easy. She rationalised that she had no choice; that he wasn’t human anymore, that he would’ve killed her or the others if she didn’t do it. But none of that made it any easier. No amount of rationalisation made any of the times she’d had to do this easier. But this was different. This one hurt the most. She was so caught up in the moment, all the emotions fighting for control and leaving her numb, that she ignored the panicked cries of the twins and Amar; she barely registered the hands gripping her arms, her legs, her shoulder. She barely registered the hot breath or the drool seeping through her clothes.
Suddenly, she heard a shriek, and those sensations stopped just as her brain caught up with her. She pulled away with a tiny cry, running over to the others by the store front, turning around.
Almost all the zombies had stopped, gripping their heads in what looked like pain. Those with the flowers growing from their bodies had suddenly caught fire; a redder fire then Jennifer had ever seen. Some zombies had fallen to the floor, shrieking and spasming. All five of them watched on with mouths agape, as the entire horde stopped advancing.
Just as suddenly, gunshots began to ring out. Zombies began to fall over. A large white truck with a logo of six golden wings pulled into view. Soldiers decked in white and gold gear poured out of the truck in neat file; some in gold helmets barked orders, others in white helmets fired their guns, or caved in the heads of the zombies with machetes. One of the soldiers approached the bewildered group, recognising them as survivors.
“It’s alright. Your safe now. We’re here to help.”
---
The pair of them fought valiantly, taking more then a couple down, but before long, Gabe and Fiona had found themselves both grabbed by a pair of zombies who’s heads were almost entirely flower patches in of themselves; Gabe’s arms were binned and zombie was baring down on his neck, and Fiona’s ankles were pinned in place and the zombie was going for the achilles tendon. The tears teasing in Fiona’s eyes for the last hour burst forth as she quietly whimpered to herself, and Gabe gritted his teeth and shut his eyes.
Then, suddenly, the zombies let go. Both Gabe and Fiona looked around in bewilderment as the zombies all began clutching their heads, shrieking loudly, bursting into that red flame.
“Wh-what’s happening?!” Fiona shouted over the noise.
“I don’t know!” Gabe shouted back, running over to her. “But we’re making a break for it, now!”
She nodded, and the pair took off running in the direction of the other exit. They could see the club rising over the horizon. They could see the same thing happening to hordes on the streets; burning, twitching creatures shrieking in unison, dying en masse. They both came to a halt just as they came on to the footpath, gazing around at the chaos. Gabe was the first to see a white truck pull up just a bit further down the street, soldiers pouring out of it. The pair of them watched silently as the soldiers took to the streets, clearing out the zombies with almost uniform precision, almost all of the ones armed with firearms managing to score headshots on any that came into their path. The pair were so taken in by the show, neither of them noticed the soldier that had come up behind them until he placed his hands on their shoulders, making them jump.
“You two are gonna want to come with me.”
---
Most of the roads leading in to Troughton had been blocked off, they’d been told. They’d also been reassured that there were still searches for survivors going on, with multiple teams out sweeping the town, picking off any remaining zombies. Nobody was ready to tell them when, or even if they’d ever be able to go back to their homes, and that they were to stay at the quarantine shelter set up in a hospital the next town over until they were given the all clear. None of them were really sure yet if they would want too. They at least told them who they were; they were a Private Military company that were brought in to deal with exceptional cases like this. They didn’t understand why someone groaned and another chuckled upon hearing this, but put it down to shock.
Amar had forgone a stress blanket, and was side eying the soldier who told him his request for a stiff drink was unwise. The twins were huddled together under a shared blanket, whilst Mary spoke to an interpreter using sign language, explaining what had happened to their family and who she was to them. Jennifer and Fiona were sat next to one another further away, each of them holding a cup of coffee.
“I’m glad you’re ok.” Fiona said, deciding to take initiative and be the instigator. “I didn’t know if you’d got there ok...”
“Me too. I was worried you might’ve...” Jennifer said, staring at her drink.
“Well, I didn’t. So don’t think about that.” Fiona said, placing a reassuring hand on her friend’s thigh. “Did you really save those people?”
Jennifer smiled, sadly. “Yeah, I did. But... there were two others...”
“I’m sorry. I know you did the best you could.”
“I hope so...”
The pause hung in the air for a second, before Fiona puffed out her cheeks. “Wish I got to use a gun...” She said, jokingly.
“It’s not exactly an experience I’m willing to relive, Fi.” Jennifer said sternly, glaring at her friend. “My shoulder is never going to forgive me for the abuse it took today.”
“Still, tho.”
“You’re terrible!”
Jennifer shoved her friend lightly on the arm. Fiona shoved back. This dissolved into a brief shoving match, that eventually dissolved into a short lived, but pleasant laughing fit between the two.
“Seriously, though, you should thank him, when he turns up.” Jennifer said, after the giggling stopped. “He saved us both. He saved you.”
“Yeah, he did. Still...” Fiona said, her brows furrowing. “I dunno what to make of him...”
---
The office was about as claustrophobic as Gabe expected; grey, dull, barely lit by a halogen light, one-way window and all. At least they allowed him to smoke in here. He denied the offer of coffee or tea, but took it upon himself to use the table as a footrest.
“Not a whole lot else I can tell ya.” Gabe said, flicking the last of his ash into the ashtray, and stubbing out his cigarette. “The rest of it’s been me travelling around, entertaining the local wackos, and then... this.”
“I see...” the Sergeant questioning him said, hands crossed over his face. Gabe wasn’t sure if gelled blonde hair or ray bands were standard issue in the Seraph’s, but either way it didn’t look as cool as he thought it did. “I wish we could help you more, but... we have no visual records that match what you described. Whoever it was, he isn’t in our books...”
“Figures...”
“I did say we couldn’t guarantee anything.”
“Maybe, but I still got the booby prize for humouring your inquest, didn’t I?” Gabe said, wrinkling his nose.
“Oh, like a little Trypanophobia ever killed anyone.” The Sergeant smirked, adjusting his glasses. “We had to be sure you weren’t the cause...”
“Fair play, but I dunno why you needed to get that far.” Gabe said, narrowing his eyes. “Maybe they didn’t know, but surely you should have been able to smell me...”
The Sergeant chuckled, pulling his glasses off; his eyes were grey like Gabe’s were, but his where much paler, much more barely defined; his canines were just as pronounced, however. “Yes, but your scent is much weaker, even up close. You’re not full blooded. For all I knew, the other part of you wasn’t human...” The smirk widened. “I am equally surprised you were able to smell me.”
“Hmph.” Gabe scoffed, pulling his feet off the desk, shifting in his seat.
“Now.” The Sergeant said, replacing his glasses, his face returning to a neutral expression. “If there is anything else you need from us, to make up for our lack of information...”
Gabe didn’t need a lot of time to think about it. “A gun.”
---
Gabe strolled down the path running adjacent to the local river, into the woods nearby. He was told the forest path would take him to the next town over, and he’d been given a name and number to contact; something a lot smaller, but that paid just as well. Fuckers could’ve given him the bus fare at least, but shit, he took what he got.
As he walked, he had time to think. Mostly, about the fact that he wasn’t at all prepared for what happened. He was pretty helpless really, for most of it. He had to confront the fact that not only did Zombies exist, but so did weird shit like that thing in the crypt; apparently, the Seraph’s didn’t know what that was about either; they’d never encountered that variant of Zombie before. Oh, yeah, that was a thing, too; different kinds of zombie. The world out there was as limitless as it was big, and he never felt as small as he did today; small, and powerless. He was happy he managed to do good on his promise to keep the girls safe, but he did so largely by luck, and he knew it. He needed to be braver. To be stronger, more skilled, smarter. He had a lot to learn, and it was a bitter pill to swallow.
Then there was the matter of what happened when that thing snapped his neck. When he met that person in the hazy void where time slowed almost to a halt. And the words it said to him.
He had to know.
He was far out enough, he decided, to not cause a disturbance. He pulled the measly 9mm he’d been handed out of his backpack, turning it over in his hands. He checked the chamber as he was shown; a single bullet in it, as promised. There were extra magazines in his bag for future use, of course, but right now, one was all he needed.
He set the bag down few paces away, and leaned up against a nearby tree. He exhaled deeply, putting the gun to his temple. He squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip.
This was gonna suck.
For a split second, every synapse in his brain exploded, a sensation of white hot agony burning through every inch of his body, and then, just as before, nothing. But then, there was everything. The hazy, washed out forest. The person with the long hair and the sharp suit. The excited smirk on their face.
“Welcome back, Gabriel.”
---
~ Decon (10/30/14)
Heaven's Order & Before Heaven belong to Decon Theed