Title: Seven Levels Of Crazy
Summary: Nick was always told that here were seven different levels of crazy and everyone had their own level. Nick Just never expected to run into someone during a zombie apocalypse that ran through all of the levels at a crazy speed.
Warnings: Swearing, blood, gore, slight yaoi, randomness, bad grammar, misspellings, possible spoilers, etc.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Huffing, the gambler narrowed his eyes at the mismatched group of survivors that had nearly run into him all those months ago when he was looting some of the rooms in the Vannah hotel. It was not like the occupants of the rooms were going to mind much; they were too busy trying to eat one another. They had come a far way to making it to freedom from the infection and the flu but the conman was certain that the only reason that they had made it was because they were all crazy. Granted, his mother always told him that everyone was crazy, it was just to what degree they were. And while he was certain that everyone reached a level and then stayed there, it was not until he met his three companions that all of his years of observations were shot to hell.
When he met Ellis, specifically.
Sure, there was not a doubt in his mind that Rochelle and Coach were a bit off; they all had to be in order to survive the zombie apocalypse that had swept through the eastern half of the country. But Ellis? Hell, Overalls took the fucking cake.
Nick had figure out that the three other survivors had to have at least made it to level one in order to survive to the evacuation point on the roof. Nothing seemed too far out there when it came to assessing his new rubes when it came to getting to safety. Sure, the girl of their group was like a mother hen who did not take any back sass and the leader only went by "Coach" even though he was obviously overweight and rambled on and on about food. ...Then again, he was a typical football couch anywhere so the name fit.
The kid, on the other hand...
Well, he progressed to the second level when they first ran into the infected masses on their way through the hotel. Honestly, just by exclaiming that he knew that the movies were correct and that zombies were real sealed his fate. The kid was definitely a level two. The additional running commentary about "mah buddy Keith" and his love for some stock car driver were just the icing on the cake as they made their way through the hot-than-hell shithole that Savannah was.
Nick was hard pressed to keep quiet when the hick commented on how Whitaker was weird when he wanted cola for his guns. It was difficult to keep the "You would know, Ayluss" from slipping out.
The kid then progressed to a level three when they ran into the special infected. Hell, he was not that great with the names of the mutated humans at first, but the kid really saw no problem with calling them whatever he felt like at any given time.
Tonguer.
Smokin' dude.
One arm.
Big arm.
Exploding Guy.
Barfin' fat-ass zombie.
Spittin' nasty thing.
Green guy.
Goo guy.
Nick's mom.
Nick's ex-girlfriend.
Spitter due.
Big neck thing.
Loogie dude.
Jumper.
Hoodie dude.
Pouncing things.
Back humper.
Little guy.
Little thing.
Crying girl.
Big-ass thing.
Bitch.
Hell, there were probably a lot more than he could remember. It also did not help that Overalls was practically a fucking magnet for the special infected, either. Every time they were rushed by a horde the kid was either getting mauled, dragged off by a tongue, pounded into the floor, spat at, thrown up on, torn apart, or pounced on. But it was not all of the names or his innate ability to attract the special infected that put the kid onto the third level; it was the fact that even with his arm dislocated or his body bruised and bleeding that he could still smile brightly at all of them like he was perfectly fine. ...And then ramble on about Keith and a turkey.
Level four was sprinted right past once they made it to the amusement park from hell.
Coach continuously commented on funnel cakes and corn dogs once the hordes of zombies were cleared long enough not to pose an immediate threat. Nick's stomach was grumbling and he was even thinking about candy apples. Rochelle was going along with whatever Ellis said and Overalls, hell, he was having the time of his life.
...Except for the clowns, of course.
It seemed as though the zombies did not even fazed him as he swung what looked like a cricket bat around, bashing in the heads of the infected with glee. The kid was telling tales about fireworks in yet another spun tale about "mah buddy Keith," who he was certain was a figment of his imagination by now; pleading with them all to go on the rides; cracking jokes in the Tunnel of Love, granted, he did mock Ellis about the sign out front; spinning yet another "mah buddy Keith" story, and there was no way the hillbilly's friend could actually be alive; making clicking sounds while running along the damn rollercoaster; "saving" a fucking gnome, and insisting on carrying said ceramic gnome with them; playing arcade games; and singing into the goddamn microphone.
The hillbilly ran right to the fifth level when they were wandering through the swamps; he had picked up a chainsaw with a manic grin and revved the machine, causing a horde to come running out from behind the trees and out of the fog. Like it was not bad enough that the kid attracted specials, he practically went out of his way to summon any of the nearby infected to their location. Nick tried to keep an eye on him; Lord knows that the kid was clumsy as fuck all and could end up sawing off a limb in no time. Instead, he bared witness to the short hick slicing the zombies into pieces, splattering bits of flesh and blood all over them as he screamed "Die, die, my darlings! Die, die, die!" like some sort of psychopath.
The sixth level was quickly met during the goddamn hurricane that they encountered trying to get more gasoline. The going was hard enough dealing with so many witches in one place. ...And then he had to put up with all of Ellis's quips about witches liking sugar, womanly problems, and that he would start crying soon. He did not reach the sixth level of crazy until they were being swarmed in the storm, the sign was flickering because of all of the wind and the zombies that were trying to tear it apart when the kid came up with a "bright idea." That was when he vanished from Nick's side and the conman practically had a heart attack when he heard excited hollering above their heads from the roof.
The next thing he knew, the hick was crashing through the holes in the roof with a goddamn tank. He could hear the coverall-clad Overalls calling out over the screams, growls, and rain that Virgil was waiting at the dock and that they should leave him behind; just take the gas and run. In the past, before the whole, end of the world shit, he would have done just that; hightailed it out of there and left the kid to die by the hands of an over-engorged lunk-head. But times had changed and damn it if that little dork had not have managed to crawl under his skin. Using up the majority of their bullet, Rochelle and Coach had managed to kill the tank while Nick hauled Ellis to his feet and all but dragged him to the boat.
When the blue-eyed simpleton smiled brightly, thanked him, and then gave him what could be the tightest hug of his life, Nick had decided that the kid had skittered firmly onto the sixth level of crazy.
Sighing softly, Nick looked over at the humming hick as Rochelle worked on patching him up. It was just a few minutes ago that the kid had done, what was, by and far, the stupidest thing he had ever witnessed. Sure they were immune, possibly even carriers. That did not make them immortal, though! So, when they had encountered their first riot-controlled zombies, none of them could figure out how to harm the bullet-proof creature with any of the weapons they had. He took his eyes off of the zombie for a moment to look at Coach for any ideas, which was probably rule number one of things not to do in one of Ellis's movies. It was at the brief moment that the gambler felt fingers grabbing at his clothes. Before he could even react, the hick be his side lashed out and pistol-whipped the infected man, shattering his visor and splattering blood across the pavement as the meta cut into the rotting flesh of his face.
The pained shriek that came from the zombie quickly attracted a horde; groups of infected scrambled towards them with outstretched, rotting hands as they snarled and ran out from dark alleys and the nearby foliage. It was predictable that while they were fighting for their lives, a high-pitched shriek sounded before he heard a thud. Screams could be heard from Ellis as blood splattered across the ground before he quickly put three bullets through the hunter's head; the infected's body slumping on top of the hick's while their companions continued to thin the horde of infected that had descended upon them.
Reaching down, Nick hauled Ellis to his feet and practically carried him to the safe house, setting the blonde down on a rickety table while Coach rounded up the materials for Rochelle as she fussed over the country bumpkin like she was his mother. Bright blue eyes looked over and met green as the hillbilly smiled bright at could not help but smile back at Overalls; the kid had actually pistol-whipped a zombie for him.
"Ah ever tell ya 'bout the time mah buddy Keith fell down an open manhole? He was unconscious down there fer like a week. Durin' that time, unbeknownst ta Keith, they paved over him. Keith had to-"
"Ellis, sweetie, can this wait?" Rochelle asked as she pulled out a can of disinfectant.
"Okay."
"Hell, let the kid finish this one," Nick said, watching at the hick's face lit up with childish glee.
Hell, the kid might be seven different levels of crazy, but he would not have it any other way.
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