"Shit, a clicker!"
"Fuck, fuck, fuck-!"
"Follow me!"
Gunshots echoed and surrounded the neighborhood, ear shattering pops and bangs that when we were just young tikes rattled our bones and made us flinch in fear. Our steps slammed and tapped against the pavement as we ran from the monsters following us.
Their gross clicks, squeals of incoherent animalistic emotions, deep groans, and screeches of pure violent intent stayed on our heels. Not once did they waver. Not once did they stumble or stop their horrific noises. For us though, it was different.
Brandy stopped and turned heel to shoot at one stumbling it's way a bit too close. Wheezing and gasping, he used the distraction to snag his inhaler and take a couple puffs while trying to motion me and the boys to go on. Of course no one did.
Rodge jerked to a stop, quickly whipping out two guns and shooting them off with a growl. "Come at me you undead son of bitch!" One clicker made a scream of.. something, before falling to the ground and lying dead. Or more dead. Or not so dead but finally moved on.
...It stopped moving, that's the point.
Little Rick, the youngest of us all at around twelve years old, looked at me in fear. I stepped in front of him and pulled out a shiv, ready to defend with my life. Now, a shiv isn't a great weapon. I don't suggest it at all when you're battling clickers unless you're sneaking around and don't want to get caught by another one of these insane fuckers. That or you really, really, don't want to wake a kid because you just got them to go back to sleep after they just had a nightmare. The only reason that I gripped one in my grip with all my life at this moment instead of a gun is because my last one broke at the reload. I don't know the technical name, but it's where you put all the new bullets. Anyway, the bitch got jammed and since it couldn't shoot anymore, I dropped it and ran.
"I want you to stay behind me Rick, stay behind me!" I yelled to the young one near my feet. He flinched and scurried around me to do as told.
Attracted to my yelling, one of the monsters made a choked yell and sprinted over. I growled and tensed while Ricky whimpered from behind. The clicker snarled and shoved it's gross, fungus infected, head near me trying to take a bite.
Honest to God, those growling clicks gave me nightmares. They scared the living hell out of me every single day of my life and no matter what I do, I know I can't escape it. Maybe that's what made it easier to fight them. I held it back with an arm at it's collarbone, ignoring the fowl stench of death, despair, rotting of flesh and fungi and stabbed the thing in it's caking and cracked dead skin.
The sound of it choking and gurgling on it's only blood and bacteria was the only music of our time.
"Is everyone safe?!" Brandon yelled, his short and choppy brown hair waving around as he looked around for all of us frantically, searching for wounds encase we ourselves were in too much pain to answer. Light green eyes darted to us all wildly and he started to breath a bit heavy again when he didn't see Ricky as fast as he would have liked. Seriously, we all love the guy and the amount of care that he has is amazing and rare but really, the guy is going to giving himself a heart attack one day because he couldn't find one of us because we left to go take a dump.
"Yeah, yeah, we're all good.." Rodge grumbled, slapping his gun with a pout.
Ricky made a noise of agreement, peaking out from behind me to look at Brandon. Brandy breathed a huge sigh of relief and relaxed. "Okay.. okay, that's good. We're all good," He looked around and a frown started to work it's way on his lips. "We need to keep moving. This place isn't safe."
"Yeah, no shit." I said, glancing at the other numerous motionless clicker bodies around us. "Someone else was definitely here."
Rodge looked away from his gun to the bodies on the ground and clicked his tongue in disapproval.
"Well.." Brandy rubbed the back of his head and looked around for somewhere to go. "We'll just hav'ta.. wing it," His lazy and slur-ish Floridan accent bleed through as he spot something off to the left of me and Rick. "Y'know?" He shrugged and started a casual (or as casual as someone in this time could be) walk to the house at the end of the road.
"Hey Denny?" Ricky asked, pulling on my pant leg and staring at the house doubtfully. "Do you think anything's in there?"
I sighed and ruffled his dirty blonde locks. "I have no idea Ricky-Rick. We need to keep positive though, yeah?"
Ricky looked up at me through his hair and nodded a bit. I spared the kid a small smile and followed Brandy to the house. Ricky scoffed and adjusted his backpack as soon as he saw Brandon jiggling the wooden boards on the front door. "The fuck are you doing? Look around, that house is on a hill, at the end of a large and wide neighborhood." He stopped next to Brandy and grabbed his shoulder to stop his attempts. "Anyone with half a mind would've left out the back Bran. This has farm house written all over."
Brandy made a small 'oh' noise of realization and nodded at Rodge's observation. "Wow, Roddy! I didn't expect you to pay attention to anything non-violence relate-"
"That and I saw the dead guy and military tank over there." Rodge said, cutting Brandy off and pointing to the side where a burnt corpse and the ashes of wood lay on top (or on the guy's case, on the side) of the tank.
Brandon's mouth clicked shut and Ricky giggled. "'Wow, Roddy~'" I teased, stepping around the now pouting 31 year old. I pulled a hammer off of my tool belt and started to pull at the nails. Casual conversation started behind me, small and nice things to keep everyone light and relaxed after such a frightening attack. I knew that all of it was for Ricky's sake, the poor kid will get stress diseases long before he's bitten, but it still made me feel wistful and happy. Of course Rodge would jump in now and then with a low tone, something that meant business, asking about inventory and asking Ricky about his hand or Brandy about his leg.
Now that one, was a funny story. See, Rodge taught Ricky how to shoot a gun. It was the kid's only protection in this world with us hurt or gone so as soon as Rick got steady hands and didn't have those nervous shakes anymore, Rodge handed him a gun and said, 'aim for the beer can across the street'.
It took a while for Ricky to get the hang of things, even longer to actually get good at it but it was worth it. Ricky was shooting off the gun and killing off minor monsters like it was a game of tag with a toddler. There was this one time though that we got attacked and got a bit too over whelmed.
Rodge was stuck on the roof of our obviously temporarily safe heaven, shooting down and trying to help us, I was fighting off some undead on the other side of the house to clear an exit, and Brandy was holding ground against two clickers and a runner. Ricky, being the only one really open since Rodge was swearing his head off and helping me, started blasted at Brandy's attackers.
Since it involved clickers there was a lot of running and since there was a runner, there was a lot of dodging as well. Because this was Brandy and because fuck that was a lot of running, his asthma jumped into play around after 18 minutes of playing tag and stab. Ricky shot down a clicker and after using a well placed stab Brandy hit on the other, got the other too. The runner though got Brandy.
They started a tumble and wrestling match on the floor and Brandy threw it off and tried to crawl away. The runner grabbed his foot and made a sick open mouthed noise and pulled Brandy back so his ankle was right in front of it's bleeding and slobbering mouth. Wheezing and hacking up a lung, Brandy kicked back and smashed some of it's teeth in while Ricky, now this is the funny part, took aim and fired off three shots. Two hit the runner in the head and killed the thing and the third landed right in Brandy's leg. It was the funniest thing I've seen, Brandy lying on the ground wheezing and cursing, coughing a bunch of gibberish and stupid things. It was great.
The only reason little Ricky-Rick didn't have the gun was because the last time we had a run in with a human. The fucker was bat shit insane and kidnapped Ricky. Held the scared boy ransom for some basic tools and supplies and every time we fought, he broke another one of Rick's fingers. Somehow, they didn't notice Rodge sneaking up behind them with a bear bottle. That is, until he smashed it against the crate next to him and stabbed the guy to death. He really noticed Rodge then.
I pulled the last nail out and yanked the board off. Wiping the sweat off my brow with the forearm holding the hammer and tossing the board in with the other two, I turned back to the guys. "What do we do once we go in? Look around or straight to the back?"
Rodge blinked and looked around while Brandy scratched his head and bit his lip. "Why the fuck would we look around?" Rodge asked confused. "If there was people around and this many clicks and runs with it, there's no way crispy over there was the only human. Tank or no tank."
Brandy made a noise of agreement and I nodded. Ricky muttered a soft 'straight to the back it is..' while we stepped into the thresh hold. After a quick scout Brandy made to make sure we weren't leaving anything of interest behind (only some loose painkillers and schizophrenia medication that was carefully stashed into my inner coat pocket with the rest) we all went to the back and cilmbed the fence.
"Wow.." I heard Ricky breath while I gripped the fence top and yanked myself up.
"Nice ain't it?" Rodge asked the awed boy and when I looked up, I saw why he was so amazed.
In this world, in what has become of it, things are haywire. Chaos, insanity, and monsters ravaged the land and moments of peace were so unheard of that they were labeled as a myth but the calm and precious peace the sunrise brought was absolutely breathtaking.
It was surprising how even in the darkest hours, the world could make something so beautiful.
"We should keep going." Brandy said looking at the hills and roads of grass in front of us. "This'll take a while."
"Yeah, true. C'mon, Denny! Let's go!"
"I'm comin' Rodge, I'm comin'..."
Didn't mean that you were safe in these moments though. It was always just best to take a mental pic and move on so you can do it again in the future without health problems if you know what I mean.
xXx
"Ugh, fuck! We've been walking too long and we're out of fucking blades!" Rodge growled and glared at the bladeless backpack in his hands before zipping it closed and throwing it back over his shoulder. "Brand, we're stopping somewhere no matter what the fuck your bitch ass says. Pick a place or I pick for you and lock you the fuck out for being a clueless dick."
Ricky hid a smile at the crude language directed at Bandy and Bandy smiled sheepishly, scratching his head again. "Well, it is getting late.." He looked around until he saw an apartment and brightened up like he just saw a candy store with actual, literal, non-infected, candy. "There!"
He ran forward and we all followed. Me holding little Ricky's hand and Rodge easily keeping a reasonable pace slightly behind Rick and I but not at all far from any of us. Whenever I wasn't in the back taking care of my little brother, Rodge was there like a lion, standing proud and looking at any threat like it was below him and full of pure idiocy for attacking us. When we all caught up with the excited man, bouncing at the bottom of the stairs, he was slightly out of breath and Rodge was looking at him like he was an annoying kid that he was babysitting. "Are you done now?"
Brandy grinned, "I'm sorry! I just can't help it!" And he wasn't lying. Brandy told us that when he was a kid, the best memories he had was in an apartment building. The outbreak happened when he was young so every moment that he spent in a world where the people weren't choking on fungus was hazed and washed away with the growing of his age so the only memories he does have is his over positive family toughing it all together in an apartment building with a few other tenets before they all started to drain out or turn. Soon Brandon was forced to run with one of his moms while the other stayed back to fight the now insane and cannibalistic people that they shared living spaces with. Despite the ugly turn that it took, Brandy always had a close love for apartment buildings and made sure that he shared it every time we came across one.
Noticing Ricky start to breath steadier as we walked the stairs I picked his small form up and started to carry him. "Lil' guy's dead on his feet.." I explained softly when Rodge gave a suspicious and tense look back to us as Ricky cuddled into my frame and loosely held on before deeming himself comfortable enough to start to nod off. Rodger nodded and tailed back again to protect. He might act like a hardass but hell, he loves this little guy just as much as I do and I know for sure that if one of us was in a pinch, Rodge would be there to help us out then laugh at us for being so stupid.
Brandy stopped at his favorite number, 27, and pushed the door open. We waited for a moment for him to check the lock to see if it worked, that was always a bonus we looked for, and I felt a small smile tug at the corner of my lips when Brandy looked back and gave a thumbs up and motioned us that it was okay to go inside quietly after seeing Ricky out like a light in my arms.
Rodger stood stiffly while Brandy moved into the front hall, watching me and Ricky. I stepped in and followed Brandy while he did a search of the place while Rodge kept the door open wide and out of the way so I could run out if there was a clicker or anything. Kids and young ones were hard to come by these days and we almost lost Ricky three times. We'd do anything now to keep him safe.
I stood in the hall when Brandy did a room search, rustling around and searching for growing infections on the walls and in the corners while Rodger picked at dirt under his nails boredly. "All clear!" Brandy yelled, exiting one of the rooms and going straight for the kitchen to check for food. Rodger made a happy noise and closed the door and locked it with a look of satisfaction.
Me on the other hand, I went to the room to my left to set down my baby brother to rest properly. When I got inside there was already a sleeping bag laid out and a table with some scattered papers. "I'mma need to thank Brandy.." I muttered and gently placed little Ricky into the sleeping bag.
Ricky turned onto his side and mumbled something in his sleep, grabbing the edge of the sleeping bag tightly. I puffed out a small chuckle and gave his head a small pet. "G'night, Ricky-boy. I love ya' little rascal..."
I got up and walked my way over to the door to leave but cursed when I kicked something as I pasted the table. I froze and looked back at Ricky worriedly but luckily (or unluckily, what if we were attacked?) the twelve year old just shifted and snored. Sighing in relief and looking down, I saw a small, colorful toy of a robot.
Picking it up with shaking fingers, I gasped and carefully shifted the arms and legs of the thing. Toys were so rare, so lucky and hard to come across. The damn things were always either broken, dangerous looking, or you have no room to keep them whatsoever. "Hey... Hey, Ricky-Rick, you won't believe what I just-!" I turned around excitedly with the colorful toy clenched tightly in my fist only to stop when I saw Rick sleeping. Completely forgot about that. "Sorry.." I whispered and tip-toed to the door, closing it behind me with a soft and gentle click.
Voices from the kitchen flowed gently into the hallway and I followed them eager for food and eager to show the guys what I found. I wonder if they ever saw a toy. Or if they played with one before. Maybe Rodge's was a toy gun and Brandy's was a girl doll. That seemed like them, guns and fabric dresses for plastic girls.
When I walked in Brandy and Rodger were in a heated debate. Something about whether a pony was a horse or not or something. I plopped down on the sleeping bag near the small box and food set Brandy found lying around and waited for food and a pause in the debate with a grin.
"Oh well look at that," Rodger said, looking me up and down and getting Brandon's attention. "The kid's got a bright look, Brand. Maybe he finally spiked our food."
Brandy looked up from his small pot and flame and blinked at my happy look. "What's got ya' all grinny kiddo?" He asked gaining a smile of his own.
My grin melted into a smirk and I pulled out the toy, tossing it on Rodge's sleeping bag and waiting for the praise.
"Holy fuck.."
"Jesus Christ! Is that..?"
"Optimus Prime!" Rodger gushed and snatched up the toy. He pulled and played with it's limbs with childish excitement while Brandy watched in awe. I didn't know who this Optimus Prime guy was but I must have scored huge if Rodger was this excited. I felt the pride swell in my chest and giddiness grip on tight to me. This toy was perfect for Ricky and by the happy looks on the guys' face's, it was perfect for us too. "Where'd ya' get this kid?"
Rodge and Brandy looked back over to me and I shrugged. "Found it on the floor in lil' Rick's room. Lucky, huh?" Brandy nodded rapidly while Rodger scoffed.
"Lucky? That's more then fucking luck, some god was grinning on you when you found this." Rodge went back to messing with the toy and Brandy back to cooking. Conversation stayed comfortable with shifting topics like how much food was left, the weapons we had and the ones we needed, injury and pain count to stories that we read or that had happened to us when one of the other's wasn't around. When we started eating, we were in a circle laughing and joking around, talking about girls, when Ricky would be in that age, how Rodge no doubt had a gun kink, and other bullshit like that.
The darkness draped around us sometime when we were getting ready for bed, casting shadows and making some eye lids drop sleepily. "Bedtime~.." Brandy mumbled drowsily and laid out his sleeping bag.
Rodge rolled his eyes and threw his backpack down as a makeshift pillow. "Yeah. Sweet fucking dreams princess."
I smiled and held back a laugh when Brandy whined that he was a big strong man, not a princess and Rodge continued grunting and humming sarcastically.
This is why he was still here. This is why he hasn't offed himself off yet. These guys and the preteen sleeping in the next room. These guys right here are his family now and he would gladly die for each and every one of them and no matter how hard and fucked up things get for them all, as long as they stay together, stay as crazy and positive as ever, they'll be fine. I stared at the toy slightly hidden by my bag for a moment then closed my eyes for a good night's sleep.
Yeah.
Everything'll be fine.