Don't stop running. Never stop. Running. Don't stop. Never stopping. Running.
Run.
"Keep going, we're almost there I can see it!"
Don't stop running. Never stop. Running. Don't stop. Never stopping. Running.
Run.
Run.
For your life.
With a swift intake of air, Dick swung his foot up and booted the door open from the handle. The force sent the old wooden door flying inwards but thankfully, it didn't come off it's hinges. With the momentum from kicking the door in, Dick veered his hand up. Clutched in his dirty, sweaty palm was his most trusted weapon; his assault riffle. His free hand joined the other and gripped the gun as well and within a matter of seconds, Dick was shooting down the four zombies in the room.
Wally moved in after Dick had cleared this room. In his right hand was a delicious molotov cocktail that he had created himself earlier that day and in his left, his favourite machete.
Both were used to the sound of blood spatter now. It was like the birds singing in the morning; natural to their ears. Wally cleared the kitchen and the dining room that connected to it. He managed to get all but one zombie.
Panic. Wally's heart danced in his chest as he dashed back to the zombie with his machete in it's head and he yanked it out. But not in time.
Gun shot. 9mm Pistol. Dick's 9mm Pistol. Dick's 9mm ammunition that just scored him another headshot.
"Shit- thanks man" Wally let out a sigh of relief and soon after a groan of frustration. "So that makes it what? 87 to you, 82 to me?" he asked as he wiped the corner of his mouth on his grease stained sleeve. "Fuck" he kicked at the zombie's head that was beneath him. Dick shoved him lightly, to which Wally laughed at.
"87 to me, 80 to you. Your last head shots didn't even count. Dude, we discussed this." he laughed and returned the pistol to his hip after reloading. "See if there's anything in here we can use" he said and gestured to the room. "I'll check the kitchen" he called out, waving to him to pointing back to the room which hopefully had usable stuff they could loot.
"Yeah, yeah.." Wally nodded as he kneeled down, opening cupboard after cupboard. He came across a hand written letter in a draw and skimmed over it. The redhead shifted his backpack off and unzipped it. He folded the letter in half and then held it between his teeth. From his bag, Wally took out an A5 sized, brown tattered scrapbook with the word 'Hope' scribbled in black marker on the front and opened it up to a new page. He tucked the letter inside and closed the book afterward, placing it back into his bag again.
In the kitchen, Dick let out a not so manly squeal of excitement as he opened a draw and found many different blade based weapons. Shanks, switchblade's and a half-made hatchet.
"Dude! Get in here!"
Wally's heart jumped into his mouth and on reflexes alone he picked up his machete and rushed into the kitchen, ready to strike. When he saw it was nothing to worry about it and that Dick was acting like a five year old with a new toy, he rolled his eyes and put the weapon on the table. "What'cha got there?"
"Look at all this!" he grinned and took the whole draw out, bringing it over to the table. He really was like a child on Christmas morning.
"Niiiiice find. I had no such luck in there" Wally sighed and rummaged through the weapons in the draw. His misfortunate mood quickly disappeared when he caught sight of a beauty "I call the switchblade- oh wait!- I call both switchblades. Dude, we are pretty lucky to find this" he quickly picked them out of the pile and placed them next to his machete.
Wally pulled up a chair and plopped down in it. If he could, he'd prop his feet up - maybe even kick off his shoes. But there was no time. No time for real relaxing.
"Dude, keep looking through this. I'll keep searching" Dick said and pushed the draw over to Wally who rubbed his hands together, happily getting stuck in his new task.
Dick yawned, covering his mouth with his hand as he did so. It was funny - despite what the world had become, Dick still remembered his manners. Dick hummed the theme song to one of their old favourite TV shows 'Hello Megan!' as he opened the cupboards. He found a couple of tins of beans and some canned fruit too.
"Dinner and dessert" Dick chuckled and tossed both to Wally, who had turned immediately at the mention of 'dessert'. "You're right, this is lucky. What the hell are we doing to deserve this?"
It was dusk now, the sun was beginning to set over the horizon. The sky was different shades of pinks until it faded to the blue/black of the universe. One had to ask, did the infection spread across the galaxy? Did another planet invade us unknowingly and give us this disease? Or was it God? Was God unhappy with his creations? Was God playing a game? Was he angry? Was the universe angry?
With the bodies burning a couple of miles from the house they were staying at, Dick and Wally felt safe enough to stay the night and rest, build up on supplies and check their ammunition.
Their stomachs were filled with the beans and fruit, which were actually really good for a change. Wally was sitting in the armchair, slouching back comfortably with his open backpack leaning against the side. He was looking through his 'Hope' book again, reminding himself of all the people that had aided them on their journey to survival one way or another.
Dick was sitting in the middle of the carpet, legs crossed underneath himself. "You know, I've been thinking" Dick started. Wally gave a small grunt in response before Dick continued speaking "I know why we're so lucky."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. It's because of that Hope book of yours." Dick gestured to it "You keep saving those letters, notes and photo's and whatnot. I think the people who wrote that stuff, they'd be happy to know at least someone read it. And who knows dude, we could meet the people the notes are intended for. You could bring families back together. I swear it's like a weird form of karma. You're doing something good, so we're getting it back in return."
Wally smiled warmly as Dick spoke. He eyes dashed up from the pages to the boy in the middle of the room and he chuckled at him. "Maybe someday" he said and went back to reading. "Wait, this is my book. So where's your so-called good karma coming from?" he grinned.
"Well- well. I'm your best friend and that means that I get half your karma so.. yeah. Yeah"
Wally outright laughed at him which then caused Dick to burst into a fit of laughter too.
The next day they were all backed up and ready to move out. Everything was great, considering what the world was like. The boys, these boys that were forced into early manhood, had set out exactly four hours ago.
The two of them were walking on a highway, wheeving their way through the abandoned cars. Dick was on the opposite side of the road to Wally and was checking each window. "Y'know, even though I can drive I think I prefer walking- DUDE! LOOK OUT!"
Wally let out the most ear splitting scream as a walker took a chunk out of his forearm. Dick slid over the top of the car and yanked his pistol from it's holder. Three shaky shots to the head and the fucker was down.
"D-dude! C'mon! We gotta- dude- fuck!" Dick couldn't feel anything right now he was numb and his volume was getting louder. Wally was in pain, that's all Dick registered. He picked his best friend up off his knees and dragged him over to a clearer section of the road. Those gunshots hadn't helped at all. Stupid, stupid move. They were running out of time. "Lets go back to that house, we'll take one of these cars" he said, his voice shaking with fear.
Dick sprinted to the nearest truck and thanked the Lord that it had the keys inside. Wally got up on his own and ran to the passenger side door. He clambered in and held his bleeding arm in his lap.
It was over. Surely Dick knew that. Why was he doing this?
Dick put the car in gear and rammed his foot down on the pedal.
When they were back at the house, Dick sat Wally back down in the armchair he was sitting in before. He hadn't even thought to check the house was clear until Wally reminded him. Dick nodded and rushed around the house before returning to Wally's side. "I-t's all clear" he swallowed hard and then looked at Wally's arm. He got out his med kit as quick as he could and started treating the wound.
Wally looked a him blankly and then smiled sadly. "Stop it."
"No"
"Dude - it's useless. Stop-"
"No!" Dick screamed at him, tears rolling down his red cheeks. Wally hated seeing him like that. But what he was doing, it was stupid, unnecessary and a waste of supplies. Wally couldn't let him waste what little they had. He took the contents from him and dropped it on the floor. Dick went to grab it off him but Wally took a hold of his wrist before he could.
"Dick-Dick! Stop! You know what happens now! Snap out of whatever this is!" Wally hated yelling at him even more. Especially when he had this look on his face. Wally didn't let go of his wrist, even when he calmed down.
"Okay" Dick murmured quietly and closed his eyes briefly before looking away. "Alright" he yanked his hand out of Wally's grip and stood up.
Alright. Now Dick officially had nothing to live for. He looked out the window and he could see the highway they were on in the distance. In frustration, Dick let loose on the wall and punched it, cursing loudly.
Wally watched him, flinching slightly when he heard the bones in Dick's hand crack. Dick brought that same hand up to his face and covered his eyes so Wally wouldn't see him crying anymore.
Wally shifted in the chair, suddenly everything felt uncomfortable.
As the next twenty minutes passed, Wally's had showed no further signs. But the older boy could feel himself heating up - not that he'd tell Dick that.
Dick finally worked up the courage to do what he'd been thinking about. He unzipped his bag, this sudden sound in the silent room caught Wally's attention. Dick pulled out a small knife he'd looted from the kitchen and twisted it in his hand. Wally stood up and staggered over to him. "Dude..?"
On the count of three, Dick carved the knife blade into his forearm. He made himself an open wound then dropped the bloody knife on the floor.
"Dude! What the hell!" Wally grabbed both of Dick's wrists and shook him a little too violently. "What are thinking!".
Dick knew exactly what he was thinking. He broke free of one hand and placed his hand over Wally's bite wound, covering his palm and partially his fingers in the gross contaminated liquid-y puss that was seeping out of it. Wally snatched his arm back and then gripped the arm Dick had just touched him with.
"What the fuck Dick!" Now Wally was furious. "Who in the hell gave you the right to infect yourself! You think I want that?! This isn't funny! Are you even thinking right now?!"
Dick simply made no comment.
"Fucking answer me, you asshole! Dick! I'm not having your death on my conscious!-"
"What conscious Wally!? After this, you won't have a conscious! So what does it matter!?"
"It matters right now! I'm still here! I'm still me and I'm saying no!" Wally couldn't let Dick's arm go no matter what. There was probably bruising there now. And what Wally hadn't noticed were the tears streaming down his own cheeks.
They stood in silent, panting lightly and glaring at each other. Dick was the first to speak up. "I thought we had something special" he began and Wally was about to interrupt but Dick spoke again, "I thought what this is, what we've got- dude I decided already; wherever you go, I go. That includes death. And it includes this too. No matter what I am always going to be with you." he said and heaved in a quick breathe. "Okay? So let go. Let me do this with you. Please"
Wally could never really say no Dick. He was still pissed at him, but he let him go hesitantly. He couldn't watch Dick do this to himself so he turned around. Dick rubbed the mess on his hand onto his wound and hissed as he made sure it all got in there. Fuck, it stung a lot.
He wiped the remains on his pants and then swallowed and looked at Wally.
"So I was also thinking, we should put all our stuff in the kitchen. You know, for anyone else who might come across here. Maybe.. I don't know, maybe you could leave them a note with your Hope book?"
"Dear those read this,
Our names were Wally (short for Wallace) and Dick (short for Richard) and we've been on this journey since the beginning - just like you.
I, Wally, started this scrapbook called Hope. I collected all the letters and notes I found on our journey and put them in this book so maybe one day I'd find someone and give them their hope back.
So, just like I did with the previous notes - I want you to put this one in the book too. And I want you to carry Hope with you on the rest of your journey. And if yours falls short just like ours did, then leave it for the next them a letter, tell them to pass it on. Hope is still here.
Wally ;D
Dick :)
PS. Take our supplies and backpacks. We reloaded for you!
PPS. If you see two zombies handcuffed together at the wrists, that's us. Please do the honours!"
Wally nailed their note to kitchen table and they both left their backpacks next to it. They smiled at each other and then Dick handcuffed them with the pair he'd found when they stumbled across an abandoned police station a year back.
The two walked back down the road they came from, back towards the highway. Dick chuckled, his free hand in his pocket. "Some Karma, huh?"
When the turned, Wally went first. Dick turned a couple of minutes later.