Where Do We Go from Here

Fluffy142

A/N: Like I said, I'm gonna pound out more than one chapter this week. I really hope you enjoyed the happy chapter, though it won't last long. Ugh, what am I doing? I've said far too much about the chapter already, so! Enough of the chit-chat! Without further ado, here it is. I'm also going to jump the chapter ahead, so sorry about the number mishap, OCD really got to me.

Chapter 15: Rooftops

"Well, shit." The Raptor started jerking forward, it had been a few hours of driving, but the full tank of gas finally ran out. We've been inside Wyoming for only half an hour, but I'm sure that we had it better in Texas. It finally died outside a small town. There really wasn't much in the town to scavenge, but a lone infected here and there kept us on our toes. The runner charged, and James casually pulls out Shorty, and decapitates him within inches of grabbing him. Rolling him over, and thoroughly checking him for anything of value, James sighed with disgust.

"Damn, this place is picked clean." Whistling lowly and panning in a circle, it seems that it's falling apart around you. Or, what isn't falling apart is being actively destroyed by Infected. Not only is there nothing to take, but there's the overall feeling that something is terribly wrong. You catch something in the corner of your eye, but there's nothing there. It's like they're taunting you, just out of reach, but you can tell that they're there. There's definitely something else here… something from 'over the rainbow'. Sorry for the "Wizard of Oz" quote, but I feel that it's correct for the situation.

"Anything?" I call to Rebecca from the open door of the apartment building. A few muffled pops and she crawls out of the shattered glass door of the convenience store across the road.

"Infected, and a few cans of food. Other than that, that's your opinion."

"James is inside, should we help him?"

"Sure, what else do we have to do?" Jogging across the street, and up the front steps, I open the door. This would've been a nice place to live, had you been born in the 1970's. The faded green carpet, extended the entire length of the hallway, and most of the doors were ajar, courtesy of James. Finally reaching the top of the hallway, we ascended the spiral staircase around the corner, and checked the second and third floor. After we descend to the fourth floor, I started to get worried. Seeing that this floor wasn't even bothered with, we sprinted up the last flight of stairs, and spilled out onto the roof.

"James? Where are you?" Hearing no response, and cursing under my breath, I start to turn back to the door.

"Wait! There's a board over there!" Rebecca's voice rang across the open roof. Walking back over, and noticing the decomposing remains of where the board had previously laid in the sun, I take a few steps back. James must have walked across the gap of the two buildings. Taking a sprinting start, I plant my right foot on the low ledge, and push off. Sailing through the air, I slam into the opposite wall. Feeling one or two ribs break, I struggle to pull myself up. Swearing loudly, I roll out onto the opposite roof. My breaths come out in labored bursts, and I can feel the broken ribs grating against each other. Gripping my side gently, I pull the board over to the edge, and using my weight as a counter balance, push the board over to the opposing roof.

"Alright, there you go." Keeling over slightly, I sit on the wall. Hearing Rebecca pad quickly across the new walkway, I slowly get up, and stumble to the door. Opening it slowly, we walk inside. The building was in shambles, and many creatures roamed freely through the halls. Most of them paid us no mind, but others seemed to be quite annoyed with our unexpected arrival. After about 4 hallways with no sign of our friend, I start to get a little worried. There was ample evidence that he had been searching through the apartments, but he was nowhere to be found. We were about to leave and go search in the streets, when something caught my eye on the 2nd floor.

Walking inside, the room was a mess. There was blood all over the floor, and a lone clicker still jerked silently with its throat shot out. I pulled out my 9mm, and unloaded 2 rounds into the gap between the fungal plates. The loud pops reverberated in my ears, and the following shrieks and clicks that followed only made my face cringe more. The scene now made sense: James had used the pillows on the bed to kill the clickers and runners silently. Not only would it have concealed the flash of the muzzle from any runners, but worked as a silencer. The clickers never stood a chance against James' stealth in the first place, but add these effects to his arsenal, and he could kill us all before we even knew it.

The first runner rounded the corner of the hall and slammed against the wall, stumbling. Redoubling its speed as it saw my head poking out of the room, I pulled out my dad's 204. It was compact, and small, but could still kill a large deer at 150 yards. With a slightly lesser blam than the 300 earlier that week, the head of the runner disappeared, only leaving behind a fountain of blood as its body slumped forward, and collapsed. Slinging the rifle over my shoulder, and grabbing Rebecca by the arm, we sprint towards the stairs, and descend them quickly. Hearing the shrieks and unsettled footsteps of clickers before us, I pull out the blood-caked tire iron.

The only place not covered in congealed blood was the familiar handholds where my fingers where soon to lie. Racing around the last landing, and swinging the tire iron, I meet the first clicker head on. Its blood sprays in my face as the clicker's head in caved in by the stronger steel. The next two fall to Becca's machete and the last runner charges. Putting all the strength I can muster into the killing blow, I miss. The momentum of the weapon carries me to the ground and the runner trips over my unexpected tumble. Searching frantically for its infected face, fear grips my heart at the thought of being infected from a small nibble on my butt. Finally finding it trying to bite through my backpack, it let it roll off my shoulders. Other than the shiv and unloaded 9mm in my leg holster, the runner settles into a low crouch. This one seems smarter than the others… something seems off. Rebecca is frozen in her tracks, and something about the creature catches my eye. There seems to be a shiv its side pocket, and the tattered holster on his hip, that seemed familiar. I stop… and the tire iron in my hands slowly slides through my fingers, falls to the ground, and the tears well up. The shaggy hair and broken glasses… my world crumbles around me.

James crouches, feet away, cold hatred burns in his eyes. The 3 bleeding teeth marks on his left arm, shoulder, and right calf. Sinking to my knees, and sobbing softly, James lunges. I only keep him from biting me, as I fight through the sadness that threatens to tear me apart inside. My only regret as I grope for the tire iron was that I never told him how much he meant to me. We'd been friends for neigh on 30 years. Finally grabbing the smooth surface of the tire iron, I slam it into the side of his head. Slowly getting to my feet, I raise the weapon, and drop it behind me. Rebecca pulls out her 9mm, and unloads it into James' head.

The fountain flowed forth, and with tears flowing down my face, I search the rest of the building for his backpack. I finally found it with a note on the third floor.

Trevor and Rebecca,

These last 27 years have been the best, funniest, and scariest of my life. I know that you've probably found me, and if you haven't, keep a look out. Don't mourn me, but rather take it upon yourselves to finish what we started. Trevor, you get Rebecca to that town, find those fucking fireflies, and get a cure for all of us. If there isn't one, well, shit. If there is, stop anyone else from becoming what runs through my blood now. And Trevor… I'll tell the girls you and Rebecca said hi. One more thing…

The rest of the note was covered in too much blood to make out any discernable words. Crumpling it in my hands, I drop it to the floor. Walking silently out the door, and outside, I keep moving west. Rebecca hurries to catch up, for she had stayed to read the crumpled note. As the adrenaline subsides, the paid returns instantly in my ribs, grunting from the sudden burst in pain, I grip my side gently.

"What now?" I can tell that she is on the verge of tears as well, but I can tell that she's trying to hide it.

"I'm taking you to find some Fireflies."

I really found this to be the hardest chapter to write, but I really hope that the next chapters will come along faster. I plan to get the next chapter posted as soon as possible.

Fluffy142