(Frerard) The human race has been almost wiped out and a swarm of zombies have taken over. Gerard and Mikey are survivors living in a secured house in the city. Frank is the first survivor that th...
The sky had faded to a dark purple haze, white crystal sprinkled across it and wispy clouds drifting aimlessly. Flickering candle light licked at the ridges of the skeleton shapes carved into the clock on the wall, which confirmed my suspicion that time had drifted slowly into the early evening. Through the open window I could see that the streets were bare, deserted. The only signs of life were the subtle movements of orange leaves on tree branches. “It’s time to close the shutters.” I heard a monotone voice and turned around to see my brother leaning against the door frame watching me. His hair had grown a little longer than he usually preferred it, resting on the top of his glasses and flicking out in textured strands. I turned back to look out of the window, being caught by a gust of wind that picked up sections of my own black hair and placing them back down in front of my eyes. I shook my head and continued to stare out of the window at the shattered shards of glass that glistened in the young moonlight like immobile fireflies.
“Gerard,” he repeated, his voice deepening. “We can’t keep doing this every night. Help me close the shutters.” His tone was rigid with authority, but as I turned back to look at him, I could see that his expression was one of concern and not anger.
“You’re right Mikey.” I replied, “I’m… I’m sorry.” He smiled, keeping his eyes focused on me. He didn’t shift, watching me to make sure that I didn’t waste time. I turned toward the window, reaching both of my arms above my head and grasping a metal handle that chilled my skin. With all of my strength I yanked the handle and it brought down a huge steel piece that screeched to a halt at the bottom of the window. Most of the light was sucked from the room. I turned back to Mikey, noticing the way his lips were twisted slightly upward. “Go on then,” I told him, pointing toward the doorway. He grinned and spun around on one foot, pacing down the hallway. I walked the opposite way.
The house was secured and Mikey and I were lying on our backs, staring up into the darkness that would usually be our ceiling. The old memory foam mattress had lost its comfort after being shared every night for so many months. (Or maybe I had just lost the ability to find comfort in anything.) Silence put it hands on either side of my head and pushed. I could feel my stomach churning, and in a matter of seconds it was growling and clawing away at my insides like an angry tiger. “Yeah I’m hungry too.” Mikey empathized. “We’ll find food tomorrow, don’t worry about it.”
“I wasn’t worried,” I grinned at him, aware of the fact that it was too dark to see my facial expressions. “I’m looking forward to a good trip outside, actually.”
“Why do you always look forward to doing things that could get you killed?” he whispered, it was as if the words fought their way out from between his lips. I laughed quietly.
“Flesh dolls are stupid, they wouldn’t catch me if I stood in the middle of the road screaming ‘I’m here, come and fucking get me!’”
“Will you stop calling them that!” Mikey gasped, “It freaks me out.” I let a smile spread from ear to ear.
“What would you prefer me to call them?” I asked him, turning to face him, my body shifting over the mattress uncomfortably. I could feel his legs wriggle nervously as he tried to stutter a reply, but failed.
“Sorry,” I sighed, rolling onto my back again. My chest tightened around my ribcage as guilt filled me like sand in a timer. Mikey had never quite managed to swallow his fear. I knew that he was terrified, and being the only person he had left to rely on, it was my responsibility to keep him safe and happy.
“It’s okay,” he mumbled. “Sometimes I just don’t think you understand just how serious of a situation we’re in.”
“I do,” I reassured him, “I guess making fun of it makes me feel better.” I felt his body shift and a warm arm wrapped itself around my chest.
“I love you, Gee.” He murmured. My reflexes sent me another smile and I whispered,
“I love you too.”
My body bolted into an upright, sitting position, my breathing was heavy and the saliva in my mouth tasted stale. I looked over to my left, hardly able to see in the darkness. Mikey was still breathing peacefully. My ears picked up on drawn out groans that rung sickeningly in the distance. The flesh dolls were active. This was normal for this time of night, this was their peak time. It was rare to see more than five flesh dolls out in the day time; they tended to be highly nocturnal and very slow if they were out during the day. Then I heard it, a gut wrenching cry that ripped through the night. My eyes widened and I stood up, causing Mikey to moan softly in his sleep. “What the fuck was that?” I whispered to myself. The sound of a gunshot echoed from outside, breaking Mikey’s deep trance as he scrambled up from the bed and grasped my arm.
“What the fuck was that?” he hissed.
“HELP, SOMEBODY FUCKING HELP!” A voice cried in terror and desperation. Mikey winced, his grip on my arm tightening. “PLEASE, OH GOD SOMEBODY PLEASE.”
I acted on impulse. My feet moving without permission, my hand reaching for the shotgun propped up against the wall.
“Gerard please, Stop!” Mikey yelled behind me, but it was too late. My legs were like clockwork, racing toward the front door.