Jerry winced as Jack threw up again, rubbing his back as he shivered and groaned in disgust. Jack was getting worse and worse, the color draining from his skin with practically each breath. He hoped Rudy stopped arguing with whoever he had been on the phone to for the past ten minutes, and hurried up and got the plane tickets.
Rudy's office door burst open and he strode out. "Well I don't care if the flight's reserved for a fleabag!" he yelled down the phone, not giving the other person a chance to respond in a garble before he sighed. "You'll put us on the flight, minus the rat, or I'll tell her about your toy car collection," he threatened, everyone exchanging bewildered looks and Jerry had a feeling it wasn't a real airline company he was talking to.
"Good day," he said sternly, frowning at the other person's response. "I said good day!" he repeated shrilly, hanging the phone up without another word.
Everyone groaned at the sound of Jack's vomit slopping around in the bucket as some more was unwillingly added; Jerry grimaced and turned to Rudy. "What was all that about?" he asked.
"My uncle's rented out his private jet for my step-mum's toy poodle because it's going all the way to Maine for a tummy tuck," Rudy said distastefully, Jack shuddering again, but thankfully it was a false alarm. "But either way, we've got tickets and our flight's leaving in two hours," he smiled and Jerry smiled back. Whether they had a toy poodle tag-a-long, they had means of getting to Texas.
"I'll see if my Grandpa can pick us up from his end," Jack said weakly, his voice rough from his near continuous bout of throwing up.
"Try not to throw up down the phone," Jerry teased him lightly.
Jack turned to him, forcing a brief smile. "Funny..." he said wryly, coughing to clear his throat. "Rudy, d'you think you could-?" he asked, tapping his hands against the bucket to show he couldn't really go anywhere for now.
"Sure," Rudy smiled at him. "What's his number?" he asked, holding up his phone.
"555-0153," he told him and Rudy quickly put the numbers in, being interrupted by his phone ringing. It seemed like so long ago that it would accidentally go off in a movie and Joan would come by to lecture him but would end up getting caught up in the movie herself.
"Ugh, gimme a minute," he groaned, rolling his eyes and glaring at the caller I.D with venom before walking back to his office. "What, Flynn?!" he demanded through gritted teeth. "No we cannot have Mr. Fufferman riding with us!" he said incredulously, the office door closing behind him and everyone turned to Jack who, for the moment, had stopped throwing up.
"So what's Texas like, Jack?" Kim asked intently, everyone - minus Jerry who was already tangled in their mass of limbs - turning around to look at him.
"It was pretty cool before the explosion and the Zombie's came," he fondly, smiling warmly at the mention of his old home. "Now I don't think there's many people left," he shrugged. "Even think the Sheriff packed up 'n went," he said with an air of disgust, rolling his eyes and Jerry felt sick; at least the Prime Minister hadn't left America to suffer and was actually trying to do something.
"Well we won't run into trouble that way," Kim pointed out and Jerry nodded in agreement. "You know what Jerry gets like when he's around something remotely cool," she added and Jerry grinned; he was a real-life Dora the Explorer - Spanish and annoying at times - and proud of it.
"Kim, the less people probably means more Zombie's," Jack told her and she bit her lip in realisation. "It's definitely worse than Seaford," he said in dismay. Jerry couldn't think of anything worse than going back to Spain and seeing it overrun with Zombies, which is precisely why he hadn't and his family there had been flown over.
"We have to try something though," Jerry put in. "At least try and cure you," he said firmly. He was crossing his fingers and everything else possible that there wouldn't be a 'try' about it, that he would be safe and Jerry wouldn't lose his best friend.
Jerry was met with cynical brown eyes he really didn't like. "If you can't, promise me," he began, breaking off to take a deep breath and lick his lips. "Promise me, that when it happens, you'll shoot me," he got out eventually.
"What?!" the three of them yelled in unison. Jack was crazy, it was the only way he would have even thought about asking that. Jerry must have misheard him; there was no way he had just asked them to commit murder. Especially not his.
"Jack are you insane?!" Jerry asked, trying not to yell at him, but he found his voice rising. "We're not gonna shoot you!" He didn't know how everyone else felt about the matter - be damned what Jack thought about it - but he would rather shoot himself.
"You have to!" Jack argued back desperately. hanging on to what little he had left, which was unfortunately a last resort. "I don't wanna risk hurting any of you and turning us into the Wazombie Warriors!" he said in exasperation and Jerry shuddered at that thought, but a small part of him thought that it would be a constellation they would still be together. "Promise me," he asked in a small voice.
"Jack-" Jerry tried, but he was cut off by Jack grabbing the front of his shirt.
"Promise me," he pleaded weakly, no fight left in him to argue further.
"We promise," they nodded solemnly, Jerry sneakily crossing his fingers behind his back, noticing that he was the only one that did, as Milton and Kim's hands were still visible in their laps. He couldn't kill his friend, not even if he would try to kill him if this all went bad.
The door clicked open and Rudy walked out, Jerry grateful he hadn't just heard Jack making them promise to shoot him if this didn't go his way, but he couldn't have wondered what he would have done. Would he have begrudgingly promised like Kim and Milton? or would he have pretended to promise like he had?
"Alright, Jack," he said with a smile. "Your Grandpa's agreed to pick us up."
"We should get going then," Jack said, pushing himself up from the floor, steadying himself so he didn't fall over. "Long ride to the airport," he added and everyone else stood up, heading for the door.
"Has anyone heard from Eddie?" Rudy asked and Jerry felt a rush of anger hit him; Eddie had left them, left his friend, when he needed them all the most, all because he was too afraid to stand up to his Mum and if it sounded harsh, then so be it, but they were better off without him anyway. All he had done from day one was drag the Dojo down, it was only now that Jerry was realising it. In the middle of the freaking apocalypse.
"No," Kim said, shaking her head. "Not for a while." She cast a worried glance at the courtyard and Rudy frowned briefly.
"Well, we can't wait for him," he said quickly, as Jerry felt Jack lean against him for support, Rudy looking over at the pair of them. "Let's go," he said, ushering them out the door, bolting it behind him - as best he could with the lock still loose - and heading for the car.
They hurried inside, or in Jack's case, heaved himself along the floor with Jerry's help, and Rudy started the car, roaring out of the parking lot.
What Jerry couldn't understand though, was why a few miles up the road, Rudy had taken one look at Jack and slowed down to a pace a legless Zombie could rival. "Can't we go any faster?" he complained, feeling Jack's head slump on his shoulder, the pace making him tired. "It's like a Zombie Mobile," he joked lightly, Kim turning around from the front seat to glare at him.
"Sorry," he apologised, slowly turning down a corner, the low hum of the engine thankfully not disturbing a pair of Zombie's on the footpath trying to claw their way up a tree in pursuit of a squirrel. "I don't want Jack throwing up everywhere," he explained, Jack shifting guiltily beside Jerry. He just hoped he had stopped for the time being and could at least wait until they were outside.
"At least put the radio on," Kim wheedled.
"News is too depressing these days," Rudy said lowly, Jerry and Jack nodding in silent agreement. All it seemed to be now was when someone famous had been bitten or killed, or an update on what was being done to help stranded families. The music charts seemed to have faded into oblivion and happy reports were seldom.
"Let's sing!" Milton piped up cheerfully, everyone groaning in annoyance, He meant well, but now was not the time. "Here's one we all know!" he said, gesturing for everyone to join in as he got his phone out.
"Milton..." Jack warned him in a low growl, but he carried on and turned the song on, making Jack bury his head into Jerry's shoulder, sighing.
"Don't, don't you, you, get all tough with me. I'm sayin', won't, won't, you, you, come kick it with me," he sang, Jerry feeling Jack's fingers clenching in his shirt in irritation. "And we can have a ball and run up the wall; hey! That's just how we do, come on! And no matter how much I chop and punch, it's not as cool as-" He was cut off abruptly as Jack's hand shot out, grabbing his phone and smashing it against the window, thankfully, ending Milton's singing.
"Hey!" he cried indignantly as Jack shoved the broken phone pieces into his hands. "What did you do that for?!" he demanded and started to put the pieces back together.
Jack ran his hands through his hair, gritting his teeth. "I'm trying to sleep!" he hissed in exasperation, his voice cracking and making him cough violently. "It was either the phone, or you," he growled, flopping back against the seat, rubbing his dry, dark-circled eyes.
"It's probably a good idea you try and stay awake," Rudy advised gently, briefly turning around to look at him before he had to swerve around the corner. "We don't want you waking up a-"
"I know," Jack said abruptly, putting up a hand to stop him from talking.
Rudy nodded, then plastered a smile on his face. "Besides, we're nearly at the airport," he said and everyone looked at the road sign as it passed. "At least they'll have food on the jet," he added happily and Jerry grinned; he couldn't remember the last time he ate.
"That I can't keep down," Jack pointed out miserably, Jerry rubbing his back comfortingly.
"Sorry," Rudy apologised with a grimace. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm starving," he said and on cue, his stomach rumbled loudly, making Jack scowl.
Jerry looked at him pityingly; it was going to be a long few days for him.
"Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts, we are beginning our descent."
Jerry sighed in relief, throwing his hands up in the air with a big grin on his face. That could not have come at a better time and it was music to his ears.
The whole flight had consisted of Kim being a huff because she wasn't allowed to use her phone because it interfered with the jet's turbulence, Milton sitting as far away as possible from the rest of them so he could sing loudly at the top of his voice, claiming he was just doing it to keep Jack awake, until they had found a way around the, 'Please remain seated during the flight' rule, by throwing pillows at Milton and Jack clocking him around the head when he had pretended he needed to go to the bathroom. Thankfully, there had been an absence of Rudy's step-mum's poodle.
A loud hissing noise shot through the jet and the door opened itself, Jerry having to fight not to burst out of it and kiss the ground like some freak out of a comedy movie.
Sweltering heat hit him the minute he stepped out of the jet, watching everyone else, except Jack, pull their shirts away from their bodies. Jerry squinted through the sunlight to see a pick-up truck rumbling down the road, a man in his fifties getting out when it came to a stop.
"Jack?" he said almost hesitantly as he walked over, Jack nodding and smiling.
"Hey Grandpa." He fell into his arms as he walked closer, the hug equally warm on both sides as Jack's granddad smoothed a hand over his hair affectionately.
"It's good to see you again, bud," he murmured, pulling away and holding him at arm's length. "Damn, boy, you look like Hell," he said lowly and Jack scoffed. He hadn't even seen the half of it yet.
"Feel like it too," he groaned, coughing to clear his throat. He jolted, and turned around to Jerry, Kim, Rudy and Milton. "Oh, these are my friends I told you about," he said with a smile. "Jerry, Kim, Milton and Rudy," he introduced them, pointing to each of them in turn.
"Nice to meet you, Sir," Rudy said, stepping forwards to shake his hand, that he returned with a friendly gusto, Rudy opening his mouth in a silent groan of pain and shaking his knuckles when Jack's granddad wasn't looking.
"Call me 'Victor', Sir's too formal," he said with a smile and everyone nodded, Jack coming to stand beside them. "How hurry into the car, we've got daylight to burn and a cure to make," he said, clapping his hands and making a gesture towards the truck.
"Cure?!" Jerry and Jack blurted out in unison, Jack looking almost elated, whereas Jerry looked confused. He must have misheard him, but if he didn't, that definitely meant there was a chance to save Jack.
"I'll explain on the way," Victor said quickly, urging them towards his car, where they stopped suddenly.
"What are the spikes for?" Jerry asked nervously, hesitantly reaching out and poking one, withdrawing with a frightened look on his face. They definitely didn't have trucks like this one in Seaford.
"Stops the Zombie's clingin' to the car and impales 'em," Victor explained off-handedly with a shrug.
"Told you Texas was worse," Jack murmured in Jerry's ear, paling and rolling his eyes upwards before he doubled over and threw up again, everyone jumping back as it splattered against the grass.
"Good Lord, boy!" Victor exclaimed while Jack stood back up and wiped his mouth, ashen-faced. "Somebody get my grandson a bucket!" he ordered, gesturing to the old fire hose nearby, putting a hand on Jack's shoulder as he panted shallowly.
"On it," Milton said, scurrying off towards the bucket. The post looked rotted and abandoned, no-one would miss it.
This time, the car journey wasn't so glamorous. Rudy and Victor were sat in the front while Jack, Jerry, Kim and Milton were all squashed in the back, Jack probably suffering the most has he was pressed tightly against the door, but at least they weren't going at a tortoise's pace anymore and Victor wasn't messing around.
"So, Mr. Brewer-uh, Victor," Kim corrected herself mid-way through, receiving a pleased grunt from Victor. "What were you saying about a cure?" she asked and Jack sat up intently at that.
"There's a recipe for it," Victor revealed, speeding around a corner. "My son was experimentin' after things went topsy-turvy," he explained. "Thankfully it worked when he got bit," he said in relief and Jerry saw Jack's face turn into an ugly scowl.
"Hell of a lotta good it did," he muttered sourly under his breath, clenching his fists around the rim of the bucket.
"Easy, bud," Victor said gently and Jack sighed, retreating back to his squashed position between Jerry and the door. "And then he locked it in his office, but he was killed 'cause no-one could be sure he was cured - thought he was just pullin' their legs, y'see - and the morgue, and his office, was abandoned," he explained. "Recipe's still there, though," he said, almost surprised himself.
"Let's hope we get it in time," Jerry murmured, briefly glancing at Jack who was staying silent and staring out the window.
Jerry's brows furrowed in confusion at a soft murmuring sound, before he realised it was coming from beside him. Jack was swaying slightly, singing utter nonsense to himself in a quiet voice, his eyes glazing over as his head lolled forwards on his neck.
"Jack?" Jerry gently grabbed his head and lifted it up, being met with a dizzy smile before Jack's head slipped from his hands and went down again. "Dude, you're cracking up!" he said worriedly, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him, but he didn't respond, just kept on singing and couldn't make himself look up as his neck seemed to have given out.
"What's wrong with him?" Rudy asked in concern, nearly twisting himself around the seat so he could look at Jack.
"He's delirious," Victor said in an effort to calm them down, but it did nothing of the sort. "It'll come and go," he explained. "Usually happens right before his skin's gonna start greyin'," he said, looking at him from the side-mirror. Jerry froze where he was sat; now they were definitely pressed for time.
"No I will not march in the pudding parade!" Jack yelled suddenly.
Jerry was unable to stop the snigger that burst out of his mouth at that, covering his mouth to muffle his giggles. He knew he shouldn't be laughing at Jack in a time like this, but he couldn't help it.
"Jerry!" Kim hissed, slapping him on the arm.
"What?" he said nonchalantly, throwing his hands up in the air. "He may be delirious, but he's funny," he added defensively.
"You won't be thinkin' it's funny when one'a his delusions makes 'im rip your head off," Victor said plainly from the front seat, making Jerry glance at Jack with widened eyes. He swallowed hard. Jack was stronger than him whenever they wrestled, and he would hold back so he wouldn't get hurt. But he had a feeling delusional Jack wouldn't.
"Sorry, Sir," he apologised, feeling like this was the only time Victor was going to make an exception since he saw him smirk at him from the mirror, chuckling to himself.
Jerry stumbled into Victor's house, with Jack's arm around one shoulder and Rudy supporting the other. Kim and Milton followed, filling Jack in on his delusions on the car ride here, in-between fits of giggles that had Jack reddening slightly. Jerry fought to hold in his laughter; it may have been funny, but it was the precursor that Jack was headed for a slow and very painful transformation.
"Wow, this is a classy joint, yo!" Jerry said appreciatively to Victor, needing something to take his mind away from the dark place it was in, gently easing Jack into the chair that Victor had pulled up for him. He was breathing heavily and he was the color of a dead man. Even his eyes were paling, which meant it wasn't far away, but he hadn't technically promised to shoot him, which took a load of weight off.
"Thanks," Victor said proudly, glancing briefly around the ranch's kitchen. "I took my pension out in case Jack and Cassie ever decided to move back here," he explained and Jerry saw Jack look slightly uncomfortable, his face falling at the mention of his mother.
Jerry felt a surge of frustration, this apocalypse destroyed lives and ripped families apart on a daily basis and it was frustrating that nothing could be done to stop it. Or no-one could do anything because they had just given up trying to protect those that they love.
"I was doing what again, Kim?" Jack demanded heatedly, breaking off into a brief coughing fit.
Kim chuckled to hide her worried expression. "It was funny," she protested weakly and Jerry grinned; was she talking about the times when Jack would just start singing to himself and everyone would join in because they needed a laugh? the time Jack would just say random things out of the blue? or was it when he had insisted on playing I Spy?
"Whatever," Jack said dismissively, rolling his eyes, trying to hide his embarrassment. "So where's this recipe?" he asked, standing up abruptly, only to be forced back down from a mixture of a dizzy sway and Victor gently coaxing him back.
"Easy tiger," he said with a light laugh, stopping when Jack glared at him. "We gotta figure out a plan; we can't just go in half cocked like a bunch'a ninnies," he reasoned, everyone but Jack nodding in agreement.
"I don't have much time!" Jack yelled frantically, showing his fear openly for the first time since this whole affair began. If Jack was scared that was bad news, and everyone knew it, especially Jerry; Jack would tightrope over a shark for him, but if he was scared, they would all fall with him. He was the most important piece in the puzzle that was the Wasabi Warriors.
"I know, son," Victor said gently, Jerry walking over to rub Jack's back as he took a few deep breaths, smiling gratefully to link their fingers together, the gesture not bothering Jerry much until it hit him what they were actually doing, but he still didn't move.
"Just calm down." That was next to impossible as far as everyone was concerned, there was the slightest inkling that their friend could be saved and they were shamelessly grabbing for it; for Jack's last chance. They owed him that much, or if not, more.
"Jerry?" Victor called over to him and he looked up. "You seem like an affable fella" - he wasn't sure whether to be flattered or offended - "can you gimme a hand?" he asked.
"Uh..." Jerry licked his lips nervously, looking down to where his and Jack's fingers were still intertwined, then to Jack's eyes that were pleading, almost. He wanted to help probably more than anyone, save Victor, in the room, but the only way he was going would be if Jack was coming and he knew Victor wouldn't want to put Jack in more danger, despite the fact that he could still be a big help.
Kim, noticing the way they were looking at each other - depending on each other was probably more suitable at this point - stepped forwards. "I'll go with you," she offered bravely and Jerry and Jack exchanged nervous looks.
"No offence, darlin'," Victor began, putting a hand on Kim's shoulder. "But it'd be a mighty-fine shame if somethin' were to happen to ya," he declined tactfully, Kim nodding in begruded understanding.
"An' I need Rudy to stay with ya'll in case any walkers show up," he explained, Rudy's eyes widening. "An' let's face it, your friend looks like a beanpole that'd snap if ya left him out in the sun too long," he said rashly in Milton's direction, making Kim chuckle.
Surprisingly, Milton didn't look bothered in the slightest, when he usually would have at least pouted. "I wanna be offended, but there's something about his accent that's so damn charming," he said to Kim with a grin.
"It's the Southern hospitality," Victor said proudly, folding his arms.
"Well, pops," Jack interjected from his chair. "D'you think you could show me some 'Southern hospitality' and help Jerry drag my butt into the car?" He was going, there was no doubt in Jerry's mind, but it ripped him apart to know that if Jack did turn, his loyalty would be repaid with an insatiable hunger that would make all of them his next meal, regardless of what they meant to him now.
"You gon' be alright stayin' here, Rudy?" Victor asked. "There's a gun in the medicine cabinet if ya'll need it," he said nonchalantly, Kim and Milton exchanging strange looks. Jerry guessed that was all the medicine he needed as of late.
"What about food?" Rudy asked hurriedly. "I'm starved," he added, with a guilty look at Jack, who was narrowing his eyes.
"Rudy!" Kim and Milton hissed in unison and he shrugged.
"Haha, knock yourselves out," Victor encouraged and the three of them immediately shot to the cupboards, but Jerry couldn't even think about eating right now. "Jerry, let's get goin'," he said, giving Jack a pitying look. "Jack, I still think you should rest up," he advised, but Jack shook his head.
Rudy paused mid-search and peeked out from a cabinet. "If anyone can help you get the cure, it's him," he said confidently. "He's the best in the Dojo," he said proudly and Jack smiled warmly at him, Rudy returning the gesture before he buried his head back in the cabinet.
Victor sighed; there was no point in arguing about it. "S'long as you're sure," he said hesitantly and Jack nodded, standing up with Jerry's support. "C'mon boys." He walked out into the hallway and they followed, walking out the front door with Victor locking it behind him, sliding the key back through the letter box in case Rudy, Kim and Milton needed to get out for what ever reason.
They got in the car and waited for him - Jerry noticing Jack was starting to feel heavier and lean on him more and more - to lock the large iron fence around the ranch. The electric current buzzed up to the tips of the barbed wire, when Victor gave a satisfied smile before getting into the car himself.
Victor twisted the key inside the ignition, the tyres kicking up sand behind them as they roared out of the driveway. This time he wasn't going to go slow. They had found an absolution and were going to get to it before Jack came to his senses and got them.
About a half hour later, they pulled up outside an abandoned building - charred brick and crumbling walls gave way to the building they would be heading into, 'politely' ignoring the tape forbidding them to cross - abandoned to the living at least.
Hordes of Zombie's were circling the area, or something on the ground it seemed from closer inspection, like vultures. Their mottled skin was cracked and blistering with the heat of the midday sun and they had a ferocity amongst themselves, attacking each other in the way the Seaford Zombie's hadn't.
A gurgling growl distracted them and Victor quickly yanked Jack and Jerry behind a rock, putting a finger to his lips as they watched the Zombie's gather in something that vaguely resembled a pecking order, before they started to limp - or in one's case, drag it's leg-less body across the ground - off.
"What're they doing?" Jerry asked in a hushed whisper, eyeing the straggling leg-less one with a particular venom. They were the one's that freaked him out the most; they were the one's that could sneak up and bite your ankle when you weren't looking. One almost did. If Jack hadn't been there, it would have most likely been him in this situation.
"They can smell somethin'," Victor whispered back. "Probably goin' off to eat more'a their victims before they wake up," he explained and Jerry cringed while Jack looked resigned. He was probably wondering how he was going to think of something so disgusting as natural instinct soon.
Victor stood up, Jack and Jerry following suit. "Now, they react to noise, so we've just gotta stay quiet and we'll be fine," he reassured them. "C'mon," he urged and the three of them began tiptoeing towards the dilapidated building, stopping in shock when they reached what the Zombie's had been circling.
A man's body was laying haphazardly across the dried grass, large chunks bitten out of him that were bleeding profusely.
Jerry covered his mouth with a hand, trying to block out the smell. "Gross..." he groaned, while Jack just stared at it in disgust, glaring after the trail of dust the Zombie's were kicking up.
Victor bent down to check his touch his neck, the flesh appearing warm and soft under his fingers. "Can't have been dead for more than a few hours," he said, picking up the man's heavily bleeding wrist to check his watch that had stopped.
Jerry felt Jack tense beside him and he didn't like it. He was being quiet, too quiet. "Jack?" he asked hesitantly, rousing Victor's attention away from the man at the same time. "You okay?"
"Yeah." Jack nodded, but then a disconcerting hungry look flashed in his eyes. "But I also really wanna eat him," he said in a deadpan, Jerry only realising what he said until it was too late.
Jack suddenly lurched forwards with an animalistic roar, scrabbling for the man and Jerry was struggling to hold him back. He was savagely fighting against him, hissing and growling with malice Jerry wouldn't have thought he would be capable of. He wanted that body.
With a surprising burst of strength, Jack tossed Jerry off him and he sailed through the air, landing heavily on his arm, but he didn't care. Jack looked at him angrily, before he cracked his neck and turned his attention once more to the body, his movements slow but calculated.
Jerry scrambled up quickly from the ground - why the Hell wasn't Victor helping?! - and ran towards Jack again, shielding the man's body. Jack growled in anger and reared towards him, baring his teeth in a snarl. "Jack, no!" he screamed, throwing his hands out to stop Jack from biting into him.
There was a splintering sound and Jerry turned to see Victor brandishing a wooden post. "Jerry, duck!" he yelled and Jerry threw himself out of harms way, rolling onto his feet as Victor swung the post at Jack's head.
Jack caught the post in a crushing grip, a mad glint in his eyes as he tore it roughly from Victor's hands, throwing it away from him, rushing forwards and picking him up, throwing him to the ground. Victor groaned in pain and Jack relentlessly went back towards the body.
"You'd best hope he ain't gonna turn," Victor groaned, rolling over to his side and nursing his ribs, making Jerry wonder how deadly Jack's strength would be if he turned. He didn't want to think about it, but he couldn't help it. "He'd be one heck of a walker," he added.
"You're telling me!" Jerry yelled back. He bit his lip before making the very stupid, or brave, decision to tackle Jack to the ground, both of them tumbling until Jerry could stop and pin Jack to the ground, grabbing his collar.
"Jack!" he called to him over his deafening growls, rapidly shaking him to try and calm him down, but it wasn't working. "Jack, calm down," he pleaded in a quieter voice, eyes widening as Jack seemed to do the exact opposite and snap his teeth at his wrists.
He grabbed his face to restrict his movement, but he still tried relentlessly. Jerry bit his lip nervously, swearing he could see Jack's eyes flashing yellow for a split second. He shuffled over slightly as Victor crouched down beside him, wincing when he slapped Jack hard across the face.
He reluctantly let go when Jack stilled, his struggles ceasing and his eyes closing, taking a deep breath. "What the hell was that?!" he yelled in confusion, finding it insane to admit that Jack had just attacked him.
"I told ya, you wouldn't be thinkin' his delusions would be funny when he tries to rip your head off," Victor reminded him gravely, Jerry sighing. They had to get that cure, and fast, but he couldn't help but think that was what Jack needed; he couldn't keep any food down, so maybe that was why he went so crazy, but Jerry felt crazy for thinking it.
"Ugh," Jack groaned as he came to, sitting up and rubbing his face, looking around in confusion. "What happened?" he asked in a daze and Jerry got off him, helping him up to his feet, catching him before he could fall over.
"No time to explain, bud," Victor said quickly, briefly rubbing his hands where the wood must have ripped into them. "Let's just get this recipe and get you cured," he said and Jack nodded, the three of the walking towards the door, ducking under the police tape.
Jerry reached out a hand and tried the door, the handle not budging. "Locked," he said through gritted teeth, the handle having rusted shut too. "Now what do we do?" he asked.
"Why don't we just go and ask someone for a key?" Jack retorted sarcastically. He unraveled himself from Jerry's body and went closer to the door. "Hold my arms," he said quickly.
"What?" Jerry asked with a bemused expression on his face.
"Just do it," Jack ordered and Jerry was taken aback by the rashness in his voice, but went forwards to hold his arms.
Jack leaned back into him slightly, throwing his weight up off the ground, and smashed his feet into the door, breaking through the rusted lock and ripping it clean from its hinges, it still hanging on by the rusted lock. Jerry let go of Jack and stared at the door in wonder. That was one way to get a door open...
"Nice work, Jack!" Victor said proudly, clapping him on the back, to which Jack snorted at.
"Smug, much?" he retorted with a grin. "You taught me that," he pointed out, Victor chuckling as they went inside, having to squint to see through the darkness.
From what Jerry could see through the rays of light coming in through the boarded up windows, that the room was completely charred, nothing remaining of the billboards that had once been on the walls from the looks of it, and the ashes from anything wooden that must have been out here.
A light switch flicked on - Jack remarking in amazement about how the electric was still working - and Jerry reeled back in disgust. Charred Zombie corpses were littering the floor and flies were buzzing around them greedily, thankfully covering their lifeless eyes, blood was splattered up the walls and cobwebs stretched from wall corner to wall corner.
"Guys, look," Jack called and Jerry ran over, seeing Jack by an untouched, unburnt door. "The fire didn't touch this door," he observed with a puzzled expression, twisting the lock, watching it break off in his hands.
He discarded it and pushed the door open, flicking the light switch on. "Look's like the fire didn't get in here either," he remarked, amazed.
Jerry felt his brows furrow in confusion. The door was wood, so shouldn't it have burned with everything else? Unless he was missing something. "Whoever was in here last didn't even touch the fire extinguisher," he said, pointing to the shiny red canister still in its wall bracket.
"There's Dad's computer," Jack said, walking over to his desk, Victor putting down several sheets of paper he had been examining. "Be a miracle if it still works," he added, going over to a bulletin board on the wall and reading the several newspaper headlines.
"Well we're goin' need a lotta them, ain't we?" he sighed, pulling up the chair and switching the computer on, frowning when he hit a password screen. "Jack, please tell me you remember your Ma's maiden name?" he pleaded with him.
"Password?" Jack guessed, looking at the papers that Victor had been reading, his fists clenching slightly around them.
"Password," Victor repeated in annoyance.
Jerry's eyes narrowed and he moved closer to the screen. "Why does it have colors?" he asked in confusion, Victor doing a double-take he see what he was talking about. "And what's this sheet for?" he asked, picking it up. It had several similar objects all in rows, and each row was a different color, one thing from each row having been circled in red marker pen.
"It's a color-code," Victor said in amazement, taking the sheet from him and starting to input the password.
A thud distracted them both and Jerry turned in time to see Jack fall and hit his head on the corner of the table. His eyes widened as he ran over and crouched down beside him, Victor running over.
"Jack!" Jerry scooped up Jack's head, a sinking feeling boiling in his stomach as he felt a warm, sticky liquid on his palms. He gingerly eased one out from under Jack's head, eyes widening when his hand was coated with Jack's blood.
"I knew this was a bad idea," Victor muttered, cursing under his breath in a way that made Jerry's ears burn. "Boy's just too stubborn," he added and Jerry found it ironic that stubbornness could potentially be the one thing that lead him closer to the thing he was fighting against.
"He's gonna be okay, right?" Jerry asked frantically, wiping his bloody hands on his jeans, biting his lip nervously as the pool underneath Jack's head began to spread like a wildfire.
"As long as he didn't break his neck when he fell," Victor said and Jerry's eyes widened as he bit his lip.
Anxiously, Jerry bent down and pressed his ear to Jack's chest, nearly passing out with relief as he heard a faint heart beat and Jack's quiet breathing. "He's still breathing," he said.
"Thank God."
Jerry yelped and lurched up suddenly, feeling Jack twitch underneath him. Something didn't feel right; it felt like when something slimy would climb over his skin, not Jack waking up.
"What is it?" Victor asked worriedly.
"His arm," Jerry said in a panic. "It moved," he said in surprise, gesturing to Jack's right arm.
Victor reached for Jack's arm, pulling up his sleeve, the two of them gasping in horror at what they saw. There were violently pulsing dark grey patches on Jack's arm, his veins protruding thickly beneath them.
"No..."
So? What did you all think? Liked it? Hated it? Tell me in a review. :)
Kinda had Milton breaking the fourth wall with singing the theme song, but oh well. Fight me 'bout it. :) And I also put two episode references in there, see if you can find them. One's a little more hidden than the other.
Hope you liked the chapter and I'll see you next time with the next one. :) I'll try not to take too long, but I really can't promise anything.