Municipal Wasteland 7

000

Taggart trotted along beside Liam's legs like a bad parody of a faithful dog. The two had been wandering the streets for the last two hours, shoving passed some commons and avoiding fellow specials. They hadn't run into any survivors since Liam's encounter that morning, but from the near-constant thundering of gunfire, they got the feeling it was probably for the best.

During their walk, the two had seen a trail of dead infected, bodies riddled with bullet holes and lacerations. Some hadn't even been whole; there were a lot of ashy-smears across the pavement and bits of scattered shrapnel. Shit, the humans were carrying bombs, too? Not to mention all the charred corpses they'd seen…

Taggart didn't want to think of ending up like that, and gnarled and rotting in a ditch. He may have been a hunger-driven zombie, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to be smart about it. He wondered if Liam had thought about any of this during their stroll through the gauntlet of bodies – walking or otherwise.

"Hey kid, that corpse looks like you," Liam finally spoke, jabbing a long finger in the direction of a body, slowing some like he wanted to get a better look.

Taggart opened his mouth to tell the other to fuck off, but then he saw what Liam had meant. This particular corpse lay with its limbs tossed around it haphazardly, almost like it was doing a sort of comical backstroke in its own massive puddle of blood. That wasn't it, though; the legs sticking out from the ends of the body's shorts were thick and coiled with muscle and readied tendons. Its hands, ending in predator-claws, were calloused and roughed up on the palm sides. The eyes were hidden beneath the dark shadow of a shredded hood, but its bloodied mouth shows two rows of shark-like teeth.

The hunter stared at the other, sniffing it some and pawing at it. "Shit, dude," he muttered. He looked up at Liam. The smoker's face was unreadable. "I didn't think there'd be like a… like a species sort of thing going on."

Liam just shrugged and scratched at his stomach. He stepped over the hunter-corpse and started walking again.

"Hey," Taggart took one last look at the body before bounding along behind his lover, "You think there's some more infected that are like you? All tumor-skinned and reeking of rot and cigarettes?"

A barely-there grin crept onto the clearer side of Liam's face, "With any luck, there are." At the questioning look on the small one's face, he continued, "I don't wanna be the only ugly motherfucker here."

Taggart snorted a laugh and shook his head.

000

If you asked him, Taggart would swear this was at least the twentieth convenience store they'd come across since starting their walk, and at least the twentieth they'd broken into looking for cigarettes.

"What makes you think those stupid things're even gonna be in there? All the other places were looted," the hunter rolled his eyes as Liam stepped through the former window, but followed behind him anyway.

"Billionth time's the charm, right?" Liam grumbled, slipping around a few shelves and heading to a counter in the back. While he went in that direction, Taggart stopped in the candy aisle to see what treats were left. He wouldn't enjoy them like he used to if he did bother to eat them, but he couldn't help wanting to see what was there.

He was rifling through a box of his favorite grape-flavored gum when a sudden laugh startled him. He perked his ears and dropped the box, trotting over to where still chuckling-coughing Liam slipped over the counter. Behind said counter was surprisingly loaded down in a variety of cigarettes.

Taggart popped up behind the front side of the counter, his hands and chin resting atop the smooth surface. "What the hell, how'd you get so lucky?"

Liam grabbed some lighters and about five or six packs of his chosen brand and then stuffed some into his pockets. He put the last few items in front of Taggart, "Dunno. Put these in your pocket for me." He side-stepped the counter and patted the hunter on the shoulder, going for the window he'd entered from.

The hooded one gave another roll of his eyes, but he did shove the packs and lighters into his own free pockets. He pushed himself away from the counter and hurried after the retreating heels of his companion.

"I can't believe we spent that long on a goddamn search-and-rescue mission for cigarettes," Taggart mumbled.

"Your point?"

"My point is what's the point? You can't even breathe normally, anyway!"

The smoker kicked lightly at the hunter's side and said, "Nothing wrong with me liking the idea of cigarettes."

"What, trying to get some of that old normalcy back?" the little one snorted.

Liam didn't falter, stuffing a cancer stick in between his teeth, "Yeh, actually. Now, light this one up for me."

Taggart stumbled at the first part of the answer but regained himself quickly. He reached into a pocket and fished out a blue lighter, crawling up the front of Liam 'til he was standing. He put the flame to the tip of the cigarette and watched a plume of gray smoke slither out of his lover's chapped mouth.

Fuck. That was actually pretty hot…

"Rude to stare, buddy," Liam almost purposely purred around his cigarette, catching the glint in his counterpart's milky eyes.

"Don't get me started, dude," Taggart growled, eyes still on that mouth. He pushed the lighter back into a pocket and backed off the taller male, trying to ignore the virulent blood heading to his groin.

Liam only smirked, falling in step along side his flustered friend. They were silent as they rounded a corner at the end of the block.

The two nearly leapt three feet in the air as gunfire sounded and a bullet ricocheted at their feet, scattering chips of busted pavement at them. They snapped their heads up and saw three survivors taking aim and firing in their direction. A stray bullet tore into the muscle of Liam's shoulder and he bellowed at the pain.

"Fuckin' sonuva -!" Liam clutched at his oozing arm shoulder and snapped his jaws open to unravel his tongue. He stopped when he felt himself being roughly hauled back behind the corner. He looked up and saw Taggart already scaling the side of the building, heading for the high rooftop.

His climb up was clumsy and awkward with his newly injured shoulder, but he made haste as bullets smacked into the bricks around him. He felt one graze at the tip of his ear and almost laughed at that small bit of luck. When he reached for the edge of the roof, Taggart snatched at his grasping arm and hauled him up over it into his lap.

Scattered ammunition still peppered the cement and brick for a few more moments before it ceased. They could hear the survivors still talking amongst themselves and their echoing footsteps as they took off down the street, firing occasionally at some common that had come to inspect the ruckus.

Liam had forgotten about the pain in his arm until Taggart had accidently gripped too tightly onto him. He snarled and snapped at the other man and felt the hold instantly release. "Easy, man, sorry," Taggart held his hands up in submission, his blond brows knit together.

"It's fine," Liam hissed as he moved out of the hunter's lap. He clumsily unbuttoned his shirt enough to peel part of the garment off his injured shoulder. The blackish-blood was already clotting and pus was beginning to line the laceration, feeling some relief that the bullet had only done that much rather than imbed itself into him.

"There anything we can do for it?" Taggart had backed up from him some, obviously a little uncomfortable from that slight outburst.

"No. Just let it heal up like it's doing now," he pulled the shirt back up over the shoulder and began buttoning it again. "This thing kinda did," he nodded at the opposite shoulder where the bite mark that had infected him sat in a black, rotten ring.

Taggart crept just a little closer and sat down, eyeing the bloodied, torn area warily. "So… if we're zombies, how come we're feeling all this pain and shit? Ain't we supposed to be, like, numb?"

"Did you ever think that maybe we aren't zombies? Maybe we're just virus-fucked super-humans or mutants?" Liam asked with a quirked brow. He sighed when Taggart's expression molded into a confused one. "Maybe those little guys down there, the… retarded ones, or whatever they are, are the zombie ones while we're somehow above that? Whatever the hell it all is, I'd just like to think we're all infected."

Taggart shook his head and lie down, his form dog-like, "Never seen anything like this in the movies…" He said it more to himself than to Liam. The other man playfully cuffed at him, saying, "You need to get all that Hollywood bullshit out of your head, kid."

"Yeh, whatever," the smaller one smiled some as he set his upper half into Liam's lap. He nuzzled into the other man's thigh, gaining an annoyed grunt in response, before shifting to lie on his back. The two looked at each other for a long moment, thinking. They could still hear the gunfire of their attackers, though it was significantly quieter, farther away.

After a moment, Taggart spoke up, "Can we find somewhere to live? Doesn't have to be anything special, I just don't like being left out in the open." He batted lightly at one of the tumors hanging off left side of the smoker's face.

Liam waved the hand away and considered the request for a moment before nodding. "If your apartment's still intact we can stay there."

The smaller male groaned an exaggerated whine.

"'The fuck do you care? I've seen you jump, you can get there in like five minutes." He waved a clawed hand at somewhere off to his left.

"You can't hop around, you loser, how're you gonna get there?"

"My legs aren't broken, dumbass, I can still run."

Taggart shrugged lamely. "Still, I don't really wanna go back to, well, there." At Liam's interrogating look, he elaborated, "It'd just feel weird there, like I know it's gonna just be constantly reminding me of my old life."

Liam rolled his eyes and pinched at the bridge of his nose. "Fine. We'll just go to my old place, then." He stood up suddenly and let the hunter fall smack onto his back, the blond head bouncing off the rooftop. "C'mon."

Taggart got up and stood beside him, rubbing the back of his head, "Ow, dick. Where is it?" He was answered with the taller man bounding off onto another rooftop and breaking into a run. Not wanting to get left behind, he huddled into a crouch and sprung, hopping after him.

000

Liam's apartment building was closer to his own than he would have expected. As a human, he would've had to walk only four or five blocks just to get there. He would've made frequent, probably pestering, visits to the other man had he known where he'd lived.

The two infected stepped into the cold apartment and closed the door behind them. Taggart looked around and furrowed his brows, frowning. There was almost nothing in this apartment, let alone a sign of personality. There was a single couch with a coffee table and small TV set across from it in the living room, maybe even a few scattered coffee cups and some stacks of folders crammed with paperwork. The off-white walls were void of any pictures or decorations and there wasn't a knick-knack in sight.

"Is this an office or did you actually live here once?" His voice gave off a slight echo, almost as if in emphasis.

Liam moved over to the tattered, old couch and sat down, the skeleton of the seat creaking in protest. He pulled a cigarette and placed it into his mouth, mumbling, "I did most of my living outside of this place. It was just somewhere to live."

Taggart watched him dig for a lighter and went to sit beside him. He looked around at the walls again, still frowning, "No pictures of your family or anything like that?" Even Taggart kept a framed photo of his parents on his table…

"Not really fond of 'em and never felt the need to remember them anymore than I already did," he murmured around the now-lit cigarette. He exhaled a foggy breath and slid a little down the couch, lanky body stretching out some.

Taggart leaned over a little to rest his head on the older infected's left shoulder, feeling him stiffen at the contact. He was careful not to get too affectionate as Liam wasn't really one for being lovey-dovey, and was wary about his next words, "So… did you guys not get along, or something?"

The smoker took another hit of the tobacco and shrugged, bobbing Taggart's head with the movement. "You could say that," there was bitterness to his tone.

"Is that why you're such a dick?" the words slipped out before he could properly register them and he cringed, waiting for a strike. Nothing happened and his confusion furthered when Liam started chuckling, a dry, raspy sound.

"Probably," He said. He went into a coughing fit for a few second before putting the almost-spent cigarette back to his lips. Taggart sighed and chanced pressing his body closer against the other's. When he wasn't pushed away, he closed his sore eyes, not really wanting to look at the empty walls anymore.

000

End Chapter 7.