Disclaimer: Although I own the rights to this story, I do not own BATB or it's characters.
Summary: It's the year of the Apocalypse and no one is safe. Survival means everything. Lives will be taken. Hearts will be broken. Heads will explode...literally. Vincent and Catherine find themselves smack-dab in the middle of New York City, surrounded by the undead. Both will be tested to their limits as they fight to make it out of this Hell-on-Earth experience together. But as they spend more time together, they discover that they may have found love in one of the most hopeless of places.
Warning: The content you are about to read is not meant for the light hearted. This fic has been Rated M for Mature audiences ONLY due to high levels of gore, F-bombs/language, explicit sexual content, violence & crazed zombies. If you are sensitive to anything mentioned above, this story is NOT for you.
A/N: First of all, thank you soooooo effin much, Heather, for helping me with this project! I am forever in your debt lmao! Anyways, I know that a lot of people are probably asking why I am doing this fanfic... It's simple, I love anything VinCat and I love Zombies! LOL! I'm sorry if you do not like this story, but I do ask that people keep their comments/reviews clean and respectful. Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed it, because I LOVED writing this one, and for the ones who read Ryders, be expecting a new chapter soon for it. Depending on how my week goes, will determine how much quicker I can get these chapters uploaded. Thanks to everyone who read this! REVIEWS MAKE ME SMILE! Xoxoxoxo!
PROLOGUE—January 2016
Vincent
It has been one hell of a winter, which, makes it difficult when you live a life out on the road like I do. Being a trucker isn't easy, but the pay is good and I've always loved to travel. It's my home.
A couple hours ago, I dropped off a load of freezer foods back in Hazleton, Pennsylvania, stopped by the Pilot station to drop off my trailer, and am currently entering the outskirts of Rochester, New York. I'm nearly back to the place that I call my home outside of home—the suburbs—to a little quaint two-story brick house where my sister and her husband of three years, Benny, reside together. Now, Alex may not be my sister by blood, but even with her being adopted when my parents no longer could conceive after me, I still love and adore her as if she and I share the same blood.
Anyways, it's been ages since I've seen her and I miss her. Since our parents died in a horrific house fire a week before my return to the states during my last and final tour in Afghanistan, Alex is all that I've got now. We've only ever had each other; between having a lawyer for a father, and a traveling business woman for a mother—even though we had a nanny every single day—Alex and I grew pretty damn close growing up together. Even when she got married to Benny, nothing changed... much. It may not have been every day as before, but we did stay in contact any chance we got.
Pushing my foot into the clutch, I downshift my gears, smoothly coming to a complete halt when I'm stopped by a red light. I've still got about twenty more minutes before I'm finally back home. But if my growling stomach is of any indication, I'm fucking famished.
My knee bounces in a natural force of habit. Finally when the light changes, I guide my truck into the closest fast food lot... which turns out this one sells tacos. Great. Taco Bell isn't really my thing, but with how harsh my stomach rumbles, it'll work for now. The only other place open this late is a Thai restaurant that I passed by about ten minutes ago.
Meh, fuck it... taco night it is.
Parking along the side of the parking lot, taking up four parking spots. I shut down the engine before climbing down out of my truck and close the door, making my way towards the tiny restaurant door. The door bell chimes as I enter, causing a few heads to turn in my direction. Some are looking at me like I'm a crazy person, and a few of the girls—which look no older than their teens—are looking at me like I'm a melting fucking popsicle waiting to be licked. No thanks, ladies. This guy right here would rather pork a Lot Lizard than a piece of Jail Bait.
Pfft! I'm not that stupid. And orange isn't my color.
After giving my order, I stand off to the side and wait for my food, which consists of six soft taco supreme's and a large Mountain Dew. What? A guy's gotta eat, you know. So sue me!
Right when my order number is called, my phone rings at the same time. Seeing that it's Alex, I mentally tell her that she can wait while I juggle two plastic bags and a large soda in my hands as I make my way back to the rig. By the time I'm seated and rolling down the windows for air while I eat, I've got two missed calls by my baby sister. Something isn't right.
Stuffing a greasy soft taco into my mouth, I toss the bag of the rest of my food into the opposite side of the truck as I turn the key in the ignition whilst calling Alex back.
She doesn't answer.
So I try again.
Again, no answer.
That's when I see that I have a voice mail.
"Vincent...." Her voice has a trembling catch to it as if she's been crying. Pulling out onto the main street, I slam the clutch, shifting gears as I hammer down. It's not an easy task to do when driving a rig, but it is possible and a helluva lot easier to do when your trailer isn't attached. Thank God I got rid of the trailer before heading this way.
Alex's voice brings me back to the message playing in my ear. She sniffs, and a mewling sob breaks through my phone speaker. I shift gears and speed up. "Things at the hospital got pretty bad today during my shift." Alex has been working at New York General as one of many ER Nurses for the last three years. And trust me when I say that this isn't the first time my sister has called me crying after leaving work, although, she has never sounded so distraught and upset after like she does now.
"There is... there was. One of my patients... he came in with some kind of flesh wound or something. Had a huge hunk of meat missing from between his shoulder and his neck..."
Oh, Jesus... That's it? That's why she's upset?
"I know what you're thinking. I shouldn't be worried about it because God knows I've seen worse things come through the ER. But this, Vincent... my god. It was horrific."
A couple sobs, sniffles, and sighs later, and she continues. "Anyways, my patient went into code blue within five minutes of arrival. But that's not what upset me most... It was strange, Vinnie. I've never seen anything like this happen before. He'd been dead all of a minute, and then... and then..."
She begins crying hysterically, so it's hard to make out the last of the message. But the one sentence that forces the color to drain from my face and the tiny hairs on the back of my neck to stand up was when she said "He raised back up and attacked me."
Catherine
"So, dinner?" Evan Marks, New York's most famous forensic pathologist and my fellow co-worker at the 125th Precinct.
"As friends, or..." I trail off, leaving the question open with a big fat smile on my face. Evan should know by now that what we have together will never go past being friends. But, that doesn't mean he stops asking. Just about every Friday, he finds some excuse to ask. But I end up declining him every time.
He smiles, and it's one of those devious Cheshire Cat smiles. "You know me too well. Maybe one day I'll have convinced you to go out on a real date with me."
Rolling my eyes, I close the file I had been working on and walked it up to the Captain's desk. Evan is obviously on my heels. "Don't you have a body to work on?"
"Well, that depends on whether or not you agree to dinner tonight." he smiles.
Fucking pervert.
Deciding not to respond, I make my way back to my desk to grab my keys and purse and make my way towards the exit. And, yup, you guessed it. Evan is following closely behind.
"Oh, come on, Cat. It's just one date. Not like I'm asking you to marry me."
I sigh. Evan is really not a bad guy. And it helps that he's really hot, you know, with those baby blues and blonde shaggy hair to go along with that sweet, velvety British accent of his. And yes, he has a pretty nice body; athletically built and flawless fare skin. But relationships just aren't my thing. Kind of goes with the territory of getting your heart shattered every single time you put yourself out there.
"I've already got plans with Heather tonight." I sigh, coming to a halt when I realize that I had forgotten my phone in my desk. Or is it in my desk? Shit.
"So that's not a no, but not a yes?" Evan asks expectantly. He's being a little extra pushy today, and it makes me wonder why.
Dropping down into my desk chair, I pinch the bridge of my nose as I respond. "It's a no, Evan. You know I value our friendship. I care deeply for you in a brotherly way. And I don't want to risk what we have for something that will never be." Hands falling to my lap with a clap, I soften my eyes as I gaze at him. See? Relationships are too damn complicated.
With a nod and deep swallow, he forces a smile. "I understand."
"Good." I smile back. "Now, I may need your help one last time before calling it a night. I've lost my phone and Cap is going to shit a brick that we've stayed so late as it is."
"Alright, yeah." he murmurs with pinched brows. "Did you take it with you when you went to Cap's office? Maybe you left it there."
"Thanks. I'll go look."
Evan turns to head back to his lab, but I feel the need to say something to confirm that our friendship is unharmed. "Evan?"
"Yes?"
"We're okay right?"
He pauses, finally facing me with a sad smile. "Of course, darling. Who else would be my partner in crime if it weren't you?"
Turning around, I head back up to the Cap's office as Evan heads in the opposite direction towards his lab. I'm not even four feet through the door when I hear a bloodcurdling scream followed by a loud crash. Without another thought of my phone, I pull out my Glock 22 and sprint in the direction of Evan's lab.
"Evan?" my voice is shaky, yet firm and direct, carrying off the walls of the hall. Calling out again, I slow my steps, briefly checking into each room that I pass. The silence right in this moment, knowing that I'm not alone is completely unnerving. I don't know what I'm about to confront and I'm not sure that I want to know what lies ahead of me either. But regardless of what I think and how I feel, my body continues the journey into the unknown.
As I near the lab, I can specifically make out the lyrics to a soft rock ballad softly echoing through the hall. But no other sound reaches my ears. Pushing slowly on the door handle with one hand, I lift my gun up in a ready stance, cocking it before pushing open the door.
"Evan? Are you alright?"
What I see next will forever haunt me in dreams to come...
….and maybe even in my mental visions as well.
As if in slow motion, my gun slips from hand, falling, falling, falling with a thud to the floor. All of the blood has drained from my body and my knees buckle until I'm practically kneeling to the scene in front of me.
I know only two things in this moment...
One, Evan's case is indeed alive and well.
And two, Evan just became this undead mans next meal.
Chapter One—Down With The Sickness
"It seems all that was good has died. And is decaying in me..."
—Disturbed, Down with the Sickness
Vincent
(3 Months Later)
A storm is on the horizon, moving in quickly as my men and I prepare for our next mission. Seems like they get harder and harder to do with each city we hit. And trust me, killing never gets any easier.
Oh, wait allow me to explain myself. I'm probably confusing you.
Three months ago, after being forced to kill my sister when she turned into one of those... things... and tried to kill me, I was drafted back in with the US Army by what is left of our government under specific orders to go out on a Special Ops Mission. Our mission...? To find and destroy any and all evidence of the world's largest terrorist attacks in History. Whether it be those who are already dead, terrorizing what's left of humanity here on Earth...
…...or the ones that are still alive.
Yes, I said alive.
Now, don't judge me. I know how bad this all sounds...
Believe me, It's not like I want to kill an innocent person. I've never taken a life outside of war. But there is nothing that I can do about it because once the government gives orders, we must follow them. Else, we face the consequences.
I'm one of three hundred soldiers, split into twenty different teams spread out across America. And God only knows how many more are over seas. My team, though, had been stationed to stay in New York City.
Talk about one helluva mess.
Jesus...
And men thought going to war was hectic.
Man, you ain't seen nothing yet.
"We're ready when you are, Captain." Patrick, the team's Private First Class pulls me out of my thoughts. Looking up, my eyes latch onto the mission board filled with photos of all the Military Compound escapees.
One specific face housing the most beautiful, majestic green eyes catches my attention. But it's not like it matters anyways. She's as good as dead...
Whether it's the undead taking her as their next meal, or by me and my team taking her out for being a risk to the community.
Picking up my M-16 Automatic, I wrap the strap of my gun over my shoulder, shoving the heavy weapon to dangle off my back as I walk past him. I don't openly speak my thoughts out to him, but I know he can read my mind. None of us will ever be ready for these missions...
No one is ever ready for a fucking Apocalypse.
Tossing my gun into the Humvee, I hop in and guide it towards the Compound's exit where I pause long enough for the guards to open the thick metal gates. Four of my men—Patrick, Zach, Axel, and Tyler—are riding with me and the rest of the team are lining up behind me.
When I pull out into the streets of New York City, now classified the Streets of Hell, it's those emerald eyes that consume my thoughts as I drive through the belly of the city.
Catherine
The day that I left the Precinct, was a whirlwind of events. Not only did I witness Evan's horrific death, but I had been forced into a van by a small group of soldiers that promised me protection and shelter from the sudden outbreak.
On a plus side, I found my cell phone laying on a sterile metal table inside of Evan's lab, and before we lost the use of any technology, I called my sister to make sure she knew what was going on and to figure out where she would be.
But the military personnel refused to give me permission to seek Heather out from the Hell that had been purposely shoved down America's throats. Instead, they assured me that they would find her and bring her back to me.
I should have known that they were lying to get me to go with them.
No, what I should have done was escape from them then. I should have gotten away when I had the fucking chance. But I was distraught. Upset. Confused. And angry. I didn't know what to do in that moment. All I could see and hear were these soldiers saving my baby sister.
So I went with them.
I waited for them to return with my sister...
And I waited...
….and waited.
But they never brought her back. And the monsters that promised her the same protection as me filled my head with lies and excuses of why she was never found.
They told me she wasn't where she was supposed to be, that she must be dead or turned.
But I couldn't believe that.
I don't.
Which is why for almost three months I resided within the Compound walls, I watched and examined the guards, waiting for the perfect moment to escape. Who worked this shift? Who worked that one? How long they left their post for bathroom breaks. Which ones passed out on the job?
I even studied every single wall to see which would be the best one to target as my escape. Got a little friendly with the guards, talking about as much about the Compound as they were willing or allowed to talk about.
My plan seemed simple. Wait for the guards to change shifts, climb the South wall, which was always least likely to be guarded at night. But first, I needed a weapon if I was going to survive what lied outside of the walls.
Gage, one of the most ignorant amongst the guards had left his post to take a leak behind one of the buildings and stupidly left behind his trusty weapon of choice: a combat edition Mossberg 590 pump-action shotgun with the 20-inch barrel.
After confiscating the gun, I made my move; climbing the South wall—of course, getting scratched up and bruised along the way.
I never thought it would be so liberating to be on the outside where the deadliest of things went bump in the night. But it was. And I was finally free of the military's watchful eyes. I was going to find my sister.
She wasn't dead.
I could feel it in my bones.
My search started at the mall, searching high and low in every department store with Heather nowhere to be found. The next place to search was the New York General Hospital. If she was hurt, I know that's where she would go, but to no avail. She wasn't there either. Just a hospital full of dead corpses. Perhaps the military already cleared it out before my arrival. I finally hot wired a car and drove out to her apartment. The place was ransacked, and I noticed clothes were missing, food, and the little 38 I bought her for last Christmas.
She was there at one point. So I know she's alive.
I'm closing in on her, I just need to remember...
And then it hits me where she might be. The closest secure building near her apartment would be the Westside Market on 7th.
Bolting like a strike of lightening out of the door, I take off for the car, shooting any walking corpses that gets in my way and burning rubber to head towards the grocery store.
Vincent
As we approach 7th street, it's eerily quiet.
"Damn." I hear Zach mumble from under his breath as he observes the streets.
Damn, indeed.
Normally this section of the city is overrun by corpses, but the streets are completely empty. Seeing as this isn't our first rodeo in these parts, that fact alone brings me on high alert, and I scan the area as I slowly exit my vehicle.
Zach grabs a duffel bag which contains extra handguns and ammunition, bringing it over to the sidewalk. Soon after, Private Victoria Windsor and her carload of troops arrive and meet us where we're setting up. I take the brief moment I get as my team gathers around to scan the area again. Still no corpses.
Now this makes the little hairs on the back of my neck stand in attention. Deep down, I know that this is the calm before the storm. Something is about to happen. I can just feel it. But despite my thoughts and fears, I continue to spout off commands to my team about splitting up and meeting back here before sundown.
As we begin walking down the block, we turn a corner and then...
Eyes wide, it's as if the next scene goes in slow motion. Axel and Tori are the first to fall victim to the walking corpses. Tori is down on the ground, her screams piercing the sky like a siren of emergency whilst being mauled and ripped apart before my very eyes. I look to Axel to see that he's pinned against a brick wall by a group of the undead, feasting upon his flesh.
I pull my gun and begin unloading my clip on the corpses closest to me. The first one I shoot is within arms reach, and the force of the bullet between his eyes splatters my face with his brain matter. As if time speeds and slows again, another corpse is coming at me. Just like the first, I blow his fucking brains out, as more screams and cries come from my team.
There are like a hundred of these things, maybe even thousands. We're outnumbered. We'll lose if we continue fighting this if we don't retreat now.
"Fall back! Abort mission!" I try to shout my orders to anyone that can still hear me, and without another thought, I run back in the direction where we parked our Humvee's. Right now I need to find shelter until the remnants of this shitstorm die down enough to come back out here. I trust that those who survived this deadly ambush will do the same thing.
With what's left of my clip, I turn and shoot over my shoulder at as many undead as possible and make a run for a nearby grocery store. Hopefully I can get inside, otherwise I'm seriously fucked.
Pushing the door open on the first try, I run inside, closing the door back and leaning my forehead on the door, out of breath when I hear the distinct sound of a shotgun being cocked right behind my head.
"Don't move, asshole, or I'll blow your fucking brains out."
…..Until next time, Beasties ;)