Municipal Wasteland 10
000
Liam awoke the next morning – or afternoon, rather – with his body draped flat against the dirtied table and his dick still hanging limp out of the cover of his jeans.
He lifted his head and looked around groggily, eyes adjusting to the intrusion of clouded sunlight. He sat up and grunted, throwing himself into a coughing fit. When his hacks died down, his brows raised as another's choking continued elsewhere.
'Must be Taggart,' he thought, slipping off the table and standing to his full height. He pulled up his jeans and re-did them before heading to the broken window a few feet away. "Tag'," He called. His answer was more hacking and the additional sound of something wet. "Taggart," he called louder, this time a gravelly 'what' responding.
A sneakered foot went out the window and onto the cement ledge, the rest of Liam's lank body following after. He took a moment to deeply inhale the scent of burning and decay, and then he carefully rounded the corner of the ledge to find Taggart hunkered down and spewing any and all stomach contents. His normally grayed fingers were now white-knuckled and clamped tight onto the edge he leaned over.
"J-Jesus Christ, man," Taggart moaned, collapsing gracelessly onto his belly, his vomit-speckled chin still hanging over the edge. His little body shook and he looked exhausted.
"Still getting used to the infection?" Liam asked with a little bite in his tone.
Taggart shook his head, belching some, then said, "Nah, man, this feels like way worse than the last time I was hackin' up."
"Ah, suck it up, ya big baby."
"H-hey, fuck you, man, this shit hurts-!" He threw his head back to the ledge and his mouth gaped as a heavy stream of black vomit poured forth. After a minute, the resounding echo was a loud, wet splash as the bile hit the pavement hard, some speckling an unfortunate witch nearby.
The puke-spotted girl snapped her head up towards the building and gave an angry shriek.
Liam stepped back from the ledge and burst into a fit of coughing chuckles. "Ha-hahaha! Stupid girl! Great aim, babe."
"If-if she didn't want it on her, she shouldn't-a sat where the puddle was…" The little hunter rolled over onto his back, a limp arm hugging his aching belly. "This blows," he grunted.
Liam gave a snort and his face went into a scowl, "Apparently. Check out the wood you got going." He nudged at said 'wood' with the toe of his shoe, earning a whine and slap at his shin.
"Fuck off!"
"Hey, you can't just go showing that off and expect me not to do something about it."
"Dude, just quit it, I don't know what's up with me. I'm not even in the mood, okay?" His yellowed fangs showed through a half-hearted snarl.
"Whatever, brat. I'm fuckin' starving, I'm gonna find us some food." Liam turned so his back was facing the streets and gave a small jump off the ledge. His clawed hands caught the edge and the bottoms of his feet smacked against a window. "You want anything?"
"I might, just -." The hunter's gray face paled noticeably and he rolled over, bile spewing forth again. He was a miserable sight.
"Well, have fun!" Liam slinked down the wall of the building, carefully making his way down to the street. Once it was safe to do so, the lanky smoker let go of a window sill and dropped to the cracked cement beneath him. As he wandered away from the building, the wet smacking of splattering bile reached his ears and he sighed,
000
A deep inhale brought in the rich, delicious scent of warm, human blood. He was like a hungry shark; he'd caught onto the trail, now he just needed to find the pray.
Side-stepping the glare of street lamps and blending in with the shadows of the streets, he'd eventually made his way to a dark, trashed convenience store. Upon closer inspection of the tiny parking lot, Liam caught sight of a dribbled trail of blood leading into the shop.
A distorted, ugly grin cracked his face. He stepped over the door's empty, metal framing and onto the broken glass coating the floor. The shards crunched beneath his sneakers and a muffled wail of fear sounded from behind a door near the back.
He stepped through the trash and boxes strewn all over the floor, maneuvering through the thin aisles. He stood still in front of the wooden barrier keeping his from his next meal for a brief moment.
He inhaled once before shoving his body into the door, rocking it on its hinges, his shoulder denting the old, cracked wood. He proceeded to throw himself at the door until the splinters became chunks, and soon the whole of the barrier caved, dropping to the linoleum floor in clatters. The infected peered in.
Liam gave a choking wheeze and his cloudy eyes found their target. A young man sat huddled in on himself, his quaking body looking for comfort in a dirty corner. The wound that gave him away was a massive gash torn into his arm. No sign of infection on this one, no spoilage. The smoker stepped out of the door frame and stalked over to the cowering man whose face was wrenched into a silent scream.
Liam smacked the weakly-defensive arms out of his way and plunged his clawed fingers into the man's belly. A real scream ripped from his throat and he bellowed in pain as his torso was emptied.
In only a few, excruciating moments, the man was dead and Liam had a full day's meal hefted onto his shoulder. The hungry smoker wandered out of the shop and shoved his way through some scrabbling infected wanting a piece for themselves.
It was a pain in the ass getting back to his temporary home, what, with all the other hungry infected, and the climb back up certainly didn't make things easier.
Finally, a sore, greasy hand grasped hold onto the ledge and he hauled his, plus the dead man's, weight up and over. The pair of bodies dropped down onto the flat surface, Liam hacking from the effort. "Fu~u~uck," he wheezed.
He sat up and shook himself, then grabbed hold of an arm while placing his feet on the torso. With a few good heaves, the loud pop of an emptying socket resounded and gave way to tearing flesh and sinew. The arm gave and detached slapping into Liam's chest. The ugly grin came back as he tore into the messy flesh of the bodiless limb, his cheeks filling with cooling meat as gore spilled down his chin.
Out of the corner of a milky eye, he saw Taggart gingerly crawling over to the kill. The little hunter ripped apart the remainder of the man's t-shirt before listlessly digging into the exposed back.
"Feeling any better, kid?" Liam asked through a mouthful of food.
"Just a little," Taggart mumbled, swallowing. "Body's still hurtin' like a bitch, all the puking made me fuckin' exhausted." He pulled another chunk of tissue into his mouth and chewed.
"Guess you're just having a rough time adjusting or something." He practically unraveled a long flap of skin from the arm and slid it into his gaping maw.
"Eh, probably, though I don't know why you aren't all wrecked, too."
"Not all hum-, er, things're built the same, Tag."
"True. It just sucks, man," He plucked a string of tendon from between some teeth and lapped up some spilled blood.
Something behind Taggart gurgled and then belched loudly.
The two whipped their heads around to see a massive balloon that was the infected's stomach making its unsteady way towards them. "Can- can I have –urp- some?" He asked, his voice wet and wavering.
"Uh, no. Fuck off." Liam spat, then gnawed on a bit of bone protruding from the arm. Taggart just stared at the massive infected; its middle shivered like it was ready to blow. The gut rumbled some, further unsettling him.
"C'mon, m-man, just a leg or something? I'm starv-v-ving!" The boomer stepped closer, his tumor-heavy flesh wobbling and bouncing. Taggart's eyes widened.
"Hey, buddy, what'd I just tell you? You ain't getting shit, so fuck. OFF." He jabbed the arm at the large gut, bony-end first.
"Uh, Liam," Taggart started, his tone warning.
"But I-."
"You seem to misunderstand me," Liam jabbed again.
"Liam-!"
"Fuck. Off. You. Fat. Ass." Each word was emphasized with jab from the bone's point, each gaining more force. At the last word, the gut expanded in a millisecond of a flash before exploding.
Taggart threw himself into a huddled position and Liam stayed stock still as gore blew into them, smaller chunks continuing to rain down as the initial damage wore off.
"WHAT THE FUCK." Liam roared, filthy, meaty spittle flying from his mouth.
Taggart just watched the wobbly, thick lower half slip over the edge of their perch and fall to the ground. His milky eyes were round and wide, and his ears perked at the sudden sound of rushing.
"'The hell's that?" Liam snarled, wiping chunky spatter off the both of them.
The sound grew louder and closer and Taggart leapt to a clear corner of the ledge. He grabbed at Liam, then the remainder of their food, and watched as a small mass of infected spilled from the empty window frame. The flailing, disorganized bodies scrabbled at the bile and gore the boomer had left behind in his death, frantically shoveling it into their open mouths and all over their greasy skins.
"What is… what are they doing?" Taggart whispered, watching.
"Dunno. Guess they like that nasty shit?"
"Yeh. Lookit 'em swarm!"
"Haven't seen anything like this yet, not to mention the fat ass that caused it. Weird. C'mon, let's move this guy elsewhere and finish." Liam grabbed the limp, cold body and dragged it over to the opposite end of the building. Taggart crept along after him.
The two continued their dinner to the sounds of screaming, fighting infected until they were full. Breaking another window, they tossed the remainder of their meal into the empty office room and followed after it, settling in for the night.
Just as in the previous nights, the sounds of the city let them drift.
000
A/N - Blah, blah, blah, some filler and a few hints to future things, plus the intro of the boomer and the horde. Poor boomer, he just wanted some chow. Anyway, thanks for reading. Please read and REVIEW. Gonna get started on that next chapter for you guys.