A/N: Thanks for the kind feedback! :D Here's another chapter. Any reviews or comments are accepted, though flames I shall use for barbeque. Enjoy!
Nick entered the kitchen to find Louis and Zoey eating contentedly on the simple meal Rochelle had prepared for them. He noted subconsciously they were both seated next to each other on the same crate (this was because there were no chairs around, but crates stacked atop one another).
Taking a plastic plate, Nick took what he wanted and found an unoccupied crate, before sitting down and tucking into his meal. Very soon Rochelle appeared, with Francis following up from behind her.
Rochelle helped herself and sat down next to Nick. The conman realized the tan-skinned woman eyed Francis suspiciously as he settled down on a crate opposite them.
Nick suspected Rochelle was annoyed of Francis' flirts, but it wouldn't hurt to have her admit it. He swallowed what was in his mouth and nudged her lightly, smirking. "There are like, a dozen other crates, Sweetheart."
"Nick, I know you know why I'm doing this," Rochelle murmured, rolling her eyes. As she chewed, she smirked at him and said, "Besides, I'd leave this empty spot for Ellis."
Nick grunted and looked away, hoping the slight tint of his cheeks wasn't visible to her.
"Where is Ellis, anyway?" Rochelle asked, giving Nick a suspicious glance.
"Beats me," Nick shrugged, though he was slightly worried as well. He asked, "What about Coach? It isn't like him to skip a meal, however simple it may be."
"He's taking over Francis' shift at steering the boat," Rochelle explained, "I'll bring food up to him later. Somebody has to steer the boat, right?"
At this moment, Ellis walked in through the entrance, and upon seeing the food, his face lightened up.
"Oh man, I've never felt so hungry!" He rushed to get a plate, and took up what he wanted.
He sat on the crate next to Francis, enjoying his meal. Nick, for some reason, was irritated by how casual Ellis was, especially since he was still embarrassed having been caught next to him in his bed.
The conman suppressed his irritation. His gaze wandered from Ellis and Francis to Louis and Zoey.
"Those two are really close," Rochelle whispered, rather excitedly, when she followed Nick's gaze. "I'm willing to bet that's not just friendship between them."
"Ellis told me so, too," Nick replied, subconsciously taking a bite of the chicken.
He did not realize what he had divulged until Rochelle said in a sharp but low tone, "Wait, Ellis said so? You asked him?"
Both Nick's and Rochelle's eyes glanced at Ellis, and satisfied he was distracted in his meal, Nick continued with a small grumble. "Yeah, I asked him—so what?"
"What did he say about Zoey?" Rochelle inquired eagerly.
Nick frowned and raised an eyebrow at the curiosity radiating from her. Seeing his expression, the brunette rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Well, excuse me for asking about your private conversations with Ellis."
After a small growl, Nick sighed and replied softly, "Ellis said his attraction for Zoey died away, and that he didn't want to get in the middle of her relationship with Louis. You satisfied?"
Rochelle simply grinned, and this made Nick smile, too. "Geez, you really have that peremptory manner of a reporter."
"Oh, don't bring up the subject of my job," Rochelle grumbled as she sipped some water.
Nick was silently amused by how her mood changed at the mention of her job prior to the apocalypse. Rochelle had always given out hints of how eager she was to climb the career ladder.
Francis paused halfway through his meal and glanced up at Louis and Zoey. The two were chatting to each other in a low tone, and it was obvious Louis was telling her a story, for the dark-haired girl was giggling and smiling.
He was jealous, yes, but never was he going to admit it. It bewildered him—what did Zoey see in Louis? He was a pain in the ass in Francis' eyes. So annoyingly optimistic, so irritatingly talkative. Yet, Louis was getting along so well with Zoey. He was quickly tightening their relationship, getting closer to her every time they chatted…Francis felt, in a way, as though he was losing a battle.
And the fact his romantic interest, Rochelle, was quite a challenge! He knew that one day Rochelle will fall for him, but that day was still a long way to go. How does Louis do it? Should he imitate him and treat Rochelle like a friend and teammate? Eventually, just like Zoey for Louis, Rochelle will fall for him, too, right?
"Hey, Ellis," Francis muttered, and Ellis looked up from his meal, still chewing. The younger man had a curious look on his face.
"What's up with Rochelle?" The biker asked, rather reluctantly. He felt embarrassed for having to ask for help to win a woman (which was something he had never done before—he was always so successful with ladies). "She looks kinda irritated every time I flirt with her…"
Ellis smirked and replied in a low tone, "Well, first thing' first, Ro's got'a good head on 'er shoulders, ya see. She hardly even knows ya, Francis, and she feels if she doesn't know somebody, it's ridiculous ta be so…infatuated with 'em."
Francis was riled by Ellis' honesty. The hick continued, oblivious of Francis' annoyance. "If ya really wanna approach 'er, you gotta take it slow an' steady. Take the time ta know 'er…an' she'll eventually start likin' you."
Louis and Zoey simultaneously brought their plates to the sink.
"Let me wash those plates for you," Louis offered, taking Zoey's plate. He rolled up his sleeves and turned the tap on to wash the dishes.
Nick and Francis scoffed, for it was, to them, pathetic of Louis to do so. But Rochelle thought otherwise.
"You're such a gentleman, Louis," She smiled warmly. "Zoey's so lucky to have you."
Zoey blushed, whereas Louis (with his back facing the whole crowd) seemed to have staggered in his movements, though his face wasn't visible.
Ellis smiled at Zoey's embarrassment, but his thoughts were immediately diverted elsewhere. "Where's Coach?"
"Upstairs," Nick replied.
"I almost forgot," Rochelle chuckled. She looked hopefully at Zoey and smiled apologetically. "Zoey, honey, can you do me a favour and bring some food and water up to Coach? He's just sacrificing himself up there steering the boat."
"Of course," Zoey nodded. After the plate of food and galss of water was ready, she turned to Francis, who was sheepishly slipping his empty plate into Louis' hands. "Francis, let's go up to Coach."
The biker was relieved to go with her since it was an opportunity to escape Louis' glare at the extra plate in the sink. The two disappeared up the flight of stairs, and Louis, done with the small task, yawned heavily.
"I'll be going to sleep, guys," Louis said, trudging out of the kitchen.
Nick was done with his food by the time Louis entered the dorm. He stood up, put his plate in the sink and washed his hands. The conman turned around and walked to the entrance of the kitchen, and at this time, Zoey descended the stairs and entered the dorm.
Seeing her enter the dorm made Nick grimace. It would take at least a day for him to fully recover from his embarrassment of being caught next to Ellis.
He walked up the flight of stairs and joined Coach and Francis. Coach was still eating by one of the chairs whereas Francis had reclaimed his place by the steering wheel. Nick slumped down heavily on one of the chairs, leaning into the comfort that the leather offered.
"So, saw you talking with Rochelle just now," Francis said, glancing at Nick.
A smirk formed on the conman's face. "Oh, you jealous?"
The biker glared. "Jealous, my ass."
Nick chuckled, pleased with himself. "So, am I wrong when I say you were talking to Ellis just now because of Rochelle?"
Francis scoffed. "Shut up, Colonel Sanders."
"So I'm right, Greaseball."
"Shut up, before I make you shut up."
"Go to hell, monkey. She's way out of your league."
"Oh, we'll see."
"We don't have to see. I already know."
"You've only known her for, what, two weeks?"
"And you, for, what, fifteen minutes?"
Coach, irritated by their pointless argument, interrupted them. "Would you two just be quiet and let a tired man enjoy his meal? If this goes on, I'll make sure to never put you two in the same room."
The two men immediately fell silent. Nick did so because Coach said so, and in a way, Nick respected Coach as his leader.
Francis thought Coach was similar to Bill in several ways. He had every aspect of a great leader. Just like Bill, Coach was selfless and responsible, and though Francis didn't know Coach as much as Nick did, he respected him anyway. The thought of Bill saddened Francis to a certain extent.
Back down in the kitchen, Ellis was washing his, Rochelle's and Nick's plates.
"I'm sorry if this embarrasses you," Rochelle started, apologetic in tone, "But…how did Nick end up next to you?"
Ellis blushed a bit, recalling how snug he felt hugging what he thought was a pilow that radiated warmth. He was silly, so very silly…
"Nick was real uneasy, so he kept on shiftin' an' changin' his position, an' it was real hard for me ta sleep 'cause he was movin' so much," Ellis tried hard to sound casual, and was satisfied with his tone. "So I hinted ta him that he could sleep next ta me if he wanted ta…"
Rochelle chuckled, and Ellis spun around. His face was red and he sputtered out hastily, "I-I mean nothin' else, alrigh'! I was goin' ta shift a bit so there'd be space for him, an' between he an' I so he would feel comfortable. He didn't wan'ta, so I just w-went ta sleep!"
"So, you're telling me that Nick came to you, not you came to Nick?" Rochelle was evidently bewildered. Her disbelief was obvious.
Ellis nodded with a small shrug, and Rochelle chuckled, though still shocked. "Strange…I never thought it that way. Maybe Nick's starting to have a soft spot for you, Ellis."
"Whaddaya mean?" He asked suspiciously.
Rochelle smiled, mischief flickering in her brown eyes. "You'll find that out for yourself."
There was some silence between them, before she got up and stretched. "I'm going to take a nap. Wake me up in ten minutes, will you?"
"Of course," Ellis nodded.
"Thanks," Rochelle smiled, and disappeared out the door and into the dorm room.
The Survivors finally reached land the next morning. After a few lucky guesses, Ellis somehow got the boat to stop just as they reached the docks. He, Nick and Francis stared out the window into the small town following the docks.
"Well, looks abondoned."
"Thanks for stating the obvious, Suit."
Ellis rolled his eyes. "Jus' stop arguin', and let's wake everyone up."
Very soon, all seven of them were awake and ready to leave the safety of the boat. They removed the barricade and hopped from the boat onto the wooden bridge leading to shore. Cautiously, the seven ventured into the town.
It was a small place, with no tall buildings or skyscrapers or noticable supermarkets and such. The terrace on either side of the road mainly consisted of shops and outlets. Tall, green trees, lined along the road, adorned the place.
However, it was deserted. The windows of the shops were cracked and yellowish with a few weeks' dust, cars were still where their owners had abondened them, tyres punctured and windshields smashed in, dried leaves littered the road and flew when the wind blew, the decay and depression hung in the atmosphere…
"There aren't any zombies here," Zoey pointed out cautiously, looking around.
"Maybe somebody cleared this town out?" Rochelle suggested. "It's such a small place—the residents must've been small in number."
"Well, whatever the mystery, we'll figure it out in the saferoom," Nick called out at the sight of the hurried graffiti of a safehouse, with an arrow pointing ahead.
"There should be some sort of map there," Louis nodded. Everybody increased their pace to quickly get to safety.
There were no zombies—no common infected littering the streets, no special infected crying out or making sounds to warn them, no Tanks huffing out and grunting, no Witches wailing and sobbing. It was quiet...so quiet. It was almost calm…but that peace was dreadful.
Before long, the seven reached what looked like a home. It was very small from the outside—only one storey and small in diameter. The white paint was peeling from the walls, as a result from years of rain and hot sun. Though it looked shabby and in a bad state of disrepair, it was, to them, a strong place to hide out. The door was replaced by the familiar red metal.
There were three bodies outside, lying side by side.
Dreadful silence settled between the Survivors. The bodies were covered with white sheets of what looked like blankets, with blood-stained areas at some spots. Although they knew nobody could hold out so long, every one of them was emotionally touched by how easy it was for a loved one to die.
"If there were four people on this team, whoever's left is all alone…" Louis said, his voice heavy with feeling.
"Let's get inside," Coach shook his head and walked past the bodies, reaching out for the handle of the red, metal door. He pushed, but the door wouldn't budge.
"Somebody must still be inside," Zoey reasoned. "The door must've been barricaded."
Francis started banging on the door. It carried on for a few minutes, and after plenty of threats and pleads, they came to the conclusions to break their way in.
The men worked together, and after some strong tries, the door finally gave in. The cupboard which barricaded it fell inside the room with a loud thud. The Survivors filled the saferoom and Nick, who took the rear, closed the door behind him.
The house was large and spacious—mainly because it was hardly furnished. The main room had only a couch on one side, a small round table with two chairs, and a rack opposite the couch. There were a few other doors leading to various rooms. On the rack were plenty of health packs (with a few defibrillators), adrenaline shots and pain pills. Guns and an ammo dump were on the floor.
There was blood from the entrance leading into the saferoom. Ellis, having been one of the first few which entered, followed the trail of blood to the sofa.
"Holy shit," He breathed out, eyes widening with horror. The others followed his gaze.
On the sofa was a young woman lying at full-length. Her skin was pale, scratched and bruised. Her brown hair was slightly scarlet with blood. With eyes closed, hands laced together across her stomach, and a pool of blood soaking her abdomen and a part of the sofa, it was obvious she was already dead.
"Shit, the last of the team," Nick cursed, a heavy feeling settling in his chest. So this was where the fourth member was. The other three died outside…and the fourth bled to death in the saferoom.
The terrible silence reclaimed the atmosphere between them. It was a horrible moment, one heavy with sadness and regret…
"What should we do with the body?" Rochelle asked, her voice soft and slightly cracked.
"Let's…not disturb it," Coach said, looking away to approach the nearby round table. "Respect 'er, young 'un."
The members moved away from the dead woman and approached the shelf to pick up supplies. Coach, on the other hand, found some interesting items on the round table. There was a compass, a pen, and a folded paper slightly stained with blood.
He picked up the paper, unfolded it and discovered it was a letter of some kind.
He read a part of it, before calling the other members of the team. They crowded around him, and Coach proceeded to read it out loud.
'To whoever finds this,
My whole team is dead. My little sister is dead, so is her husband, and so is her husband's brother. I am alone, and I have been injured badly by a Tank. Damn those zombies. Damn CEDA. Fuck the military…
I'm a wealthy young woman. I own a private island just off the coast of this used-to-be cozy little town. It's west of this land. A very small island, really. It used to be a holiday getaway for Mei and I. I'm very much sure that water, electricity and food are available there. Only two weeks ago did the servants looking after the island and house quit their jobs.
There is no point in my living. Whoever finds this is welcome to take refuge in my resort home. I also own a yacht, just by the docks. A compass should be right next to this letter. Please respect whatever you find in the home.
Funny how the docks are so close, yet so far. Escape was just a few minutes away…if only we lasted long enough to get there…'
"It ends there," Coach said, folding the paper. He turned to his team. Everybody had been listening attentively, and the last paragraph had a heavy impact on them.
"Well, let's make sure her sacrifice wasn't nothing," Nick said, glancing at the dead woman on the sofa. "Unless if anybody has better ideas, let's go to this island."
After collecting the supplies they needed, the team reluctantly left the saferoom. As they passed by the three bodies, Rochelle stared at them with a sad gaze. It was ghastly to think the dying woman had to watch her dear ones die.
They re-arrived at the docks, and quickly spotted a sleek yacht which they hadn't noticed before. Without hesitation, they climbed onto the medium-sized boat, and with some help from Nick, Ellis gained the satisfaction of steering the yacht.
Coach handed the hick the compass. "Here ya go, young 'un. Let's head west."
As the boat left the unknown, deserted town and headed west, the Survivors sat down and allowed their thoughts to wander elsewhere.
The sky was a healthy azure. Fluffy white clouds hung high in the endless space above them and birds, in flocks, flew and chirped in the distance, adding to the environemnt of the sparkling sea. A soft wind blew and provided a cool moment amid the warm atmosphere, due to the brilliant rays of the bright sun. The proper feeling of peace pervaded them and they missed the normal, everyday things they've taken for granted.
They drove for about two hours. The sun had reached its highest point and indicated noon, though the rays weren't as warm as in the morning. The clouds were thicker and provided shade for them. At this moment, Ellis noticed a chunk of land ahead of them.
"Well, I've been heading west all this time," Ellis said, catching the others' attention. "That should be the island."
In less than fifteen minutes, the seven drew near the island. There was an ordinary beach, only with a wooden bridge built in the center of the beach, stretching out towards sea. Ellis stopped the yacht by the bridge and they alighted.
At first glance, it definitely looked as though the island was just another ordinary island. There was a dense jungle ahead of them covering about seventy-five percent of the island from their view. However, Zoey saw past this disguise.
"There's a path over there," She pointed in a direction. True enough, there was a narrow clearing between the thick bushes and tall trees, leading deeper inside. There were unlit candles on large sticks along the path, which futher assured them.
They followed the trail. A few minutes into walking, they finally discovered the 'resort home' mentioned in the letter.
At the end of this path, came the view of a magnificent home. It was a very large home, with open windows and welcoming glass doors, displaying luxury and class in the middle of the thick words.
A turned-off fountain stood in front of the entrance, its marble carved brilliantly. The floor consisted of expensive, carved and coloured concrete and marble tiles. A few balconies stood out from various rooms. The house was in excellent and beautiful shape, though no lights were on.
"Holy," Nick's jaw dropped and his eyes widened. Back when he was gambling day and night, he always wanted to buy a home like this. Now his dream house was right in front of him.
Francis chuckled. "I could get used to this."
They ventured through large glass doors and into the mansion. They found themselves in a grand room, a large chandelier hanging from the ceiling, two hallways on their left and right, with two staircases in front of them. These flights of stairs led to the upper floor, which were carpeted and led to another two hallways, again on the left and right.
"Wow," was all Rochelle could say.
Nick found a few switches by the entrance and turned all of them on. The chandelier turned on, much to their happiness and surprise, along with a few wall lamps upstairs and in the hallways.
"So…" Ellis could hardly contain his excitement, and he eagerly turned to Coach. "Let's explore this awesome house!"
"Of course, young'un," Coach smiled, wagging his head. In his heart, he thanked the stranger who kindly gave up her island.
The group split up and they explored the large place. It was only a two storey home, though it was wide and lavish. They regrouped at the entrance about half an hour later, and having split into different directions, put forward newfound information.
On the left hallway of the first floor were two large rooms, three small bedrooms and a few bathrooms. One of these large rooms was completely clear, except a high-powered stereo by the side, so it was presumed a room for dancing and entertainment purposes.
The other large room was a library. The three small bedrooms were concluded to be guest rooms.
On the right hallway of the first floor were the kitchen, dining room and a hallway leading to the back of the house. The kitchen had a freezer (which was, to their surprise, turned on) with perfectly preserved goods. Kitchen appliances worked, and there were also unfrozen foods in some crates.
The dining room was grand and large enough for a party of a dozen. The hallway between the kitchen and the dining room led to a small swimming pool, which was dry and dirty with weeks of neglect.
It was evident all of the master bedrooms were on the second floor, both on the right and left hallways. There were, altogether, four master bedrooms. Each of them had almost the same layout: a luxurious double-bed, a private bathroom, a balcony beholding the view of the back of the house, a large wardrobe, a sofa and bookshelf, and a large painting.
The paintings differ with each master bedroom. Each one was a portrait of a different person with the name of the person at the bottom.
"Let's claim bedrooms," Rochelle grinned at their reunion. "Zoey and I are taking up the master bedrooms. One on the left hallway and one on the right hallway."
"What?" Francis exclaimed in disbelief. "That ain't fair!"
"Well, we just figured the portraits in each room is a portrait of its previous owner," Zoey explained with a small smile. "Two of the master bedrooms have portraits of women…so we just figured a girl should take up these bedrooms. Understand?"
It sounded ridiculous altogether, but the men couldn't find a reason to argue with the girls. Seeing they had won, Rochelle and Zoey proceeded up the stairs.
"We're going to go settle down and relax," Rochelle said with a cheeky smile, disappearing into the left hallway.
"I want the master bedroom!" Ellis screamed out almost immediately.
"No fair!" Franics argued like a child. "I'm taking up that last room!"
"Shit," Nick cursed, realizing he hadn't been quick enough to claim one of the master rooms.
"Well then, you, Louis and I will take up the guest rooms on the first floor," Coach said to the conman with a small smile. "Let's go."
The men dispersed.
Rochelle approached the grand, carved door at the end of the left hallway. Twisting the golden knob, she entered the room she found most appealing. With a large smile, she sighed in relief at the beautiful room. Rochelle set down her axe and combat rifle, and pain pills and med-kit, before stretching contentedly.
She turned the air-conditioner on and glanced at the painting in the room. Indeed, it was a portrait of a woman.
The painting was beautiful. The young woman in the picture wasn't looking ahead—in fact, she seemed distracted, her big green eyes looking elsewhere. Straight, brown hair cascaded down her back and shoulders beautifully, her expression neutral, the edge of her full lips slightly tugging upwards. Her skin was fair. Rochelle was envious of her beauty.
'Seraphine Slate' was engraved on the small metal below the painting.
"This must be the woman in the saferoom," Rochelle said, sadness replacing her relief and content. She stared at the painting for awhile. Yes, she bore resemblance to the Survivor in the saferoom…
"Thank you…" She whispered, turning away to go out to the balcony for fresh air.
"I just realized there's a radio in here!" Louis exclaimed in surprise.
Ellis, Nick and Coach, who were in the dining room at the time, heard his shout from the kitchen and rushed to him. Louis was examining an old-fashioned radio, the one he remembered using at Mercy Hospital.
"I can radio the military…" Louis mumbled, looking up at the three men.
There was contemplation. Did they really want to call the military, now? They were an unreliable party…and they have failed the Survivors before. Should they really radio for help? They were in a nice place, with food which could last for a year at minimum. Electricity and water was there, and with added luxury, was it wise to leave?
Coach finally spoke up. "Nah, I'd rather wait the apocalypse out, Louis. No need ta signal the military."
"I agree," Nick nodded.
With a grin, Louis nodded in comprehension. He stood up and rolled up his sleeves, approaching the freezer. "So, what do you want to eat for tonight, guys?"
"Lemme help ya, Louis," Ellis offered with a smile. "I could cook real good, too."
Coach laughed and told them he would be okay with anything. He and Nick left the kitchen and walked down the hallway. They could hear Francis flirting with Rochelle on the stairs.
It was getting dark outside. The sun was setting into the sea, birds were flying back to their homes, wind blew steadily and rustled trees and bushes, the sky was gold and purple instead of blue…
Nick felt happier. He was in Paradise with his new family, and he wanted it to stay that way. No military, no CEDA, no rules, no zombies.
Just days of leisure and games, waiting the apocalypse to die away.