Nick could have sworn he had seen a ghost. It hadn't even been ten minutes since meeting the other three people before he had realized that something was not right. Sure, Rochelle and Coach were fine. A bit too mundane and boring for his taste, but overall, tolerable. But, he hadn't even learned the younger boy's name before he felt that little twinge in the back of his head. It was like a quiet voice, constantly trying to remind him of something.
Ellis. Nope. Didn't ring a bell. At least, not in the forefront of his brain. Perhaps he was too preoccupied with the fact that the only way out of this god-damn city had just flown away without him. But, regardless, it didn't raise any red flags. Besides, the kid didn't seem to recognize him either. So, maybe it was just one of those deja vu moments... But really, Nick decided he probably just needed a cold, hard drink.
Surprisingly, they managed to get through the Hotel they had been stranded on and almost immediately found one of those strange barricaded rooms. Ellis referred to it as a safe room. It seemed like an appropriate term, until Nick had stepped inside. Raising an eyebrow, he wondered if people had actually lived in here. It looked filthy, not to mention people had written on the walls like cavemen. With an expression of obvious distaste, he sank down into one of the battered chairs, crossing his legs. "Well, I've definitely lived in better. And believe me, I've had some shady digs..." He mumbled to himself,
"Aw, it 'aint too bad, Nick. At least their 'aint no zombies!" Ellis decided to chip in, with a grin that Nick figured he would see a lot. So far, aside from seeming eerily familiar, Ellis appeared to be the kind of guy that everyone liked. Well, everyone except guys like Nick. They were two different extremes on the male spectrum. Like oil and water. However, Ellis didn't seem to think so.
"Mm," was all Nick bothered to reply with, leaning back in the seat with a muffled groan. God, he was getting old. Although, he refused to admit it. He preferred to call it gracefully aging. It suited his persona.
He could hear Coach and Rochelle fussing over each other, trying to figure out the medi-pac's they had managed to swipe. He assumed they would need a lot of those in the next few... days? Weeks? Months? He shuddered to think he might have to spend more than two weeks with this group. They simply weren't a normal entourage for the con-man. But, again, he had another name he preferred for that. Good with words. It suited him better.
Before he had ended up in this mess, he had been on the way to seal a nice little deal with a few connections of his. All he had to do was show up with the information he had been handed and he would make a few thousand dollars. It was petty cash to him now. Under the table jobs, scams and thievery were the bread and butter of his metaphorical job feast. If he thought about it, the last legitimate, government-approved job he had would've been serving burgers at McDonalds.
He had just begun to drift off into sleep when he felt someone sit down beside him, a knee brushing against his own. Raising an eyebrow, his eyes opened, fixing on that grin he had predicted he would be seeing a lot.
"Can I help you?" He questioned, expression utterly unimpressed. All he wanted was sleep and yet this Southerner thought it was a better idea to stay up and tell ghost stories or whatever the hell he was planning.
"Nawh. I was just thinkin', you know," the dirty-blonde began, stupid grin shifting into an even stupider smirk. "You seem mighty familiar, there, Nick. I dunno where from, but it's like I've seen y'all before. I can't tell though..."
Straightening up, Nick frowned, surprised that the other male seemed to feel the same amount of recognition. But Nick was certain he had never met him before. He would've remembered such an idiot and made it a point to avoid him. "You say you know me from somewhere?" He repeated the question, giving the Southerner a quick one-over, just for good measure.
"Yeah, that's what I said, Suit. 'Ya don't mind if I call 'ya Suit, do 'ya? I think it suits you... Ha, geddit? Suits 'ya," Ellis amused himself with his own joke, slapping his knee. Oh, goodie. Just when he thought the kid couldn't get anymore stereotypical.
"I'm certain I've never met you, Overalls." Nick's lips turned upwards at the slightly witty comeback. He didn't slap his knee, however. He would leave that to the hick.
"Al'righ," the other male replied, holding up his hands in a gesture of defeat. Thankfully, he settled back against the wall in his own chair and closed his eyes as well. Faintly, as he was beginning to fall asleep, Nick wondered if he could handle another day listening to the kid's Southern drawl.
"Hey, Suit. Y'all better wake up, now. We're thinkin' of movin' out..." Unfortunately, Nick did not wake up where he wanted to. He was not in his own comfortable apartment, sleeping in his king sized bed, situated in his lone-wolf type bachelor pad. No. He had slid halfway off this god-dammed chair, arm hanging down so far that his fingers were brushing against the dusty floor. Definitely not a good start to the morning.
Not to mention, his stomach automatically reminded him that he hadn't eaten in at least two days. Nor had he found a drink. God, he could really go for a gin and tonic. Or perhaps some aged wine. But what he wanted more than anything was a cigarette. Oh, how he longed for the taste of nicotine coursing through his veins. And the sound hovering above him was not helping him in any way, shape or form.
"Ellis, if you don't shut up, I will personally grab a baseball bat and shove it up your-"
"Would you two hurry up? It's already light out. We should get moving!" Rochelle interrupted him, just before he could get his threat out. Ellis didn't seem fazed at all, apparently, for all he did was grin down at Nick before joining the other two, looking like a kid at a day camp.
With a groan, Nick peeled himself out of the chair, wincing when a few of his muscles protested and bones shifted back into place. Well, if anything, he would be improving his fitness level in the next stag e of his life. It seemed all they could do was run. Run and shoot.
"Did we find any food?" He questioned with a grumpy scowl directed towards the other three. He had no reason to take it out on them, other than the fact that they were the only other living things in his path of annoyance. "I either need some coffee or a god-dammed cigarette..." Although he trailed off, Coach seemed to hear him and replied while he was busy strapping supplies to his back.
"There's a grocery store across the road there, Nick. You can grab whatever you want. Although, I get the feeling you're used to doing that anyway..." The older man gave him an amused smirk before he turned away, helping Rochelle with her newest gun.
Nick glared at the back of Coach's head, wondering if he happened to stare long enough, if the man would burst into flames. He gave up after a few moments, wondering when he'd had such a childish thought. Ellis' ways must have rubbed off on him. As soon as he had finished strapping his own weapons back on, he moved past the three, opening the door. The sun had risen about an hour ago, casting a slightly eerie glow over the streets. Thank God he couldn't see any infected. On a normal day, it would've been too early for him to make coffee. Killing zombies seemed like a bit too much work.
Leading the way, he didn't bother to check around. In fact, he felt no need to. The streets were completely zombie free and he couldn't hear anything. Normally, it would've bothered him. But the gnawing hunger in his stomach bothered him more.
"Hey, Suit, look at all these cars, man. It's like they were jus' drivin' to work 'an stopped the car, cause they turned into a damn zombie!" Ellis exclaimed, lagging behind the group as he marveled about the abandoned cars scattered around.
"Mm," Nick replied, afraid that if he said more, he might end up using a colorful vocabulary that neither Rochelle or Coach would appreciate. It seemed they had taken to 'babying' Ellis simply because he was the youngest. Nick, on the other hand, had already decided that was the last thing he was about to do. Even if Ellis had been an eight year old, he would've treated him the same as any adult. It's not a field trip, it's an apocalypse. Nick wasn't going to hold his hand as they crossed the zombie infected street.
"That's nice, sweetie," Rochelle added, obviously taking it upon herself to keep the spirits high. Nick only rolled his eyes as he smashed the glass in the door in front of him, reaching through to open it. Absently he heard Coach mumble about being a dramatic asshole but he disregarded it, too thrilled by the sight of cigarettes before him. He jumped up onto the counter and slid over, silently thanking whatever God existed.
He grabbed a decent handful and distributed them among his person, taking advantage of the many pockets his suit had. To go along with them, he grabbed a lighter and wandered towards the liquor section, figuring if he had to fight a horde, he might as well do it with a buzz. As he was choosing between whiskey or vodka, a set of footsteps alerted him that he was not alone.
"Overalls," he greeted, not needing to glance over to confirm it was Ellis. The kid walked like a teenager – slightly lazy with a shuffle in his feet. It drove Nick crazy. But what about the kid didn't?
"Suit," Ellis replied, putting quite the emphasis on the 't.' "I didn't peg you as an alcoholic."
"I'm not. But I might be, after spending enough time with you three." He paused to examine a pricey bottle of wine. Setting it back, he decided that a shot of vodka would be a decent substitution for coffee. Turning to glance at Ellis, he raised an eyebrow, as if questioning why he was still standing there. "You want some?"
Even though it was obviously a rhetorical question, Ellis shook his head. "I don't drink very often. It 'aint too good when I do. I remember this one time, my buddy Keith dragged me to one 'a those night clubs... Whoo-ee, that was a blur. This time it was me that Keith was worried about. He didn't know where I went, 'an he went lookin' for me. All I remember is-"
"Ellis?" Nick interrupted him, glancing up from opening the bottle to stare. "I don't care."
For a moment, Ellis seemed a bit crestfallen, but soon he was grinning again. "Okay. I was just gonna' say all I remembered was the smell of cigarettes. Usually I don' like them, but it was alrigh' when I was mighty drunk."
Nick was no longer listening really, taking a quick sip of the vodka in his hand. "Mhm," he replied, just to shut the kid up. Thankfully this time he didn't follow when Nick wandered off to find food.
It had only been about five minutes, but Nick had already eaten an apple and a piece of bread with some lunch meat. Although he felt like he could eat more, he knew he would only end up hurting himself if he ate too much at once.
"You guys ready? We should probably start moving," he announced as he joined the three at one of the tills. Rochelle was busy putting batteries in a flashlight, while Coach was on what seemed to be his third chocolate bar. Ellis, however, was downing a coke. It seemed he had found some sort of chicken meal and a microwave.
"Yeah," Rochelle agreed, clipping the flashlight to her side as she hopped off from sitting on the till. "I've been seeing signs that suggest we should be heading to the mall. Apparently CEDA is there..." She shrugged, as if they couldn't blame her if she were wrong.
"It's a better plan than I've got," Nick agreed, grabbing a water bottle as he passed.
And with that, they were on the move again. The moment they stepped outside the store, it was apparent the zombies had migrated. Nick assumed they could smell the difference between their own kind and the survivors. It wasn't by any means a horde, but there were a few dazed infected wandering around.
It only got worse as they advanced into the city, diligently following the signs that lead to the mall. It was going smoothly, for the most part. Although, Ellis had managed to get caught by a smoker twice in the course of half an hour. Why they always picked him, Nick would never know.
Fortunately, it was all the same as yesterday. A few scratches and bruises, but for the most part, they had learned to function as a team. They moved in silence, save for the few moments that Ellis decided he had to get some words in and began to talk about some friend of his. Despite not listening, what Nick picked out seemed to suggest that Ellis liked to exaggerate his stories. But by the time they had found the newest room, thanks to the spray painted signs, even Ellis had lost the energy to tell stories.
The only sound that echoed in the room was the loud metal bar closing over the door. Both Rochelle and Coach retreated to their own corners, tending to their own bruises and cuts. Nick leaned against the wall, pulling out one of his cigarettes. Thankfully the room was large enough to circulate the smoke.
As he inhaled, he found his gaze wandering to Ellis. The kid was currently sitting on the floor, his cap resting beside him. Frowning for a moment, Nick began to study him closer. Without that ridiculous hat on, the feeling of recognition returned, hitting the con-man full force. For some reason, his brain had begun to recall memories. They were still hazy, but from what he recalled...
No. It couldn't be. The world wasn't that small. And after all, it had been a once in a lifetime, thing. Something he had done after a deal had gone down and he had been about to head home.
It was late, but he had finished early. So, he called home, to tell Stella he would be home earlier than he had expected. Although he still had to drive from Garden City, he would make it by ten the next morning.
But of course, Stella had decided to act like the bitch she was and began harping on him for being a failure of a husband. He had listened to it for a few minutes until he hung up, turned his phone off and pulled a U-turn. There was no way he was going back to that.
Instead, he booked himself into a hotel and stared out the window. Conveniently enough, there happened to be a nice little club in his view. Glancing towards the clock, he had decided he might as well take advantage of the temporary freedom he had given himself.
When he arrived in the club, he had realized that it wasn't quite like the clubs in New York. It had a different vibe, almost. But he didn't mind. It wasn't like he had been looking for anything in particular. It was simply that anything other than his bitch wife was better in his eyes.
After a few shots, he found himself on the dance floor. He blamed in on the Southern air. He hadn't ever really been a person who liked to dance. Even if it was to pick up chicks. Which, he was far from. In fact, the waist his hands were resting on was far from feminine. The muscles under his fingers were strong, yet lean. In the poor lighting, he could see the lightly sun-kissed skin that wasn't covered by a simple band tee.
At first, he hadn't noticed it was a boy. But after a few seconds, he did, when there was a lack of curves in the right places. However, to his own surprise, Nick didn't pull away. He continued dancing with the other male. Their bodies were pressed against each other after a few minutes, heat generating between their clothes. Soon, Nick had lowered his lips to the others ear and suggested they leave. Although it was obvious they were both drunk past healthy limits, they managed to walk themselves out of the club. They didn't make it very far before Nick had grown impatient.
He pushed the stranger against the wall, his lips soon mimicking the action as they kissed. It was exhilarating, he had decided. With women, he felt he had to be careful. Gentle.
But with the dirty-blonde in his arms, he felt like he could let out his frustration. Soon followed hair-pulling and lip-biting, hands tugging on clothes and almost animalistic growls from the both of them. Yet, Nick managed to keep his dominance. It was obvious Nick was older and far more experienced, for the simplest bite to the younger boy's neck caused a small moan to be produced.
Eventually, they made it to Nick's room. How, seemed to be a miracle, considering they hadn't bothered to separate until Nick had to swipe that little plastic card in the machine by the door. He had to try a few times, to which the boyish looking male beside him found amusing.
He wasn't laughing long once Nick finally unlocked the door, grabbing him by the shirt and connecting their lips once more. In fact, he was doing anything but laughing. Panting, sure. Groaning, of course. Gasping, when Nick had backed him up into the bed, causing him to fall. Nick followed, straddling his waist with an intense stare. In the light, he could make out the handsome features that belonged to the one below him...
The memory was forced out of Nick's brain with a start, his cigarette already burnt to the end. Letting it drop to the floor, he pulled his gaze away from Ellis for a moment, running a hand over his face in disbelief. Letting out a slow, even exhale, he glanced back to the Southern boy. Indeed, there was no mistaking those eyes.
"Well, dammit..." Nick swore under his breath, which caught the attention of the last person he wanted to notice him right now.
"What'cha swearin' 'bout, Suit?" Ellis asked curiously, glancing up from loading his gun with an almost knowing smile.
It took a moment before Nick closed his eyes and shook his head, replying with what he hoped sounded like a normal amount of sarcasm. "Oh, nothing, Overalls. You want the rest of this vodka? I don't think I'll be drinking again for awhile..."