He opened the cupboard above the sink to find that he had run out of both boxed mashed potatoes and powdered milk, even though he thought he still had some. Briefly he rummaged around to see what else he was low on. Cheerios. Canned peaches. He frowned and turned around. El was right behind him, watching.
"Strrrr?" he asked perceptively.
Nick nodded.
Ellis scampered off and brought him his magnum and the plastic basket they had taken from said store. You weren't technically supposed to take them home with you, but that didn't exactly apply during a zombie apocalypse.
"Thanks, El," he said and the kid gave a nod and a smile.
They set out a couple moments later. Ellis happily took the lead, quite familiar with the route. It had been ages since he had used the leash on him– no longer concerned he'd try to get away– and as such, Ellis got plenty of exercise by leaping to the tops of buildings and back down over and over and over. It was pretty impressive to watch, Nick had to admit, he was maybe even a little jealous.
They didn't encounter much on their way over; they rarely did anymore. Seemed the zombies had figured out to avoid the area, either that or months of clearing them out had finally succeeded. Nick wasn't particularly looking forward to moving. Eventually they'd have to, though it was still a good ways off. But he'd grown comfortable with the area, as had El.
The little bell on the door rang as they came in. They rounded up everything they needed in a matter of minutes, then took the time to browse the aisles. "Anything else you want?" Nick asked his compatriot, who was poised at his thigh.
The kid took a graceful pounce over the shelf to his left, and reappeared with a few cans of Alpo. Ellis had recently graduated from raw flesh to dog food of various varieties. As a result, he had also been eating in smaller proportions. Just the other night he actually hadn't finished his second can, and offered the remainder to him– usually it was just the opposite. Nick had humored him and tried the stuff– it wasn't as bad as he thought it would be, but he'd stick to foods that didn't make their own gravy. The hick dropped his additions into the basket.
"Oh, vitamins," Nick mumbled now, wandering over to the section that carried them. Ellis wrinkled his nose. He didn't like taking the little pills, Nick knew, but he insisted daily. There was no way he was getting proper human nutrition out of an all-meat diet. Nick's own preference was the hard tablets, but El took the chewable fruity-gummy ones.
Shopping trip completed, they exited the store and began down the street.
Ellis stiffened.
Nick caught the motion out of the corner of his eye. "What is it, El?" he asked, confused.
The kid gave a sniff and then a tiny whimper followed by a low, long growl. He grabbed Nick by the pantleg and tugged, indicating toward home as he swiftly started in that direction. Nick hurried to keep up with him, magnum at the ready as his eyes darted back and forth.
Then he heard it too.
An ugly, rumbling growl. Under his feet the earth gave a single terrifying tremor.
He dropped the basket. How long had it been since he fought a tank? His brain whirred. Ten months? A year? More than that? It felt like ages. It had been ages. Was he even in shape enough to do this? He cursed himself angrily. He'd gotten lazy and complacent. Reading when he should have been doing some goddamn pushups.
Another rumble as they skirted the sidewalk.
His adrenaline glands sent him a surge without warning and it almost made him gasp with the rush it sent through his blood stream.
Ellis kept motioning him along frantically, but he was already running double-time, he just couldn't keep up with the kid was all.
His brain kept turning. They didn't even have anything to set the fucking thing on fire. That was how they had always taken them out back when. Set it aflame, run like hell, and shoot until you ran out of ammo if you had to. Formulaic. Systematic. His fingers clenched; the fifty caliber weapon in his hands suddenly seeming puny and useless.
Ellis gave a whine and stopped dead in his tracks, yellow eyes lit with fear.
That was when the tank exploded through a building across the street, sending debris flying. It was just like he remembered them. Just as big, just as hulking, just as covered in raw muscle.
Nick's arm snapped up quicker than it had any goddamn right to. He delivered eight shots into the raging creature's legs, aiming for the knees in hopes it might slow the damn thing down.
It didn't seem to care much, transitioning its weight mostly onto its arms. Nick grit his teeth. The head then. He reloaded as he bolted after El, who had gotten far in front of him in the span of a few hurried seconds. He turned to fill its face with lead, firing as fast as he could. The tank roared and responded by chucking a dumpster at him, which came way too close for comfort. He forced another clip into his weapon.
The house loomed up ahead. Not that it would do them any good to get there. It offered no protection strong enough against a tank, not even the metal room. He watched as Ellis seized the door handle in his claws, turning and shoving it inward. If he hadn't been busy, he would've been impressed the kid had managed to work the mechanism. El disappeared inside and Nick unloaded a third time, the sinking feeling that this was getting him nowhere as the tank gained on him, its fists leaving sizable dents in the pavement as it pounded toward him.
The tank seized a manhole cover and flung it at him. He dropped to his knees faster than gravity could take him and felt it fly over his head with perhaps a foot of clearance, embedding itself horrifyingly in the wall behind him. He scrambled to his feet, heart hammering in his chest.
Ellis leapt from the front door, turning a sharp ninety degree angle on his palms, feet skidding. His legs burst into action, bounding towards him as fast as they would go. Nick saw something squarish and grey clenched in his jaws– was that a bottle of Drano…?
Drano burned. A strong base. God, the kid was fucking brilliant.
He turned back to face the tank, unloading again, but now it was all but ten feet from him. He let out a surprised cry, fumbling for the next clip submerged in his pocket.
Ellis launched himself over his head. All at once he saw arms, chest, torso, and legs fly over him, aimed right for the monstrosity. At first it appeared as though the kid had missed his mark, skimming over its shoulder, but his left claw latched itself into right side of the behemoth's neck. The momentum of his pounce swung him around onto its back, and drug his claws through the dead flesh, ripping the length of its collarbone wide open.
That alone would've killed a lesser creature.
Thick dark blood gushed and Ellis tore his right hand into the plastic container of Drano; the liquid poured down the creature's now-gaping throat. The tank's roar turned into a gurgle as the chemical immediately took its toll. It seized Ellis around the middle and flung him hard from its back. The hick's body hurtled through the air and struck the building behind him, rebounding with a wail, his back giving a sickening crunch upon contact with corner that was the roof and eaves. Though he landed on his feet, he quickly crumpled on the sidewalk in a heap.
"Ellis!" Nick's voice cracked in alarm.
The tank screamed and raged and pounded at its own chest, heaving back and forth on its legs, but it didn't last long. A moment later it hit the earth, leaving silence save for the sound of still sizzling flesh.
Nick hurried over to his fallen compatriot, almost afraid to touch him. "El… El please tell me you're alright…" his fingers trembled as he dropped the magnum to the concrete.
The hick gave a groan and blinked his eyes open. Slowly he pulled himself onto his haunches and Nick felt his eyebrows lift. "Easy does it, El," he said soothingly. "Does it hurt?"
Ellis gave another grumble and twisted his spine to the right. It gave a few cracks and Nick shuddered as the hick twisted to the left and it gave a few more. "Fynnnnn," he growled, then his eyes lifted, undoubtedly to see that the bill wasn't obstructing the top of his vision.
Nick snagged the hat from beside him and handed it to him. "You are amazing," he said. "You know that?"
Ellis forced it down onto his head with a huff. "Wlllllkrrm," he said succinctly.
Well, that was pretty saucy for hunter-El. Nick laughed, more relieved than ever. "Yes, thank you," he replied apologetically, well aware that was what the hick was looking for.
The kid perked and stuffed his face into his suit jacket, nuzzling against his chest ferociously. Nick pet him back.
"Let's get our stuff," he said, standing. He eyed the mountain of a body as they passed. "What am I going to do with that?" he wondered aloud and Ellis gave a disgusted snort at it. Usually he disposed of extra bodies so they wouldn't stink and draw anything else, but if he wanted to move the one-ton carcass he was going to have to chop it into smaller pieces.
He blanched at the thought, then noticed out of the corner of his eye that Ellis was nursing a limp, attempting to hide it as best he could. Nick swiveled on his heel and the kid knew he was caught, quickly looking away.
"You are hurt," Nick said, somewhat angrily. He pointed an arm briskly. "Get back to the house."
Ellis whined, eyes growing bigger; Nick narrowed his down. "Now."
The hick shook his head, on the verge of what appeared to be tears.
"I'm fine now," Nick said, sweeping his hands down in gesture at himself as if to assure him. "I'll be back in just a minute. You lie down and keep your weight off it and I'll be back to take a look in a jiffy." He kneeled again, touching the ex-mechanic's face gingerly, thumb brushing just under his eye at the slight wetness there. "You did good, El," he murmured, "I'm fine, okay?" He gave him an encouraging smile.
Ellis nodded and turned to do as he was told.
A definite change from the El of just a few months ago– he had gone from wanting to tear out and eat his insides to willing to risk life and limb for him. Gone from subtle indifference to… what had that been, emotion?
He remembered the first time he had seen Ellis cry. Late one night in a saferoom, after a day where nothing went right, when all of them were battered and bruised and torn up. The hick had sought his comfort, told him all about his family, his childhood.
He recalled that at the time he had been thankful he hadn't had those things to lose.
And then when they and Coach and Rochelle had split ways after the failed evac. That had been the second time he had seen him cry. He supposed now, in retrospect, that they had become like a surrogate family to the kid after all they had gone through together.
He was all the kid had left. Or had had left. Was the current El aware of those old hurts and pains and pines?
He picked up the basket solemnly.
Maybe it was better for El this way.