"Can you put that thing OUT, Fisk?"
The older black gentleman waved the smoke out of his face, his lips curling back in pure displeasure.
The thin, tall, black-haired and sallow skinned man dressed in a store clerk's outfit said nothing; all he did was merely smile a yellow-toothed grin as he blew another puff in the direction of the aged man's face. "Fuck you man, it's the apocalypse." Fisk finally snarled, putting the cigarette back toward his lips and taking a puff. "I think I'm entitled to it." Each word Fisk said released some of that vile bitter smoke further into the air. If he was miserable, everyone else was going to be. Even kind old black dudes.
The older gentlemen stood back and gave him an incredulous look, placing his hand on his hip, and the other up, pointing a finger and gesturing as if lecturing a child. "Apocalypse or not, we all got to breathe the air here." The man reached down and took the cigarette from between his lips, held it up to Fisk's face and shook it, sending a bit of ash floating to the floor near one of his white sneakers. "Smoking kills you know." Fisk merely glared at him; he didn't need to be lectured by fucking Uncle Ben here.
He watched as the old man threw the cigarette on the floor and stomped it out with his heel.
"Right, thank you for that interesting lecture Jerald, it's not like I was AWARE or anything." He growled. He sat firmly on the ground, leaning against the side of a parked car while Jerald paced steadily in front of him and eventually wandering off to talk to one of the coordinator's of this shindig. This fucking evacuation point was a useless waste of time. They were all fucked anyway. Things were happening- major things and Fisk had other plans that didn't involve standing here waiting for the inevitable. He certainly didn't want to die dressed in that red cashier outfit and retarded green apron. He also didn't want to die with this sorry bunch of buzz kills. Dying in general was a terrible idea.
He and the group he was with had been there ever since the first person decided to up and lose their shit and try to eat everyone. In fact Jerald, the old guy, had been Fisk's hundredth something customer of the day when CEDA up and evacuated the joint just as the teeth started gnashing. They had been loafing around this dumb checkpoint for what felt like days with Jerald trying to make friends with everyone he met. The group started with just him and the old fart, but soon grew to consist of Leo, a nerd who wouldn't shut up about zombies, and Tessa, a middle-aged woman in a business suit who looked like she'd been rode hard and put away wet. Fisk thought she smelled like cat piss. It was awfully embarrassing.
Fisk couldn't see the point in Jerald being so friendly anyway. Being friendly in these situations meant being attached, which meant it would totally suck if you died, which you were going too. That was why he only ever gave anyone his last name and had removed his shop-mart name tag from his shirt. First names were for dead people. Fisk had seen the movies. He knew what to expect. He was not planning on dying quite yet.
God, He could use another smoke.
Digging in his back pocket he attempted to fish out his cigarettes. Slowly he removed the pack and looked over, eyes trailing over the surgeon general's warning before he flipped it open. He grimaced. Damn, he hadn't noticed how low he was. There was only about four remaining in the pack, and absolutely no chance at anymore for the time being. He gently smacked his head against the car door out of frustration. Oh. Lovely. Stuck with a bunch of assholes and no cancer sticks. 'Just beautiful.' He thought as he closed his eyes, quietly listening to the conversations from their little happy fun time friend-ship that Jerald set sail. He kind of hoped he found himself on the wrong end of one of them crazy ass zombie folk soon.
He wasn't sure if he could take this anymore.
His eyes fluttered open again just as a fat dumpy kid with gelled spikey hair and a zombie themed sweatshirt decided too occupy his space alongside him. "Hey!" the potato-esqe college kid chirped with enthusiasm, his eyes looking over Fisk as if he may, just maybe, have a chocolate bar on his person. Fisk looked up and prayed to whatever deity seemed best before responding. "Can I assist you…whatever your name is…?" he drawled in his heavy Philly accent, letting out a rough cough before turning to look over at the intruder. Might as well try to deal with this with some dignity.
"It's Leo!" McLardass said beaming widely from ear to ear. Fisk knew his name, He didn't need a reminder, and he simply just did not care. Leo continued yammering, "So are you doing ok? I heard like the reports" Ok…somewhat tolerable, "Its so INTENSE isn't it?" Yes he supposed so, "ACTUAL ZOMBIES" No shit Sherlock. He rolled his eyes as Leo kept on talking about current events. He tuned him out easily until something about Fisk himself popped out of the boy's mouth.
"Oh! You have gauges!"
He disliked the personal nature of the conversation. Why did what he did with his own ears matter to this jabbering ape? He was thirty years old. He was a big boy, and he did big boy things like minor body modification. "I like your gauges, whoa I'm glad they aren't like freakishly big!" Shut up, "I was thinking of doing that myself but" No seriously, shut up." I TOTALLY could not deal with the pain." Oh my god he would not shut up, "Black looks awesome though! " Fisk was done with this conversation, his patience already worn thin enough as it was from just sitting there. "Did you consider other colours, or was black just your thing?"
Fisk reached up to cover his ears, hiding his choice in jewelry away from Leo's prying eyes before giving the dumb fucker a dirty look. "You know, I don't care." He snapped, "Go play in traffic or something, or better yet! Why don't you go find a zombie to fuck with since you think they are so cool." Fisk spat on the ground, dropping his hands from his ears and looked toward the crowd, averting his eyes away from the blubbery figure of Leo.
If he couldn't see the problem, it wasn't there.
Leo backed off instantly and muttered dejectedly " You could be at least a little more friendly." He heard Leo slink against the car, his head hitting it with a thunk. Fisk winced at the noise, "Kid, I'm going to be honest. I'm not interested in chatting with you." He looked over and poked Leo roughly. "I don't talk to fat fucks." He pulled his hand away after landing that verbal blow and continued watching the crowd.
Leo made a slight noise as he tried to speak up in his defense, however Fisk couldn't hear what Leo was going to say, as Tessa decided to butt in. She stood nearby, arms crossed, her straight blond hair hanging loosely around her face. "You really could be just a little more friendly dear." She said curtly, her ruby red lips curled up in a sneer, "We are all miserable standing here, no need to make it worse." Fisk said nothing; all he did was lift up one hand and flip the bird at the old bat. She scoffed mortified by his gesture, as people of her age often were. She was not taking it in stride. "You IGNORANT piece of TRASH." She charged forward, her high-heels clacking on the street.
Fisk merely stood up from where had been sitting, easily towering over the angry woman with his naturally freakish height, he looked fairly intimidating and boy did he know it. His height was always his advantage in circumstances like this; he wondered how long it'd take for her to back down. Leo cowered in his seat, scratching his head and looking over at Jerald hoping he would take notice before something happened. It looked as if Jerald was a bit preoccupied with something else considering he was talking with one of the evac coordinators, which suited Fisk just fine.
"You've been sitting there for the past two hours and doing NOTHING but making that Kid, Me, and Jerald COMPLETELY miserable." God her voice was irritating, high pitched and shreiky like a harpy. "Between your filthy smoking habits, and anti-social behavior, I really hope they get us loaded up and out of here soon because I DO NOT want to be near you any FURTHER." She poked a finger into his chest, her nail digging into his shirt. It kind of hurt a bit. Tessa continued her tirade, "So SHUT UP, because I AM NOT in the MOOD for your BULLCRAP." She stamped a foot carefully so as to not break a heel, as well as to emphasize her point. 'That was such a childish gesture' he noted.
Fisk merely bit his lip and smiled stupidly. '"Whatever bitch." He snorted, glaring down at her and crossing his arms. "I can be as miserable as I want to be, 'cause you ain't likely to last much longer ANYWAY." He stepped forward menacingly but she stood her ground, eyes fixed firmly on his own and frowning intensely. His voice rose, "You think I like sitting here staring at your orange painted ass, twiddling my thumbs and waiting for everything to go to hell?" He pointed at the crowd. "You realize we likely ain't going NO WHERE considering the fucking circumstances?" He stopped in the middle of his rant to cough heavily into his sleeve. Afterwards, He tried to regain his composure of menace, but that failed so he then proceeded with his rant. " You fuckwits are complete strangers, I don't OWE you my kindness, and I sure as hell don't owe anyone anything if the fucking dead are up and walking." He got into her face, lips pulled back in a snarl as he made his final point. "YOU MEAN NOTHING TO ME."
"What's the problem over here?" Jerald asked, his voice commanding and making Fisk lose his focus, "I leave you three alone and everything gets all rough and tumble." Jerald frowned, lifting an eyebrow in Fisk's direction. Fisk looked away and said nothing, he merely felt satisfied in the fact he had said what he'd wanted to say for the last hour. He turned now to face the elder man, narrowing his brown eyes. "It only goes downhill from here old man, you can try to be friends, you can try to play it nice but everything is following different rules now." Fisk ripped off his apron and tossed it on the ground pointing his finger into Jerald's calm passive face. "I won't be nice about THIS…you ain't going to survive this, it only gets worse from here."
They heard the masses screaming first, Then the snarls and shrieks.
It hadn't taken the universe long to prove Fisk correct.
Tessa and Jerald looked around as Leo slowly got up from his seated position. The group froze and stared. The crowd that had been full of perfectly normal people had abruptly been overrun out of the blue by the walking dead, and they were right at the edge of it.
Fisk froze, regretting his words from just moments before. Now was not the time to die. If he was going to die, Fisk had decided he'd rather it not be here.
"Run." He whispered, the other three looked at him with fear frozen on their dipshit faces. "I SAID FUCKING RUN." Were they stupid? He enunciated as clearly as he could, why didn't they listen to him? He grabbed Leo by his jacket's hood and threw him ahead, which caused the boy to instantly pick up the pace and sprint off at a dead run. 'Who knew he had it in him' mused Fisk before turning his attention to the horde that was barreling down upon them with the force of a train and plenty of gnashing teeth to boot. The other two ran behind Leo. Fisk stood, staring the oncoming horde down before taking off to catch up with the others.
They had to find safety, weapons, something to help their survival…. and fast.