The survivors were relieved as they started to steer out of the wet clouds and head for the sunlight.
"How yus doin' back there?" Virgil called back, not wanting to refuel the boat's tank until they were as far away from the infected version as possible.
The group was sprawled out over the back of the deck, breathing heavily and attempting to wipe away the water they had gotten from their nature given shower.
"We're doin' fine back here." Ellis called back to him with a smile. By what lucky grace of god there was in a world that had truly been made a hell, the charger hadn't managed to rip his stitches. Mostly just rough him up a bit by pressing against them.
The hillbilly captain laughed happily at the response. "That's good. I was startin' to wonder if yus was ever gonna be making it back."
"Well getting you some diesel took us a good two mile hike out of the way and back." Coach huffed heavily, slicking back the water from his head.
"Yeah, not to mention all the crazy shit that happened between here and there." Nick scoffed, he gave the back of Virgil's head a cold stare, but beneath it he was just happy to be back on the stupid boat.
The captain looked back at them. "Well I'm greatly appreciative yu did go. Now I can drop yus off over by the water front. I know they were pickin' up survivors ov'r there."
"Why didn't you go?" Rochelle asked.
"Like I said earlier!" Virgil responded, slowing the boat to a halt and turning to face them. "I knew this was gonna happen, and I ain't getting off this here boat!"
No one argued with the man as they passed off their fuel canisters. He filled the tank to the brim with two, requesting Ellis to stick the other two under the deck. He then informed them they had a bit of a drive ahead of them, which no one complained to, being without the undead nightmare on the water, and encouraged them to relax and help themselves to whatever they wanted to have. They all thanked him gladly once more and Rochelle bent down into the deck to retrieve a goodie for everyone.
"Hey Ellis," She caught the country boy's attention as she opened up a bag of sour cream and onion chips. "does that tattoo mean anything?"
"Oh this here?" Ellis motioned to the tribal tattoo on his arm. "It means I'm a badass zombie-killin' machine." He said proudly, Nick smirking at the kid's response as the hick laid back to rest on his extended arm.
Rochelle rolled her eyes playfully. "Wow." She said. "You must have amazing foresight to get that."
Coach chuckled. "I don't know about that." He interjected. "I don't think El ever saw himself running into Nick like this." The conman snickered as the country boy hid his face beneath the brim of his hat. "So yall ready to explain to us what happened?"
Nick answered. "Well it just happened, really." He attempted to explain, not feeling like he needed to or anything, it was mostly to explain it all to himself. "I can't explain how. But it's not like we've been sneaking around and making out with each other every night or something." Ellis flinched and attempted to make a face at the man, but didn't bother to move his hat.
"Some things are crazy like that!" Virgil commented from his place at the wheel. "Yu don't ever know where it's gonna hit, but when it does, whoo boy! That's a dangerous thing." Nick, as well as the others who had been enjoying the conversation suddenly stopped, becoming almost redigged by seriousness.
"Uh, dangerous?" Ellis asked.
"Mhmm." The hillbilly captain responded. "In this mess yu never know what's gonna happen. My lady was on shore for two minutes before she got bit. That there was the end of it, my sweet pride and joy." He said this in a tone that surprised all but Nick, to which the man sounded completely calm in his explanation but on the last comment his voice wavered the slightest bit, like a poker player who's bluffing all in for a bad hand.
"What... did you do to her?" Rochelle struggled to ask.
"A whole lot of nuthing." Virgil continued. "Not really much I could do, so I just left her there and never went back. It's not like I could do anything to help her once that ugly bastard decided to take a bite out of her."
At that the boat became completely silent, except for the rum of the engine and the splashes the exterior made when it hit a small wave. The aura of the group had changed completely, it was now as if the shadow of death itself was lurking just above them, but no one dared to take a look up.
Nick's eyes slowly cast down from the hillbilly captain to country boy on his arm. Ellis' stare was blank, seemly expressionless, but his eyes held a look like he had finally been hit with reality, like suddenly the world of lethal infected was something all too new to him, like he held the fear that he knew one of them wouldn't make it out alive. Seeing him like this started to send a chill down his own spine, and he didn't like it.
"Ellis." He said, snapping the kid from his trance as he blinked a few times then turned to him.
"Yeah Nick?" His voice sounded solid as a rock, unlike the captain, and his usual gaze was back, though not nearly as bright. He made a mental note to teach the kid to play poker one day.
He grabbed the southerner by his chin and tilted his head up ever so slightly, making the perfect eye contact with him that Nick knew he wouldn't waver from. "Stop it." He laid a short light kiss on his lips and pulled back, wrapping his arm a little tighter around the country boy's shoulders.
Ellis wasn't expecting the sudden action, but it was almost as if Nick knew he needed it. Although the kiss was short, it was comforting. And his direct command to 'stop it.' would almost convince him to believe the gambler could read his mind, which wouldn't really surprise him, being a con artist and all. But it was the simple fact he didn't say 'try not to think about it.' or 'don't worry about it.' that held the deepest meaning to him.
Those phrases just made him want to think about the issue more. It had been a long time before Nick rolled around that he had ever heard a string of commands fall from anyone's mouth. Nick didn't tell him the issue didn't matter, he had just pushed it aside. It wasn't like they could do anything about it anyways.
Hell, they were almost home free! So what if Virgil had a sour spin of luck? They had literally walked from Savannah to here, battling off infected creatures big and small as if it were a walk in the park. If the good lord had intended anyone to die between them, then he wouldn't of let Ellis pull Nick right back to him.
With these as his thoughts a smile rolled onto Ellis' face as he sunk back into Nick's grasp, wrapping his own arm around the other man's lower back as he tilted his hat down slightly and closed his eyes.
When Ellis' head hit his shoulder, nestling closer in his sleep, Nick almost breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't know when he had started holding his breath, but he knew he had been worried about the loud mouthed hillbilly's problems haunting the country boy's thoughts. He smiled gratefully, seeming to have snapped him out of it when he felt an arm snake around his waist.
Normally, he wouldn't go any further. He'd still play off the simple uncaring face he had perfected over years of time, but right now Ellis seemed content with just having him there, so he wasn't about to spoil it for the kid. He blinked his eyes hazily, soon finding himself fading too, so he rested his cheek at the top of Ellis' beloved hat and closed his eyes, soon following him into quiet dreaming.
Coach and Rochelle sat quietly for a majority of the trip, not wanting to spoil the seemingly perfect Kodak moment the other two held between them. They didn't mind to either, really. So long as they were perfectly safe on the boat with no infected beneath Virgil's deck, who could complain?
The ride took what Nick estimated to be about an hour and a half, two hours tops, before it started slowing to a halt on the edge of a small store that read 'Jules Fresh Crawfish'.
"Well, here we are." Virgil turned to them, leaning on the wheel as he put the boat in park. "The New Orleens water front, as promised. All yus gotta do it make it that that yonder bridge over there as you should be out of here before day's out."
The team started to rise with hope as they readjusted themselves for what they could only pray to be the final trek. Nick had successfully introduced to the mysterious gun bag and dispersed it's weapons, starting off on a low note as they were all short on ammo. Being as they all still had their guns from the last town, they left the half loaded ones with Virgil, just in case anything were to sneak it's way onto deck.
As they stepped from the rocking boat to shore, the hillbilly captain smiled behind them. "It's been mighty nice meeting yus." He gave them a final wave as he started up the boat. "This is as far as I go, but you can make it to the bridge from here!" He drove away as three of the four called out their good byes, Nick eyes set on the horizon.
"Thanks, Virgil!" Ellis shouted to him. "You stay safe, brother."
"Good luck to yus! Y'all take care now." The hillbilly captain replied faintly, his boat becoming smaller as he sped away from the grateful survivors.
"All right people," Coach smiled heartily. "let's get to that bridge."
"You mean that blurry line on the horizon?" Nick asked, looking out the bridge looked like a longer shot than it had originally seen. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves here."
"Aw, come on Nick!" Ellis beamed at him. "We've come this far. We can't just give up now."
Nick looked to him and sighed, he had no argument. It was bridge or wait it out here until they died, and he was not even about to let that happen again.
"That Virgil is a goddamn hero, going back there when we are so close." The kid looked back to the small boat, fading into the horizon. "Let's get to that bridge...for Virgil."
The others nodded in agreement and readied their things, finding a few useful items on the shore line. They ran up the docks and to the edge of the town, bordered faulty by a chain length fence when they heard something above.
"Alright! The military's still here!" Coach shouted happily, noticing the black planes that sped over head.
Nick followed his gaze but looked apprehensively at the air crafts. "You don't evacuate people in fighter jets."
"But it means they haven't abandoned New Orleans." The black man argued, pushing forward past the fence. "Come on, let's move!"
They ran into the street and fired at the walkers, trying to find a path to follow. One end of the street was cut off by a wall, the other looked as if it would lead them into a longer course than they needed to take. By passing both of these, they ran through a taller spiked fence and onto what could be considered a main road.
It looked like a tornado, well in this case an apocalypse, had been through it. The street was littered with sideways parked cars and an overturned cargo truck that had happened to knock down one of the shop's onnings. The team took this as an opportunity to get a better look around, grateful that they had at the sight on the other side.
They thought they had seen it all, but it wasn't until they saw an infected running at them in SWAT gear and a riot shield that they realized you can never get too comfortable with these things around. Ellis was the first to take to the new challenge, hoping down and with a quick swing of his axe, cutting into the not-so-protected neck of the former law enforcer from the back, taking it's head clean off.
Nick followed down and picked up it's fallen nightstick, getting a feel for it in his hands. "I used to steal these from cops in high school." He smirked at the memory while the rest of the group seemed to roll their eyes and shake their heads.
The next few streets they made it through with moderate ease. The road ways all interconnected in some twisted confusing way that seemed unidentifiable. Ellis had mentioned going to New Orland's once with Keith, giving them false hope up until he explained that he had only gone once and it was several years in the past, far from his mind.
But besides following the confusing streets, Coach had been pounced by a jockey, running him straight into the side of a brick building, and Rochelle had unluckily been dragged into an alley way by a smoker just as a horde started to emerge. To her advantage she had gotten caught on the fence, not allowing herself to be dragged fully into the infected's tumorous claws, and when she was freed, pointed them to their first safe room.
They took a moment to catch their breath before turning and examining the room. It was a small store of some sort, the shelves completely sacked except for a few left behind items that would definitely come in handy, and a sheet on the floor that the survivors could visibly see what was used for. No one needed a second glance at the blood stained fabric to know of the unfortunate body that laid beneath.
"Man..." Coach said quietly, Ellis removed his had. The black man began mumbling a prayer as the others held a moment of silence.
Being careful around the body the group grabbed only what they needed and opened the next door, Ellis not replacing his cap until they were outside. The group resumed it's usual pace as they continued down the streets, noting the signs along the way.
"'Infected detected in this area'." Coach read one of the several notices posted on the various fence parts.
"Really?" Nick asked with fake disbelief. "I haven't seen any."
At this the others let out a small chuckle as Coach continued. "'Use of deadly force authorized.'. It sho' is, heh. 'Report the sick'."
"Report the sick?" Ellis asked.
"Don't worry, Ellis." Rochelle smiled. "They mean the flu, not in the head."
Nick snickered at the comment while the country boy gave her an unamused stare. They passed by a few more shops and restaurants, Ellis letting out small groan at the sight of a bar.
"Oh, I could go for a cold one right about now." He sighed, knowing whatever had been inside behind the bar has probably long been missed.
Nick looked to it as well, mentally disappointed. Even though his drinks were usually much drier, right now he wouldn't hesitate to pass over half the cash he had one him for a frosted bud light.
When they approached what could roughly be called the end of that section of the city, they came across a large half circle of steps, leading up to a hedged in park called 'Bienville'. The surrounding speaker sets told them their was either a meeting or performance of some sort, probably just when the infection hit.
As they headed up the steps and into the shrubbery, Nick became slightly pissed off. The maze, if you could call it that, wasn't nearly as difficult to reach the center of as their walk had been through the town but he was getting pretty damn tired of anything past a straight line.
"Man, I wish we had a horse right now." Ellis commented, looking up to the Andrew Jackson statue that marked the middle of the path. "I loooove horses." He smiled at the thought of riding one.
"Ever eaten a horse?" Nick asked, taking full advantage of available taunting the country boy had set himself up for. "Tasty."
Ellis turned to him with a look of disbelief, disgust, and something that said I-know-you're-just-saying-that-to-mess-with-me. "Horses are for ridin', not eatin' Nick."
They made it through the rest of the maze, passing a gazebo where an unlucky spitter just so happened to be placed and allowing Coach to force a bullet into her throat before she had the chance to toss them an unwanted goo ball. The streets led them into a very broken part of town, trucks over turned and bridges with hanging signs crumbled, but one detail that scattered the ground almost made the survivors stop in their tracks.
"Jesus..." Nick said as they looked to the corpses that surrounded him, none infected, but shot. "These are people! They were shooting people. Goddammit I told you I had a bad feeling about this!"
"Yeah? And how does bein' so right feel, Nick?" Coach asked, becoming annoyed with his rant.
The gambler paused for a moment. Sure he had seen people die before, but there had always been a reason. What reason could CEDA have behind this? "...Not good." He answered finally.
They fought off a few more SWAT members and ran inside what appeared to be an emergency medical unit and shut the door behind them just as a charger came slamming into the door. Ellis shot out the window and landed two blows from his shotgun directly into the infected's skull, causing him to fall in place and barricade the door shut.
The team then searched through the tight space in search of any type of equipment they could use, finding there to be a health kit and an adrenaline shot.
"Warning," Coach read, the rest of the group sighing. There's always something. "Alarm will sound if door is opened before clearance from tower." He glanced out the window. "And that damn thing is all the way over there!"
"I'm guessing there's no one up there to give us clearance either?" Rochelle asked, Coach shook his head.
Nick sighed again. "Alright. As soon as we open that door, get ready to run for the tower." He said with a cock of his gun and grabbing hold of the handle.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait..." Ellis stopped him. "Why we goin' to the tower?"
"We run to the tower, and we turn off the alarm!" Nick explained, his voice slightly shifting due to his aggravation.
The country boy nodded once. "Wait... we are going it together right?"
The conman turned to him mostly out of surprise. "Of course we're going together." He said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
At that Ellis smiled widely. "Then let's go."
Nick complied and opened the lofty door, the promised alarm wailing shortly after to alert all nearby infected that it was chow time. As they started running, something caught Ellis' attention.
"Hey ya'll why are we wastin' energy?" He asked, slinging his gun over his shoulder as he climbed up the chain length fence at an impressive rate before carefully swinging his legs over the barbed wire.
"Ellis!" Nick called to him, slowing the slightest bit.
"Keep runnin'!" The country boy called, dropping to the other side. "I'll turn off the alarm and-" He was cut off by a fit of abrupting laughter and a pair of shaky hands covering his eyes. "GAH! What the-"
"Jockey on Ellis!" Rochelle called, being the first to turn the corner and raise her guns as the jumper dragged the country boy further away.
Nick was next in line as they fired, the jockey pulling Ellis back behind the next fence as he screamed, drawing in more of the infected. "Aw, shit!" He tossed his machine gun over his shoulder and grabbed hold of the fence, climbing over it with ease and surprising the other two. For a moment the tail of his jacket caught, but as he jumped to the concrete below it was freed with not even a slight tear. He shoved past the infected that headed for Ellis and shot at the little pink beast from the side, knocking it off as the hick fell to the ground.
The gambler stood over him as Ellis attempted to pick himself up, firing at the infected running towards them. Rochelle and Coach caught up and passed them, still heading for the source of the alarm. The country boy soon got to his feet and they followed behind, the black woman already started a good way up the latter as the Coach stood guard at the bottom.
A moment later the alarmed stopped, but the infected kept coming. Eventually all reaching the top of the tower, they dropped again, crossing over the last bit of the open lot and through an open building to a line of buses. Spotting a promising red door at the end of the side walk the group began to sprint, not bothering to fire at the six or seven infected following them. First Rochelle, then Ellis, then Coach, and finally Nick, he swung the door shut just as the beasts began to reach out to them, shoving their arms through the barred window. The gambler simply responded by shooting a clean sweep from right to left and back, landing them back on the pavement.
"Take that you mealy mouth bastards!" He called, then slumped against the door, catching his breath.
"Man," Coach said heavily. "I gotta say, those were some moves out there Nick."
"Yeah," Rochelle nodded. "When did you learn to do that?"
Ellis looked to them curiously. "Do what?"
"He hopped the fence when the jockey got you." Coach explained.
"He did what?" The country boy turned to the gambler in shock. "Since when do you know how to climb over a barbed fence? Hell, how'd you even do it in a suit?"
Nick looked to them, contemplating for a moment before answering. "It's only happened a few times, but to put it shortly, police officers shouldn't work in casinos."
"You ran from the law?" Ellis asked, his jaw halfway dropped as the gambler started waiting to get an earful. "Dude, that's just like the time me and Keith had to run from the cops on account of his customers complaining of all the raccoons he was lettin' lose."
At this Nick looked up. Besides the bizarreness of his unfinished story, had he just explain that he not only didn't mind, but actually enjoyed the fact he had run away from cops? "You've out run police officers?" He asked.
"Well," The mischievous country boy chuckled and scratched his neck. "only a few times."
The conman smirked in and impressed way and Rochelle readied the next door. With a heavy swing the survivors headed out to an open lot, a distinct road leading above them to signal their next direction.
"Look," Coach pointed to it, pushing back and infected just before he shot it with his other hand. "That freeway's gotta hook up with our bridge."
"Good, then let's follow it." Rochelle answered as she shot.
In the lot there were only a few infected, but the sound of gun fire started to attract others from the streets as the group pushed forward. The roadway they needed was blocked by a crashed bus, causing them to ascend to the apartments above and do a quick sweep for items before they passed to the other side.
Then a waiting boomer, hidden carefully behind the corner of a building, emptied himself of his bile, splashing Nick, Coach, and Ellis. Rochelle shoved the blubberous zombie far enough back to take a safe shot and fired, spilling more of the foul substance all over the yard. A wave of infected soon followed, causing mild confusion as the men of the group attempted to rid themselves of the stench and avoid friendly fire.
Once the horde was disposed of the team continued to the end of the road then quickly through a rental building where the walls had been broken through, how of course was unknown. Back on the street the next few houses were nothing but frames and fire, hollow remains of what could've been homes. One they crossed through specifically held a detail that gave them chills.
"I hope those hash marks mean zombies." Coach commented, looking to a barricaded bedroom door lined with tali marks and beginning to count.
"Jesus, it was open season on everything out here." Nick growled as he reloaded.
"People shootin' people?" Ellis looked to the multitude of cartridges that laid around the room. "That shit ain't right man."
"Then let's get out of here and get to the bridge." Rochelle called to them, pushing back a few of the common infected.
They continued through more of the broken buildings, large gaping holes making an easier path for them to follow, but how they came to be everyone hoped they didn't find out. Again their road came to an end, but another entrance opened up.
"Nick! Good news!" Coach grinned to the conman. "We're going down into this sewer."
"I am not going in the se-" The white clad gambler looked to his suit in a huff and sighed angrily. "Ah screw it! Let's go."
One by one the group descended down the latter, Nick being the last in his reluctance. It was pitch black, the only light coming from the four lit flashlights, and the water reached just below their waist lines.
"I am breathing shit air into my lungs. It is being absorbed into my bloodstream." Nick exhaled heavily, trying to keep as much of his suit out of the water as he could during his rationalization. "I am literally full of shit." He let out an angered yell and raised his hand his head, massaging his temples between his thumb and fore finger. "You know what? Fine. Seriously. Look, I'll give any one of you thousand dollars to give me a piggyback ride."
Rochelle and Coach looked to him with a disbelieving chuckle and shook their heads. Ellis simply sighed and stopped in front of him. "Climb on." He offered.
"Really?" The gambler asked, a bit surprised someone would take his offer.
"Yes, really," The country boy looked to him over his shoulder. "Now come on I don't wanna have to stand in this mess any longer than you do."
Although he seriously doubted it, Nick took his word. How could he refuse that offer? It took him only a moment to wrap his arms around the country boy's neck and pick his feet out of the sludge. The extra weight caused Ellis to stumble for a moment, causing the germophobic gambler to cling to him harder than a jockey, followed by an increasing "Ellis. Ellis! ELLIS!"
"I got ya Nick, jus' calm down for a second!" The mechanic stopped him as he regained his footing and restarted his trek through the water. "See, you're fine up there."
"Anyone makes a comment about this and I'll shoot you." The conman threatened, looking more towards Coach and one hand holding tight to his magnum.
"Hey Nick," Rochelle got a cheeky idea and turned to him, smiling innocently. "Splash fight?"
"DON'T YOU DARE." He raised his gun as a sign of his seriousness as the others began to laugh. "That's funny." He said sarcastically. "Here's a pleasant thought: Anyone of us gets pounced, we're going to be fully submerged in this shit water."
"Well you better hope I don't get pounced then." Ellis grinned, causing Nick to cringe.
After confronting about five sewer covered zombies, it was learned that Nick's sensitivity and accuracy at the threat of anything that dirty running towards his not-so-clean white suit. When they spotted the yellow latter, the gambler was the first to reach out to it and start pulling himself up.
"Thanks Overalls."
"No problem." The country boy adjusted his said attire for a moment, checking his pockets with a relieved grin that was quickly cut off by the conman swearing.
They were standing in the middle of an open lot, surrounded by parked cars with who knows how many alarm systems, and a numerous amount of infected.
"All these alarm cars, it's like a puzzle!" Ellis said looking carefully around him.
"Everybody take it slow, now." Coach directed, shooting above the tops of the vehicles. "Move careful, watch your fire, and we'll be just fine."
"Easier said than done." Nick answered in a growl, swiping between a lincoln and a ford.
"I'll tell you what'd be real bad right now." The country boy said as he aimed through a window. "A tank."
The group turned to him. "Don't jinx us!" Rochelle snapped sharply.
As the infected surrounded them, it seemed more and more like they were trying to get the survivors to shoot the cars and call in the horde. They took a risk and crawled over the hood and backs of two of the older looking vehicles, Ellis slipped slightly as started to fall back just as Nick was able to grab him by the front his Bull Shifter's shirt.
It was then they heard a deafening screech, the sign of a locked on hunter, followed by the hooded infected sinking it's claws into the thick jacket of the gambler's suit, causing him to fall and slam the back of his head into a cherry red mustang, fully equipped with an alarm system.
Coach shoved the special infected off of the conman and gave him a hand up and more of the undead came sliding over hoods and trunks at a rate that seemed almost unfair. However they seemed to shift their weight, the zombies never triggered an alarm. Squeezing by another set of closely parked chevvies, Ellis was grabbed and pulled back. He turned to them and pushed them aside, firing his shot gun at close range and triggering another ear splitting sound.
"WELL, FINE, THEN, THERE, I'LL SHOOT A DAMN CAR!" The country boy shouted, continuing to fire at the reign of infected that followed.
Coach took hold of the barrel and forced the gun from his hands, leaving Ellis with only an axe. "WILL YOU CUT THAT SHIT OUT?"
He shook his head as the moved forward, catching up with Rochelle and Nick who had successfully managed to find a latter, leading them out of the noise below.
"There's the freeway!" Rochelle called, being the first up the latter and stairs.
Nick couldn't help the astonished smiled on his face at her call. "I can't believe we made it!"
"We did it, people! We're on the bridge! We're almost outta this place." Coach smiled.
"Ha ha! We're gettin' out of this shit and goin' home!" Ellis whooped, starting to run.
With their new found energy, they all began to sprint on the road, cheering victoriously. There celebrating was cut short by a quick, dark flash of something infront of them followed by a loud explosion, literally knocking them off their feet as the ground shook. In confusion, they all looked up to notice that the bridge, their way out, had been completely destroyed, bombed and in flames by the passing jets.
"Oh, COME ON!" Nick shouted, followed by a string of heavy curses as he stood, beating the dirt off his suit.
"I can't believe they jus' bombed us..." Ellis commented, taking off his hat for a moment to scratch his head and run a hand through his sweat matted hair.
"All right... shit..." Coach placed a hand to his head and sighed. "Nobody panic. We gonna head down and find another way up onto the bridge."
"You sure we shouldn't just panic?" Nick asked, visibly pissed off. "I mean, I think panic was invented for just this sort of situation."
Coach didn't bother to humor him. "Get your ass moving Nick."
He passed off the shotgun back off to Ellis and one by one the group continued forward, the freeway ahead was broken into a slope, guiding them to what was found to be an eerie sight.
"I guess we're gonna have to visit that graveyard." The country boy shivered. "Man, if these were real zombies, going into this graveyard would be like death. I hope we don't see no ghosts."
The gambler looked to him quizzically. "Ellis, you're carrying like ten different guns."
"You can't shoot a ghost, Nick." The hick gave him the same look, only a bit more presumptuously. "I mean shit, it ain't rocket science, man."
The graveyard was filled with more mausoleums than graves, infected weaving in and out from around each corner. Ellis started a story of Keith living in a graveyard once, but on a note that they needed to get out and get to the bridge before they were all nothing but ashes, he promptly quieted down. A spitter had appeared only for a second, dropping a glob at the back of Coach's pants before fleeing behind a tomb, and a charger grabbed Rochelle, ramming her luckily into the trunk of a tree rather than one of the cement walls. The amount of overall infected was surprisingly low, probably due to the bombing, and soon the survivors were able to take shelter of a safe house. As the closed the door, another thunderous strike was heard, followed by an explosion.
"Christ, those guys are such assholes." Nick commented, checking the amount of ammunition he had left.
"Yeah," Rochelle sighed, swallowing some pills before passing off the bottle to Coach. "Something tells me they're not checking for survivors anymore."
Coach took the medicine and looked out the window. "Man, they're lighting up this whole place. We gotta get to the bridge."
"Looks like our milk run just became a marathon." Nick added sarcastically, the bitterness of his words slowly fading into frustration.
"Best we get to it then." Ellis reloaded and pumped his gun, opening the next door.
The room led them to a back alley way and into a dark building. They clicked on their flashlights and headed up the stairs, an eerie laughter guiding them up the stairs.
"There!" Rochelle turned, her light flicking over a sickening grin for a single second before the jockey pounced square on her shoulders. Ellis took a sudden swing of his axe, lodging the blade into the base of the jumper's neck, causing him to fall.
Rochelle gave him a quick thanks and they continued out onto the balcony, jumping down onto the hood of a van before entering what appeared to be a pub. The lingering scent of overly smoked, low cost cigarettes hung in the air, causing Nick's tongue to twitch at the desire of having a long drag, even if it was cheap.
Again there was a shock and the building rumbled, some of the tiling roof above crumbling onto the group as they headed up the set of stairs and passed the pool tables, once again heading into the allies. Being cut off by a wall, they headed into the another building. The flights of steps led them to believe it to be somewhat of an inexpensive apartment complex, complete with gaping holes in the walls that led them to the rooftop of a shed and the promising sign of a safe house across the way.
"We need a way across." Coach hollered out, looking around for a plan he found one in the shape of a masquerade mask. "Ellis, my man, go start up that parade float."
"You got it Coach!" The country boy smiled, hopping down off the make shift platform as the others covered him.
"As soon as your done down there, get you ass back up here." Nick demanded. He'd seen parades before, and knowing a float that size, a horde would soon follow behind.
The country boy nodded from the switch and yanked a lever down, releasing the breaks, and mashed the green start button. Typical jazzy carnival music flooded the streets as the hick ran on the tips of his work boots back up to the rest of the group.
"Get ready!" He warned when he reached the top, pulling his shotgun from his shoulder.
The infected wave soon began to pour in from the allies and apartments, each running for a chance to take a bite out of the surviving few. Coach tossed out a gas can that randomly laid a top of their shaft and tossed it into the middle of the horde. You can always find the weirdest stuff in an apocalypse. He then called to Rochelle to throw her bile bomb in the same direction, leading a majority of the infected to the red container as he pulled the trigger. In a single moment all the nearby infected were in flames in a large scattering mess, continuing their staggered run before they fell to the ground with a blackened thump.
The float seemed to be one of the slowest moving parade attractions to come out of New Orlands, but considering Ellis didn't have the time nor thought to check the speed they made due, jumping across as soon as the plank was close enough.
They continued to have a fair run, a smoker had temporarily grabbed Coach before the edgy man turned to him, turning it into a cloud of smog before he could fully constrict his arms, and the spitter returned to lodge another blob of burning goo between them all before Nick had put a hole right between her eyes. They ran through two or three more buildings before they found the base of the bridge and a safe house connected to it.
"We're here y'all." Coach smiled briefly as he closed the door. The room had a good stock of much needed ammo and a latter that connected them to a room above, Ellis willingly was the first to scope it out.
"Woo, boy! We got guns and weapons of all kinds up here!" The country boy called enthusiastically, sliding back down the latter in a firemenly fashion.
The group healed up quickly as started to gather supplies for what they prayed to be their last trek through hell, one object in particular Ellis couldn't ignore.
"Hey what kinda gun is this?" He asked, picking up a weapon with an extremely over sized barrel and aiming it at the wall for a test fire.
Nick looked up unconcernedly until the gun in the hick's hands caused him to reach out. "Whoa whoa whoa! Don't shoot that!" He grabbed the object from him just before he pulled the trigger, sighing in relief.
"What is it?" The country boy repeated.
"It's a grenade launcher." The gambler explained as he picked up the accessory and began counting the number of grenades that were attached to the belt. "If you would've shot this in here you would've blown us all up."
"Aw shit, really?" Ellis grinned. "That's so cool! Man Imma be blowin' them zombies sky high." He laughed at the thought.
Nick simply watched him for a moment, a very different out come coming to mind as the county boy swiped for the weapon. The gambler pulled it just out of his reach and opened his mouth, his tongue flicking over his upper lip as he thought of a good way to explain it to him. "No." He he said simply, throwing the device over his left shoulder and the belt around the other, leaving only two magnum pistols in hand as Ellis protested.
"Thank Jesus." Coach mumbled. "For a second there I thought you were gonna give it to him."
"Hey, I could shoot that thing!" The country boy defended himself.
"Doesn't matter if you can shoot it." Nick said. "It matters what you hit with it."
Ellis pouted and grumbled to himself, Rochelle and Coach shaking their heads as they started for the door, but something caught Nick's attention as he began to realize their plan had a few holes in it.
"Are you guys sure this is a good idea?" The conman asked, the others looking to him in confusion. "I mean before we run across this bridge right toward the people who've been dropping bombs on us, anyone wanna talk about a Plan B?"
"I don't." Ellis admitted.
"Nope." Coach responded half caringly.
"Alright then." Nick shrugged, half giving up half indifferent. "But you're the first three people in the world I have ever trusted, so personally I'm not as eager to go running into the arms of CEDA."
"Well maybe it's not CEDA." Ellis tried hopefully.
"Yeah, it's the military." Coach said. "We just gonna stroll across that bridge, and the army's gonna take care of us."
"Or," The gambler emphasized "They're gonna line us up against the wall, and shoot us."
"Well, you're free to make yourself a new life right here in this room, Nick." The black man recoiled, giving him an irked look.
Nick took a deep breath and sighed. "Okay. Alright, let's go."
"Hold up a sec." Ellis stopped him from opening the door as he dug through his pockets, the gambler not really in the mood to be stopped. "I think ya deserve one of these before we head out again."
The conman looked from the lopsided grin the kid was giving him to his outstretched hand, marveled by the sight. In his palm laid a cheap beat up box of cigarettes and a red plastic lighter.
"Where... did you get this...?" He asked at a lost for words.
"Well remember when Virgil asked me to put the other cans of diesel below the deck?" The country boy responded. "Well I noticed 'em down there and jus' grabbed the one on top."
Rochelle gasped. "You stole from the man who saved our lives twice?"
"Hey now I didn't steal 'em." Ellis defended himself. "He said we could have whatever we wanted and well, shit, he had like nine cartons down there!"
"He had nine cartons?" Nick asked, the country boy nodded. "Selfish bastard."
"Anyway I figured he wouldn't mind and I had remembered ya sayin' you've been wantin' some for a while, so, here." Ellis dropped the items into Nick's hands.
The gambler turned over the box and flipped open the lid, six seldom cigarettes laid completely unharmed. He pulled out one from the middle and rolled it over his fingers, taking it between his index finger and thumb before putting it to his mouth and flicking the convenient store lighter. As soon as the tip began to burn he took a long drag, holding the cancerous smoke in his lungs for a few good beats, then exhaled a smoke ring that circled around Ellis' face as he grinned.
"Hey, come on man!" The non-smoking country boy coughed. "Don't blow it all over me." With that there was a quick pull on his neck and in a second his face was a moment from Nick's face. "H-hey! What are y-" He was cut off by the gambler's lips once again latching to his own, causing heat to rise into his cheeks.
Nick was fully aware of what he was doing and didn't really give a shit who was watching, so he continued to hold his stance against the hick for a few more moments before pulling away with an indubitable "Thank you."
Ellis nodded with a smile and turned to the other two, who were averting their eyes in such a way that made it seem like the ground was the most interesting thing in the world.
"Are you guys ready?" Nick asked, the others nodding.
"He Coach, got any words of inspiration for us?" Ellis asked
"Though I walk through the valley of death, I shall fear no evil." The black man responded.
"Okay I was really hopin' you weren't gonna go all fire and brim stone on me."
The group exited the safe room, a low buzz echoing a conversation nearby.
"That sounds like a radio!" Rochelle called out.
"Over there!" Coach responded, finding a military grade radio laying in the lap of a dead soldier. He did a quick silent prayer before snatching it up and pressing into the button. "Hello Hello!" He half shouted.
A second later there was a buzz followed by "Rescue 7, that's coming from the bridge! Bridge, identify yourself."
"Hey! There's four of us on the bridge!" Coach answered.
"Bridge, are you immune?"
"We are not infected."
There was a short pause before the radio buzzed again. "Negative Bridge. Are you immune? Have you encountered the infected?"
"Encountered?!" Coach huffed. "Boy, I am covered in zombie blood and puke and eyeballs and twenty other parts I don't even recognize. We are immune as SHIT."
"Rescue Seven, are you equipped for carriers?"
There was another wave of static before another voice responded "Affirmative, Papa Gator."
"Bridge," The original voice returned to them. "we have pulled out of that sector. Your only remaining pickup is available on the other end of the bridge. Our last chopper is leaving in ten minutes. You need to lower the span and get across the bridge. God be with you."
"Alright you heard the man!" Nick called out, dropping his cigarette and not bothering to ask if anyone else was ready before pulling the final lever. "Let's get across this bridge an out of this shit hole."
"Woo boy this is gonna be it!" Ellis grinned wildly cocking his shotgun.
Slowly the large concrete structure began to lower, clicking with a deep metallic thump when it reached them and a connecting ramp allowed them access to the other side.
"Alright let's go!" Rochelle called, running up with the others on her heels.
In a single moment the group was pressing forward, moving over the bridge on the roof tops and hoods of cars, van, and trucks of all kinds. The thought of alarm systems cross all their minds, but the fact they were literally on a one way street with a set amount of infected they'd have to fight through anyway made them push the thought aside and use whatever leverage they could get.
The country boy was going more the most cinematic dramatic show he could preform with his newly loved toy, sliding way too easily over the top of a tilted van and taking a shot at a spitter who had barely been able to fire at him before the buck shot collided with her jaw.
"Nice one, Ace!" Nick called to him over his gunfire, bullet after bullet going through the on coming infected as he climbed on to the back of a wobbling tanker truck. He moved for a moment, trying to gain his footing. "Hey do me a favor and nobody shot this thing." He warned the others, not wanting to become as much as a disaster area as the rest of the bridge.
The area was incredibly hazardous, even without the infected. Clearly the jets from earlier had dropped a bomb of some sort onto the bridge, parts of it were cracked or gaping open, causing the survivors to carefully watch every step they took onto the shifty concrete.
Coach then had a bad run in with a boomer, being as it stepped from the back of an open container truck and made him the prime target for it's vomiting pleasures. The Coach simply swore and and shoved the over weight infected back before scattering it's smelly guts all over the railing.
"Come on boys up here!" Rochelle called as she ran up a sloping slab of the bridge, the near vertical ramp not appearing to cause her any hindrance, but the black man though...
"You coming Coach?" Nick called to him in joking as he passed.
"I walked through hell to get here Nick," He breathed heavily as he picked up his pace. "I am not gonna get stopped now."
"That's the spirit!" Ellis laughed and gave him a pat on the back as he passed him as well.
Just when he reached the top he turned to the sound of Rochelle's scream. The woman was being dragged away at the waist by a smoker, perched behind the railing of the bridge.
"Ro!" He called out to her, firing at the tongue of the rotten infected as Nick waited for the chance to shot it during it's retreat. Soon the rancid muscle went limp and the tumorous infected was in his sights, and with a single shot became a cloud of smoke. "Come on come on, we gotta go!" Ellis unraveled the grimy tongue from her legs and pulled her up, Coach now close behind as they continued forward.
"Hey Overalls!" Nick called as he ran, getting the country boy's attention. "Did Keith ever do anything like this?"
Ellis laughed. "Na, I can't say I ever seen he has. Though there was this one time-" He was cut off by a navy Porsche landing and skidding between the two of them, causing them to jump back and look ahead.
Each gave off a variation of 'Shit!' at the sight of where the luxury car had came. A tank dropped from the back of a truck and slammed by the cars in his overly beefy way, having no regard for the other infected getting squashed beneath.
"SHOOT THE DAMN TANK!" Nick yelled, taking a few steps back to get behind a dodge and pull the country boy with him.
The rest of the group complied at the massive infected continued to charge, he was fast approaching their little make shift barrier before Ellis came up with a plan. He shoved the gambler quickly and took hold of the launcher on his back. He stood above the car and took a half second aim at the beast just as Nick was able to process what he had done and began to stand with objection. Before he could however country boy pulled the trigger, hitting the tank in the right shoulder as he swung wildly with his left, knocking both the dodge and Nick off the edge of the bridge as it fell into a muscled heap.
"Nick!" Ellis called, running over to the edge to see the blue car go spiraling into the water with a lofty splash. "NICK!" He yelled again.
"I'm here Sport!"
The hick turned to the conman dangling off the side by a single hand a few feet over. "Nick!" He half smiled and sighed as bolted over to his side and keeled on the pavement. "Come on, let me getcha up!" He grabbed hold of the steel supporters with one hand and latched onto the gambler's hand with the other. "You're gonna be alright."
"I know!" Nick said, groaning at the weight on his arm as he tried to get a grip with the other.
Just then a spitter with the worst possible timing selected them for her targets, sending a hot glob of green goo to splash and spread all over the cement where Ellis was kneeling. The country boy hissed and cursed as he attempted to hold onto the gambler and keep a hand on the bridge.
"Kid, get out of that shit!" Nick called to him helplessly.
Ellis didn't budge. "No!"
"It's ACID Overalls, it's going to KILL you! Get out of here!" He swatted his free hand at the country as his other slid down just a hair.
"I ain't leavin' ya!" He argued again, the pain sinking deeply into his knees as the front of his jeans and skin of his legs began to erode.
"Goddamnit Ellis! You're gonna get us both killed!"
"Then that's what'll happen then, 'cause I'm not gonna just leave you here!" The country boy argued with determination. "Ya can't hardly hold on! And I ain't lettin' ya go down til I go down!" He tensed his grip through the sharp string that rose up his legs as he looked down at the gambler who was literally speechless. He knew Ellis would never leave him, all he could do was hope the acid disintegrated quickly.
Ellis groaned as the last bit of the goo melted into the ground then used all his strength to help get the conman to safety. Nick struggled for a moment, thrashing the air until he was able to get a grip on the jagged ground and pull himself up. The moment he was on his knees he pulled the country boy to himself tightly.
He was no good at moments like this, not that he had any prior experience to this, and he was still at a loss for anything to say. So he simply opted with flicking his grey green eyes over those tired blue ones and saying a low "I owe you one." with a genuine meaning to it. The country boy smiled in acknowledgement at the meaning and attempted to pick himself up. The gambler helped him and tossed an arm over his shoulder, his knees didn't look too bad, but they were bleeding heavily and needed gauzing soon, the second they got in the chopper.
They hobbled forward, Coach and Rochelle guiding the way as they reached the end of the bridge. They dropped harshly onto the back of some sort of military vehicle and ran for the started and spinning helicopter. There was a chorus of determined 'come on's as they reached the finish line, passing a chain length fence and approaching the aerial machine to climb in, only to learn they were closed.
"All in!" A muffled voice called. The group turned to a pair of what were probably soldiers, dressed head to toe in a black body suit and helmets, as they closed the fencing off, preventing any of the infected from joining them on the other side.
"Show us your marks!" One of them called.
"Marks?" Coach questioned them. "Man, just let us in the chopper!"
The group went to take a step forward when the two soldiers simultaneously pulled out a pair of M60's.
"Halt!" He called. "You have informed us that you are immune to the infection. Show us your bite marks!"
"Bite marks?" Ellis jolted at them. "Man, we haven't got bit! We walked all the way here from Savannah if we were infected we should've known by now!"
"Negative." The soldier stopped him. "We cannot allow you further clearance without proof that you are without infection."
Nick watched them both carefully, their fingers edging the triggers. Without a second thought he pulled the grenade launcher from Ellis' back with a quick move, then aimed it back at the targeting men.
"Halt!" The soldiers flinched at the action and focused their sights on the gambler. "Drop the weapon!"
"You first." Nick demanded, not wavering from his position.
"Sir, if you continue with the use of that weapon we are allowed to use direct neutralization.
"Do you really think you two bastards are going to stand in my way of getting out of this hell?" The gambler snickered, a dark grin lining his features as his eyes sparked with serious intensity. "I've walked through hell to get here, so don't think for a second that I won't pull the trigger to blow up you and the chopper. I have not come this far to die now, so if you think you're going to stop me, I'll walk right back out those gates singing 'We are the Champions'!"
The soldiers looked through each other momentarily then back to the group.
"Where are you from?"
"He already said it, the evac station in Savannah, shit head." Nick motioned to the injured Ellis as he continued to bleed. "Ro, patch him up." He said, his sights still locked on the men in black. The woman complied, pulling off her health kit as she crouched and the country boy sat back on the ground.
"One moment." The soldier paused, locking his mic in such a way to mute his words from the outside as he connected with a higher authority. "Come in Infected Leader 226, do you read?"
There was static followed by "I read you, Papa Gator, continue."
"We're on the South side of 67th bridge. We've got four survivors who claim to have not been bitten. I repeat, they claim to have not been bitten. Do we have authorization to use lethal force?"
There was a moment of silence. "I repeat, do we have authorization to use lethal force?" The soldier reiterated.
"Rogers, do they appear to be infected?" Infected Leaded asked.
"They are covered in blood, sir." The second soldier responded.
"But do they appear infected?"
"I don't think so sir." Rogers responded. "It seems impossible for them to have walked here from the evac station in Savannah and go unbitten. I'd say either they're immune or these guys deserve some type of metal."
"Kill it Rogers." The other soldier snapped at him. "Infected Leader, there is no proof these people are not carrying the infection and each of them is harboring a weapon, one is aiming at us as we speak. I advise termination."
Again the line went silent, the soldiers waited as the survivors pondered their conversation.
"Negative." The authoritative figure said finally. "You do not have authorization to use lethal force. Talk down the armed individual and offer them area 36 as well as the needed supplies. If they made it this far, I say these survivors are goddamn heroes."
"Yes sir." The two soldiers responded, clicking off their mute.
"Alright." The first soldier said to them, both retreating their guns. "We have been authorized to offer you shelter and set up at area 36."
"What's area 36?" Rochelle asked.
"It's a permanent safe house north of here." Rogers answered. "You will reside there until the first city is cleared and rebuilt for normal living conditions as well as being given needed supplies for said stay."
"They make it sound like we're going to a hotel." Nick rolled his eyes, the launcher not leaving his hand. "How long are we supposed to wait it out there?"
"Four months." The first soldier responded. "By then we will have sacked and rebuilt the area of Savannah and start moving outwards."
"Four months?" Coach asked. "You mean to tell us we're going to be doing this shit for another four months?"
"No, the safe house is surrounded by an electric fence eight feet high and is completely unpenetrable from the outside. No infected can get in."
Nick lowered the grenade launcher slightly. "What kind of supplies are you talking about?"
"Four months worth of MREs, two tankers of water, a change of clothes, toiletries, ammunition, health kits, a few other item sand writing material."
"Great so we can doodle. Fantastic." The gambler rolled his eyes sarcastically.
"Well what happens in four months?" Ellis asked.
"You'll all be transported to the city and given residential there." The first soldier answered.
"Yeah, probably with maximum benefits too." Rogers added. "The general of the Army called you guys heroes."
"Better damn well believe it." Coach commented.
"Do you accept?" The soldiers asked.
The survivors looked to each other for a moment, as if they needed to question the answer, and all turned to the soldiers.
"YES." They answered simultaneously.
"Good. Rogers, lower the door." The soldier did as he was told, sprinting to the other side of the chopper to lower the steel door and allow the survivors to enter as the first soldier followed behind. "Hold tight. We'll open again inside the safe house territory then set up your supplies." With that the door closed.
Inside the four survivors breathed a sigh of relief. They had actually made it.
"Well we did it." Nick said, a small content smile present on his face as he reclined back. "We're home free."
They all sat on various parts of the small cargo hold at the chopper took flight, it was silent until a small hum started throughout the hold. It came from Ellis, his head tilled back and eyes closed as he smiled, an apparent melody starting to shine through the notes in the back of his throat. Coach then joined in with a whistling, then Rochelle with a chorus of light 'dum's until they reached the peak of the song.
Under the country boy's breath first came the starting lyrics.
"We, are the champions, my friends." It was slightly out of tune, but not unpleasant as Nick closed his eyes and listened.
"And we'll, keep on fighting, til the end." Rochelle continued, hitting the highest note effortlessly as the trio moved into the next bit of lyrics and becoming a bit louder.
"We are the champions,
We are the champions,
No time for losers,
cause we are the champions..."
Nick was a bit surprised to hear them all stop suddenly, and turned to see why. Each of them were smiling expectantly at him, a sign for what he knew they were wanting.
"I'm not singing." He said firmly, turning away.
"Come on Nick." Ellis urged him. "Ya said ya would, time to pay up."
The gambler smirked and pushed down the brim of the kid's hat. "It was a hyperbole sport."
"Hyp'er-bowly?" He asked.
"It means I wasn't serious." Nick grinned at the way the country boy struggled with the unusual vocabulary.
Ellis pouted. "Aw, no fun Nick." He gave the conman the best kicked puppy look he could put on, but the conman held stiff, though he did waver slightly in his thoughts. Eventually the country boy shrugged and gave up, as did the others.
The ride in the chopper didn't take long, maybe twenty minutes at max. The survivors could have made it on their own had they known about it, but with guaranteed food, water, and shelter for at least the next four months no one was willing to complain.
The soldiers opened the door to a modest house, the fence surrounding not lacking in height or power as they started it up. It had a locking door space on one side, in case any of them got cabin fever, which everyone doubted to happen. The home inside was surprisingly... livable. It had a large den room complete with a fire place, a small kitchen connected to it, and a long hallway leading to the bathroom and four bedrooms.
"Here," One of the soldiers gave each of them a set of clothing, black t shirt and matching pants. Not exactly the classiest thing Nick had seen in his life, but at least it was clean. "We'll make preparations tonight and return tomorrow with your supplies." With that they resigned, leaving the four tired survivors to change and fall asleep in their bedroom of choosing, in which Nick simply followed Ellis and fell without permission onto the covers.
"Ya know ya can have you're own room now." The country boy told him, pulling off his dirty yellow shirt and sliding on the black one.
"So what?" Nick shrugged, standing and removing his jacket as he stepped towards the hick. "Do you really want me to leave?" He asked with a lingering pretension in his tone.
Ellis returned it to him with a softened smile. "I guess not." He brought his lips gently to the gambler's, giving them a quick peck before turning away and retreating to the hallway and into the bathroom to finish changing.
Nick followed the same routine where he was, though being careful to neatly fold his dingy white suit in hopes to cleaning it later. The shirt was cheap to say the least, common cotton stuff. But it was damn comfortable and wasn't covered in zombie guts, so it would due for that night.
Ellis returned a few moments later, straightening his hat and smiling as he climbed into bed, the gambler not a beat behind. The second the country boy hit the pillow he could barely keep his eyes open, but a distinct low ring grabbed his immediate attention.
"Are you singin'?" He asked, turning to Nick.
"No," The conman denied. "I'm humming." Again the low ring started once more, the same song as earlier only an octave lower, making a quiet melody that caused Ellis to start to doze.
"Well keep doin' it." He smiled as he closed his eyes. "It sounds nice."
Nick smirked and followed his requested, humming through the entirety of the song, up until the last few words. In just a whisper, directly above the country boy's sleepy ear he sang.
"Of the world."
