Hey everyone! A few things to point out before you get reading. First, I have this story completed and I'll be releasing a new chapter every Saturday until it's complete. It will be twenty chapters total.
Second, since this is an zombie apocalypse, there will be no magic in it. Rapunzel has her blonde hair but it's just normal hair, not magical.
Third, Pascal and Max are human in this story.
And lastly, I do take inspiration from other zombie shows and games but this is not a crossover. It's purely the Tangled characters in a zombie apocalypse.
I just wanted to point these things out for context.
Her heart was pounding so fast, the pain in her chest reminding her to keep moving as she ran. Rapunzel sucked in shallow breaths. Her shoe-less feet prone to cuts as she moved fast.
Trees surrounded her as she moved deeper into the woods. She didn't know where she was, only that she had to keep moving. Whipping her head back and forth, she looked for some sign on where to go, hoping to find a house or a barn – someplace where other people would be. Someplace that could keep her safe.
As she ran, she felt the sensation of the scissors in her hand – the steel warm and slippery. She didn't want to look down at it, knowing it was covered in red.
Blood. The word whispered in her mind.
No, she wasn't going to think about it.
Distracted, a large hunkering tree branch smacked her in the face.
She yelped, doubling over. Pressing a hand to her face, she felt the dull ache of pain simmering on her cheek. She slumped to the ground, tired and sore.
Sucking in air, with one hand clutched to her cheek and the other to her chest, she sat, pressed against a tree trunk. An ant meandered over one bare foot, then onto the next. Her head thudded against the trunk as she leaned back. She knew she needed to keep moving, but she was too tired. A worm crawled out of the ground and slithered away. She started to close her eyes when she heard a voice.
Rapunzel…
She heard her name, either on the wind or in her mind, she honestly couldn't tell. Her brain felt fuzzy and fried.
Rapunzel…
She lifted her head. It sounded like a woman whispering her name.
She knew the woman in question, but she couldn't think of her right now. Not after what Rapunzel had done.
She lifted the scissors to look at them. Caked in a ruddy substance.
Rapunzel…
She looked around, terrified of seeing the woman calling her name. Her ears began to ring, leaving behind the sounds of birds and insects chirping. All she could hear was her shaky breathes and her heartbeat slowing down.
You know what you did! The voice screamed at her. Rapunzel yelped and dropped the scissors. All noise came back into existence, awakening her from a bad dream.
Except it wasn't a dream. A pair of bloody scissors laid on the ground in front of her. She hated those scissors.
Rapunzel struggled to push herself up, all her weight leaning on the tree behind her. She gripped bark; her fingernails dirty. Once she was standing, Rapunzel knew she needed to keep moving, and she definitely didn't want to bring those scissors with her. But she needed them, and that was the worst part. She needed those scissors for safety – not against the woman who whispered her name at night, stroking her hair, only her hair, but another deadly creature that haunted these woods.
The creature that she was warned about. But Rapunzel had never set foot outside until this day, the day she finally decided to change her fate.
Just as she was reaching for the scissors, Rapunzel heard a twig snapping. She froze, holding her breath. For a moment, the forest went silent – and not because her ears were ringing anymore – but because the birds and insects knew to be quiet around impending danger.
A low, rough moan. It sounded like someone gargling rocks. Rapunzel felt a presence over her shoulder. She turned around quickly and was face to face with the living dead.
A zombie – a piece of flesh was hanging over its empty eye socket and the clothes on its body were torn and bloody. Its hair was white and patchy. The zombie's hands were gnarled, skin a pasty grey, as it reached out to Rapunzel, running right for her.
Rapunzel screamed and backed away, tripping over a root in the ground. Her back hit the earth hard, causing her to let out a moan of her own. She sat up as fast as her pain would allow her and began to scramble backwards, as the zombie loomed closer to her. She tried standing up, but a mixture of fear and tiredness prevented her.
The zombie, lumbering towards her, its body jerking with every step, tripped over the same root and fell partially on top of her. The force of the zombie on her legs hurt - her shin bones digging into the rigid bone of the zombie's chest. It reached its disturbing hands for her and grabbed a hold of her legs. Rapunzel looked around for something to grab, mad at herself for letting go of the scissors. She saw them on the ground, a few inches away. She would have to lean over the zombie to grab them.
The zombie snapped its jaw towards her leg. She wrenched her leg out of the way of its mouth. The zombie still clung on however, leaving Rapunzel in a state of panic. It would be impossible to reach the scissors with the zombie holding on to her.
She needed a different plan. The zombie was scrabbling at her legs, digging its fingernails through her jeans and into her skin. She cried out as she felt her skin tear, blood seeping down her legs. She kicked at the zombie's chest, trying to avoid its face - her toes close to being bit. Her foot pressed into the soft, decaying skin of the zombie's chest, the feeling of it like fruit skin peeling off.
Do not get bit. Do not get bit. She said like a mantra to herself, trying to calm her panicked mind.
She kept kicking at its chest – kicking and kicking. Kicking and kicking. She screamed, a primal sound she had never made before. She landed a good blow to the zombie's rib cage, the sound of bone snapping, forcing the zombie to back up an inch. Rapunzel felt the pressure lift off her legs and she scrambled away. As the zombie laid on the ground, struggling to get up, its body jerking and twisting to stand, Rapunzel ran past it and snatched the scissors off the ground. She held the scissors out in front of her, taking a breath, staring at the zombie as it rose.
As it lunged for her, she turned and ran away. She could sense the zombie was following her, it was half running, half walking – using some sort of heavy, awkward gait.
Was she gonna have to kill it? She didn't know if she could.
She tried to remember what that woman taught her – the one she was too scared to think about – when it came to zombies.
Remember Rapunzel, you need to stab it in the head. Or course, you will never be in that position in the first place since you're never leaving this house. It's for your own protection, dear girl. The world is a truly scary and evil place.
Stab it in the head.
She looked down at the scissors – she remembered the warning about running with scissors – more advice from the woman she was trying not to picture. She had to use the scissors. Stab it in the head.
Rapunzel forced her body to slow down and turned to look at the zombie, with more pieces of flesh now dangling from its chin. She gripped the scissors tight in one hand and lifted them.
You can do this, she told herself.
Letting out a scream, she ran right for the zombie.
It swerved away from her, right as the scissors were about to made contact with its head. It snapped at Rapunzel, almost nipping her wrist. She jerked her hand away, still holding the scissors. They circled each other – a strange dance of sorts.
The zombie lunged at her again, swiping a hand towards her waist. Rapunzel recoiled back, flinching. The zombie lost its balance as it propelled forward, giving Rapunzel a chance. She swung the scissors at its head and made contact.
Expect that the scissors didn't go all the way through the zombie's head. She clung onto the scissors as the zombie, still moving and still alive, turned its head and snapped at her face. She could smell its rancid breath, causing her to gag. She brought both hands to the scissor hilt and rammed the scissors fully into the zombie's skull.
The zombie gave one more snap, before a gurgling sound left its mouth and it fell to the ground.
Rapunzel stepped back and stared at the dead zombie with a pair of scissors sticking out of its head. A gooey thick black substance was seeping out of its mouth. She stood there for a moment, surprised, still a little afraid and a tiny bit impressed with herself.
I killed a zombie, she thought. After thinking on this a bit more, she couldn't contain herself.
"I killed a zombie!" she said, quietly to herself, yet full of excitement. She was always told she was too weak and fragile as a flower to ever handle being in the outside world.
"Well, you were wrong," she said, feeling the need to say it out loud. The flash of curly black hair, a worn-down red dress and a condescending smile went through her mind.
She wasn't gonna think about that.
Giving the zombie one last look, Rapunzel walked away. After a few paces, she stopped.
Stupid, she thought. Go grab those scissors. You still need a weapon.
So, after carefully grabbing the scissors from the zombie's head – the squelching sound its brain made when she pulled the scissors out making her gag again – Rapunzel continued on her way.
In the whole commotion, she realized she had stopped running to fight off the zombie. Fear coursed through her. What if she found her? The woman with the curly black hair.
She needed to keep moving fast. The sun was beginning to set, with only a few hours of daylight left. Rapunzel knew she needed to find food and a place to sleep, but she was completely lost in the middle of the woods.
She kept walking at a hurried pace, occasionally looking behind her, worried she'd see her.
But she never showed.
Rapunzel started to wonder if she wasn't being followed – maybe she was free.
Searching for food wasn't easy. When she grew up in the cottage – the cottage she was never allowed to leave - she spent a lot of time reading about all things – the sun and moon and stars, how to play chess, tips on how to create a masterpiece painting and, luckily, botany. She knew which plants where edible and which weren't, but she wasn't seeing any plants that she could safely eat. The trees themselves were fairly barren, no fruit to be found.
Her stomach began to ache from her growing hunger – a feeling of dizziness spreading through her brain. She had only eaten parsnip soup for lunch and was feeling the effects of a low-calorie meal.
With night approaching fast, she needed a place to sleep. A safe place. Her scissors were not as sharp as they had been before she stabbed that zombie. She didn't know how useful they'd be as a weapon again. And she was getting more tired and dizzy by the second.
After wandering through the woods for the next few hours, scouring for food and not finding any – she couldn't find any creek for water – and having nothing for shelter, she came to the conclusion she'd just have to spend the night out in the open – vulnerable for anything and anyone to find her.
Rapunzel felt the sting of tears in her eyes. This would be the first night she ever slept alone and without a bed. She felt a stab of longing for that woman – to be held and comforted by her, to have a mother again.
She thought the word. Mother.
She missed her mother.
Now that her adrenaline was calming down, she started to feel guilt and regret. Maybe she shouldn't have picked up those scissors. But she did. And she wasn't sure if she'd ever see her mother again.
Settling into the curve of a tree trunk, Rapunzel tried her best to get comfortable. But a tree root was sticking into her back, reminding her of a bed spring doing the same, the bark on the tree scraping the skin on her face when she leaned her head to rest against the tree. She had never felt so alone in her life.
She began to cry, big heaping sobs. Her entire body rattled. She knew she should remain quiet. She didn't want to attract the attention of another zombie, but she couldn't help the sounds she was making.
The night grew darker and colder. Her crying then combined with her shivering. She gripped her toes in her hands to keep them warm, trying to ignore the bloody skin – covered in open wounds.
Eventually, after crying and shivering for what felt like hours, she finally fell asleep.
"Sleep, my sweet girl. My flower," Mother quietly said to her, stroking Rapunzel's long blonde hair, as Rapunzel prepared to go to sleep.
"Mother?" Rapunzel asked, lifting her little head from her pillow.
"Yes, my flower?" Her mother tucked the blankets around her tighter.
"Will you tell me a bedtime story?"
"You really need to get to sleep," Mother responded.
"I know," a six-year-old Rapunzel said, sitting up in her bed, untucking the blanket her mother had so meticulously been folding against her body for the past couple minutes. "But I want a bedtime story. It helps me sleep."
Her mother sighed, sitting down on the bed next to Rapunzel.
Rapunzel's room was small. Wood paneling, patches of it covered in brown stains her mother told her not to worry about, ran up the walls, all the way to the ceiling. The ceiling leaked water, which fell into a bucket in the corner. The room had a musty smell, like dirt. Her bed was more like a cot - a rather springy, slightly uncomfortable cot. But Rapunzel was grateful for even that. Her mother had told her that she should be happy she didn't have to sleep on the floor. It was a luxury her mother was giving to her.
"All right, my flower."
Rapunzel smiled and snuggled into her bed, feeling the springs in her back.
"Once upon a time, there was a little girl, just like you." Her mother tapped her on the nose. "And she was a frightened little girl, so her mother came and saved her and took her to this wonderful cottage we live in now."
Rapunzel could hear the drip, drip, drip of the water falling through the ceiling and into the bucket below.
"Why did the mother save her daughter?" Rapunzel asked.
"Well," Mother said, "she saved her daughter from the evil people that would do her harm. You see, there were other adults in the little girl's life that weren't protecting her, so her mother saved her. Understand?"
Rapunzel nodded, but she didn't fully understand. She hadn't been with her mother long, but she already knew not to ask too many questions, otherwise she'd be punished.
"So now, this little girl had the most beautiful golden hair. And her mother knew that there are vile people in this world who would want a piece of that hair, and her face, and her body. So, the little girl was ordered to never leave her cottage, lest she'd run into the people intent on harming her. Now, the little girl is safe with her mother and they lived happily ever after. The end." Her mother leaned down and kissed Rapunzel on the head.
"Now sleep, my flower."
Despite thinking the story was boring, Rapunzel fell asleep, feeling her mother pet her hair until she had fallen into the darkness of dreams.
Rapunzel awoke, back in her own body. The root sticking into her back reminded her of where she was.
She knew she needed to keep moving, to find food and better shelter, but her entire body felt drained. Her fingers were ice cold; she didn't know how to make a fire – she didn't have any supplies with her.
There was a part of her that wondered what it would be like to just fall back asleep and never wake up. She didn't want to face what she had done, and she was struggling to move forward. But there was an instinct in her. An instinct to keep moving and survive.
So, she slowly stood up – her whole body aching from the running and zombie fight - and kept on walking.
She saw tree after tree after tree. Just trees.
Her stomach was past growling – now she was getting strangely used to the empty feeling in her stomach.
After walking and walking, she began to feel desperate. Would she ever make it out of these woods?
She picked up a rock and threw it – mostly for something to do – the rock only moving a few inches in front of her. She huffed.
Wiping a hand over her head, which was covered in sweat now that the sun had risen and was at high noon, she knew she needed water. But she didn't know where to find a creek or a river. Why hadn't any of her books taught her that? She at least understood which way north was, from her books about the sun and the stars. But it could be hours or days before she reached a road, water, or other people.
Just as her heart started pounding with desperation, she heard a noise. It wasn't the sound of a zombie – she knew that. It was… talking.
Someone was talking! Rapunzel's heart leapt at the prospect of running into another human. Maybe they could help her.
She moved forward, placing one foot in front of the other, trying not to make much sound. She didn't want to scare whoever might be there. Leaves crunched under her feet. Some of the wounds on her bare feet became scabs, which just made them itchy and painful. Her mother always told her she'd never need shoes. Why when she would remain in their home forever?
The voice got louder as she got closer. She realized it was just one person talking – the voice was young, that of a kid. She approached a tree, grabbing the trunk – a squirrel rushed to the top – and looked around the side of the tree.
A young boy was sitting on a rock, talking to himself. He had shockingly bright green hair. She never knew anyone could have hair that looked like that.
The boy was playing with a small knife, rocking it back and forth between his hands.
"What would you like?" the boy asked. Rapunzel frowned, looked around. She didn't see anyone else, and she was fairly positive he couldn't see her.
"Well, I would like a bowl of ice cream, thank you very much," the boy said.
"Well, here you go." The boy reached out his hands and cupped them around an imaginary bowl. He placed the 'bowl' in his lap, cupped one hand around empty air and in his other hand, he lifted an imaginary spoon and pretended to scoop up ice cream from the bowl. He placed the imaginary spoon in his mouth. "That is so good, thank you for that."
Rapunzel had never seen anyone play pretend like that before. When she was a little girl, Mother would scold her for playing with her imagination. She told Rapunzel to get her head out of the clouds. Rapunzel hadn't been around other kids before – well not since she was really little. A flicker of memory – a school and other children – flashed in her mind. She didn't quite understand it.
Rapunzel realized this poor boy was out in the woods all alone. She'd have to help him. But she was lost herself.
Rapunzel took in a breath and revealed herself from behind the tree. The boy saw her, eyes widened. They stared at each other for a moment. The boy was really skinny – he was clearly malnourished. How long had he been out here by himself? His face was covered in dirt.
Rapunzel started to say something, when in a fast moment, the boy lifted the small knife he was holding and threw it right at Rapunzel's head – his bony wrist flexing. Rapunzel gasped, threw her body to the ground, dropping the scissors. The knife thunked into the tree behind her, its hilt swaying from the impact.
She lifted her head to look at the boy, who was running away.
Rapunzel jumped to her feet and followed him.
"Wait!" she called after him, pushing past twigs and leaves. She kept glancing down as she ran to avoid stumbling over a root. Her feet were in pain. Every step caused a wince. The boy kept running. He was really fast for being shorter than her. His green hair was bright in the sunlight, making it easy for Rapunzel to never lose sight of him.
"I'm not going to hurt you. I'm lost myself." She huffed as a particularly sharp twig poked her in the cheek.
The boy crawled under a fallen tree, deftly avoiding getting stuck. Rapunzel had to hop over it to keep following. Her foot got stuck in a knot on the tree, causing her to stumble. She rightened herself and continued pursuing the boy.
The boy glanced back at her, eyes widening again. He picked up speed. Rapunzel took in a deep breath and pushed her legs to move faster, gaining ground on the boy.
She didn't want to scare him, but she did want to talk.
She reached her hand out and managed to grab the boy by the back of his jacket. The boy turned his body slightly and tried to smack her arm away. Rapunzel held on.
"I just want to talk to you. I'm lost and I need help," she said to him. "Please stop running."
"How can I trust you?" the boy asked, his voice wispy, his pace slowing.
"Because I'm a good person," Rapunzel said. "I would never hurt anybody."
The flash of those bloody scissors she left on the ground went through her mind.
"How do I know that?" The boy tried squirming away.
They were half walking, half running at this point; sort of stumbling into each other.
Rapunzel sighed. "You don't. But do you really want to be out here by yourself?"
The boy looked at her. Up close, she could see his eyes were also green. He struggled in her grasp a little more, then finally slumped, like he was giving up.
"No, I don't. But my mom warned me not to talk to strangers."
They stopped walking, Rapunzel still holding onto his jacket. She let go, taking a step back. The boy turned to face her fully.
Rapunzel was trying to think of the etiquette her mother taught her. Mostly it consisted of avoid everyone and anyone who wasn't her mother.
"My mother taught me to not talk to strangers too," Rapunzel said. "But I think in this instance, we can ignore that advice. I'm Rapunzel."
She held out her hand. He inspected it, then squinted at her. He slowly reached out his hand, clasping hers. His handshake was surprisingly tough for a small boy.
"I'm Pascal," he said, letting go of her hand. "I'm not to be messed with."
The seriousness of how he said it made Rapunzel smile. "Of course. Neither am I," she said, teasingly.
Pascal nodded. "Good. Then that's settled."
He sat down on a massive rock, swiping at a spider crawling across the surface.
"What are you doing out her by yourself?" Rapunzel asked.
"I could ask you the same question," Pascal responded.
She nodded, sitting down on a log. It shifted under her weight – like it was made of rot. "Fair enough. I'm lost."
"You said that," Pascal pointed out.
"Well, I left my home and I got stuck in this forest."
Pascal tilted his head to the side. "I left home too." He looked her up and down. "Where are your shoes?"
Rapunzel looked at her beaten and bloody feet. "I don't have any."
Pascal just shrugged.
"You seemed pretty handy with that knife back there," Rapunzel said, remembering the breeze near her ear as the knifed zipped by her head.
Pascal sat up straight, puffing his chest out. "I'm a Boy Scout. I know how to handle myself in the wild."
"What's a Boy Scout?" she asked. Her mother had never mentioned them before. She usually avoided any talk of boys with Rapunzel.
Pascal looked at her strangely. "You don't know what a Boy Scout is?"
Rapunzel shook her head.
"Well, I'm a member of The Boy Scouts of America. As a Boy Scout, I live to do my duties." He began ticking off his fingers. "I know how to make fire, where to find food, how to survive in the wilderness." He paused. "And I know how to help old ladies cross the street."
"How old are you?" she asked.
"I'm ten. Why? How old are you?" Pascal sounded suspicious.
"I'm eighteen. Does that bother you?" Rapunzel asked after he kept looking at her like she was someone to avoid.
Pascal immediately smiled and shrugged. "No. Just in my experience, I never trust anyone older than twenty."
Rapunzel frowned. "Why?"
"Because adults always tell me what to do. And I don't like being told what to do."
Rapunzel had a feeling Pascal could be either her saving grace or cause her a ton of trouble. Switching the subject, Rapunzel asked, "You said you know where to find food? I'm starving actually. I haven't eaten anything since yesterday." She pulled one foot into her lap, rubbing at the achy sole.
Pascal nodded. "I know where to find food. Here." He crouched to the ground and began digging in the earth. He pulled up a few worms – their bodies wriggling – and held them out to her. "Food. See?
Rapunzel tried not to shudder. She saw how proud Pascal seemed to be and she didn't want to offend him. She didn't know if he had another pocketknife somewhere hidden.
She picked up one worm, smiling tightly as Pascal nodded at her to eat it. She held it over her lips, forcing them to open. She placed the worm in her mouth, almost spitting it back out at the slimy texture. She could feel the worm moving around on her tongue. She bit into it and quickly swallowed.
"Good?" Pascal asked, smiling brightly at her.
"Mm hmm," Rapunzel mumbled. When Pascal turned his back to her, she couldn't help the full body spasm of disgust that hit her. Wiping her mouth, she asked, "So, Pascal, do you know how to get out of here? Where's the nearest road?"
Pascal nodded, munching on worms. They slithered between his fingers. "It's that way." He pointed in a direction, but all Rapunzel could see was more trees.
"How far away is it?"
"About a couple hours walk. We're not that far."
Rapunzel realized something wasn't adding up. "So, Pascal, if you know where the road is, then what are you doing out here by yourself?"
Pascal sighed, sounding twenty years older than his ten-year-old self. "I just had to get away. But the further I walked, the lonelier I got."
"Had to get away from what?"
"My parents."
Rapunzel nodded. She knew the feeling. Looking around at the trees surrounding them, she asked, "Do you want to help me reach the road? I could use some of your Boy Scouts' knowledge."
"You could? Well, a Boy Scout is always willing to help. Let's go."
Pascal started walking, leaving Rapunzel to jump off the log, not expecting it would be so easy to get Pascal to do what she needed. She winced when her feet touched the earth, unfortunately stepping on a twig.
"Do you need your knife? Its still stuck in that tree."
"No, I'm good. I have a lot more of them." He lifted his pant leg, revealing two pocketknives shoved into his sock. Rapunzel wasn't going to question where he got all those knives from.
"So, you've decided to trust me?" she asked, looking at Pascal after they resumed walking. His green head barely reached her shoulder.
"You're lost and absolutely helpless. You didn't even know you could eat worms. You'd die out here without my help."
Rapunzel pushed down her annoyance. "Then why did you throw a knife at my head?"
"Because I didn't know I could trust you yet." He shrugged. "Now I do. Someone as incompetent as you? You're no harm to me."
Rapunzel scoffed. "I'll have you know, my little green friend, I killed a zombie yesterday."
Pascal rubbed his hair. "That's impressive. I can work with that."
Rapunzel shook her head, walking around a puddle of muddy water. Pascal just walked right through it, she observed. He didn't seem the type to be bothered if he was dirty or not.
"You are a strange boy. But I can work with that," she teased.
The two of them continued on their walk, not talking much after that. Rapunzel didn't mind the quiet. She had spent a lot of time on her own, when her mother wasn't around – it was always up to her to keep herself entertained. She liked the presence of another human, especially Pascal. Sure, he was weird, but he had such an assuredness to himself that Rapunzel was a little jealous. She had never been sure of herself before. Her mother made a point of that.
After seeing tree upon tree, she finally noticed something that wasn't made of bark. The edge of a cement road peeked through the bush.
Rapunzel gasped, picking up speed, a smile on her face.
"Wait," Pascal said, holding out a hand to stop her. "You don't know what's out there. We can't just burst onto the road. We have to be cautious."
Rapunzel felt a strong heat settle on her face. Why hadn't she thought of that? Something that seemed like such simple logic was not obvious to her– she never had to worry about taking care of herself before. Mother always did that.
They edged towards the tree line, taking slow steps. Pascal leaned out into the road, looking back and forth. Not seeing anything he said, "Ok. Let's go."
Rapunzel was relieved to be free of the forest. She felt like she could finally breathe since that day before.
"We should find a place to sleep," Rapunzel said. "Night's starting to come."
They continued on the road, not encountering anything. It was nice not to worry about tripping over roots and branches hitting her face, though she did have to avoid stepping on broken glass and garbage. Her legs were getting tired again. A dull throb had entered her left hip.
"How did you get involved with the Boy Scouts?" Rapunzel asked quietly, not wanting to attract the attention of anything.
"My dad," Pascal responded. "He used to be a Boy Scout and so, I wanted to be one too."
"Where are you're parents?" Rapunzel looked at Pascal out of the corner of her eye. She didn't want to tread on dangerous ground.
"I don't really want to talk about it," Pascal muttered. It was the first time she had heard him sound hesitant.
Rapunzel dropped the subject. She understood the pain of talking about a parent. She could barely even think about her own mother.
After what had to have been an hour of walking down the road, they spotted a small barn – it was more like a shed – off the side of the road. It was dilapidated – the roof buckling in.
"It is shelter," Rapunzel said, knowing they didn't really have any other options. Rapunzel did not want to sleep outside again if she didn't have to.
They approached the shed slowly, listening for any signs of danger. When they reached the door of the shed, they couldn't decide who should open it.
"You're a Boy Scout," Rapunzel said.
"Well, you're older."
"I thought you weren't afraid of anything."
Pascal looked sheepish. "Yes, but I don't want to encounter a zombie."
"So, you'd leave me to do it?"
"Yep." Pascal looked way too proud of himself.
Rapunzel sighed, eyeing the door. She gripped the shed handle and gently opened the door. It creaked – the sound it emitted reminded her of the sound the zombie made. She peeked through the slit in the door, didn't see anything, and relaxed a bit.
Opening the door all the way, Rapunzel and Pascal held their breath, but no zombie came rushing out to greet them.
The shed was completely empty – no working supplies, no signs that anybody had ever been inside. The floor was made of dirt. Rapunzel and Pascal looked at each other.
Pascal nodded. "This will do."
The shed was musty – that door hadn't been open in a long time. Dust and cobwebs coated the walls.
"I'll make us a fire," Pascal said.
"You're not worried we'll burn down the shed?"
"If we keep the flame small enough, and if we take turns sleeping with one of us keeping watch on the fire at all times, then there's no worries."
Pascal and Rapunzel collected twigs and fallen tree branches that littered around the shed. Digging a pit in the ground for the fire, Pascal placed the pieces of wood into a triangle shape. He began rubbing two pieces together - his face full of concentration. After a few minutes where Rapunzel started to doubt Pascal's Boy Scout abilities, a small flame popped up, igniting with the other pieces of wood.
Pascal sat back and shot Rapunzel a smug grin. Way too smug for a ten-year-old, she thought.
"So, Pascal," Rapunzel said, after they got comfortable, Pascal leaning against the shed wall, Rapunzel laying down on the ground, her head resting on one arm, too tired to sit up, "when I found you, I noticed you were talking to yourself."
She saw him tense over the wall of flames.
"I just got lonely. That's all." Pascal didn't look at her.
She nodded, not pressing the subject.
"Earlier you said you left home," Pascal said. "Why did you?"
Rapunzel paused, thinking of a reply. "I think I realized it wasn't really home." She shook her head, shifting on the ground. "I don't know actually. I just feel… confused, I guess." She glanced over at Pascal. "I have an easy question. Why is your hair green? I didn't think anyone had hair of that color."
"I dyed it. I liked the color. Simple as that."
"I didn't know anyone could dye their hair. My mother would have been so upset with me if I ever did anything to mine."
"You have pretty hair," Pascal said, sounding almost embarrassed.
Rapunzel touched the ends of her blonde hair. "Thank you." She yawned, sinking deeper into the earth.
"You can sleep," Pascal said. "I'll keep first watch."
Rapunzel smiled, feeling for the first time at ease since leaving her home. Though just as she was about to close her eyes, she heard… people talking. Definitely a group of people.
She sat up quickly, while Pascal tensed. Pascal reached under his pant leg and grabbed one of his pocketknives. Rapunzel was cursing herself for leaving behind her scissors again.
They stayed still, listening as the group of people approached the shed. When the door swung open, all Rapunzel saw was a flash of white.
The zombie's head crumpled in on itself from the large, very sharp stick that had just been jammed into it.
"Good job, Lance!"
Lance, jerking the stick out of the zombie's head, turned to his friends, and bowed.
"Thank you. Thank you," he said in his deep voice. "I know I have the skill, but I also have… the POWER." He lifted his arms, the stick in one hand.
"What are you, Moses?" Cass asked, not looking impressed as she walked past him.
Lance slumped a bit.
Flynn, the one to congratulate him on the kill, patted him on the shoulder. "It's ok, Buddy. Cass just doesn't know how to have fun. That's pretty typical for a demoness."
Cass rolled her eyes, while Lance laughed. Max gave him a disapproving look but didn't say anything.
Flynn was quite proud of himself for that one. He'd take it as a win.
The group had just finished killing off a small horde of zombies – no more than six. There was always a high when you killed a zombie and Flynn had gladly taken two down with the help from his lucky girl.
His beautiful Colt Python.
He slipped the gun into his back pocket, but not before polishing it off with a dirty handkerchief. He had gotten the gun from some asshole he had run into a few years ago, who tried to pawn Flynn off into sex work. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Flynn had gotten away from the guy. No matter how much he prized his body, he didn't quite prize his body in that way. He stole the gun right along with getting his dignity back.
He stole the handkerchief from some creepy woman who wanted to use his heart in a ritual sacrifice to the gods.
One really does meet the strangest people when the zombie apocalypse happens.
Cass noticed Flynn attentively putting his gun away. "You done making out with that thing yet? We need to keep a move on."
"Oh Cassandra, I know you're just jealous." Flynn swaggered over to her. "You can kiss me. All you have to do is ask." He paused, holding a finger up. "On second thought, the notion of you kissing me makes me want to take a fork and ram into my tongue. You know… I'd imagine that's not an incredibly fun time."
Cass smiled sweetly at him, though it was loaded with falseness.
"We really do need to keep moving," Max said, his voice stoic and strong. "So, if we could stop bickering, that would be for the best." Max, always the voice of reason in their group.
"They're just sworn enemies, Max," Lance said, his stick swinging by his side as they started walking, sidestepping black blood, pus, and dead zombies. "They have to take the piss out of each other."
Max nodded, not understanding Lance's joke. He lifted his bow over his back, settling it into place. The arrows rattled in the quiver.
"Lance is right," Flynn said. "It's my main duty in life to make Cassandra mad. Watching her get angry is the highlight of my day."
"I'm amazed you two haven't killed each other yet," Lance said.
"I'm sure one of these days," Cass said, putting her sword in the scabbard on her waist.
"I wouldn't advise killing each other," Max said. "We need all the help we can get to reach Eden."
Lance and Flynn laughed at Max's inability to understand jokes. Cass just cracked a smile.
Eden – the supposed place where no zombies existed. The name was a little on the nose, but it was better than 'Heaven,' Flynn thought. Or 'The Good Place.' Or maybe even 'Happy Bumfuck Place.' Honestly, he hadn't really thought of a better name for Eden, so he wasn't gonna judge.
The whole group was tired from the zombie attack – they needed a place to rest for the night. They could sleep outside, but Lance was terrified of bugs and screamed like a banshee whenever a bug – let it be an ant, a spider, a worm – crawled over him. It really was an inconvenience.
They traveled down a paved road, forest on each side of them.
Flynn reached into his bag and grabbed some trail mix to snack on. They had raided a grocery story about a week ago, but supplies were starting to dwindle. They'd have to find another town soon.
"Trail Mix?" Flynn asked, holding some out for Lance.
"Don't mind if I do," Lance said, picking out an M&M.
"You always take the M&M's," Flynn muttered, popping the cashews, raisins, and granola into his mouth.
"Then maybe stop offering Lance trail mix," Cass said.
Flynn ignored her, sprinkled more trail mix into his hand and walked over to Max. "Trail Mix?"
Max nodded his thanks, held out his hand and took the whole serving – nuts, dried fruit, granola, M&M's, and all.
Flynn pointedly didn't offer Cass any trail mix. Hey, a man only has so much trail mix to go around…
Cass, also pointedly, grabbed a large protein bar out of her bag. She didn't even look in his direction as she took a big bite.
Lance chuckled. "She's got the good stuff, Flynn. I think Cass has you beat."
Flynn shook his head.
The group kept walking, hoping to find a town to hole up in for the night, but it seemed they had a long trek ahead of them. Night had begun to fall, leaving the air colder – the night creepier.
"I hate darkness," Lance whispered. For such a big guy, he sure was afraid of a lot.
"We should stop for the night and make a fire," Max said. "It will do us all good."
They all nodded.
Cass, who was a few feet ahead of the guys, stopped walking. "Boys, I think I see a shed up there." She pointed. "Maybe we can rest there, get out of the elements. You know… in case it rains."
"Cassandra, that is a brilliant idea," Flynn said. "I'm amazed you thought of that." He reached out to poke her on the nose. Cass smacked his hand away.
"Ow… that hurt," Flynn said, a pretend feebleness in his voice, holding his hand gently to his chest.
"I'm amazed you have any brain cells in that pretty head of yours to think of anything clever to say to me," Cass said. "Thinking must be so tough for you."
"Hey Lance," Flynn called out. "Cass thinks I'm pretty!"
"Cass, you big softy," Lance said, pulling Cass into a side hug. Cass patted him on the back before breaking away.
"I did not say I think he's pretty. Flynn is just projecting," Cass said, adjusting the sword at her hip.
Lance winked at Flynn. Flynn smirked.
"We should scope out the shed," Max said, bringing everyone back to reality. He went first, his bow in his hands, an arrow knotted in the string.
Flynn grabbed his flashlight from his bag, turning it on – he had stocked up on batteries from the previous town. The group approached the shed, not hearing anything.
Max nodded to everyone. Flynn reached for the door and opened it.
Inside, they heard a scream – distinctively female. Flynn lowered his flashlight and saw a young woman and a small boy sitting around a fire.
The girl was dressed in a dirty pink hoodie and jeans – her waist long blonde hair hanging over her shoulders. She didn't have shoes on, which Flynn thought was weird. Who goes without shoes in the zombie apocalypse? The boy had a stark green head of hair. He was skinny beyond imaginable. Flynn was surprised – it had been a while since his group had encountered other humans.
What was more surprising however, was the little boy who immediately stood up, a focused determination on his face. Flynn didn't think anything of it, until he saw a pocketknife coming right for his head.
I hope you enjoyed this first chapter! Let me know what you thought about it. As a reminder, I'll be releasing each new chapter once a week on a Saturday. Until next time.