Outbreak


Summary; On the night of the senior prom, a killer virus spread across America. Now, eight months later, a handful of survivors must band together to battle the deadly infection and the even deadlier victims.

Disclaimer; All HSM-ness belongs to Disney, the rest is all mine!

Rating; T, For violence and mild language.

Pairings; Chaylor, Troyella.


1. The Dilemma

We interrupt this broadcast to announce breaking news.

The president has declared a state of national emergency as scientists confirm that a mutated outbreak of the 'lyssa' virus, more commonly known as rabies, is sweeping the nation. The fatal illness, which was accidentally exposed to humans in a testing facility in California, is said to turn sufferers into what witnesses can only describe as 'savage cannibals'. In a shocking turn of events this afternoon, infected human beings began to devour the flesh of other living people. Sufferers are also said to sprout animal-like claws and fangs. Additional symptoms involve dilated pupils, fever, violent behaviour and frothing at the mouth. If you have been bitten, or are experiencing such symptoms, seek medical attention immediately. If not, you are advised to stay indoors and avoid anyone who may have had exposure to the virus at all costs. Although it has not been verified yet, it is evident that we have entered the stages of a widespread epidemic.

Wishing you a safe evening, this is Kylie Rainer reporting for Channel 4 News. Goodnight… And good luck.

Eight months later…

Caught in a vice like the deadly grip of an anaconda. Choking. Suffocating. The strong grasp around Troy's neck and chest was slowly rendering him breathless. The merciless hands wrenched their way around his body, squeezing him so tightly he had a flittering thought that he might just implode. Perhaps his bones would shatter and cave in on themselves. Or his internal organs might shrivel into an empty nothing. His initial panic at the surprise attack from behind was quickly snuffed by months of experience and, although powerless to the strong hold he was under, his time-established survivor's instinct kicked in almost instantly. The convulsion-like thrashing of his body was enough to loosen the arms that entrapped him. However his momentary advantage was quickly overthrown as, in one swift motion, he was hurled violently to the ground and spun around to face his attacker.

He collided with the dusty, wooden floor with a bone-cracking thud. All remaining air in his lungs was pushed outward in a pained sigh. His head made an impact with the floor, dizzying him with a single, hard, blunt blow just above where his spine met his skull. Above him, the ceiling distorted in shape and colour as the corners of his vision blurred. There was no time for him to recover. He'd barely sucked in a desperate gulp of air before a heavy load was placed on his abdomen. It didn't take him long to realise that his attacker was on top of him.

The hands returned to his neck. And this time, not even his frantic writhing could free him. Rather than choke him, the callous grip only held him down, pinning his shoulders to the ground.

Eyes; dark with fury, entered his vision. His heart experienced an uncharacteristic flutter at what he saw next. Teeth. Mouth open and teeth drawn like a mass of white knives. With an animal-like growl, the eager jaws came plummeting towards him. More specifically; towards his exposed neck.

He knew it was over when he felt the hot breath tickle his shoulder. He knew then that no amount of protest would save him. His fate was sealed. The darkness was coming. Soon, he'd be one of them.

With a defeated sigh, he nodded in surrender. "Okay." He mumbled with a tinge of shame at his failure. "You got me, Chad. You win." As usual.

Not at all surprised by this outcome, Chad seemed almost as disappointed as Troy. He leaned backwards to distance his mouth from Troy's neck. Worn out from the scuffles exertion, he remained where he sat; straddling the waist of his exhaustedly panting friend. Troy propped his legs upward so his feet rested flat on the floor and his knees jutted up to the ceiling to allow Chad a backrest.

"Think you got a bit carried away this time." Troy remarked with sarcasm. "A little too convincing." His hand travelled to his neck where Chad had left a light sheen of saliva and he rubbed the damp spot with disapproval. His fingers then continued upward until they reached the back of his head where a small bump was forming from his collision with the floor. "You really hurt my head, as well." He added, pushing on it to determine the tenderness of the bruise.

Chad dismissed the complaints with a careless shrug. "Don't be such a wimp." He gave Troy a gentle slap on the cheek before clumsily clambering to his feet. Once standing, he held a hand out to his floor-bound friend whilst simultaneously flashing one of his most innocent 'forgive me' grins. "What were you doing in here anyway?"

Troy took the outstretched hand and allowed himself to be pulled upright, his aching body groaning in protest at the movement. He brushed the dust from his faded and torn black shorts before answering; "I was looking for a snack."

Chad's audible gulp of dread went unnoticed as Troy crossed the large, dark room to continue his interrupted quest.

The place in which the boys resided was a moderately sized apartment in the north of Albuquerque. Before finding it, most of their searches for a place to stay had been fruitless simply due to the damage caused in the riots after the initial panic. It was certainly far from luxury but at least it was intact. Not to mention it's remoteness and Chad's unsubstantiated observation that it was 'completely zombie-proof'.

It was quite similar to a warehouse with its dusty wooden floors and huge, steel sliding door. There were only three rooms; a bedroom, an en suite bathroom and the room which the boys currently occupied. This was the main room of the apartment; damp and sparsely decorated. Dark, metal pillars held up the ceiling and the rotting wooden floor was decorated only with a stained and fraying rug. There was a couch in the centre of the floor, a low coffee table and a small kitchenette area in the corner. There was no electricity and the only running water was cold and sometimes dirty. On alternating nights, either Troy or Chad would have to sleep on the couch due to the fact they only had one bed. The windows were boarded up with stubborn, rotting wood which only allowed narrow streams of light to penetrate and, because there was no air conditioning, it often got overpoweringly stuffy. The darkness and the heat could get oppressive but they were used to it by now. And although the place had its problems, it was theirs. It was safe. And it was home.

Chad watched now in growing apprehension as Troy reached the crumby surface that signified the start of the kitchen. With each small cupboard that was opened, only to be closed upon being found empty, Chad tried to formulate a believable excuse. He could think of nothing. And, from the frenzy with which Troy was now foraging through each and every corner of the kitchen, he could tell that no kind of explanation would save him from one hell of a lecture. At the very least. He began to chew nervously on his bottom lip as he imagined the curious and angry frown forming on Troy's face. Suddenly, those last few cans of pineapple chunks didn't taste so great. Definitely not worth the trouble he was about to get into for finishing them.

Troy's stern voice came at once. "You ate it all, didn't you."

It wasn't a question at all. Troy knew. And Chad didn't even attempt to deny it. While Troy remained with his back to him, Chad shuffled his feet nervously like a scorned child. Their relationship was somewhat different to how it had been at high school. Because of the way things were, someone had to take on the role of the responsible one. Otherwise, they would never have survived. That someone, it was one day decided, was Troy. So, while Chad enjoyed and revelled in the adventure of the action film-like situation, Troy delved into the world of being sensible.

He wasn't boring or strict. He was the same Troy. He and Chad were just as close, if not closer, in their bond as brothers. However, if needs be, Troy could make and enforce rules. For their safety, of course. And for their survival. He could switch quite suddenly from playful friend to disciplinary parent figure. That wasn't to say that Chad always agreed with what he said. But he had the common sense that they both needed to get by. And Chad found something about that quite comforting.

"You finished off our last bit of food."

Behind the folds of his hooded, navy blue jumper, the muscles of Troy's back tensed. His hands gripped the surface in front of him and his knuckles whitened as he squeezed the stiff plastic. Then, suddenly, he turned to face his guilt-ridden friend. Like he usually did when frustrated, he bunched up his sleeves so they came to just below his elbows before throwing his hands onto his hips. He looked even more now like a reprimanding father and Chad, not prepared to take such patronising chastisement from a person of his own age, raised a challenging eyebrow in rebellion as if to say; 'Yeah? So what?'.

A stranger watching the boys may have presumed that a fight was about to ensue. They were both quite daunting with their muscular figures and badly suppressed annoyance. To anyone that didn't know them, they may even have seemed threatening. They had grown a lot since high school, both in physicality and in maturity. Out of necessity, their physical form had changed to transform them into muscled men. They'd always been athletic due to the sports they took part in at school. However, to survive they had to be strong, which meant that they dedicated time each day to keeping themselves in the best physical condition possible. They weren't pumped-up steroid hulks but they were no longer the lean, slim boys they had once been. They were warriors.

"We were gonna save it." He continued with exasperation.

Troy stood now, with his balled fists shoved fiercely into his pockets, at an impressive height of almost six foot. The hood of his dark jumper rested halfway over the crown of his head, covering the subtle spikes of his shorter hair. A few stray locks hung to halfway down his forehead in such a way that they seemed to be pointing at his clear, idyllic eyes and his cheeks and chin were shadowed with the beginnings of a neglectful stubble. The scarred, bare skin of his toned chest was exposed beneath a low-cut, white vest which he wore under the un-zipped hoodie to match his white and grey Converse. His outfit of found items of clothing was finished off with a pair of black cargo shorts which hung loosely around his waist.

"I was hungry." Finally came Chad's inadequate explanation.

Chad too had changed in appearance in the months since high school. His hair; no longer framing his face or hanging in uncontrollable curls over his eyes, was drawn back into a loose and puffy ponytail. On his top lip, a thin moustache had formed and dripped neatly from the corners of his mouth into a stubbly goatee. He wore only black now; black jeans, black Adidas sneakers and a tight, black t-shirt decorated on the front with the bold white words 'I was told to grin and bear it'. All black. This was for no reason other than his warped theory that black clothes never got dirty. In his opinion, the longer he wore them, the stronger they got. Consequently, he had not once had to undergo the chore of washing clothes.

Troy tilted his head to the side, as if expecting more. When he received no further justification he looked around him as if it would be found within the deep cracks of the walls or between the sofa cushions. "That's it?" He asked with a disbelieving shrug when his search proved unsuccessful. "That's all you have to say?"

His chest rose and fell heavily as he tried to keep his bubbling frustration and panic hampered down. His cold, blue eyes cast a penetrating gaze through Chad who was currently trying to maintain his feigned lack of bother. "You do realise," he continued. "We're gonna have to go out now for fresh supplies."

Chad shrugged. The thought had occurred to him but hadn't yet sunk in. It had been so long since they had needed to go outside. Something in him kind of wanted to leave the uncertain safety of the indoors.

"Out." Troy reiterated. Both hands pointed at the door for emphasis. "Out there."

'Out there' wasn't a place one ventured often. In fact, it was a place to be avoided at all costs. Street after street of heart-breaking, abandoned ruins and remains. Ominously dark empty buildings whose photo frames and rotting furniture told the history of its forcibly departed inhabitants. Motionless roads, black with ashes, and silent as if frozen in time. It was a ghost town. Disturbingly tranquil. Wrong. And besides, they were out there. Which made it a perilous, deadly war-zone. They were danger. They were--

"It's not that bad." Chad dismissed, already grabbing his bag from where it lay prepared, propped up by the door. In a way, he was even excited. The prospect of stepping outdoors, after so long of being cooped up in stuffy darkness, was becoming an increasingly agreeable idea.

Troy, on the other hand, could barely believe his ears. He too hated their confinement to the indoors but he'd rather remain in there than kill himself by leaving. "Not that bad?" Chad seemed to have forgotten their last trip to the nearest supermarket. They had barely made it back alive.

There was an indescribable danger that lurked outdoors. Waiting. For fresh meat. You see; those who were unfortunate enough to be infected by what experts called Lyssacarnis, did not die as expected. They became monsters in a human shell. With no emotions. No memories. Just a hunger. Something in the mutation of the virus gave them an undeniable appetite for flesh. Human flesh. And so they devoured any person they could find. Like savages. And they were out there. Everywhere. In their hundreds. Thousands. In fact, as far as Troy and Chad knew from their months of isolation, they were the only two normal people left. They were the only survivors. And, for that reason, it was in their best interests to avoid putting themselves in danger of those cannibalistic beasts. Savages.

As any sane person would be, Troy was afraid of the Savages. He wasn't too shy to admit it either. His biggest fear however, was not that his life would be prematurely ended by one of the beastly creatures, but that he would become one. He'd rather die than have his life take such a disgraceful turn. One bite and, like a vampire, he'd be transformed.

"Not that bad?" He repeated, still stunned by disbelief. Chad didn't seem to care about their welfare or about the future. Either that or time had wiped his memory of the dangers that he claimed weren't 'that bad'. Then another idea came to Troy's mind. "Hold on." He thought aloud, hoping that his assumption would be wrong. "You want to go outside. Don't you?"

Chad knew what answer Troy wanted. Unfortunately, it wasn't one he could truthfully give. "What, and you don't?"

To Chad, this unique opportunity was not one to be passed up while rotting away indoors. There were zombies out there- or close enough- ready to be battled with. His and Troy's fantasies of being superheroes could finally come true as they conquered evil or at least died trying. But, no. They had to play it safe. Hide in the dark like cowards. They were surviving. But at what cost? They'd lost their freedom. Their dignity. And, if this was how they were going to continue living, Chad would rather die.

"Of course I don't." Troy answered incredulously. He had a confusedly wild look about him as his mouth gaped and eyebrows rose as far as they could. "Do you know the chances of us coming back alive?"

Chad shrugged. He didn't. And he didn't care to know either. "But that's all part of the fun." To die like a soldier in war. It was honour.

"Fun." Troy wished he could rewind time and replay that moment, just to check if he had actually heard that absurd word.

Chad nodded in unwanted confirmation. "Yeah," he answered with growing enthusiasm. "The adventure."

In anguished reply, Chad was met with an overly exaggerated roll of the eyes and a dismal shake of the head. Troy was unsure of why they were arguing as he knew they would eventually have to go out anyway. The sad truth of it was that they were out of food and, unless they braved the outdoors, they would starve. Not to mention the fact that this was the exact argument he and Chad had had no more than a month ago when their supplies had, like now, run dangerously low. The outcome was always the same.

Both of them defeated, the urgency of their discussion died down and Chad heaved a tired sigh. "I'm bored, Troy." He admitted solemnly. In way of entertainment in their household, there simply was none. "Dying of boredom. I can't cope locked up in here like…" he paused broodingly. "Like… the Lady of Shallot-."

Troy cut in, although not at all interested in who he presumed Chad had just made up. "Who?"

"Exactly." Chad gasped in explanation. "Do you know what I did this morning to pass the time?" It was rhetorical and he continued without pause. "I counted the hairs on the back of my hand." As if for confirmation, he raised his hand for Troy to see. "Fifteen times." He added with a desperate exasperation. "Fifteen times, Troy."

Troy tried and failed to suppress his smile. "Really?" He chuckled with a hint of curiosity.

"Yeah." Chad was less than impressed by the lack of expected empathy. "There's seventy-two."

Inquisitively, Troy raised his own hand so it was a few inches from his face and inspected it with scrutiny. He'd never thought about it before but, now that he had taken a close look, he found that his hand was actually relatively bald. Certainly without enough hair to match Chad's impressive seventy-two. He wondered also what the hair on ones hand could say about their character, and if it said anything at all. Did the fact that Chad had more hair mean that he was more of a man? Or perhaps he was more primitive? And, what exactly is the purpose of—

"Troy!"

Troy looked up to see an unimpressed Chad waving at him as if to break him out of a daze. In realisation of his derailed train of thought, he dropped his hand to his side and made a quick mental note to count his own finger hairs when he got the chance. Then, to get straight back on track, he presented a forward and daring question. "So you're not afraid to die?" He asked through analysing, narrow eyes.

He was almost afraid of the answer because he knew what it would be. He hadn't decided yet whether Chad was extremely brave, naïve or just stupid. He hoped for one of the latter two because, considering the first; that Chad welcomed death out of courage, made him feel very cowardly.

"You never know," Chad unintentionally avoided the question, not realising its significance to Troy's state of mind. "The Savages coulda died off weeks ago," he began to spout one of his supposedly-thought-out notions which he made a habit of coming up with when not occupied with trivial things like hair counting or exercise. "And we just don't know 'cos we're in here."

Barely listening and disappointed at not receiving an answer to his question, Troy bluntly rejected Chad's latest idea. "I don't think so somehow."

Chad wasn't at all deterred by Troy's lack of enthusiasm. He was off now, on an unlikely-theory tangent. "Or maybe we'll find another group of survivors." He gasped excitedly at his own words as if the outrageous thought had just occurred to him. His face was decorated with a child-like grin and eager, sparkling eyes. "Can you imagine that? Like, maybe we'd even find people we knew. Maybe we'll find-."

He suddenly silenced, mentally chiding himself for allowing such a thought. His smile dropped as his excitement instantly dissipated. Although fully aware that he had gotten carried away with himself, Troy's reproving eyes told him so anyway. Chad had just done the unforgivable. He had broken their most important unspoken rule. He had reminded them of who they had left behind.

They hadn't seen Gabriella or Taylor in eight months. Not since that night. Not since the night of the outbreak. In the panic of it all, they had been separated. The girls were lost in the sea of stampeding people; a mixture of the healthy and the infected. And, where the boys managed to escape, Taylor and Gabriella were dragged into the very heart of it. Helpless. They had no chance.

In events like that, people often describe it as a blur. Troy wished the same could be said for him. He remembered every detail. Every single detail. He remembered how beautiful she'd looked that night. How her eyes sparkled as they danced. Her soft warm, hand being torn from his. The very last time they would touch. Her terrified screams. Those desperate pleading eyes. He'd think about her defencelessness. How she'd so frantically needed him. And how he hadn't saved her. He didn't manage to rescue her.

These thoughts never left him. Not even in sleep. There was no escape from the memories. The harsh silence was unbearable in its way of making them think and Troy, finding it overpoweringly unforgiving, spoke simply for the sake of making noise.

"You armed?" He asked.

Chad opted for a wordless response to lessen the chances of any more unwanted comments slipping out and simply tapped a bulge at the side of his waistband. The guilt could be read on his face, even from where Troy stood on the other side of the room. Chad's eyes had darkened and his brow was furrowed in a concentrated frown.

What Troy didn't realise was that Chad's bravery was a front. It was to make up for the spinelessness that had cost his girlfriend's life. His fearlessness of death was simply out of a lack of anything to live for. And his eagerness for adventure was just to take his mind off of Taylor. He hated himself. For being a coward. A failure. He fled and left her. And not a day went by that he didn't want to kill himself for that. He often wondered if he deserved to live. After leaving her for dead, what right did he have to survive? He'd let fear overrun him and now, she was gone. It was his fault.

In a matter of seconds, the atmosphere around them had changed from one of apprehension and excitement to one of intense regret and self-loathing. Suddenly, their suicidal mission seemed like less of an unspeakable idea. In fact, Troy was feeling up for anything to take his mind elsewhere. Maybe an adventure was what he needed.

He crossed the room and snatched up the bag that Chad had prepared for him. It was empty but for a bottle of water, a torch and his weapon of choice. The rest of the space in the oversized backpack was for food. They had no other way of transporting it.

Chad allowed a small smile at his triumph in silently persuading Troy. Then, he began to unbolt the many mechanisms that locked the door. Each echoed clunk of the rusted metal brought a daunting burst of reality with it. Once they were outside, anything could happen. It was only now starting to dawn on them that this may be the last time they stood together in their apartment. This may be the last choice they'd ever make.

The final lock was unlatched. All that stood between them and danger was an inch of steel. Chad couldn't stifle the trembling of his hand as he reached, almost in slow motion, for the door handle. He clasped the iron bar tightly, took a deep breath and began to pull.

"Wait!" Troy put a firm and urgent hand on Chad's shoulder.

Chad turned to look inquisitively at his friend over his shoulder but did not release the door handle from his grip.

Troy was unsure of why he had stopped Chad. He felt that, perhaps they needed to say goodbye. And perhaps they should also bid farewell to their abode. To step out there so suddenly without any goodbyes— it just felt wrong. Because, chances were, they'd never come back here.

"If we die…" He started quietly. He avoided Chad's gaze by picking a stray thread on the strap of his bag. He wanted to tell Chad how great a friend he had been. He wanted to say that there was nobody in the world that he would rather have spent the last eight months with. He wanted to tell Chad that, had it not been for him; his best-friend, his brother, he probably would have given up hope a long time ago. Unfortunately, he couldn't find the words.

Chad rolled his eyes impatiently and turned back to the door. "We won't." He replied frankly. He knew what Troy had wanted to say, simply because he felt the same. He just wanted to spare his friend the torture of having to express it all aloud. And he wasn't really in the mood for a soppy departure.

With no need for further hesitation, Chad began to pull on the heavy steel with both hands. It slid open with a churning and reluctant moan. And now there was no barrier. They were out. Alone. With no walls to hold them. No locks to protect them. No certainty of their own futures. They were out. And anything could happen.


A/N: I was so pleased to get all those reviews and story alerts! Special thanks to those who submitted reviews; corbinsbabygrl1, MUW D'Bellegirl, chaylorXtraylorlover101, 2pinkstar and 7blackberry(the Zac Efron ice-cream was much appreciated :P), xAdorkablex48, lilmissmonique and ChaylorTwilightQueen10. You all have my unconditional love!

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