44.
She stretched on the small floor mattress, yawned and rolled onto her side. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, Bulma took in the all too familiar sight of an empty bed. It was a good thing Vegeta hadn't demanded his own sleeping arrangements, because he was gone more often than he stayed put. He and Nappa and oftentimes Raditz would slip away without so much as a goodbye to the mainland. They'd been rather good about siphoning extra gas for trips to the second island as well as returning with a boatload of supplies. Food, tools, animals, medical equipment, and even special requests like her mother's favorite bottle of white wine and a trashy magazine for Maron.
Slipping into her boots, Bulma did the laces and tied her hair back. Outside she could hear the morning commotion from the main house. While the plans to move everyone onto the larger island were in place, a part of her was saddened about the idea. They'd been traveling together for so long, sleeping in abandoned living rooms and under the stars as a group that the idea of being spaced out was unsettling. Sure, she'd murder for a shower she didn't have to share with Nappa - who was notorious for relieving himself without remorse inside the cramped stall - but she'd grown accustomed to these people. As batty as they made her most of the time, they were her … friends. Being in close quarters was comfortable, familiar.
Entering the main house, Bulma helped herself to a hearty breakfast of eggs and bacon. Though she picked over the meat - she'd helped construct the stall that housed those animals, after all - she filled up on eggs and a tangerine powder drink that only sort-of resembled orange juice, half listening to the bickering of Raditz and Goku over who would get the last strip of pork.
After breakfast she joined Piccolo, Chichi and Tien on the boat over to the island. Bulma steered the familiar mile-long trek over blue water and set to work checking the plants.
The corn was coming along nicely, sprouting from the ground in thick stalks and tufts of green leaves. When she turned toward the radishes, she found Chichi bent over them with an expression far too somber for someone contemplating plants.
"Hey Chi," Bulma started, kneeling beside the other woman and flashing her a look of concern. "Everything okay?"
Chichi bit her lower lip, eyes dropping to the radish tops. "I'm fine," she said, blowing out a long breath. indicating she was anything but.
Bulma's head tipped to one side. "You don't look so fine."
Chichi's eyes flashed, but Bulma noticed they were a bit too wide. Dark circles weighed under her eyelids and her skin was paler than usual. Bulma should probably speak to Vegeta about gathering some cosmetics on his next trip to Yahhoy. She would've smiled at the idea of he and Nappa raiding a makeup counter, had it not been for Chichi's expression.
"You can tell me."
Chichi scrubbed a hand over her exhausted eyes but didn't say anything.
"Is it Goku?" Bulma felt the beginnings of a smile. Vegeta wasn't an easy person to share a bed with, between his perpetual grumpiness and the fact that was running off and gone half the time, but she knew he was probably an easier person to be with than Goku. "We've been friends for a long time, you know. If you need some advice-"
"I think I'm pregnant," Chichi interrupted, and Bulma just sat there, mouth still open at the word 'advice', blinking dumbly.
When she regained control of her jaw, Bulma wasn't sure what to do. Words had failed, so she lifted her arms before dropping them back to her side. Patting the other woman on the shoulder seemed a stupid thing to do, too. Dumbfounded, she opened her mouth once more but all she managed was a strangled,
"What?"
"I think I'm pregnant, Bulma."
"O… kay. With Goku's baby?"
Chichi just frowned.
"You had sex? With Goku?"
"Never mind," Chichi shot back snootily. "Forget I said anything."
"Wait, no. It's not… I'm just… I-" She what? Was surprised Goku wasn't a virgin? She had so many questions she didn't really want answers to. Had Chichi bullied him into it? Had Goku known what he was getting himself into? Had he enjoye- Bulma grimaced and shook her head. "Sorry. Wow. Uh, hey - I know! I'll have Vegeta grab you a test, and then we can know for sure. No use freaking out if there's nothing to freak out over, right?"
Chichi shook her head and got to her feet. Dusting her hands off on her pants primly, like she hadn't nearly broken down and admitted to anything, and replied, "No. I don't want Vegeta or anyone to know. Don't worry about it. I'll figure it out."
Bulma stood up too, but she wasn't sure what to do with her hands. Or anything, really. She felt jumpy with nerves. Biting her lip, she replied, "Okay. What if I go?"
Chichi frowned. "You go?"
"Yeah. To the mainland. We're low on copper for water filters, and Oolong mentioned this morning that we were going to need more nails for constructing anything else on this island."
Chichi's skin grew a shade paler, if possible. "Bulma, no. It was stupid. No reason to go risking anyone's life because I was too stupid to use a condom."
Bulma flinched. "We'll figure something out, okay? In the meantime, come by my hut and grab some protection just in case you… aren't. So you … don't." Yeah. She was definitely a charismatic genius with a knack of words. She wanted to smack herself, but instead she plastered a big, reassuring smile and debated about hugging Chichi. They'd never been the best of friends, but they were somewhat close. They'd been travelling together for months now, after all. And girls typically hugged one another in situations in like these, didn't they? Instead, she decided to give Chichi some privacy.
When the plants were inspected and the first crop picked, they headed back to the main island and Chichi went in to start dinner, not even casting the group sparring near the shoreline a second glance.
Goku was laughing and taunting Piccolo, being his regular, carefree self. On the edge of the group 18 was sparring with Krillin. Rather, she was knocking him over the head in a show of graceful badassary Bulma found rather envious.
"18," Bulma called. "I need your help with something."
Taking a break from pounding the manhood right out of Krillin, 18 wiped the sweat off her brow with the bottom of her shirt, giving another flash of hard abs that made Bulma feel wholly soft and useless, before asking,
"What?"
"I'm going to make a quick supply run in the morning."
18 didn't frown, exactly, but there was something unhappy about her expression. Or maybe there was always something unhappy about her expression and Bulma's request hadn't any effect on her mood.
"Okay."
"And," Bulma continued, trying to keep the prissy edge out of her tone. Even if it was difficult. "I was hoping you would come along."
She seemed to weigh the options for a moment before giving a one-shouldered shrug, some of her pin-straight blonde hair flicking around her shoulders. Bulma wondered how she managed to keep her hair so tamed with all the salty, ocean humidity.
"Fine," 18 conceded.
"Great!"
"What's great?" Krillin asked, approaching the pair and only looking slightly winded.
Bulma was about to tell him it was none of his business, when 18 spoke up first;
"We're making a supply run tomorrow."
Krillin's eyes widened. "To the continent?"
Instead of smacking her palm against her forehead, Bulma said, "Yes. I need to pick up a few things."
"Why don't you wait until Vegeta and Nappa get back?"
Her lips pursed. Yes, it was a perfectly valid question, but she didn't need Krillin pestering her. "Because there's no telling when those two jerks will return. It's an emergency." Stretching the truth a bit, but Bulma's moral compass had never been set on due-north. Besides, she was helping a friend. It was perfectly acceptable to lie if it was in the benefit of others. "And I'm going with or without your permission, Krillin."
"Okay." He was studying 18 with a look Bulma couldn't quite pinpoint. She squinted as realization dawned upon her. It was something akin to schoolboy longing. "Fine. I'll come along."
He hadn't been invited, but Bulma conceded that they could use the extra manpower. Krillin was a decent shot and he was loyal. If she asked for his discretion, he'd comply.
So the following morning when the others were arguing over breakfast, Bulma, 18 and Krillin borrowed one of the two boats and started back towards the continent in the direction of Yahhoy. Vegeta told her that they'd come and go from one of the less populated boroughs on the city's periphery. There were homes to loot and shops that had gone mostly untouched since the pandemic. There were also less threat of Walkers and no visible signs of a Red Ribbon camp there, so Bulma steered the ship north of the city.
The little fishing boat cut through water, bobbing as she picked up speed and cut a straight path across the ocean surface. It wasn't glass-still, but it was rather flat out here. Deep, dark water below and the horrors of the coast that lay ahead caused Bulma's palms to get a little damp. She swore she'd never go back, not without a good reason. And maybe doing Chichi a favor wasn't the best reason to risk her life, but she wasn't the type to stand aside and do nothing. Being somewhat reckless and more than somewhat impatient, this was her bright idea.
"Oh man," Krillin muttered from her left. "I didn't think I'd ever come back here. Not until Vegeta came back with news that all the Walkers had fallen dead of …" His voice trailed.
"Starvation?" 18 supplied.
"Sure."
Bulma frowned, her sweaty palms slipping on the wheel. "I don't think they're capable of starving. They're dead, physically, so they don't require sustenance to function. It's something in the nervous system that's reanimating the corpses, giving them control of their extremities. That's why the shot to the head is the only thing to stop them, it's the extreme…"
She trailed off when she noticed that her passengers were shooting her twin looks of disinterest. Bulma gave a dismissive shrug. It was just a theory, after all. But she'd been right about the transmission of the virus, even if Nappa had yet to thank her for being her guinea pig.
If only there was a way to kill the virus… If she could figure out what was causing the Walkers to reanimate, what was making normal, breathing humans Turn when infected... It was easy in theory, but in practice she'd need a lab, samples, equipment.
She shook her head, situating her running thoughts. First help Chichi, then the world. She almost smiled, weren't it for the deep seated dread weighing her down. There was still a chance, however slim, that her father and the other greats of the science and medical community were working diligently towards a cure.
The coast came into view, and Bulma steered them to one of the smaller docks on the outskirts of town. She pulled into a dock as Krillin cocked his pistol and 18 steadied her assault rifle. As the other two climbed off the boat and onto the slatted wooden planks, Bulma took in a deep, calming breath and reached for her gun. She had a bag full of clips at her disposal, but no matter how much artillery she carried she never quite felt adequately prepared.
How Vegeta could find this fun was beyond her. She might like his company, but she didn't claim to understand him.
"Follow me," 18 commanded, and both Krillin and Bulma stepped dutifully after her. There were three Walkers on shore. 18 hopped off the wooden dock and her boots crunched sand, taking purposeful steps forward, leveling her gun and aiming three well-placed shots. The trio of Walkers fell with echoing thuds, and 18 didn't flinch. Though she wore her bow strapped to her back, she didn't seem have any quarrels about using bullets today.
Bulma unfurled her map and pinpointed their location. It was a modest city about twenty miles north of Yahhoy.
"Main Street is that way," she said, pointing in the direction of where their best shot at finding a store. It was a short trek, 18 leading the way with her rifle. They stayed on the road, dark asphalt beneath their feet and grey clouds concealing any sunlight. It had been summer the last time she'd been here, but the leaves were falling, coating the road in plethora of oranges and reds and browns. Like a child's finger painting the warm hues were in contrast to the autumn temperatures the continent felt this far north. Bulma shivered, either from the cool wind or the cluster of bones scattered on the grassy median.
"I definitely don't miss this," Krillin said, frowning at the remains. It was unsettling, but nothing new. They'd seen their fair share of destruction. They'd been sheltered in their little bubble for weeks, but Bulma knew there were others out here, still trying to survive.
Closer to town the road was blocked with vehicles attempting to flee. As they passed, Bulma snuck peeks into cars. Most of them had shattered windows; whatever meagre belongings these people had attempted to take with them had already been picked over.
18 carried on, her survival-of-the-fittest attitude keeping her steps unhindered and light. She had her gun resting on her shoulder. Whenever a Walker would emerge from the wreckage she'd lift her rifle, aim and fire with the ease of an action hero. Bulma couldn't help but smile. 18 was a good member to have on her team, and she didn't miss the way she almost-smiled at Krillin when he said,
"You're getting good at that."
"I've been good at this." She shrugged. "My father was a nutcase, but he was convinced that the world was going to end one of these days."
Bulma sighed as they approached the downtown center. "The world isn't over just yet, guys," she reminded them. And gathering a deep breath to steady herself for the inevitable, she followed 18 to the single box store that's unlit letters spelled out 'Mega Mart!'
Across the locked glass doors someone had painted a letter X. On the stucco wall the white paint continued. They'd sketched a warning in a crescendo of painted letters. Krillin tugged at the collar of his shirt while 18 huffed.
"Undead inside," Bulma read. "Do no enter."
"Well that explains why the street is so empty," 18 commented. Her blue eyes darted around at the quiet street. Nearby a gas station with broken windows sat beside a boarded up bakery and a law firm.
"Mega Mart's our best shot," Bulma said, even as the stone of dread sunk lower in her belly.
Krillin shook his head. "No. Let's keep walking. Maybe there's…"
"They'll have copper wire and nails and other things we can use," 18 assured him with a breezy air, like the prospect of a box store full of Walkers didn't phase her in the slightest.
Copper wire, nails and pregnancy tests, Bulma thought, steeling herself.
"Anyone have any brilliant ideas?" she asked, looking at 18 first before turning to Krillin.
He raised his eyebrows. "Aren't you supposed to be the genius?"
Bulma gave a grunt and made a circle around the building, taking stock of the glass front doors that were marked in warning. She peered inside but it was dark. She strained her ears but it was quiet inside, a sign that the Walkers had been trapped for a while now, growing stagnant and complacent. However, the moment they heard a noise or sensed human flesh they'd spring back to life. Or, not life… Bulma frowned. It had only been a month, but she'd almost forgotten how these things worked. Rounding the building, she checked over her shoulder but it was empty. Whoever had cleared this city had done a good job. She thought it might be Vegeta and Nappa for a second, but this wasn't their handiwork. Vegeta would scoff at trapping Walkers in a building instead of killing them, and she doubted either would have the decency to warn off others from entering. Besides, Nappa probably couldn't spell 'undead'. She continued the trek around the building; there was only one other entrance around back, a narrow metal door meant for employees. There was a dumpster near the exit and Bulma grinned.
"Got it," she called, and 18 and Krillin were quick on her heels. While Krillin stared at the back exit with an uneasy expression, 18's gaze was taking in the parking lot.
"It's empty," she noted.
Bulma nodded. "All the Walkers must be in there."
"So we open the door and let them out?"
"I figure you can open the door," she began. To which 18's frown deepened, but she didn't object. "While Krillin and I wait on top of that dumpster. After you open the door, we'll spot you until you climb up, and then it's simple - we'll just take them out as they funnel through. Then, when it's quiet, we go inside, get what we need, and get the hell back to Kame House."
18 glanced from the dumpster to the doorway and back again, calculating how quickly she could break open the door and race back to the dumpster before the parking lot was crawling with Walkers. She exhaled. It wasn't a far distance, but it was risky.
"How many do you think are in there?"
Bulma was checking her pistol, eyes downcast. "No telling, but a bunch, probably."
Krillin was quiet. He'd brought along a crowbar, and though he knew they could use it to pry open the door he wasn't thrilled about watching 18 sprint through a crowd of Walkers.
"I'm probably going to have to start making bullets when we get back," Bulma continued. Satisfied with her pistol, she switched off the safety and pulled back the slide, cocking the gun with hands far steadier than she'd had months earlier when this crazy turn of events had started. When she'd had nothing but a heavy shotgun and a knife and barely any knowledge of how to go about using either of them. "But for now, no reason to hold back."
"I'll open the door," Krillin piqued up. 18 shot him a jaded look, and he continued, "I'm quicker."
"Fine. 18's a great shot, so she can better cover you from the dumpster," Bulma conceded. And while she'd been the one to come up with the simple plan, she felt less sure of it as 18 climbed the little metal rungs on the side of the large cube. The blonde grabbed hold of the top and pulled herself up the remainder of the way, then laid on her belly to line up the sights of her rifle to the back door.
Bulma felt like she was going to hurl. Partly from nerves, but mostly due to the disgusting smells coming from the dumpster just a few feet away. Everything on this planet had been rotting, it shouldn't have come as such a shock to her senses, but she grimaced as she put her hands on the ladder rungs and felt something sticky well between her fingers.
"Gross," she mumbled, wincing as she started the climb to the top. She couldn't quite pull herself up, but 18 helped hoist her the remainder of the way. Once balanced on the safety of the dumpster lid, she chanced a glance at her right hand. She didn't even have a guess as to what green, oozy substance was. "I hate the fucking continent." Why had she come here again?
With a steadying breath, she knelt beside 18 and wiped her hand off on her shirt. Thunder cracked from above and she almost jumped out of her skin.
"Well that's promising," she muttered, but the words fell on deaf ears. 18 gave a nod to Krillin who started to the back door, crowbar in hand. He wedged the metal tool between the door and the lock and yanked. Bulma snorted as she watched his arm muscles bulge as he pried and pulled, but he was stronger than he looked. After a third try the door snapped open with a loud thunk and Bulma held her breath as it opened. Then Krillin was racing to the dumpster with quick, spritely strides as the Walkers began pouring out behind him. Bulma raised her pistol and aimed, squeezing the trigger at a Walker pressing its way through the doorway. It fell to the ground and she listened as 18 popped off shots at her side, twice as quickly as her own. Krillin didn't look back and with ease, he climbed the rungs and pulled himself up to the top of the dumpster to sit between the women.
Bulma inhaled through her mouth, the foul smell of decay no longer an issue as Walkers filed out of the Mega Mart in thick waves. While they managed to off most of them through the doorway, the horde grew thicker and a few managed to press themselves against the dumpster, hands clamoring against its sides, nails scratching at metal, searching for purchase. Thankfully they couldn't climb. A small comfort, Bulma decided, as she lowered her gun and aimed at the Walkers banging on the dumpster. Though it had taken quite a lot to get up here, their arms seemed frighteningly close.
When she glanced back up, the Walkers funneling through the doorway had thinned significantly.
Bulma dropped her magazine and jammed a full one in with the heel of her hand. Squinting, she aimed. The bullet grazed a Walker's temple. With a curse, she leveled her sights once more and shot again. This time the bullet landed square in the Walker's skull and he fell limp where he stood.
Lowering her weapon she sighed with relief. Apart from a crackle of thunder, the parking lot was quiet. Piles of Walkers littered almost every square inch of concrete, leaving no clear path from the dumpster to the back door of the Mega Mart, but 18 cut one, stepping over the fallen without so much as a second glance. Bulma avoided looking at their faces as she tiptoed over the corpses she'd previously been so callously aiming at.
First help Chichi, then she could deal with the rest.
At the door, Krillin took the crowbar and banged it against the door a few times. Nothing inside stirred, and so Bulma retrieved her flashlight from her bag and shined the light inside.
It was dark and eerie inside the large, windowless building. She felt a shiver snake down her spine. Another crack of thunder sounded and she bit her lip.
"Let's make this fast. Krillin, you go to the hardware section and try and find copper wire and nails. Grab any other tools you think we can use," Bulma instructed, injecting her usual tone of leadership. "18, you're on food and drinks, and I'll grab medical and hygiene supplies."
18 nodded and flipped on her own flashlight, it's fat plume of light illuminating rows of shelves inside. With a sigh, Krillin pulled out his own light and strapped the band over his head.
"A head flashlight?" 18 deadpanned.
He shrugged and switched on his light before leading the way inside.
Bulma broke off from the pair, moving to the front of the store. She unzipped her bag and started loading up on toothpaste and brushes, deodorant and soap. When she turned to the medicine aisle she stumbled back. A Walker turned and lunged for her, but came up short. Bulma froze as she watched it struggle, thrashing back and forth with its jaw snapping. The hem of its shirt sleeve was caught on the edge of the shelf. Bulma swallowed and unsheathed the knife at her hip. The Walker twisted in her direction, its sleeve ripping, and once free it lunged toward her with a ravenous growl.
Bulma lifted her arm and caught his collarbone with her forearm, holding him off with clenched teeth. Using all the strength she could summon, Bulma shoved him backward, and though he stumbled back his snapping teeth were dangerously close. With her left hand, she brought the knife up and sunk it into the Walker's temple and tore upwards. The blade sliced easily through the soft, decomposing bone and the Walker fell limp in her arms. Tossing him off, she watched as he smacked the floor. Dark blood ran from her elbow to wrist, joining the dumpster ooze from earlier.
She couldn't wait to take a hot shower back at Kame House. But first, she had shit to do.
She cleared the shelf of deodorant before moving onto painkillers and gauze. Then she moved to the next aisle, quickly snatching a box of pregnancy tests.
"Hey," 18's voice called, and Bulma turned guiltily. Bulma felt a cool sweat on her neck, but 18 was staring at the Walker sprawled on the floor.
"We miss one?"
"I took care of it," Bulma replied.
18 shrugged, unconcerned. "There wasn't much food left, but I grabbed what I could. Anything else we need here?"
Bulma gestured to the shelf in front of 18. "Grab some condoms."
18 rolled her eyes, but began clearing the shelf, tossing the boxes into her pack. When the light from Krillin's head-lamp closed in on them, he froze.
"Uh. Really? Please tell me this wasn't why we came," he squeaked.
18 lifted one of the boxes and frowned at it. "No. But it's probably not a bad idea. Not exactly the ideal time to be having babies."
Bulma gave a humorless laugh and zipped up her pack. In silence, the trio headed out the back door. The moment 18 stepped out and switched off her flashlight the rain came. Slowly at first, drops dotted the concrete of the parking lot, washing away the dark blood surrounding the fallen Walkers. As they entered the main street the sprinkles became a steady rain. By the time they'd reached the docks it was a downpour. Bulma could barely see through the thick, sharp curtain of rain.
At least her arm was no longer soiled with Walker blood and dumpster ooze. She grimaced as 18 and Krillin loaded the boat. Realizing she was still standing on the continent alone, she hopped onto the safety of the boat and started up the engine. Drops of rain bounced on the ocean, millions of concentric circles spanning in every direction.
18 sat on the bench seat next to Krillin, leaving only a few inches between them. Bulma steered through the deluge and toward the island. She could see the little pink house first, and as they drew nearer she spotted a lone figure standing on the shore. Black hair still swept in that gravity-defying flame despite the steady rainfall. As they docked the rain let up, back to splattering sprinkle but Vegeta stood there, clothes plastered to his chest and shoulders, with his strong arms crossed, his expression stiff.
As she cut the engine and lowered herself off the side of the boat, pack brimming with supplies in hand, Bulma smiled.
"Hey," she greeted casually. "You're back."
His lips flexed to a frown. "So you go rushing off to the continent now?"
She shrugged. "Guess so."
"What was so important that you couldn't wait until we got back?" there was an edge to his voice, something deeper than his signature tone of frustration with any- and everything.
Bulma glanced down at her backpack before holding it behind her back. "N-nothing," she grinned guiltily. Not the smoothest move, exactly, and she noticed Vegeta's glare harden. He probably wouldn't think much of it. He was always commenting on her bizarre behavior. She kept her smile intact, hoping she could charm her way out of it. Use that genius charisma she was always going on about. Maybe stick her chest out a touch and distract him? That usually worked. He'd probably have a panic attack if he knew she was off sneaking to get pregnancy tests. Even if she'd calmly explained that it wasn't for her.
"Wait next time," he asked. Bulma tilted her head to one side. Okay, not so much asked as commanded. "It's reckless to go back."
Well that was ritch. Bulma let out a peal of laughter. When she was done laughing at the hypocritical man still frowning and crossing his arms and looking thoroughly ready to scold her, Bulma came to an entirely different realization.
"Wait a second. Were you worried about me?"
"Hn," he scoffed. And even though he looked at her like the mere suggestion was ridiculous Bulma beamed back at him.
"Oh Vegeta you were concerned that I wouldn't return."
He sidestepped her attempts to pat his cheek, shooting her a glower that would make one of his army subordinates soil themselves. "My life would be easier if you hadn't."
Her big, teasing grin didn't falter. "You big softie."
His arms were still crossed but undeterred she further invaded his personal space. He took a step back. Bulma bit her lip, celebrating another victory as his dark gaze dropped to her mouth and lingered there.
Slowly, she slid her teeth over her plump lower lip, gently sawing the skin with an incisor.
"Vegeta," she said, voice low and seductive, a teasing glint in her eyes. "You should know, I'm a big girl. I can handle myself."
Behind her, Bulma could hear Krillin clearing his throat in a thinly veiled distraction.
"Fine. We're going," she called, grabbing Vegeta by the bicep and dragging him to their room. For a man who professed to be so strong and sovereign and unyielding, he didn't put up much a fight.
.
Ahhhhh. You guys - someone nominated this story over at the We're Just Saiyan semi-annual awards. There's a link posted on my profile (links here never seem to work...) - go, check it out, read all the spectacular nominees, and vote!
Also - a big, giant thanks to whoever nominated me. SERIOUSLY. You're the best. :D
