"How much farther is it to Greensville?" Garrett asked, his voice tight with pain. He would never admit it, but his wounded arm was bothering him. With all the disinfectant Luna had poured on it, there was no chance of it getting infected, but it still hurt like a son of a bitch, and rendered his left arm pretty much useless for the time being.
"If that road sign I saw a few minutes ago was to be trusted, no more than a mile," Luna replied from her position to his right and a little ahead of him. Glancing back at him, her eyes swimming with worry, she said "But we shouldn't try to get there right now. You need to rest - that arm must be killing you."
Garrett shook his head stubbornly, trudging on ahead. "We've wasted enough time already letting this bastard heal. At this rate, anyone left will have died of starvation by the time we get there."
He couldn't see her, but Garrett could hear Luna's light footsteps hurrying to catch up with him, could practically feel her gently reproving gaze as she said "Garrett, I can tell you're in pain. I know you're tough, but exertion is only going to make that arm worse. We need to rest."
Garrett heaved a sigh, then turned and put his good hand gently on Luna's shoulder. "Look, I appreciate your concern. Really, I do. But the last thing we need right now is more goddamn delays. The sooner we find more survivors, the sooner we can get this arm looked at by a proper doctor - or at least someone with more medical experience than we have."
Luna bit her lip in what Garrett thought was an incredibly cute gesture of worry - although that's the last thing he would have told her - but said nothing, merely giving a little nod. Garrett smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring fashion, clapped her lightly on the shoulder, then turned and started walking again.
"Hey, look, there's one we could take!" Luna said, pointing. Garrett followed her finger to a faded yellow four-door in relatively good condition sitting off on the shoulder of the road, its driver door standing open. "Hold on, let me go take a look," Garrett said, slipping his Desert Eagle from its holster and starting forward.
Upon reaching the car, he poked his head in and looked around. The backseat was splattered with blood and one of the back windows had been shattered, but other than that it looked practically untouched. There was even a half-full - but presumably flatter than Kansas - bottle of cola sitting in one of the cupholders.
"Looks good!" he called back over his shoulder, straightening. Luna hurried up to join him, and clambered into the car, ducking her head down beneath the steering wheel. The awkward position, with her head lower than her back, caused her shirt to slide halfway down - or up, depending on which way you looked at it - her stomach. "What the hell are you doing?" Garrett said, in no way staring at the six or eight inches of exposed skin around her midriff. No sir.
"Wait and see," came Luna's reply, a little muffled by the dashboard of the car she had her face under, and Garrett sighed, shifting uneasily and looking around. Whatever she was doing, he hoped she didn't take too long.
Luna slowly pulled her claws over the underside of the steering wheel, feeling three screws hiding the wires inside of the console. One was missing. Maybe someone else had tried...and been caught in the process? Or maybe it came undone on its own. She shuffled a bit to get into a better position and got her claws ready. She'd taken apart toy cars before. A real car couldn't be any much harder.
"What's taking so long, Luna? What are you doing?" Garrett's voice asked above her, turned away possibly to scout the area. She nudged the back of his pants with a foot.
"Patience. I'm not getting this done any faster every time you ask me that." She used the tip of one of her claws to try and unscrew the screw, but it didn't bulge much. She gave a huff. "Garrett, can you do me a favor and see if there's a screwdriver in the glovebox? My claws are too sharp to get good grip."
Luna watched at Garrett turned around and went to move for the other side of the car before she pipped up again. "Just lean over the driver's seat and check." She tried once again, just to make sure her fingers couldn't handle the task on their own. Sure, she could stab through the console, but then wires would be hanging down and that was just plain dangerous, even in a zombie apocalypse. One glance and Garrett had yet to move.
She heaved a sigh and slid out to look up at him. His face had turned a nice shade of red. Maybe the bloodloss was getting to him. She stood up and felt her shirt flutter back down over her tummy. With a final questioning look, she turned and leaned over the armrest, one knee on the driver's seat to steady herself. She picked the lock of the glovebox and popped it open, digging through the empty cigarette packages and tissues.
"There it is!" she said, finding a Philips screwdriver amidst all the mess. She backed out and lost her balance momentarily, backing into the rockstar's body. "Oh, sorry."
"S'okay," Garrett just about whispered, backing up from behind her. A sudden chill ran up her spine as he backed away, but she shook it off, heat painting her cheeks. She dived back under the steering wheel, hastily unscrewing the console. She placed all of the screws in one palm and placed them on the front seat. A brief shadow blocked her light as she shimmied off the cover.
"You know how to hotwire a car?"
"Well, I've read about it a few times." Luna went through the wires, knowing it couldn't be as simple as a red-wire-blue-wire situation. She finally found something that looked right and she peeled the coating off the wires a good few inches before snapping them with a small flick of her wrist. "How much gas is left in the tank?"
He leaned forward, placing his hand on the wheel to glance at the gauge. "Looks like half a tank, maybe?"
She twisted the wires together and went about looking for a third wire to strip. She shifted a bit, the hem of her skirt riding up, allowing the back of her thigh to come in contact with the hot metal. She found the third and stripped it, palms sweating a bit. Slowly, she touched with wires and the car sprang to life, roaring in the silence. She rearranged the wires so they wouldn't touch and end up killing the engine before reaching for the panel to replace it. She twisted the screws back into place and slid out of her spot.
After placing their bags of depleting supplies into the back seat, Luna scurried over to the passenger seat, her skirt catching on the gearshift momentarily before she rolled into the seat.
"Let's see you drive, Garrett."
Garrett glanced at the Witch as he reached over, grabbing at the door handle with his left hand. Pain blossomed in his forearm, and he gritted his teeth, muttering curses under his breath. Twisting awkwardly, he grabbed the door with his good hand and pulled it closed, before setting his good hand on the steering wheel and pressing on the accelerator.
Easing the car back onto the road, Garrett floored it once they were safely off the shoulder, the force of the acceleration thrusting him back into his seat. Luna gasped in surprise, apparently never having ridden in a fast-moving car before, and Garrett smiled a little to himself, reaching up and adjusting the rear-view mirror.
After a long silence, Luna asked "So, Garrett... where are we going, anyway?"
Garrett glanced over at her. "Cleveland, Ohio. My brother Kain's house."
"You have a brother?" Luna queried, tilting her head to the side interestedly. "What's he like?"
Garrett chuckled a little. "He's an asshole," he said, grinning a little. "But... he's a good man somewhere inside. Always has been, even if he never wanted to admit it."
"Hey, Garrett!" Kain called, and Garrett glanced up from his desk, cluttered with pages upon pages of song lyrics and scribbled ideas for band logos. At nineteen, he already had enough muscle on him to stand out, but still had that awkward, gangly look of a man who hasn't quite finished growing yet.
"S'up?" he said, dropping his pen and stretching. His 'big' brother - Kain was an inch shorter than him and much skinnier - stood in the doorway into the garage, leaning against the frame. He was wearing his hunting gear; fall camoflague, with a bright orange safety vest draped over one shoulder. "C'mon, stop writing that shit. You've been sitting in here writing all day - you need some sun," Kain said, reaching up to brush a lock of blonde hair out of his face. The 'pretty' brother, Kain had the kind of smooth, fair features that the ancient Greeks carved statues to immortalize, eyes the color of ice that seemed to shimmer with a light of their own, and hair so smooth and gold it was the envy of half the girls in town.
Walking down the few concrete steps into the garage, Kain draped his safety vest over the back of the spare chair, throwing himself into it. "Lemme see," he said, extending a hand. Garrett reluctantly handed over his latest song lyrics, and Kain read through them, smiling slightly. "'Taint of Gunsmoke? Dark as Night?' What is this shit?"
Garrett gave his brother a light-hearted punch in the shoulder, pushing himself up from the table. "That 'shit' is gonna make me famous one day," Garrett said, snatching the pages of lyrics back from Kain's hands. "Just you wait. One of these days, I'm gonna be going out for a few beers with David Draiman, and you're still gonna be lying on your belly in the dirt, waiting for unlucky deer."
Kain chuckled, standing up and giving his larger brother a clap on the shoulder. "If that day ever comes, I'm gonna be real sorry I never took up your offer of playing guitar. But for now, I'm the one having fun and you're the one sitting alone in your garage scribbling song lyrics on the back of receipts and the margins of books." Nodding towards the door, he said "Come on. I have enough gear to share. Let's go spend some quality 'brother' time."
Luna nodded softly, twiddling her thumbs. That didn't sound much like an ass to her. But who was she to talk? She glanced at the radio and an idea came to mind. She undid her seatbelt and leaned over the armrest and reached at one bag. She pulled it back into her lap in her seat and went digging for contents at the bottom.
"What are you looking for?" Garrett asked.
She found Storm of Lead's second CD, popping open the case and inserting the CD in the compartment. Music began to fill the cabin and she smiled at Garrett's almost stunned reaction.
"You really are a fan, aren't you?" Garrett asked, slowing down to take the off ramp into Greensville.
"I told you, Garrett. Oh, can we stop? I need to..." she paused mid-sentence, the embarrassment of her sudden issue painting her cheeks.
Garrett gave a smirk and pulled up to a gas station. He stalled the engine until it died. "Go on. I'm sure one's inside. Look for a staff restroom, thought. The public ones are shitty, literally."
"Uh, sure."
She opened the door and was about to slide out when Garrett grunted in pain and nearly spat out a curse. She quickly leaned over his waist and unlocked his door, pushing it open so he could slide out. She smiled as he looked into her eyes before her bladder tightened and she just about ran through the doors of the gas station, heading for the back. She finally found the bathroom and sighed with relief.
Garrett blinked, watching Luna's retreating form. The blood loss must have been getting to his head - he felt sure that if the fair-skinned Witch had stayed leaning over him any longer, he would have kissed her.
Shaking his head, he slid out of the car, stretching his legs. At his height, car seats become uncomfortable on the knees rather quickly. Rolling his shoulders, he walked around the front of the car to the gas pump he'd parked next to, staring down at it and frowning in thought. From what he remembered, the gas at this kind of pump only started flowing after you put your credit card in. And, this being an apocalypse, he didn't have a credit card anymore.
Frowning, he turned to look at the built-in convenience store, struck with an idea. Drawing his handgun, he carefully walked towards the doors. Picking his way over the shards of broken glass that littered the floor around the broken and twisted pieces of metal - what was left of the glass doors - he walked towards the counter, surreptitiously peering over it.
"Well goddamn. My plan's working," he muttered to himself, then awkwardly climbed over the counter, landing heavily on the far side. Crouching down beside the corpse of the employee who sat leaning against the back of the counter, Garrett fished around in the dead man's pockets, finally letting out an exclamation of triumph and extracting a leather wallet from the corpse's khaki pants. Muttering "Sorry about that," Garrett climbed back over the counter, holstering his pistol and flipping through the wallet.
Driver's license - apparently the man was named John Carpenter - a few membership cards in various stores' rewards programs, a couple five-dollar bills, and... "Jackpot," Garrett purred, drawing the credit card out. Pocketing the wallet, he walked back to the car, sliding the pilfered credit card into the slot and hitting a few buttons. Hefting the gas nozzle, he turned and flipped up their car's tank cover, stuffing the nozzle into the hole within and pulling the trigger mechanism. The familiar sound of gas pumping into the car greeted his ears, and he smiled, leaning against the trunk of the car.
Then he paused, frowning to himself. They hadn't seen any zombies out here. Not one. Where had they all gone? Looking around, he scanned the horizon for any clues, but couldn't find anything. Maybe they'd been attracted by something? Garrett knew from experience how focused these things could get - if they heard an alarm bell from a mile away, they'd charge towards it in anticipation of a meal.
Shrugging, he started humming to himself, smiling as he thought of Luna and her collection of Storm of Lead CDs. Call him egotistical, but he was a little comforted by the fact that even during an apocalypse, he still had at least one fan.
Luna stepped out of the bathroom, wiping her hands on the sides of her skirt. She peered out of a window and watched Garrett staring at nothing, hose pumping fuel into the car. It seemed surreal all over again. She was on a trip with Garrett Everett. How many girls have dreamt of this moment? How many girls had to bribe and beg to sneak into clubs where he was partying or playing? And here she was, getting it all just about for free. She ran a hand through her platinum hair and realized that she was still staring.
She broke her gaze and curled her fingers. Why was she so embarrassed? She glanced down at a few gas can and an idea came to mind. She gathered five and scurried outside into the chilled air. Garrett heard her and smiled as she approached.
"All finished?"
"Uh...yeah. Here. Found these inside. Maybe we can fill them up, in case we don't have luck to find another station."
Garrett reached over the hood to grab the red containers and their fingers brushed, Luna's claws tangled in the handles for a moment longer than she would've liked. She finally was able to break free, but the electricity in the air made her hair stand up on end.
She stepped back and opened the rear passenger door, pulling out both of the bags. She closed the door back and went around to where Garrett was standing, dropping her main bag to the concrete. She pulled out the second half-used roll of gauze and more salve.
"I need to change the wraps, Garrett. Before they cause you to get an infection." She grabbed at the arm with a tender yet firm grasp and tore the used wrappings with one careful claw. The bloodied gauze dropped to the ground. She opened the salve as quickly as she could before the air had a chance to get into the wound and took a scoop into her hand. Using her palms, she spread the soothing cream over his arm and quickly went about resealing the gashes.
"There we go," she said, the click of the gas flow stopping accentuating her point. She rubbed the wound tenderly and found herself moving closer and closer to the man, just about nose-to-nose with her crush and idol. She looked up into his dark eyes and could see the reflexion of her own orbs in his. "Thanks, Luna," Garrett said, one hand coming up and resting on her cheek. Her blush ran across her face, her breathing just about stopping at the proximity.
Whether it was his stomach or hers, she wasn't quite aware of, but one of them rumbled loud and she took the startling opportunity to back away and take a breath. She snatched up the bags and went about to gather provisions. Up and down the aisles she walked, throwing bags of chips and cans of Ravioli into the bags. She could hear something, maybe Garrett filling all of the cans.
Luna walked back out with a few semi-cold bottles of Sprite and two cans of ravioli. She handed one of each to Garrett over the car hood and pried open her own rather easily, stabbing a few pouches of meat with a claw. Garrett watched her out of the corner of his eye while he closed all of the red containers and stacked them in some sort of order.
"So," Luna asked, wiping her mouth with the edge of her hand, "what do we do from here?"
Wiping his hands on his already-stained jeans, Garrett twisted the top off the bottle of Sprite and took a long pull before speaking. "Now," he said, leaning back against the gas pump and tearing open his can of ravioli, "We make for Cleveland. We have a full tank of gas, we should be able to make it there without stopping as long as our provisions hold out. How much did you get?"
Luna glanced down at the supplies she had gathered, swallowed the ravioli in her mouth and said "Enough for two or three days, if we ration it."
"Perfect," Garrett said, unceremoniously tipping back the can of ravioli and scarfing most of it down. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, he continued "Shouldn't take more than six or eight hours of driving to get there from here, assuming we don't run into trouble. We'll have enough and then some."
Pushing himself off of the gas pump, Garrett gobbled up what remained of his ravioli and washed it down with the rest of his Sprite, chucked the empty containers over his shoulder and popped open the driver door of their car, climbing in. Luna climbed in after depositing their provisions in the backseat, and Garrett eased out of the gas station and onto the highway, flooring the gas pedal once he was safely on the road.
"So," Luna said after a long moment of uncomfortable silence, "You got any other family?"
Garrett shook his head without taking his eyes off the road. "Nope. Father was a cop, died in the line of duty. Friendly fire, of all things. Mother raised Kain and me by herself, but died of cancer several years ago." A small, sad smile graced his lips, and he added "At least she got to see my band once, back when we were still small. Barely more than a garage band."
Garrett fell silent, and the two drove in silence for a long while, both just staring out the windows at the passing scenery. Garrett heaved a sigh, glancing at the trees whizzing past by the side of the road. At least out here in the wilderness, they weren't confronted with as much evidence of the infection. There were no ruined army barricades, no corpses piled against walls or lying scattered through the streets. It was refreshing. Garrett just wished it would stay that way.
The hours crept by much slower than the scenery, leaving the pair the occasional topic of conversation. Even talking of the lack of Infected was only a few minutes long. She stared out of the window, her nails tapping along her thigh. What would she do now? The military was her life. It was her home. Her mother, her father, her closest friend. A small sigh escaped her pale lips.
The endless roads, scattered occasionally with bodies, felt familiar. Almost as if she's been down this road before. She tried to rack her brain for a scene in a book where a couple was on a road trip along a strangely deserted highway, but nothing came to mind. She hated the silence. She hated the tension. It was eating her skin like acid, making her fidget uncomfortably. She shifted in her seat and crossed her legs at her knees, trying not to curl into the seat and cry.
"Luna."
She snapped her head up from her stupor and looked over her shoulder at the driver, who's eyes were still trained on the empty road.
"Hmm?" she asked, her body relaxing at the sudden, hopefully lengthy change in traveling demeanor.
"Do you...remember?" Garrett asked, taking his eyes off the road to meet her gaze.
Luna sat in silence for a second, processing the question. Did she remember...what? She didn't understand. "What do you mean?"
He glanced back at her before facing the road. "Do you remember anything before...well..."
Her heart sank. Before the Infection. Before becoming a Witch. She's had dreams where she looked at someone in a mirror. Someone who moved with her and was just as fascinated by the strange creature on the other side. The doctors had said that it was only a phase, but it happened so many times that it couldn't have been an isolated incident.
It had to mean something. Something more.
"I think...I think I do. But...I'm not entirely sure," she finally whispered
Garrett peered forward at a possible roadblock and started to slow for the off-ramp. "Well...what do you think you remember?"
The door slammed behind her and she finally screamed at the blooming pain in her ankle. The makeshift stake was broken off, jutting out of her ankle and causing her pain.
With a shaky hand, she grabbed the spear head made of stone and took a deep breath to calm her pounding heart. One...two...THREE!
"OOWWWWW!" she screamed, ripping out the weapon and falling back to the dirty floor. Bloodied hands began to pound on the door and mouths filled with remains of faces and intestinal tracts screamed in return, determined to get at fresh meat.
She crawled into the bathroom of the unfortified apartment building and locked the door, making her way into the bathtub to die in peace. A spotty trail of blood marked her desperate travel, and tears began to blur her vision.
The next thing she could remember, she was numb all over and her leg was wrapped up. She rolled her eyes a few times and tried to place where she was. Instead of the cold linoleum where she had passed out, she was on a soft comforter, swaddled in warmth
There was a bottle of water and a few pills on the nightstand, situated on a note that read TAKE US. Would she be one to listen to an anonymous note? Still, she rolled over and popped the pills in her mouth, chasing them down with a swig of warm water.
Almost immediately, her stomach churned and she threw off the covers, stumbling to her feet and rushing for the bathroom across the room. She threw her face into the toilet bowl and wretched up the contents of her stomach. Oh, how much her head hurt. She waited until she was sure nothing else would rush up and out of her throat before rising to the sink and swishing a few scoopfuls of water in her mouth to wash away the acidic taste.
Finally, after a few minutes of staring down the sink, she looked up and froze. The mirror was cracked up higher, and the lighting wasn't very good, but it had very little effect on the image that faced her. She had short brown hair, cropped at her ears messily. Her eyes were just as brown, blending in with her black pupils.
Her skin was tan from constant sun exposure. She touched a scar on her neck and a voice startled her. "Welcome back, Luna.
"My name isn't Luna," she found her...reflection saying. She still couldn't believe it was her.
"Yes it is, child. It always has been." She turned to face the voice and could only see a shrouded visage. A large hand was extended. "Come with me."
Her arm raised without her thought and she placed her fingers along the palm. The larger digits curled around hers and pulled her into the light and warmth.
"And that's all I can recall. I only have these things while I'm asleep, so I can't tell what's real and what's not."
Garrett nodded and cut the engine in front of a hotel. "Guess we should head inside. The sun should be coming down soon."
Walking up to the reception desk, Garrett clambered over it and bent down, snatching up two room keys from under the desk. Straightening, he tossed one to Luna - who, after a moment of confused panic, caught it - and turned, heading towards the stairs. He'd gotten them rooms on the second floor, for extra security just in case infected showed up.
The door into the stairwell was barred from the other side, and Garrett grunted in frustration. He didn't want to do this, because it might attract any zombies in the area, but it was much safer off the ground, so he really had no choice.
Bringing a booted foot up, he slammed it into the door with all the force his powerful thigh could muster. The board snapped clean in half with one kick, and the door crashed inwards, shaking a cloud of dust from the ceiling. Casting an apologetic glance back over his shoulder at the affronted-looking Luna, Garrett stepped into the darkened stairwell, slipping his flashlight from his belt and flicking it on.
The dull circle of wan golden illumination flicked around as Garrett scanned the area for any threats. Finding none, he started up the stairs, which creaked and groaned beneath his weight. When he reached the door to the second floor, he pushed it open, stepping out into the hallway. Then he blinked in surprise, looking up and down the corridor. The lights were on.
How the hell did this place had power? It had been... hell, Garrett didn't even know how long it had been since the infection had struck. All the power stations had failed long ago, and everyone's private generators had run out of gas not long after that. Which meant that someone had to be alive around here... or, at least, had to have been alive not long ago.
"Careful," he whispered over his shoulder, starting forward down the hall towards their rooms. Turning his flashlight off and sliding it back into its proper place at his hip, he drew his gun, looking up and down the hallway. He didn't want any surprises.
They found the rooms relatively quickly, and Garrett unlocked his, stepping inside and flipping on the light switch. Light flooded the room, and Garrett smiled a little, his heart soaring. Little things like light, heat and running water might not have meant much back before the infection, but now... now they were like blessings from heaven.
Stripping off his jacket and shirt, he tossed them over the back of a chair, stretching and flexing his thickly-muscled arms to get the kinks of travel out. Stepping into the bathroom, he stared at his reflection in the mirror, running his hands through his greasy, uncombed hair. The infection had only improved his powerful physique, but had done nothing for his face or hair. Smeared with dirt, blood, and other substances that didn't bear thinking on, with his hair a tangled, horrific mess that clung to his neck like seaweed.
Grimacing, he undid his belt and kicked his jeans off. He was going to take a shower, and then he was going to sleep in a real bed for the first time in he didn't know how long. And he was going to love every minute of it.
Garrett staggered backwards, stars exploding in his vision and pain blossoming outwards from his broken nose. Ducking out of the way of a second punch, he got his assailant in a crude armbar, twisting them around and throwing them to the ground. A booted foot smashed into his chin, and Garrett lurched back, clutching at his aching jaw.
His attacker sat up, and Garrett's heart froze as he got a good look at his foe. It was none other than himself - or rather, the 'other' him from his dream. The Other-Garrett grinned, revealing pointed teeth, and purred "Hello again, Garrett. You didn't think you'd seen the last of me, did you?"
"Fuck you," Garrett snarled, dropping into a fighter's crouch. The Other-Garrett laughed, a bone-chilling sound that sent shivers up Garrett's spine. "Please," the Other-Garrett drawled, lackadaisically getting to its feet, "You can't fight me. I'm you, remember? Just the side of you that you'd rather not remember."
Then someone screamed, and Garrett looked around for the source of the sound. It was hauntingly familiar... if only he could place that voice...
The Other-Garrett grinned. "Sounds like sleepy-time's over, big boy. You'd better go, if you don't want your pretty little friend to end up redecorating her hotel room a lovely shade of red. Don't worry... I'm not going anywhere." The scream came again, louder this time...
...and Garrett jerked upright in bed, lurching up and forwards in the same motion, grabbing his gun of the bedside table and rolling out of bed in the same motion. Powered by fear and adrenaline, he charged to the door that separated his room and Luna's and slammed into it in a running shoulder tackle. The latch broke, the door banging inwards and Garrett stumbling in after it. The sight that met his eyes wrapped icy fingers around his heart.
Luna was lying on the bed, dressed in nothing but her undergarments, with a hideous beast straddling her. It looked like the bastard offspring of a hunter and a spitter, hunched over and with the kind of thin, razorblade strength that you only see in martial artists or rapiers. Its claws were a little longer than a hunter's, glimmering in the moonlight, and Garrett felt sure that its face was going to haunt his nightmares for a long time. Its jaw was horribly distended, much like a spitter's, with acidic goo dribbling from the cracks beneath its razor fangs. Its nose was gone, torn off and leaving nothing left but an old scar, and its eyes were blood-red and burned with animalistic rage.
Raising his gun, Garrett barked "Luna! Off the bed! Now!"
The witch complied, rolling to the side as the beast's claws flashed down, vivisecting her pillow. Luna hit the floor and started scrabbling away, and Garrett squeezed the trigger. His large handgun roared, and the beast lurched backwards, blood exploding from its shoulder. Its head whipped around to stare at this new target, and Garrett fired again, taking the foul thing in the middle of its forehead. Pitching backwards, the creature fell off the bed and disappeared from view, although Garrett could hear hissing and bubbling as its acidic goo ate away at the floor.
Garrett leaned against the wall, breathing hard, and when he looked down he noticed that Luna was staring at him. Fixedly. A crimson stain was spreading across her cheeks, and when Garrett looked down he realized he was wearing nothing but his rather worn black briefs, which left not a whole lot to the imagination. Heaving a sigh, he reached down and hauled Luna to her feet, turning her until she pointed towards his room and giving her a gentle nudge. "Come on," he grunted, "I don't want another incident like this. You're sleeping with me." When she cast him a furtive glance somewhere between horror, embarrassment and nervous excitement, he rolled his eyes and amended "Next to me."
Luna's eyes shot open, her body trembling from the nightmare. She still couldn't get the morbid image out of her mind. A monster with the agility of a Hunter and the stomach content of a Spitter. She tried to remember what caused her carelessness, but nothing valid came to mind. She was trained to always be alert. To always be aware. What if she hadn't screamed as loud as she did? What if that...thing hadn't stood over her, slack-jawed and fixated on her eyes? She remembers that she couldn't look away, that she couldn't break the gaze with the empty eye sockets that followed her no matter what direction she turned.
The Witch eventually rolled over and a squeal flew from her lips as she pushed herself back away from the breathing form facing her. Her back hit the wall not even a good six inches behind her and she stared at the figure.
Black hair, slick with water with a scent that lingered in the air. A clean, yet unshaven, face seemingly at peace with itself. Her claws, which she had wrapped around her knees, uncurled from around her form and one fell on the visage before her. She left a feathery touch as she glided her digit across his face.
"Garrett?" she whispered, her heart suddenly thudding.
The body stirred and the eyes opened, pupils quick to adjust to the lighting. He yawned, pulling his muscular arms from under the sheets to stretch.
He blinked a few times in her direction before realizing what he was seeing. "L-Luna? What are you do-"
He cut himself off and tore himself from the bed, quick to grab his pants and throw them on hastily.
"You don't remember last night?" Luna inquired, pulling the covers to the side so that she could stand beside her savior.
Garrett muttered, "I remember," but didn't make eye contact. He grabbed his shirt and jacket and went to the door. "Go get dressed. We're leaving. Now."
Luna scrambled back into her room, trying hard not to look at the remnants of the corpse that lay in her room. She stepped into her skirt and zipped it in the back, finding her shirt and pulling it over her head. A pair of suitcases were unzipped in one corner and she ventured a peek inside. Ammunition. Weapons. Clothing. "Garrett, think I found us some supplies!"
The rocker stepped in, his face a mask of stone, and he took a peak himself. She saw him toss some of the work shirts to the side before zipping the first bag and taking a peak in the second. Mainly, there were books. Some health products, but otherwise, nothing of use.
"You want this stuff, Luna? I know you love to read and all that..."
"Uh, sure." Luna walked back over and placed the work shirts inside the secondary bag, sure that they would provide her with something to wear if she ever needed it. They each grabbed a suitcase and a bag and trudged back down the stairs, alert for any unexpected company, before making it back outside to where the car still stayed. Luna took ten minutes to make sure that the connection was still strong with the battery before they took off back for the highway and his brother's house. Curiosity was getting the better of her. She wanted to know so much about the older Everett, questions were flooding her mind.
"Tell me about him, Garrett."
"Who? My brother?"
"Yeah. You said he was an ass. Tell me why."
Garrett sighed and took a turn to avoid a Common who was wandering on the eight-lane road. "Rather not."
"Okay. What do you think that...thing was?" she asked, trying to keep her voice from cracking.
"Hell if I know. Never seen anything like it before."
Luna swallowed hard. She'd heard of other Infected. Other Specials in other regions, but...
"Think the military has anything to do with it?"
"Doesn't look like something they would do. But what the hell do I know? Could be a failure. Could be a deranged success."
Luna nodded. She's seen things like that with her comrades back at the base. Maybe they would run into the ARMY again. A cold shiver ran up her spine. Raven...she could feel it in her blood. The elder Witch was still alive. The thought made her antsy, and she couldn't help but to look into the backseat, as if she would see something. Nothing out of the ordinary caught her eye, so she turned back around.
"Looking for someone?" Garrett asked, glancing back himself in the rear view.
"Hope to God not. Let's just get to your brother's. I'll feel better when we're in a fortified house."
Garrett sat in the car for a long time after they stopped, listening as the bass growl of the engine slowly died away. Now that they were here... he wasn't sure he wanted to go through with this. He and Kain had parted on... not so great terms, and re-opening that wound was sure to cause quite a bit of friction.
"Garrett?" Luna asked from the seat next to him, causing him to glance over at her. "Are we gonna go or what?"
Heaving a sigh, Garrett mustered his courage, and said "Yeah. Yeah, we are." Opening the door, he hopped out, retrieving his sack from the backseat and throwing it over one shoulder. Closing the door, he turned and looked around, drinking in the familiar sights.
Cleveland, Ohio. His hometown. "Y'know," Garrett mused, standing in the middle of the street and staring around at the desolation all about him, "I had a lot of firsts in this town. First band concert, first kiss, first autograph I signed for someone, first drink of alcohol, first fuck, first driving ticket, first jail sentence... fuck, I don't think I had a single first outside this town!" Pausing, he added "Well, except for first zombie kill."
When Luna made no reply, he took a deep breath and started forward. Their old family house was right at the end of the road, and as Garrett drew near he whistled in appreciation. Somebody - probably Kain - had turned their home into a goddamn bunker; crude wooden barricades had been erected all around the property, the downstairs windows had been boarded up and covered with tarps, the upstairs windows had been turned into firing slits, and there was concertina wire everywhere. The front yard was a mess of gore and bodies, and Garrett picked his way carefully through them, walking up to the front door.
"How the hell are you supposed to do this kind of thing in a fucking zombie apocalypse?" Garrett muttered, then sighed. "Ah, to hell with it." Reaching up with one large fist, he rapped on the door three times.
For a long time, there was silence. So long, in fact, that Garrett worried Kain wasn't even in there, and considered leaving. Then, so abruptly that Garrett flinched backwards a little, the door swung open.
Standing in the doorway was none other than Kain Everett. A good four inches shorter than his brother and much thinner than the musclebound rockstar, Kain still managed to dominate the small gathering through sheer charisma and physical presence. There was an air about him that few people have, an air of calm, suave surety the kind of which is normally only seen in master con artists or members of royalty.
Garrett's eyes tracked up Kain's torso, the thin but toned surfer body beneath the white wifebeater and camo-pattern jacket, the hunting rifle slung over one shoulder, to the all-too-familiar face. He had never lost the smoothness of youth, his features still looking like a Greek statue of Hermes, save for a single new scar. Running from his forehead to the left side of his mouth, it had barely missed one eye, but the mostly-healed pink line somehow only accentuated his good looks, a counterpoint to the otherwise flawless complexion.
Kain was idly chewing a stick of gum, but his jaw paused mid-chew as his eyes fell on his guests. His eyes widened in disbelief, and he reached up, brushing a lock of his long, straw-blonde hair out of his face - a nervous tic that Garrett knew very well. For several long seconds, awkward silence dominated the scene, and then Kain said, voice barely above a whisper, "...Garrett?"
Garrett managed a slight smile. "Hello, brother."
Sydney Brooklyn ran her perfectly painted nails though her wet blonde hair and gave the full-length mirror a kiss.
"Every day, just as beautiful as Eris the goddess," she purred to herself, ignoring the loose towel around her large assets. If it fell, she wouldn't bother to pull it back up to cover herself. Not as if Kain was bothered by her racetrack figure. She loved jumping him in the nude, because it meant she wanted to fuck and she wanted to fuck now.
"Kain, baby doll," she called through the house, her towel sinking lower and lower down the curvature of her breasts, "where's my sexy man?"
Suddenly, there came a loud knock. She sighed in anger and gave a grumble. Dammit, she was determined to ride him on the couch with her young body. Maybe once they shoo away these pesky survivors. She could hear the door open, but not the rapid-fire of Kain's speech as he would tell the intruders off.
"Who is it, baby?" she asked, stepping into the upstairs hall. She thought better on just walking into the open in a damp towel, so she draped her satin robe over her shoulders, tying it at her twenty-inch waistline.
She went to the staircase and froze, blue eyes wide. Well well well. Look what the dog dragged in. A sly smile grew on her beautiful face and she sauntered down the stairs, one hand constantly on the banister.
"Garrett! Long time no see!" she said with faux joy, wrapping her arms around her ex and pulling him in for a long hug, grinding her nipples against his chest. "I see you haven't changed much. Still bringing home animals, I see," she sneered, darting her eyes at the shy creature behind him. "Aren't you going to introduce me?"
Garrett finally was able to break away, a deep frown on his face. "Hello, Sydney. I see you haven't changed much either." He looked over his shoulder and reached a hand around to lead his guest into the light.
Sydney almost couldn't contain her reaction. It was one of THEM! Those MONSTERS! She didn't know where to call the rocker a stupid fuck or to laugh in his goddamn face. Instead, she went over to her beau and clung to him as if he would leave. Her blue eyes ran down the tamed crystal locks and the fair skin down to the blood-stained claws. Garrett found himself a real piece of shit, and from the way she was behaving, all shy and whatnot, she wasn't going to be much of a threat.
Garrett began to speak, but Sydney cut him off. "Sydney Brooklyn-Everett. Nice to meet you..."
"L-Luna," the monster mumbled shyly, retreating behind the meat wall.
"Isn't she adorable?" Sydney cooed, nuzzling the side of Kain's face. "Aren't you going to invite them in, baby doll?"
Kain nodded, and the Immune pair took three steps back, giving the brother and his...pet room to walk in. Sydney's eyes followed the other woman with interest. Wonder where he found this one. She went to the front door and closed it behind her, turning back with a smile.
"What have you been up to, Garrett? I want to hear ALL about it."
