As he edged his way toward the door, Remington at the ready, Boston threw a glance over his shoulder at Cal. The bare-chested Hunter had quickly put his shoes on, and sat crouched on the floor, waiting. Boston's fingers had barely brushed the brass doorknob when the door flew open with a bang and a Hunter clothed in a dark blue hoodie came soaring over the threshold. Boston had barely been able to duck out of the way in time, and the intruder took a passing slash at him as it flew by. There was a howl and a yelp as Cal leaped at his enemy, catching him in the midsection and driving him into the carpet.
"Mine!" the shirtless hunter screamed in the face of his adversary. "No touch!" He punched the feral Hunter straight in the center of its face, and the room echoed with the nasty sound of its nose breaking. Cal grabbed the head of his whimpering foe and twisted it sharply to the side. A second, sickening crack sounded out and the intruder moved no more.
If it hadn't yet cemented in Boston's mind that Cal, now carefully unzipping and peeling the jacket off the other Hunter, was a merciless killing machine, there was now no further doubt. He let the shotgun fall to his side, shaking as his adrenaline high wore off. Over the short course of the drive to the motel and bathing him, Boston had begun to forget that Cal was just as deadly as any of the other infected.
The new jacket, strangely immaculate aside from a few small tears, fit the Hunter nicely. The slain Hunter was a few inches taller than Cal was, but it was a meaningless difference. Cal had protection from light now, and would be useful if a daytime conflict with the infected occurred.
But could Cal really be trusted? Boston had only been around the Hunter for a few, short hours. He had seen him brutally kill a stunned Hunter and mortally wound another. Who's to say that wouldn't happen to Boston? Did Cal's loyalty lie with the human he had just met, or with the infected, whom he had been around for God knows how long?
"Why haven't you killed me?" Boston inquired, his voice cracking. He wanted to believe he had a new ally, but Cal was infected. It wasn't in their nature to work together with others, not to mention working with a human.
The Hunter looked up from inspecting a hole in his sleeve. "Friend," he growled after a moment of thought. "Kill not. Protect." He had a bit of difficulty with vocalizing the two-syllable word, but he shrugged indifferently and returned to inspecting his prize. Boston sighed and supposed he would just have to trust the Hunter. He didn't have a choice in the matter, because the Hunter seemed intent on staying with him. He wondered what the Hunter would do when Boston was evacuated, but he had more pressing matters at the moment: the corpse's foul odor had forced Boston to pull his shirt over his face to keep from gagging. Cal looked up and rolled his eyes at Boston's weak stomach. He grabbed the body by the wrist and dragged it roughly over the threshold. He tossed the filthy corpse into a nearby supply closet like a ragdoll. The Hunter sniffed indifferently and strolled back into the room, sitting cross legged on the carpet and busying himself with comparing the material of his old, bloodied hoodie and his new one.
Boston shut the door, crossed the room and peeked between the blinds. The sun was setting, and the evacuation wasn't supposed to take place until two days from now, if he had kept track of the date correctly. He hadn't had a proper sleep in weeks and it was starting to get to his head.
"Cal," he said, sinking onto the bed as the Hunter looked up, "I'm going to bed. We're heading for the city in the morning, and I'd really like an actual bed tonight, so if you don't mind sleeping on the floor, I'm sure we can find an extra blanket -"
Cal pounced, pulling off his shoes in mid-flight and landing hard on the opposite side of the bed. Boston's face perfectly matched the stains on the white jacket as the Hunter curled up into a ball against him. It was a security mechanism, surely, for Hunters to stay close together while sleeping. It was probably to allow them to stay hidden, Boston reasoned. Even so, he couldn't stop his mind from racing as he closed his eyes and immediately fell asleep.
A pitifully short chapter, I know, but I just wanted to get something out before the weekend hit. I'm planning a big chapter, and I wanted a nice segue from evening to night that shows how Boston's feelings are just starting to blossom. I know, I'm rushing things unnaturally quickly, but it's because I'm terribly impatient. Reviews are read, thought over, and very much appreciated - if you have story ideas, feel free to include them! I'm flying by the seat of my pants here, not really planning more than one chapter at a time. Thanks again guys!