Title: do not go gently
Summary: We would have gone to DC the minute we heard the word, "zombie", because we're Mystery Inc. And, really what would you have us do? End of the world, zombie apocalypse fic.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.
Author's Note: This is probably my first and only foray into the Scooby-Doo world. This was inspired by a picture I found online. Kinda strange, but I guess that's what happens... Pardon any grammar mistakes, please and thank you.
I. Nightmares
Fred, it seemed, had taken to jumping at shadows. He was awake every night, unable to sleep, sitting sentinel in the long stretching front seat of the van. I'd commented on the strange occurrence to Velma, who had, in her usual Velma-like fashion reminded me that none of us slept very well anymore.
II. Sleep
"You just need to get some rest," I called softly to Fred from my outstretched position in the back of the van. "You'd never stand a chance against anything if it came at you in the condition you're in right now." I pitched my voice as quiet as I could, making sure not to wake up any of the other three of our companions. Velma, Shaggy and Scooby lay curled around each other tightly, which in itself was a rare. None of us got much sleep anymore- Velma was right, actually. The three of them should be allowed to enjoy it while they could.
III. Eyes
The look that Fred turned on me, from his spot in the front of the seat, was the same one he had given me every time he looked at me for the last couple of weeks. His eyes were red-rimmed and dark. Shadows and other echoes of his night terrors swam and swirled in them. They were moist, like he had been crying, but that was another thing we had all been doing a lot of lately. We had, in all honesty, though, more than enough reason to cry. We'd all lost so much during these last couple of years.
IV. Infection
I remember the first news report we saw, three years ago. I remember the way the five of us just stared at the television in that little backwater diner in the middle of Nowheresville. We would have gone to DC the minute we heard the word, "zombie", because we're Mystery Inc. And, really what would you have us do. But, then they continued on with the story, and about how they knew that it was an infection. And we looked at each other, and knew that we had to get as far away from the capital as possible.
V. Sick
Velma's parents called her first. I'll never forget the look on her face when she told us that Madelyn and Chloe had gotten sick. Sick, sick. Infected, sick. She'd rushed from the van, and, following her, I'd held her hair back as she was relieved the contents of her stomach in the bushes. And the mere thought of what was happening… made me want to be sick right beside her.
VI. Dog
Shaggy was next. Maggie called him three weeks after Chloe and Madelyn, and told him, in a halting voice, that Mom and Pops had "had to be put down." I remember the look on his face when he made the sickening connection between the way his sister phrased it, and Scooby, staring at him pitifully. He had rushed from the van, leaving even Scooby behind. When he'd returned, his eyes were bloodshot, but he was relaxed as far as I could tell.
It didn't take a genius to figure out what he had been doing.
VII. Plague
Shaggy's was the last call we received. After that, we were completely in the dark. We drove to the other side of the country- as far away as we could. Things like property rights, and theft stopped mattering somewhere in the vicinity of California. Houses were boarded up, and… well I'm ashamed to say that I became quite an accomplished lock-pick. The "Infection" which everyone was calling it- even though Velma laughed every time she heard it and called it an overused cliché- had reached California. Dead, burned bodies lay buried in mass graves of ashes and limbs in almost every town. People believed that the only way to get rid of the virus was to destroy the bodies… though, now that DC was gone, we had no idea if that was working.
We avoided towns like those like the plague.
VIII. Close
I remember, thinking back, the first time we came in contact with one of the so called "zombies." It was in Mexico, I think. A house we had broken into was overrun while we were eating. I was totally terrified. At least twenty zombies entered in from the windows and doors, swarming around Fred, Shaggy, Scooby and I. We had been in the kitchen, eating some food we had found left-over in the fridge. It hadn't been fresh, but… in times like those… well, food was food. Velma had been in the bathroom, washing up. I remember hearing her scream.
Fred had found a long, serrated knife in a drawer, and between him and Shaggy, who had a poker for the fire, had killed the zombies as they came at us.
We'd rushed to the bathroom, to find Velma standing in the shower, the shower curtain in tatters underneath her, a pile of burning zombie flesh in front of her, looking terrified. She'd kept the best humor she could, as she looked at us, match book and candles in her hand. "J-jinkies…" she'd whispered. "Apparently fire does k-kill them."
IX. Fall
We were somewhere south, I remember, the next time we had a close call. We had broken into this person's home somewhere in the Caribbean, and we were sitting on the roof eating enchiladas that Shaggy had made us as a treat with some stuff we found in the kitchen, when we heard the tell-tale signs of groaning coming from the ground.
I remember Shaggy scrambling to the edge of the roof to look down and see how many there were, Scooby right behind him. Fred, Velma and I stood in the middle of the roof, Fred's arms wrapped securely around her and me.
The next thing I remember was a sickening crack and Shaggy was tumbling over the side of the roof, Scooby right along side him. The three of us rushed over to the side as well, unthinking in our haste. Peering down, we saw Scooby holding desperately onto the gutter, with Shaggy, pulling on his tail. "Jeez, Scoob," he called weakly from below, feet dangling just out of reach of the zombie hoards. "Thanks for catching me, bud."
X. Driving
We kept driving. Always driving. We knew it would catch up with us eventually, but…we'd been lucky so far. We'd always been lucky, the five of us. Some, gracious god looked out for us. Still did, it seemed, considering we were all still together. And here we were now, somewhere in the north of Brazil from what the roadmaps were telling us… three years into an infection that seemed to be wiping out the majority of the world.
Sleep had become restless- full of nightmares.
Awake had become exhausting- constantly looking over our shoulders- just in case.
I kept as happy as I could. I had my friends, after all: Shaggy, Scooby and Velma. And I had the love of my life- but, don't tell him I said that. It wasn't Paradise, but I could live with it.
XI. Comfort.
Fred patted the seat next to him, and as stealthily as I could, I slipped up and over the backrest and next to him. He wrapped his arm around me, and it scared me to think of how thin his once muscular arm had become. I stared out the window in front of me. "Its almost dawn, isn't it, Fred?" I asked him softly, again, careful not to wake the other three up. "Can we watch the sunrise?" I knew neither of us was going to get much more sleep tonight.
"Sure," he replied, and his voice was choked, and significantly louder than mine.
"Shh," I hissed, indicating the others with a wave of my arm. "You don't want to wake them up!"
His eyes were sad as he looked at me. Sadder, even, then before. "Right, Daph."
XII. Delusions
I didn't know how to tell her. I really didn't. I knew it was her mind, building up the strongest fortress from reality that it could. She'd been doing it ever since Mexico.
Ever since we'd found Velma's bloody body in the shower.
She'd talk to them like they were real- interact with them; even though I knew they weren't really responding. Velma, Shaggy, Scooby… they were just figments of her imagination. As far as she was concerned Scooby had saved Shaggy, instead of tumbling over the side of the roof right alongside his best friend.
I couldn't tell her that we'd watched them devour the man and his dog right before our eyes. How did you tell someone that you loved that much that everyone she cared about was dead? You couldn't!
I glanced at the back of the van, piled with blankets that Daphne set up every night, as if she was making beds for the other three. Empty. Not a single living soul.
She looked back with me, and smiled at a sight I couldn't see. "Don't worry, Velma," she said too a ghost that didn't exist. "…Yes, I promise to make him get some sleep."
Daphne faced me. "She says to make you get some sleep, Fred. You should really shut your eyes for a bit."
I swallowed. "If that's what Velma thinks…"
XIII. Out
I glanced at the steering wheel in front of me, and saw the gas gage: marked Empty. We were out of everything.
Fuel.
Ammo.
…Hope.
I tightened my grip on the .45 next to me. I had heard something just outside. I tightened my grip on Daphne's shoulders- her thin, thin shoulders. I pressed a kiss to the side of her head. This is it, I thought. Our luck's run out.
I tilted her chin up to face me, and her green eyes smoldered with confusion. "What's the matter?" she asked me, her head tilting to the side.
I ignored her inquiry, instead choosing to press my lips to hers, kissing her gently.
A kiss of a man on his way to the gallows.
It was like this, that I heard the doors rip off of the van.
It was like this, I felt Daphne begin to cry.
And then…
That was it.
END.