Author's Note: So I noticed the other day that I have written eighteen stories. I've never really paid attention to that, as two of them aren't even for this fandom, one of them is co-written by another writer, most of them are One-Shot's and two of them I never plan on finishing. But, I wondered to myself what I would write as piece nineteen as it's my lucky number.

I've had this idea in my head for the past couple of days now and I realize that I already have other things on my plate. I honestly have chapter 22 of Forbidden ready, but I refuse to update it until I've updated Tram Wrecked, which is currently taking me a while to work on for some reason. So, I took a break and this came out. I'll just give it to you guys as a little beta and see how you all feel about it. I might continue or just use it as a fun little way to work on a different style of writing.

Enjoy!

Apocalyptic

Chapter 1

Ten minutes after two, my favorite time of the day.

The time school was let out.

March nipped at my nose the moment I stepped from the confined jail they called high school. I inhaled the fresh air gratefully and started towards the parking lot where I had left my car this morning. I could feel the ever constant tickle of wary eyes following me. I ignored it. Being six foot something or other and the size of an average doorway tended to draw in some attention. For an eighteen-year-old, I looked intimidating. People had me pegged as trouble the moment I stepped into a room and, really, I didn't give a damn. High school was just that. I wasn't ever going to see any of these people again which meant that their opinion of me meant nothing.

Being sociable wasn't my thing. As adolescence mingled in the parking lot, discussing their plans for the upcoming break, I pushed passed them, my only desire to talk to anyone being Simon, my brother, as we left the school in the rearview mirror. Unfortunately, as I approached my dark sedan, I noticed he wasn't lounging near the passenger side door like he normally was. Simon had gym for his final hour and the locker rooms emptied out into the parking lot, so he was usually made it to the car before I did.

I surveyed the area, glancing around to see if he was just falling a few steps behind. I found his spikey, blonde mop of hair near the door to the female locker room. I rolled my eyes and looked away as he was currently occupied by his brunette, cheerleader girlfriend of the week.

Simon was the social one. I had him but he had the entire school. He got along with everyone, not really falling into a specific clique though he spent a lot of time with the basketball team considering he was a player. He was always telling me to smile more, be friendlier and I'd make more friends. It was easier said than done on my part. The reason for my dislike of school wasn't because I didn't care for academics or being educated. In fact, I thoroughly enjoyed all that. It was the being-around-a-bunch-of-people-I-could-really-care -less-for thing I had a problem with. Simon cared about making friends and having people like him. I didn't.

While Simon was busy, I tossed my backpack into the back seat then stood against the driver's door with my arms crossed. If Simon happened to take a second to glance this way and realize that he was keeping me waiting, then perhaps he'd hurry his ass up and we'd get as far from this place as quickly as possible. But I knew Simon, and it could take a while before he'd get distracted from a pretty girl.

After about five minutes I almost decided to head in his direction and drag him back to the car. That was until I saw a girl exiting the back entrance of the school heading towards the student parking lot. Her hair was left down today, her blonde tresses falling in soft waves to her mid-back. It created a wall around her face, making her features indistinguishable though her hunched shoulders and downtrodden step indicated that she was unhappy. She was walking by herself as well.

Unhappiness and alone. That wasn't normal when it came to Chloe Saunders.

I watched her quizzically as she despairingly pulled her keys from her messenger bag. What happened? Why wasn't she smiling? Why couldn't I see those big, expressive blue eyes of hers? And why wasn't she being trailed by her obnoxious friend, Rodgers or her douche of a boy-

"Chloe!"

Speak of the devil.

My eyes narrowed as a lanky, ginger shoved past a group of freshmen and sprinted after her. Chloe kept walking as if she hadn't heard him but it didn't take him long to catch up. I felt my fist clench against my bicep as he reached out and took hold of her wrist, keeping her from leaving though it was very clear that was exactly what she wanted to do. She pulled herself from his grasp, whipping her head in his direction as fiercely angry blue eyes fell upon him.

"Just leave me alone, Nate."

Nate Bozian. A senior like myself and a player on Simon's basketball team. Also Chloe's boyfriend of about two years. Also another reason why I hated school.

Despite Chloe's protests, Nate followed her to her car, the two of them arguing the entire way. Their audio level had dropped a few octaves so I could no longer hear what was going on. However, from my perspective- or anyone else's for the matter- it didn't look good.

"Looks like things aren't going so well between Chloe and Nate."

I merely motioned an acknowledgement of Simon's approach. He must have been walking my way after bidding his girlfriend goodbye and saw me glaring off at something. It wouldn't have taken him long to figure out what.

"I still don't know why she's with him." I heard myself rumble though I had no recollection of deciding to speak whatsoever.

"Well, maybe if someone was man enough to confess that he's been crushing on her since preschool, then she wouldn't be with an ass-hat like Nate."

"I haven't been crushing on her since preschool." I muttered, eyes still assessing the situation between Chloe and Nate, debating whether an interjection was needed. She was jiggling the key in the lock of her run down, twenty-year-old Honda a bit rougher than she normally would as Nate stood behind her speaking with a displeased expression.

"Oh, right. It must have been since- well, when did you stop thinking that girls had cooties? Fourth grade maybe?" Simon snickered.

I sighed and pulled open the door to my car, turning away as Chloe ignored Nate and got into hers. Simon followed suit and added, "But now might be your chance, bro. They've been fighting for a few days now and it doesn't look like Chloe's about to let up. Maybe she's finally realized he's a dick and she'll end it."

If Simon got even an ounce of shit from a girl he'd dump her in a second. His relationships never lasted more than two weeks. Chloe and Nate, however, have been together since she started her sophomore year. A measly fight wasn't going to break that kind of bond.

"I doubt it." I said, putting the car into reverse.


Dad left a note on the fridge informing Simon and I that he was going to work overtime at his firm for the night. He also left a forty on the counter and said that we could order whatever. This happened rarely. Maybe once a month. Dad was pretty good about being around as we grew up, putting his family first. Simon said that was especially since he had adopted me as he remembered Dad working a moving around a lot to support the two of them. When he met me while working on a case involving my biological father and heard that I was going into foster care, evidently he volunteered on the spot and found a good firm that was hiring newer lawyers.

I had been five.

Since then it was just me, Simon and Dad. So, even if nights like this were minimal, that didn't mean I particularly liked the idea of Dad being out late. I just felt- well, better when he was here.

"Dad's going to be late, so I take it you'll want to go to the coffee house?" Simon asked. I picked up the keys I had just discarded onto the table in the foyer and was out the door before Simon could finish his question. I could practically feel him smirking as he re-donned his backpack and followed me out, no doubt pocketing the forty bucks as he did so.

I constantly wondered if it would ever become particularly troublesome by how well Simon knew me. If Dad wasn't home, it made me restless. So Simon showed me this coffee house he enjoyed a couple years back and we always went there to do our homework when we were left to fend for ourselves. It kept my mind occupied long enough.


The coffee house was a few miles away. No more than a five minute car ride. Simon ordered our usual drinks while I grabbed my favorite booth. He came back and informed me that our drinks would take a couple minutes, then asked me if I could help him out with his physics in exchange for his assistance on my mythology essay.

We were going through the motions. It was just a normal day.

Then Simon abruptly smacked my arm.

"Ow," I grumbled, shooting him a glare. "What the hell was that for?"

"Dude, look." He whispered, jerking his chin in the direction of the front counter.

I followed his gaze. A petite girl stood at the register, blonde locks tumbling over her shoulder. She handed the cashier some cash while tucking a few strands of her hair behind her ear to reveal blue eyes.

Chloe.

My gut did this weird flip that, though I've been experiencing this particular sensation for years when it came to Chloe, I still wasn't quite used to it.

"Oh man. Her eyes are red. She's been crying." Simon murmured. I saw it too. Her normally vibrant and lively orbs were puffy with irritation and indeed red shot. It looked like whatever was going on between her and Nate, it was worse than I thought.

"Alright, remember that 'chance' I mentioned earlier?" Simon said, back to his rushed whispers. "This is it. Go talk to her."

"What?" My head snapped his way, scowling as he gave me a thumbs up and a mischievous grin. "No way."

"Yes way. You gotta be the hero, bro. Go ask her if she's okay. Console her. Tell her she deserves better than that jerk Bozian, then sweep her off her feet."

"The amount of chick flicks you've seen equates to the amount of girls you've dated," I muttered dryly.

"Obviously."

"My point is that stuff like that only happens in the movies. She's upset. She doesn't want to be bothered."

"Of course she does. She's a girl. When a girl's upset she wants nothing else but to be bothered by all that chick flick cheese."

"No offense, Simon, but I don't find any comfort in the advice of someone who can't keep a relationship for more than a few days."

Simon huffed in exasperation. "Hey, I could easily make something work if I wanted to."

"So out of the plethora of girls you've dated since the fifth grade you've never wanted to withhold a long term relationship with any of them?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Nah. In case you haven't noticed, I have a knack for attracting girls that are particularly-" He seemed to struggle for a second to find the right word.

"Shallow?"

"Exactly." Simon nodded. "Which is why, as you so graciously put it, I don't let these relationships last very long."

"Right," I muttered, reaching over and snagging his packet of homework he was supposed to be working on for physics. He quickly swiped it back.

"Nope. No physics until you go talk to Chloe."

I shrugged. "Suit yourself. It's your homework, not mine."

He frowned and I smirked since he hadn't thought that one through. The cashier called a number from the pickup counter that I assumed was our order judging by Simon directing his attention that way. Suddenly, his mirth-like grin was back.

"Hey. Mind going to pick up our orders, bro?"

I felt my brows furrow and I looked over towards the pickup counter where our coffees waited. But Chloe was waiting there too.

"No."

"No, as in you don't mind?" Simon quizzed.

"No, as in I'm not going."

"Well I'm not going to go and get them." Simon said, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat, raising a challenging brow. "Which means that your espresso is going to get cold. That and it's a waste of three dollars a coffee, which you had me put on your bank card."

I glowered at him and it was his turn to smirk.

Grumbling, I stood and uttered. "I hate you."

"You love me." He shot back.

Cautiously- very cautiously- I walked my way up to the pickup counter. Chloe was leaning against it, watching Mitchell, another guy from the basketball team that worked part time here at the coffee house, make her order. Except she wasn't really watching him. She wasn't really watching anything. Just spacing out, lost in her own thoughts.

When I reached around her to grab me and Simon's espressos, she jumped, surprised. She's always been particularly skittish. Easily frightened by little noises or sudden unexpected occurrences. Even when we were little. I felt the corner of my lips quirk at the memory of the two of us playing tag in the second grade. While the rest of the class ran and hid, I was it and I found her peaking around a tree. I tapped her shoulder to let her know that she was it. She squealed, and spun around but beamed when she saw me. Then she giggled and poked me.

"You didn't say no tag backs, Derek!"

This time, when Chloe turned to face me, her smile was forced and you could still see anger and hurt in her eyes.

"Oh. Hi Derek."

"Hey." I rumbled. I observed as she tried to look for something to say, her fake smile faltering. Part of me told me to leave her be, to not get involved. But part of me wanted to do just as Simon said, if not more. I wanted to take her into my arms and tell her that everything was going to be okay. Just like I did the day she found out her mother would never come home again when we were six. I wanted to be what I was to her before middle school started and society's expectations separated us.

For now I settled for, "Chloe, are you okay?" Because, that was all I could do for her. That was all I could ever do for Chloe. Make sure she was alright, safe, happy.

She met my gaze and I could see her walls crumbling.

"I-"

The sound of the front door opening couple by a woman's scream had us both glancing toward the entrance of the coffee house. A middle-aged woman stumbled into the establishment, her cries an unearthly, bloodcurdling sound. Everyone quieted and stared as she tripped over her own feet, tumbling to the ground. She caught herself on her hands and knees and frantically glanced around, crazed brown eyes wide with terror.

"Excuse me, miss?" Mitchell called from the counter. My brows knit together as I assessed this woman. She looked like she had just seen a ghost. Her skin was pale, her dark hair was windblown in the back, and plastered to her face and neck in the front due to sweat. Her business-like clothing was also tattered and carelessly askew.

She had been running.

"Miss, what's going on?" Mitchell tried addressing her again. However, she didn't need to answer.

The front door was flanked by two, large glass windows. When more muffled screams were heard from outside, I peered through them to see more people fleeing. They were moving in one direction. West if facing away from the coffee counter was north. Every single person that ran by had the same expression that was painted on the woman's face.

Suddenly, the front door was thrown open again and for a moment, I thought it was more civilians following the first woman's lead. That they were looking for shelter from whatever it was that they were running from. That was until the woman glanced behind her, catching sight of the man who had barreled in through the door, and screamed.

The man's head lifted at the sound, revealing a face deformed by decomposition.

Everything after that happened as if someone had taken a universal remote and had hit fast forward. The coffee house erupted into hysterics and the patrons flew out of their seats in a panic, all heading for the side entrance of the building. Terrified screams and surprised hollers filled the room, becoming background noise to the otherwise peaceful area.

I watched in horror and confusion as the man bore down on the woman. Her cries became gurgling gasps as he pinned her down and went for her throat. The whole scene was something you'd never imagine seeing outside a movie. Even if I witnessed Simon break his arm bad enough that the bone broke through skin, I don't think I've ever seen something as gruesome with that much blood in my life.

The thought of Simon jogged me from my shock and I shot my gaze towards our booth. He was on the other side of the woman being attacked, close to the side door everyone else was exiting. His wide, terrified almond eyes were glued to what was happening right in front of him, keeping him there. Frozen.

"Simon!" I bellowed over the noise of the coffee house. At first he didn't budge. But I tried again and he blinked hard before meeting my eye.

"Take the keys and get to the car. I've got Chloe. I'll meet you there."

He took one last look at the woman that was now long dead, his skin paling.

"Simon!"

"Right." He answered, shaking his head. "Hurry up, Derek, you hear me?" He hollered back. I nodded and he dashed towards the door.

I turned back to Chloe and found her in a similar trance as Simon had been. Only, Chloe looked as if she had stepped right into her own, personal worst nightmare.

"Oh my God," she breathed, her voice heavy with fear.

Just as Chloe spoke, the man mutilating the woman stopped. Slowly, its head lifted. The man's skin was wax-like and blue. His hair was at its extent length to the point that roots were showing as the skin on his scalp began to pull away. His eyes were sunken and dry, color indistinguishable. This man had no doubt been dead and, considering the very early stages of the putrefaction stage of decomposition, no longer than a couple days.

Dead or not, he stood there, no more than ten feet away as the woman's blood dripped from his purple lips, staring at us. No, he wasn't staring at us.

He was staring at Chloe.

"Chloe," I said, taking a small step closer to her. She didn't move.

The man stepped forward.

"Chloe," I hissed, never taking my eyes off the dead man.

He took another step, head slightly cocking to the side.

Chloe breathed out a shaky whimper, her blue eyes staring at the man like a deer staring into oncoming headlights.

Suddenly he lunged. I shouted Chloe's name again and tackled her to the ground, the dead man flying over us. I heard the thud as he hit the pickup counter but didn't look back to make sure he was down. I pulled Chloe up without blinking an eye, took hold of her hand and ran for the exit, Chloe on my tail.

Alright, so what do you think so far? Worth continuing? Or was this just a nice little break from what I'm currently working on? Obviously, if this was continued, it'd be an AU/AH and no powers. Anyways, hope you enjoyed it but leave some critic if you have any. You guys are great!