Hi everyone! I recently developed an obsession with the zombie apocalypse, so I decided I'd get it out of my system with a story! Please read and let me know what you think! Also, I'm not sure if this is too dark for a T rating, so please let me know if you think it should be M. XD!
(I'm not sure if any of the readers here remember, but this is a repost of a story I started writing a long time ago. I wasn't sure where I wanted to go with it at the time, and I wanted to change the style of writing to one I'm more familiar with nowadays. I've reposted it and I intend to keep going with it- so I hope you enjoy!)
Disclaimer: I do not own Gakuen Alice or any associated characters and settings
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Chapter one: The rules of war
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She crept through the streets, crouching low. Her eyes were darting constantly, taking in everything. Hiding places, shadows, noises. She was watching for the slightest sign of movement; behind the overturned car on the curb; in the shadow of the derelict department store across the road.
Clutched tightly in her hand was a gun. One finger curled around the trigger lightly, ready to pull at a minutes notice. She caught sight of a road sign; 5 miles to MDJ Asylum for the Criminally Insane.
Good, she was nearly there. With a quick, wary glance around, one tanned hand slipped a tattered jacket sleeve up to check the watch beneath.
A sharp intake of breath, it was 6:00pm. The green digits glowed dully against a black background, telling her she was cutting it too close. She cursed lowly and chanced another look around, scanning the area. It was empty, but the tall buildings around her and a setting sun were creating advancing shadows. They would be out within the hour.
She had to move quickly.
The duffel bag she was carrying made a muffled thud as it hit the ground. She kept it close by her feet though, only intending to leave it for a moment. Quick, clever hands fiddled with zippers and ties until an over-large jacket slipped off her shoulders with ease; she left it to hang around her waist.
She shook her arms out and delighted in the sudden coolness dancing along her skin. Her white, fitted singlet still felt too hot and sticky in the summer heat, and it was damp with swear, but discomfort is something she had gotten use too. Her short, choppy hair tickled her neck, but was too short to stick to her neck.
She tightened the laces on her boots without looking down.
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Rule number 1#, never lower your guard.
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Swinging her duffel bag over her shoulder with one smooth movement, she flicked the safety catch on the gun off and cocked it, holding tightly with her right hand. No playing it safe now. She started off at a steady jog. Her boots made a light crunching on the asphalt road.
She winced; every noise was a beacon marking her location. That was something she could not afford.
She picked up her speed and ducked low, eyes still flickering around warily. She watched the growing shadows anxiously, her muscles tensing with adrenaline and a sense of danger. She slowed to a walk when she reached the curb, continuously glancing over her shoulder.
The sun shone in her eyes blindingly when she rounded the corner. She squinted, blinking rapidly to adjust her sight. One hand came up to shield her eyes tiredly. She blinked at the sight arrayed before her. It twisted her mouth into a grimace and narrowed her eyes almost angrily. Hiroshima had been beautiful city, really. It should have been a great place to grow up. She smiled bitterly, because she couldn't even remember what it had looked like before.
She shifts and stares downwards. She's standing at the top of a hill; the road travels down into a place that was more like an empty shell than a city.
It was still the same place, but it had fallen into disrepair. Litter, empty cars, broken signs and shattered windows lined the streets. The city seemed to be all one colour, a dull, weather-beaten grey. All that debris wasn't the problem though, it was the silence. It was the eerie emptiness, like the calm before a storm. It entered her very bones and settled in her chest until she was so afraid she could choke. But she was use to fear, and she knew what it could do if left untended.
She took the hand from over her eyes and started walking down the hill. She narrowed her gaze and watched only street level. The city could rot for all she cared; there were more important things at stake tonight.
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Rule number 2#, things are different now, remember it.
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MDJ was never somewhere a regular person wanted go, for obvious reasons. It had always looked a bit like a prison, but the ridiculous attempts to do it up as though it was a nice place to live used to make her sick. People, even bad people, deserved better than that. At least nowadays, the outside matched the inside, she thought, somewhat bitterly. The crumbling bricks and out of control weeds on the walls made her want to laugh. But the funniest thing was the still undamaged, iron-wrought gates that blocked the entrance.
Engraved onto the decorative plaque was all this stuff about honorary founders and sponsers of construction. It seemed even more shallow and silly than it had been before. Sometimes it made her want to giggle, but not out of joy. They'd wanted to leave a legacy behind, and now they had; just a little bit earlier than expected, she would imagine.
She threw her duffel bag over the gate with great heave. It made a sound between a clang and a clunk when it landed. She prepared to vault over in pursuit, but paused to give the plaque on the gate a mock salute. She didn't say anything. Words don't matter much anymore. Not when you're alone and there's nothing to accompany the sound of your voice in the silence. She always sounded far more insignificant than she'd like to think she was.
The bars were rusty and rough beneath her hands, and the gate creaked when she clambered up and over the top. With the bag back over her shoulder, she headed up the large drive to the building. It was ugly and square, with no rounded edges or soft colours. Spending time in this miserable hole sure as hell didn't cure any of her insanity. She let a chuckle escape her; more to see what would happen, than out of actual amusement. It sounded weird and too loud in the silence. A dead silence. She stopped.
Not even the birds like to talk anymore.
If there are any left in the city, that is.
The driveway was thankfully cement, and did not crunch beneath her feet like the street outside the gates. She ignored the double front doors and steps to creep along the side wall. The secondary entrance was a series of roll up doors on the west wall of the building. They were the carports for the padded cells-on-wheels. The big horrible trucks with amazing suspension in the tires and no windows, used to transport people so crazy they couldn't function in society at all. Her fists clenched; a reflex. In another life, she would have got the shivers from this place. As it was, it made her want look away.
She sighed and walked to the door at the far end. The pre-cut roll of metal made a scratchy sound against the ground that gave her a twitchy feeling in her hands when she pushed it forward.
Her mouth turned upwards a bit and she flicked the edge of the tiny gap made lightly. It had obviously been made by her. Hotaru would barely fit through there anymore. And in fact, neither would she if they weren't both too thin. She slipped the bag through first and peeked over her shoulder one last time. The sun was almost gone completely and the smile slipped from my mouth. They would be swarming soon. She crawled inside the building and pushed the bit of metal back.
It was pitch black once that little sliver of light was gone. She placed her back against the doors. The familiar terror and panic was building up in her, the ingrained and instinctive fear that you do not turn off the lights.
She crept along the wall, fighting it back before it paralysed her. Once she reached a corner she felt upwards until her hand hit something. Relief surged into her when cool plastic met her fingers. She breathed out heavily and shakily when the switch turned on the building's garage lights. She wasn't safe, but she was safer.
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Rule number 3#, stay out of the dark.
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The room itself wasn't scary at all. It was rectangular with about seven or eight vans in it. If she ignored the insignia on the vans she felt just fine. The smiling nurse and her mentally disabled patient were just a bit too unrealistic. Up the eastern wall was a set of stone stairs with a rail. She moved swiftly and scaled them quickly. She needed to be ready for night. She reached the double doors at the top. They were padlocked by a chain through the handles. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a key. The padlock was stiff, and it took a lot of pain and time to open, but it was worth having there.
Shoving through the doors and into the first of the asylum's many halls, she knew instantly something was wrong.
The hall looked the same as when she had left it. Blood smears, overturned beds, smashed windows, barred doorways, flickering, faulty lights and all. It was still empty, still silent but for the creepy buzzing of the short-circuiting fluorescent blubs. All in all, it was horrible, but there was something else that made her hands sweaty and filled her with the desire to run and hide.
She gagged desperatly, fighting an all too familiar urge to claw at her throat.
It was the smell.
That horrible mix of rotting and burning flesh. It was death. It was a smell that haunted nightmares. It was the smell of them.
Adrenaline shot through her and instantly her gun was up and levelled. She held it in front of her, as she began to move down the hall slowly and deliberately, with carefully muted steps. You were noisy; you lost the advantage. They hunted with sound and sight; their own stench covered everything so thoroughly that smell became useless as a sense.
She narrowed her eyes and focused on the hall ahead. She had to get to the other side of the hospital; god knows whether she still had a reason to.
The silence was getting to her, stringing out all her nerves and making her panic build up until it was a thundering in her ears. It was her heartbeat, she realised almost instantly, beating frantically in response to fear.
There was nothing she could do to get rid of the anxiety. With ease born of practice, she channelled it into sharpening her focus.
The gun stopped shaking and her walk became even quieter. She breathed steadily. The gasping that comes after holding your breath and rapid panting noises they cause were both ways to give yourself away, no matter the circumstances.
She made her way half-way across the building, almost where she needed to go, and still no sign of anyone, or thing. The rooms around her varied greatly in contents, yet all were completely empty. She frowned warily; the smell was getting stronger. She knew that there was a very good chance that they had found the hideout. A very good chance that it was already too late and she should just run.
Her mind raced. They would be clustered around the door, trying to break in. Hotaru would need her help to get out, if she wasn't already too late. A sudden anger blazed through her at the thought of her being too late. Her pace quickened until she was almost jogging. She flew around the next corner.
And there they were; three of them. Her greatest fear and hate.
She stopped instantly and steadied her body instantly, her finger clenching around the handgun in her grasp.
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Rule number 4#, make every shot count.
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The one closest to her turned around in the midst of his stumbling walk. A voice rolled out with a hissing and animalistic growl. His milky-filmed eyes and rotted body may have once been handsome, when he was alive. Now, he was covered in filth and blood, with gore smears near his mouth. He was pale as death, and about four times as ugly. His eyes lit up with a crazed hunger and he advanced on her. His movements were clumsy and stiff, but a lot faster than you'd think. His companions followed with mindless desire to feed; two middle-aged females.
A shudder ran down her spin, born of horror and fear alike. This was not right; her mouth twisted with disgust and pity.
She aimed the gun and closed one eye to take extra care; the barrel pointed at the man. The familiar sickening reluctance to shoot was pushed aside roughly. A click and a bang later, he dropped to the ground, his brains blown out all over the floor. The gore left smeary trails across the tiles.
She fought down her urge to throw up and took out the other two in the same way. Both went down, insane and starved expressions frozen onto their grotesque faces.
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Rule number 5#, always aim for the head.
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She ran over to the rotting corpses quickly, breathing through her mouth before the smell could make her start gagging again. She leaned over the male and looked at him closely. The blood around his mouth was orange and brown; days old. The two females were the same. She had only been gone for three hours or so. Which meant these ones hadn't fed, just straggled in after others paved the way. Or they might even be the only ones here.
She felt a ridiculous and illogical amount of relief wash through her. Then she shoved herself back into reality. She grabbed her gun and hoisted the duffel bag higher on her shoulder. They weren't the only ones here. And she needed to find the others.
The doors to the ward for long-term had been smashed inwards. The handles that had been used to chain it shut were in pieces beside the chain, which was whole. She felt the breath go out of her like she'd been punched. They had been here. She slid into the triangular gap silently. She landed on the other side in a crouch, and was immediatly assaulted by the sound of screeching and screaming. Howls, almost animalistic, echoed down the corridor like wind through a tunnel. It was bone-chilling, and she found herself frozen to the spot almost instantly.
Fear this paralysing was almost impossible to overcome. Then she heard a yell over the rest of the noise; recognisable because it formed into words.
"FIRE!" Several bangs, like cannon-shots, followed.
Hotaru.
It was almost impossible to overcome fear like this.
She hoisted the gun higher and ran the length of the hall at a dead sprint. Hotaru was not one to engage if she could hide; she must have been caught by surprise. Which was incredibly worrying on its own.
She turned a final corner and slid to a stop in front of a pair of smashed in double doors. Her mouth dropped in silent horror, terror overwhelming her. Masses of them. Likely crowded around the only thing she still cared about in this world. But yet again she couldn't move.
The smell alone was enough to knock her down, but it was the faces that froze her.
The faces. The horrible, disgusting faces filled with savage hunger and a mindless desire to kill and eat. They were death.
Death.
Dead.
Alive.
Living dead.
Really, she'd thought she was over being this weak. It seems it never truly goes away.
There were at least forty of them, they had smashed through the double oak doors that had covered the doorway, and ripped through quite a lot of plaster on their way. It littered the floor beneath the crowd and hung in the air. She narrowed her eyes and focused on what lay before her, trying to ignore everything that told her to turn around and run away, regardless of the consequences.
Everything was framed by the gentle orange glow of sunset through the all-glass wall opposite her. Their mouths were open, drooling blood and rotten black saliva. They had trampled all over the makeshift beds on the floor, and weak imitations they had built up to resemble a home of sorts. A pang in her terribly over-worked heart.
Another bang snapped her head to the right. And then she saw her.
Standing above the screeching living dead on a table barricade, Hotaru balanced, holding one of her guns and shooting powder bombs at those nearest to her. Each one made the sharp crack she had recognised before. The powder spread across the bodies of those struck and spread like the infection they themselves caused.
It was like acid, and the cause of the howling she had heard. The remains disintegrated into dust and fell upon the floor to join the plaster.
She looked up in time to meet Hotaru's eyes. Relief blossomed in her chest and despite the whole situation, only one thing mattered. She wasn't too late. Hotaru was thinking more practically. Her violet eyes were filled with an emotion similar to one that might be felt be an avenging angel. Divine and murderous.
"MIKAN! USE THE WORMY GUN!"
Her eyes widened. Of course! She flicked her gaze across the white powder Hotaru was still spreading across the room. She dropped the duffel bag with efficient speed, her fingers flying to the zip and ripping it open blindingly fast. The contents spilled unto the ground; A large bazooka-like gun, several powder bomb bullets, a powder-bomb launcher and bullets for the regular gun she clutched.
But this was an emergency, and she knew that it would do no good to take them down one at a time. She ripped her jacket off her waist and tied it around her shoulders tightly. Her hands grabbed the bazooka gun and hauled it under her right arm. It was harder than she'd expected to stand with both hands occupied, but she managed.
She was aware of Hotaru's continued struggle in the background and called out.
"READY!"
Hotaru answered with a hoarse shout of pain. Her heart jumped; it had to be done now. Plan B, because she was out of time for the other less painful option.
She fired a shot with her left hand, then threw the gun away with a flick of her wrist. Every single ravenous zombie in the room faced her. They always react to sound, no matter what it is. She met Hotaru's blazing (but thankfully still alive) eyes briefly and nodded calmly, then the mob charged at her in one wave of nightmares and she was running to meet them, the coat flying out behind and around her.
"Mikan!" Hotaru was suddenly crying desperately, though she could only hear her distantly.
She smashed the first one to come within reach with the bazooka, and the second, and the third, but that was all. She was swallowed up by the mob. Using her overly large gun and cloak as a shield, she ploughed deeper into the middle, fighting the terrifying urge to run away. She couldn't see anything past the rotting faces, and she knew she was crying reflexively from dormant fear. But none of that mattered because she had to reach the centre.
And suddenly she was there. Around her they were causing more harm to themselves than to her with their desperate shrieking and clawing. She vaguely Hotaru shooting again in the background.
Reaching a desperate, fumbling hand into her pocket, she screamed when agony ripped through that arm. Her head snapped up and she shrieked; one had managed to scratch her. she had little time left. She smashed the man point blank in the face, and then retracted her injured arm from her pocket, clutching her last hope desperately in her hand. Ignoring the mob around her, she raised her voice to a scream.
"HOTARU! WORMY GUN!"
In one movement she used her teeth to pull back the slider on the side of the bazooka, and the other to slam the bullet clenched in her fist into the chamber. She clicked it shut again hoisted the whole lot unto her shoulder and fired upwards. Then she was tossed backwards by the recoil and hit the floor.
She tucked her body tightly inwards and sheltered under her jacket. She waited for just one second of terrible anticipation then, hoping she was prepared enough and Hotaru had taken shelter.
The scorching heat and explosive booming sound were unbelievable. She felt herself screaming non-stop. Even though she knew the fire and noise was just a sound effect and the not the cause of the real damage. White powder rained down around her, made heavy by some combustible liquid Hotaru had lined the 'wormy gun's' barrel with. When the screams and ringing in her ears died down somewhat, she raised her head to survey the damage, throwing away the jacket designed specifically to shield her from such a blast.
The smell was better, thankfully. The heat had burnt some of it away. The zombies around her, closest to the blow, were in pieces, their bodies disintergrated beyond help. The others had been thrown back against walls, and even out windows by the force of the blast. They were all well and truly dead now, only the occasional growl from one that had been partially ripped apart or destroyed rang through the room. The roof was destroyed with the windows and burn marks adorned every surface.
With a sick feeling in her gut, she looked over at the table in the corner. She tried to call out, but her throat was raw and choked. She suddenly started feeling the pain from the bite on her arm.
"Mikan!"
Her head snapped up. Hotaru was panting, blood leaking sluggishly from the gash showing through her torn singlet. She knelt down and observed her arm without a word. She rolled onto her back weakly, hissing at the pain in her injured limb. It was all she could do to stare at the ceiling fuzzily; her ears were still ringing. Hotaru's face interrupted this staring contest with her face.
"Damage report," she said calmly. Her breathing was beginning to return to its normal rate. She coughed forcefully, clearing her throat.
"I was scratched, on my right arm. Before the bomb went off. My ears are ringing, I couldn't block them in time. Other than that I have a few cuts," she croaked. Hotaru nodded. She disappeared and appeared in my field of vision rapidly. She held a cotton bandage after coming back. She gritted her teeth and groaned when she wrapped it tightly and hurriedly around her injured arm.
"It wasn't very deep. We already know it won't get infected, so you should be fine. Your ears will clear up in a few minutes."
She caught sight of Hotaru's injury again and frowned.
"What about you?"
She looked down at her stomach with an expression of faint surprise, as though she hadn't noticed it before then. Her hands reached for the cotton.
"I'll fix it up now."
They sat together in silence until Hotaru was done. She got to her feet swiftly and swept around the room, grabbing the discarded duffel bag lying just outside the door and putting anything still usable into it.
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Rule number 6#, every little thing matters.
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"How'd they get in?"
She started to struggle into a sitting position; her hearing was almost clear, but a little bit of nausea remained. Hotaru flicked her over-long bangs out of her eyes impatiently.
"I think they were the bodies in the morgue. I have no idea how they got out, but I'd assume the iron locks rusted and they smashed through as a mass."
She skipped over a still twitching body to the box that had held their food. It was destroyed and her lips tightened in displeasure.
"They came for this room because of the noise, I think. I had the radio on."
She sighed and shrugged with annoyance. Hotaru didn't like to make mistakes.
"I was caught by surprise."
She blinked sympathetically at her friend and managed to stand up, shaking her head to clear it fully. Her hearing was once again fully intact.
"Here!"
She turned in time to catch a jacket thrown at her by Hotaru; their only spare. She said nothing, and pulled it on. Hotaru came back and handed her the duffel bag, unzipped. She looked inside briefly.
"What've we got?" Hotaru asked.
She frowned, "Two metres of rope, one gun, as well as the gun you dropped if you can find it, the ammo in the bag, the wormy gun and a few powder bombs to go with it."
Hotaru sighed, "That's not a lot."
They looked at each other, at a loss. She placed her injured arm against her body and rubbed her head with the other hand.
"We need to hurry and find somewhere for the night. I'd say we have half and hour at most before the light goes. Even less to leave here before more show up."
"It's not like we haven't had to do it before. This place was depressing anyway. Let's move out, we'll probably have to stay in the park for tonight," Hotaru agreed without hesitation and swung the duffel bag out of her hands, hoisting it over her own shoulder.
"We'll have to find more food tomorrow," she pouted regretfully. She liked food, even if most of what they ate was canned or mouldy. They could never take anything like food and bandages after a fight in case they were infected.
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Rule number 7#, better safe than sorry.
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Climbing down the side of the building was strangely easy with the windows already broken for them. It was a little more painful than usual with their injuries, but nothing they hadn't handled before. She reached the last ledge before the ground quickly, though her bones still felt a little jellified after the powder bomb. Hotaru casually steadied her with an arm, trying to look like she wasn't worried. It was a habit, born from a desire to keep the injured calm and discourage panic. With only two of them though, it lost some of its significance. She knew neither she nor Hotaru would start to panic over a few scratches.
The ground was about a metre and half down. She peered into the dusk with Hotaru perched beside, doing the same. Nothing was moving in her field of vision, but that didn't mean nothing was lurking out there. Dusk had fallen quickly; her watch read 6:47pm. The dead would swarm around this place once night fell.
"Move out," Hotaru murmured and they hit the ground running.
The iron gate that had protected them for a long time was surprisingly easy to jump and forget. She guessed when a person lived life like this; home was wherever she thought she could sleep without dying. Hotaru spat on the gate after she landed.
"Thank god," she muttered under her breath. She threw an accusing look over her shoulder. "That is the last time we stay anywhere that looks even remotely like a hospital. You hear?"
She nodded in agreement, her face set in an expression similar to wistfulness.
"I always used to hate hospitals anyway."
She turned and scanned the street ahead, knowing Hotaru would be instinctively covering their backs. they both had their guns raised, ready to fire rapidly. But the dusk was hauntingly empty. She reasoned that any who had begun to move would head straight for the hospital, the noise.
They would be fine, for another day at least.
She made a bee-line for the park a few intersections down, Hotaru following without argument. Hotaru trusted her enough to not ask questions. The light was almost gone now, and the only light they had was a few flickering and dysfunctional street lights still working on timers and kicking in too early. The eerie quiet was everywhere, and she glanced sharply at every shadow.
The grass of the park was dead and brown. She noticed absently as they hopped the curb and off the street. Several hot summers and no sprinklers worth of dead plants she'd wager. But the bushes and trees surrounding them were green. They crept as silently as possible down the first path they came across. Hotaru was calling the shots as to what direction they went, but she was fine with that. The paths were everywhere; intersecting and interweaving constantly. She would have gotten lost in an instant. Hotaru picked one that ran deeper. They wouldn't come too far into a park.
Her eyes had adapted to the fading light and she could pick out the shapes of bushes. Suddenly, there was a rustle beside them. Instantly two guns were up and levelled. There was no room for hesitation. They went back to back by unspoken consent and waited silently, ears straining to catch the slightest sound.
It came out of the bushes closest to Hotaru. She knew her friend would not hesitate to shoot, so she reached out a hand and stopped her. Hotaru looked at her with narrowed, demanding eyes. Then snorted derisively, not even needing to verbalise her question before it was answered.
A boy with his head hanging stood before them. His hair was mattered and dirty. He would've been far younger than them.
She hesitated, ". . . hey, little boy?"
The head raised and she felt her stomach sink. The milky-filmed, red-rimmed eyes, the mindlessness behind them, the rotting skin and clumsy walk. It wasn't a kid anymore.
Her arm raised and she aimed her gun; eyes sad, "I'm sorry."
The boy started to move towards them ravenously. She pulled the trigger. It got him through the lower jaw, ripping it away. He flew back onto the ground, twitching and snarling feebly. Hotaru expressionlessly shot him a second time through the forehead. He stopped moving.
They stood in silence for a few moments. Hotaru in respect of her distress rather than any unwanted emotions of her own.
"Come on, Mikan. We need to find a big enough tree before it gets completely dark," she said quietly, but in a tone that allowed for no argument.
She smiled listlestly in reply; a small and sad expression. "Yeah, we do."
Hotaru nodded and turned on her heel, disappearing further into the greenery. After a moment of contemplation, she follows soundlessly. She thinks maybe they're murderers, and that's why Hotaru is always so intent on appearing heartless.
Because if they want to live in this world then they genuinly have to be.
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Rule number 8#, it's them or you.
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In the end they chose a tree beside the pond in the centre of the park. It was a pretty little thing, all sparkly in the starlight. Especially from up in the tree. She was a good climber, and Hotaru always had an invention for the more important things. It only took a minute for her to swing her way up several branches and have Hotaru throw her the bag. She settled it in a fork between two branches and offered Hotaru a hand they both knew she didn't need. She narrowed her lovely eyes at it, as though it was planning to bite her (and knowing her luck, it might very well try). When she finally took it with a sigh, one of those small, very rare smiles graced her face.
They settled quickly; guns were placed close at hand, for instant use. The duffel bag was hung on a branch above them. Unfortunatly it appeared to be empty of food. They would be going hungry tonight. At least they still had water.
They had no blankets, but it was summer, so her ratty jacket and Hotaru's coat would do. She shifted carefully into a horizontal position, easily ignoring the discomfort she was so use to.
"Goodnight Hotaru." She said tiredly, smiling sleepily at her.
"Goodnight Mikan," she replies after a pause.
It was a tradition, from back when there had been more of them all surviving together. Everyone said goodnight to show that they were still there, surviving. Hotaru had never been an overly indulgent person, and she'd never found that sort of thing productive, but now . . .
. . . there was only Hotaru for her to say it to.
She preferred to think that at least she still had Hotaru to say it to.
She smiled and rolled over slightly, feeling satisfied. Her jacket was tucked up around her chin; it wasn't really cold, so it was probably just an automatic instinct to snuggle into something. She closed her eyes and waited for sleep to come. She found herself very tired because today had been a tad more stressful than usual. She heard Hotaru settle down beside her with a sigh. It wasn't late, but sleep was hard to come by at the best of times, so it was a take every opportunity kind of situation. Even if that meant bed at 7:00 pm.
She cursed herself for not getting to sleep quicker once night fell. Because all of a sudden she was huddling into her blanket in fear, and covering her ears.
Screams, howling, riots. The noises rose from the city outside the park radius. They were kilometres away, but the sound was only muted somewhat. She clenched her jaw and ground her teeth together.
Across the branch, she saw Hotaru sit up, and reach into her deep pockets. She pulled out two sets of headphones, modified to block out any sound two hundred or less metres away, depending on what setting was used. She reached up and set them in her ears quickly, looking totally unruffled as she did so. The others she held outstretched in one hand.
"Here."
Hotaru gave her another small, almost non-exsistant smile and lay down again when she grabbed the headphones from hand and slipped them into her ears. The relief was instant, though she knew her dreams would be filled with riots and brutal fights and crazed monsters feeding on small animals with blood dripping from their chins.
She tried to sleep again; it was easier when she pretended she needed the headphones to block out the sound of an old lifetime that seemed almost impossibly distant.
The cars driving, horns beeping; just city noises. They were the noises at night that told you that you weren't the only person in the world. That there were others. Now, there was none of that noise. They had no one to turn to. No moment where they felt completely safe. No end to their struggle in sight.
But she couldn't think about that. Not now. She looked back at her sleeping friend. Then decided friend wasn't a strong enough word to describe her feelings for Hotaru.
She was her family. Her everything.
Without Hotaru there would be no point to her exsistance.
She would look after her. She would do anything to keep her alive. And at the same time she knew that in the end it would far more likely be the other way around but that didn't mattered because Hotaru needed her too. They'd be together for as long as lived (probably not very long in all honesty, but one could hope). She would give her life for Hotaru. She would kill for her, she thinks. And they would be real people, not the rotting dead kind.
Fighting for her; this meant following the rules and always knowing what to do. Never breaking down. Working together in perfect unison and just surviving because there was nothing else they could do.
She closed her eyes. Keeping watch would be pointless. They would feel it if the dead people tried to climb up. They wouldn't come into the forest anyway. The amount of life made them jealous, and any food to be found had long since run away or perished.
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Rule number 9#, take nothing for granted; not even sleep.
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She was startled awake the next morning by the loud sound of heavy thudding. The pounding broke through her dreams and catapulted her into awareness. She sat up so quick she felt dizzy, and had to lean against the tree trunk for support. Her disorientated gaze flickered over and found Hotaru still sleeping; she was quite good at sleeping. Then her eyes found the headphones in Hotaru's ears and the pounding registered in her mind.
If she could hear it, it was within- she checked the headphone setting quickly- one hundred metres. She pulled out the headphones and was assaulted with a thunderous noise in her ears. She frantically searched the surroundings on the ground, seeing nothing out of place but noting the sunlight and morning sky automatically out of habit.
What was it?
A thought came to her; her head snapped up and she saw it, above the park. It was flying in circles above, preparing to land. For a moment her mind blanked, then it came to her, a word that felt almost completely foreign; Helicopter.
Her mouth dropped open and she stared in open disbelief. This sort of thing did not happen. It just didn't. Not in her world. That sort of thing just did not happen.
Hotaru would know how to handle it all. She always did.
"Hotaru!"
She leaned over and shoved her shoulder, fingers grabbing the headphones out of her ears at the same time. Hotaru jolted awake, her eyes snapping open. It took her less than a minute to grasp what was going on. She watched her friend with an absent smile; Hotaru was a genius after all. She was starting to relax from her aura of purposeful calm.
"I'll try to get a good look at it. Make sure there are none on the ground."
She nodded in agreement. Hotaru bent over the duffel bag again and pulled out a pair of modified night-vision goggles. She looked up as she rummaged.
"How long have they been here?"
She checked her watch distractedly; 7:00 am.
"I woke up five or so minutes ago."
Hotaru nodded and began her analysis through the goggles. She started muttering things under her breath rapidly and obviously taking mental notes to be stored in that massive brain of hers. So she turned away from her friend and did her job too. She watched silently, eyes flashing around, fingers clenched around her gun and gaze focused.
"Unbranded, well-taken care of, gunned, several passengers, not including the pilot."
She stopped scanning the surroundings and looked over her shoulder in time to see the helicopter land in the trees beyond the pond, about one hundred and fifty metres east of their tree. She watched it disappear from sight, and suddenly a thought occurred to her. She smiled, the beginnings of something good blossoming in her chest. Possibly hope.
"Maybe they've come from a place with other people, and are looking for survivors?"
Hotaru's eyes narrowed. "It would be better to act carefully in this kind of situation." She was frowning, and her fingers clenched and unclenched continuously. She recognised the fiercely protective look in Hotaru's eyes. The girl would not let the intruders anywhere near them if she thought they might do harm. Or them anywhere near the intruders.
She felt a pang of disappointment in her chest.
"We should go." She looked up into level violet eyes blankly. "Check it out," Hotaru clarified briefly, sort of staring her down and refusing to meet her eyes at the same time.
She felt a smile half work its way unto her face as Hotaru packed up the duffel bag.
"We're getting food first though."
"Uh huh."
"And we're only looking until we know what's going on."
"Yep."
"And Mikan," Hotaru suddenly said in all seriousness, with none of her previous light-hearted protesting. She looked up in surprise.
"Don't get too excited."
Hotaru's eyes were cold, hard and just a little bit sad. She nodded in response; it wasn't something she really needed to be told.
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Rule number 10#, don't hope unless you like despair.
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What'd you think? Huh? Huh? Tell me! Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?
Nah, I'm just kidding, but seriously, if you liked it, please review! XD
(I like this version of the story better, plus now it's got more plot and has expanded past the stage of random zombie violence. What do you guys think?)