By unspoken agreement, the boys sandwiched the girl between them on the bike to make sure she wouldn't lose her grip or slide off or anything. She was still pretty unresponsive, but she'd at least obeyed when Kiba asked her to get on. He didn't know what had happened to her – assistant vet, not psychologist, after all – but her head had to be in a pretty bad place.
They pulled out of the school parking lot, Kiba wanting to get a little distance from the slaughter. Plus, some of those zombie movies had given the things a good enough sense of smell to hunt with. He'd rather not find out which zombie movies were right and which weren't.
Christ. Amazing what you get used to after awhile. His brain had already made the shift from the panicky burst of 'Holy shit, zombies run away run away' adrenaline to... well, still running away, but at least he wasn't panicking now. He was in a strange, calm place, at least for now.
Them having to all squeeze onto his vespa did interesting things to the boobs pressed against his back, but now was definitely not the time. Particularly with the male arm wrapped around his waist like a vise. Shino apparently didn't travel well.
He was tempted to tease the other guy about it, but saving their lives had kind of bought him some leeway. Just a little.
He also managed to restrain himself from making some stupid crack about Shino's presence ruining an otherwise lovely Sunday afternoon ride, but honestly he was happier to have Shino's gun than Hinata's boobs with him right now.
"So, uh… now taking suggestions on what the hell we do now." He had to raise his voice to be heard over the wind and the hum of the vespa as they cruised down the street. "We only have three-quarters of a tank of gas, here."
"Stay away from high density population centers," Shino offered. Kiba made a face. More people probably meant more zombies, yeah.
Shino went on, "Provisions. Defensible shelter. Physiological needs."
"The Hyuuga have a big compound, don't they?" he wondered aloud. The Hyuuga were one of those old money types; their house was practically a mansion set just off the town square. They had one of those fancy little gated communities to raise their kids in. He was kind of surprised they'd sent Hinata to public school, looking back. They seemed like the kind to have private tutors and stuff.
Maybe they could find a place to wait out whatever this was and get Hinata back home in the bargain.
At first, he thought she was shaking her head pressed against his shoulder blades, vetoing the plan. But he realized she was just shaking, trying to burrow into his back like a frightened mole.
He swallowed. "Okay. Not there." He didn't want to think too deeply on that. Just... no.
He figured Shino would have volunteered something if he had any thoughts he wanted to share, so Kiba guessed it was up to him. Unless Akamaru wanted to field any ideas, because he was really, really open to suggestions.
"Guess we'll try my place, then. It's out on the edge of town, near the forest," he decided.
Tsume was a back-to-nature sort of mom, which meant he and Hana had spent a lot of time camping out, growing up. It had led to a lot of 'raised by wolves' jokes in school. Naruto just thought it was funny, and he sounded kind of envious even as he made jokes, but some of the other kids said it like they thought that meant the Inzukas were beneath them. At least they did until he started throwing punches when they brought the tired old joke up again. They were the same kids who used to give him shit for being raised by a single mom, and he wasn't going to take that lying down.
The clinic wasn't far, only a quarter mile, but Kiba wasn't taking chances and floored it all the way there. Strangely, they didn't see a soul. No zombies, no people. Konoha was a small city, home to over 150,000 people, but they didn't see a single one. He was grateful, of course, but he didn't understand it and he didn't trust it. Where could they be?
Soon enough, the vespa rolled to a stop in the little parking lot the clinic shared with a flower shop and a bakery.
"Oh, fuck me," Kiba whispered.
The front window of the clinic was smashed in, a jagged hole as big as he was plainly visible. The door sagged drunkenly on one working hinge, wobbling around like Lee that one time they got the older kid drunk. It had taken all of one beer from Shikamaru's dad's stash.
"Guys, I gotta –"
Shino and Hinata were already off the bike. Shino wordlessly inclined his head toward the clinic, shotgun in hand, and Hinata took his hand in hers like a lost child.
Which one was the child was up for debate at the moment. Kiba was just glad for the human contact; it helped. The Inuzukas were a touchy-feely family. He was used to hugs and hair-tousling and casual, affectionate touch.
"Go," Shino said simply. The Aburame took up a position at the front door, gun at the ready.
"Thanks," he said thickly. He was having a hard time swallowing.
Glass from the window crunched under his boots as he stepped inside, loud in the quiet. Not a good place for Hinata's delicate little slippers. He slipped his hand from hers and lifted her up onto the counter, out of danger of getting her feet cut up. "Wait here, will ya? Just be a minute," he told her.
It wasn't just for Hinata's safety. If there was something back there… if… well, he wanted to go it alone. The complete lack of bodies and blood was a good sign he was having a hard time taking comfort in right now.
For one thing, it was never this quiet at his place. There were always humans and animals coming and going, making a racket. He moved behind the counter to the back, letting Akamaru out of his jacket again now that they were away from the glass.
He discovered the reason for the quiet pretty quickly; every single cage door along the back wall gaped open. All 34 cages that typically held the menagerie of pets people brought to them, ranging from cats and dogs to more exotic creatures, empty. Even the long-term patients or animals recovering from surgery were gone.
His puppy let out a quiet whine. "You said it, partner," he agreed. Where was everybody?
Now that he was looking, he saw that quite a few bottles of medication and surgical supplies had been taken from their neat and orderly cubby holes and tossed on the ground. Then stepped on, a lot of them.
"Looters," he growled. His mom had way too much respect for the profession to just throw crap around like this, even in a hurry. He looked around taking stock, trying to get a feel for what was missing and what they had.
Still, he got taking the antibiotics and painkillers. That, at least, made sense. He bet there were a lot of people out there who could use them right now. But why would they take the tranquilizers? The size of the doses on some of those would knock a human out for the better part of a day.
They had their own rooms in the back, bathroom and kitchen and the usual amenities, sectioned off from the clinic part by a door with a deadbolt. Akamaru ran on ahead after he found his keys and unlocked the door, making a beeline for Kiba's room. Kiba glanced into his mom's and Hana's rooms, but they didn't seem to be noticeably ransacked. Kiba guessed whoever it had been had considered the clinic fair game, but was a little more squeamish about looting somebody's house. Oddly courteous of them, but whatever.
Nobody there, either.
Even his mom's huge wolfhound, Kuromaru, was gone. And there was nothing to tell him where they'd gone. His mom had never bothered with cellphones, and there weren't any notes on the fridge.
Good news on the survivability front, at least. There was food in the pantry and a working toilet. The necessities one didn't think of when coasting on the adrenaline rush and running for one's life, but Kiba was suddenly starving and in dire need of the restroom. Akamaru had already found his food bowl full and was chowing down.
They could hole up here for a little while, plan their next move. Catch their breath.
As if to make him a liar, the terribly loud crack of Shino's gun interrupted his thoughts.