Bleh, I hate this chapter. :P
But anyways, sorry for the long wait. I've been on a writing hiatus due to the passing of a great friend. But In this chapter, I've added two submitted charactors, Scout and Roland. I hope you enjoy, and feedback is required. Gracias! :)
Love and hugs,
Nikki
Date: December 11th
Location: Reno, Nevada
She stood in the middle of the navy hued streets, holding the cool metal in her shaky palms. She took a deep breath, making sure her body was relaxed and cool. It was just a run to the market at three in the morning, nothing more and nothing less. Ellis would have been more than happy to get the girly supplies she needed, but Serenity didn't want him to. This also was the first night in weeks that he had gotten a wink of shut eye. And Nick, Nick was another problem. He was separated from his other half, and he decided to drink away his sorrows. It wasn't uncommon to find a shattered bottle of Smirnoff or Captain Morgans in the living room.
She had stolen a butterfly knife from Nick's room, and she eyed it carefully. She would of liked to use a pistol or rifle as a mean of protection, but the trio's guns were locked up tight in Ellis' room. That is, except for the Russian model AK that was propped up next to Nick's bed. Scarlett had forced him to take it with him, as a reminder of her. He gave her a ring, she gave him a gun and a child. She flicked the butterfly knife open as rubber tread against concrete, her breath hitching up. Infected were common in Zone Two, where every person who died turned.
A blur of grey.
She felt a body slam into hers, and she let out a squeal as Serenity fell to the ground. She jammed her knife into the things rib cage, a gasp of pain coming from the body. It was a human! She felt him recoil in pain as she pulled the knife out, blood splattering on her black North Face jacket. After three months being out on her own, she should be used to blood by now. But she still wasn't.
"I am so sorry. I thought you were one of those things." Serenity felt sturdy arms wrap around her, gracefully pulling her up.
"Yeah, you should be paying attention!" He spat back.
"Excuse me?" Serenity scoffed.
The man looked to be around her age, with scruffy brownish blonde hair and hard grey eyes. He had three metal dog tags slung around his thick neck, and his hands were bandaged up, holding a dangerous metal bat. Suddenly, Serenity didn't feel so bad about stabbing the arrogant boy. He wore a medium blue hoodie, with khaki's and Nike's. He looked like a self proclaimed collage student who lived on Top Ramen and odd jobs.
"You fucking stabbed me! I was running from a group of mercenaries!" He held a timid hand to his wounded chest.
"You are such a baby! Let me see it, I was a nurse before the world went to hell."
"Could we do it somewhere, uhh, inside? Those assholes are still on my trail."
Serenity sniffed, putting her knife back into her pocket. Tampons could wait, she guessed. The apartment she shared with Ellis and Nick was three blocks away, an easy walk for most people. But by the fifteenth step, the unnamed man had to lean on Serenity to walk. He smelled slightly of marijuana and cologne, along with a smell she couldn't quite place. He soon began to bleed out, barely making it to her flat. Ellis was asleep in his room, while Nick was sprawled out on the couch, a bottle of bourbon cradled in his arms.
"This is my deadbeat roommate, Nick. The other ones asleep." Serenity explained as she laid the injured man on the table.
She grabbed the bottle out of Nick's slaked hands, earning a few choice words and a weak left hook to the side. She put the bottle next to the man, as she padded off to the bathroom. She always kept a few med-packs just in case something like this happened. She brought the red pack out, noticing how much blood he had already lost.
"Can you take off your jacket and shirt, please?" Serenity asked, pulling on thick latex gloves.
"You just wanna see my chest, don't cha?" He chortled, wincing after he moved his chest too much.
"Not really, to be honest. Do you want to bleed out, or what?" Serenity zipped open the pack, keeping her eyes focused on the medical supplies inside.
The wound was a gash probably three inches wide and four inches deep. She couldn't judge how bad it was, but by the amounts of blood pouring out, it was pretty bad. She moved a lock of her chestnut brown hair away from her dewy forehead as she pulled a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. She wet a cotton ball with the substance, slowly tapping on the bloody wound. She could feel him stiffen up under her delicate touch, and the solution fizzed in his wound. Nick probably hadn't cleaned the knife in ages.
"Sorry, uh-"
"Scout. Just call me that."
"Like as in the kid from Team Fortress Two?"
"I can't tell yah how many times I've heard that, missy."
Serenity let out a laugh. "My names Serenity."
The rest of the time was spent in a comfortable silence, since Scout's mind was numbed with pills and bourbon. He was nineteen, months younger than Serenity, who had turned twenty in November. She had thought turning twenty would be fun, planning a girls night, going to Vegas or Los Angeles. But instead, it was spent nursing over Nick's broken heart, and Ellis' wounds. He had crushed his left ankle when they escaped from the bridge. He was still on crutches and in a boot, but he could walk easily with the stubborn heart he had. Serenity no longer questioned why Ellis had chosen Josie over her, mainly because she was over him. Sure, she had a small thing with DJ (Who's real name turned out to be Derrick) which ended up with a horrible one night stand. He obviously was not skilled in the sex department.
"I'm almost finished." Serenity whispered, mainly to herself. Nick was knocked unconscious, and Scout was shitfaced and stone cold. She was left to her own silence as she finished stitching up the cut, a small smile spreading over her lips as she finished. The man had fallen asleep from the combo of pills and drink, a small snore emitted from his parted lips. She sighed, knowing he'd need a place to sleep. She couldn't just throw him out on the streets again, he'd probably end up getting shot or stabbed again. Serenity got up from the table and roused Nick.
"Nick. Wake up." She whispered, lightly tapping the tip of his cool nose.
"Go away." He grumbled, swatting at her.
"Tell you what. If you help me move this guy for me, I'll letcha drink the rest of your bourbon."
His eyes fluttered open, a trademark gambler's smirk trailing on his slackened jaw. He looked a lot better sober than he did drunk, that's for sure. He quickly hoisted Scout over his shoulder, carrying the boy to her room. It wasn't really considered a room, it was the size of a coat closet or bathroom. She always liked small bedrooms, because she loved feeling closed in and comfy.
She silently tucked the shirtless man into her twin sized ratty bed, feeling his forehead. White hot and dry as a desert. He had a fever. Shit. She quickly grabbed him a cool glass of water and two neon orange ibuprofen tablets, watching him in his slumber. He looked so young, so innocent even if she had just met him. She slowly ran her fingers over the dog tags, the imprints unreadable to her. He looked a day over 15, at most. She thought he was somewhat attractive, but his words burned her to the core.
"Serenity." She heard someone slur behind her.
"Nick, go to bed. It's late." Serenity sighed, popping the pills into Scout's mouth.
She looked up when he didn't respond. He had an expression she knew all to well, a look of pure sadness and utter depression. His eyes were no longer emerald green, instead a bloodshot, hazy grey. His hands were shaky, and his mouth twitched slightly.
"Hey!" She cooed, standing up. "It's okay, shh."
She walked up to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He finished the hug, sobbing silently into the crook of her neck. She felt horrible for what he was going through, that pain that clenched his already small heart and crushed it into shreds. He was missing her so bad it made Serenity hurt for him.
"C'mon, you need some sleep. I'll bring you to your bedroom." Serenity grasped his clammy hand, giving him a firm squeeze.
Nick and Serenity had slept together. But not in any other way than sitting together and crying, wrapping their arms around each other for comfort. She was nineteen younger than him, anyways, and he was in love. She was not into the old man.
She led him down to his bedroom, something missing. She felt odd being away from that poor man in her bed. As soon as the mattress came into view, Nick fell down onto it and groaned.
"Nick. You have to change." Serenity groaned, helping him out of his shirt and pants.
She tucked the man into bed, feeling his ragged breath rise and fall as she leaned in his doorframe. She had never felt that kind of love that made it hurt if you were apart. She never had to rely on anyone to make her feel happy. Serenity kissed Nick on the forehead before exiting his room, finally getting some alone time. It was about five thirty in the morning, the sun beginning to peak over the tall mesas of Reno. She could see the outlines of the ruined downtown, the fires and walkers that were mere miles away. It was too late to sleep, and too early to go run to the market just yet. She could probably just wait until Scout left.
She found herself at his bedside once again. What was she thinking, being so close to a madman? He was running from a group that he owed money, after all. He wasn't safe, not at all. She ran her hands lightly across his forehead, now somewhat cooler and dripping with sweat. His fever had either broke or the medicine had temporarily subdued the dangerous combo. She knew that if he had a fever, an infection wouldn't be too far away. Serenity knew that she'd need heavy duty antibiotics that only hospitals had. There was a emergency clinic in the center of Zone Two, but walkers were even more common in the center. They were shipping more immune military geeks in to protect the clinic, but they were long since overdue.
"Miss me, sweetheart?"
Date: December 12th
Location: Geniva, New York.
Desi sat by a crackling fire, warming her now bare hands. She had placed the damp, fingerless wool gloves on a warm stone around the fire, and had started to finally relax. Safe houses were almost eradicated in New York, and she usually settled with abandoned warehouses or small cottages away from danger. She tried not to bring attention to herself, but it was hard with the bitter cold setting in. She had found a sleeping bag in the large warehouse, along with rusted pots and pans. It was good enough for a night, as long as the doors stayed shut. They were large and metal, and she had pushed drums of oil against them to seal out the world.
It was cozy, all by her self in solitude. Sure, she missed her family and boyfriend, but she was always a loner. She idly twirled a switchblade around her cool fingers, running her other hand through her hair. A cool wind whipped through the broken window pains, along with the groans of the dead. She didn't know those sounds could become so normal in her life.
A noise.
Thick, harsh knocking that belonged to a human. Desi's heart stopped, a sinking feeling pulling her down. She didn't want to have another person dragging her down. She was a line hunter, a lone fighter. She got up, barefooted and coat less, and began to push the barrel aside. As soon as she opened the door, the butt of and AK was shoved up her neck.
"What a welcoming sight." Desi sighed, pushing it away.
"Sorry, just makin sure you weren't one of those things."
He looked to be young, his calloused palms holding an AK with a detachable grenade launcher. His hair was slicked back from the snow, a deep auburn color protruding from his scalp. His eyes were the color of coal, and he was definitely quite handy with weapons.
"Here, you look cold. I have a fire, sleeping bags. You can stay with me for the night, if you'd fancy." Desi turned back to look at the crackly fire.
"That'd be awesome, ma'am."
"You don't need to be polite and shit. Call me Desi."
They moved the oil drum back into its place before sitting down. He had immediately pulled off his boots and wool socks. His feet were ragged and bruised, along with large cuts and scratches. Desi eyed him warily as he pulled out a can of beans and placed them over the fire in a pan. She had found a thermos and tea bags, and her water began to boil that she had set twenty minutes ago. She carefully poured the water into the pine green thermos, the steam clouding the air around her.
"Would you like some tea, er-"
"Roland."
"Roland?"
"I'm good, actually. I don't drink tea."
"Oh. Well, after I drink this, I'm going to sleep. So you can do whatever, I guess."
Desi plopped the tea bag into the steamy water, watching as her breath steamed in the air, a shudder running through her. She had taken off her jacket, but she still had a burgundy colored under armor shirt, a light grey sweater, and a pair of thick ski pants, tucked into thick socks. Her boots were resting by the fire, two stones inside of each to warm them. She took a tentative sip of tea, the water scalding her throat. She drank it anyways. She needed warmth and liquid inside her, since the temperature was dropping steadily.
-2 hours later-
Desi didn't know she could get this cold. Her whole body was shaking in the sleeping bag, even through the layers of clothing and the embers that burned in the fire pit. Wind howled outside, bringing in drifts of snow and ice rain. She yearned for that flask of tea, the fire that burned mere hours ago, and warmth. Roland seemed to be doing well, his breath steady and drifting off to sleep. He wasn't quite asleep though, she could tell.
"You're cold?" Roland whispered.
"J-J-Just a ta-ad." Desi chattered.
Desi saw Roland get out of his sleeping bag, and walk towards her. She knew huddling together would make the most sense, but with a complete stranger? All she knew about him was that he was in the army at eighteen and was discharged after a friendly fire incident got him a gsw to the foot. He pulled off his jacket and wrapped it around Desi's cool form before opening the sleeping bag and getting in.
He smelled of spices and snow, along with leather and tobacco. He smelled of her dad's old Pick up truck seats, and it reminded her of home. Before the world had collapsed. She felt his heat envelop her, and her rigid body slowly stopped its shaking. She mentally thanked Roland for doing this for a complete stranger.
Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea letting a stranger join her. Especially this one.