Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

It was a bleak morning. Bleak sky. Bleak landscape. A wasteland, devoid of the bustling people going about their days like they used to. How long had it been since then? Awsten had no idea – all concept of time had since disappeared from his mind – another day is another day. But another day alone felt like an eternity. He wasn’t really living anymore, only surviving. ‘In the apocalypse,’ he supposed, ‘that’s all you can do’ – survive, ‘ and not get ripped to fucking shreds by zombies’ . 

Awsten would be telling a Big Fat Lie if he said he found absolutely no fun in the whole situation whatsoever. Sure, he got lonely (so fucking lonely), but killing zombies, building new hideouts or foraging for supplies and finding gold mines of materials was pretty cool. He just wished he could do it with someone else; with Geoff, or Otto, or Jawn... 

He’d lost contact with his friends at the beginning of the outbreak and had no idea of whether they were alive or not. What use was a dead phone with nowhere to charge it? Absolutely zero. Zilch. Nada. Besides, everyone seemed to have disappeared off the map, which was fair enough – the zombies might be ‘undead’, but they were still effectively enhanced humans, some of them weird, grotesque mutations of the environment in which they had been infected in. They were fast, and annoyingly intelligent. They could track you. Some were even half conscious in their decaying state. Those kinds of zombies were a LOT harder to kill, for a multitude of reasons Awsten really didn’t like to dwell upon. The begging and the crying and the gargled, suffering chokes would forever echo in his mind. It really was kill or be killed in this world, and Awsten had given up on pretending it was just a video-game-like dream. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t so cool. This was real, it was happening, and he was slap-bang in the middle of it all. 

Awsten wandered absent-mindedly along the dusty path, not particularly bothered about how visible he was in the open like this. He was bored anyway, hoping a zombie would show up and try to bite him so he could fight it. He could use a few replacement teeth for his wooden baseball bat anyway. He smiled at the thought of what Otto might think about having a toothbat named after him, if Awsten ever saw him again. 

He swung the bat back and forth, whistling a made-up tune he’d convert into a guitar melody if he could actually get his goddamn guitar from his goddamn house in his goddamn zombie-infested hometown. Not that he knew what way that was. His sense of direction was awful – he never had any idea where he was going, where he’d been – even at home. You could tell him he was in one state when it was really another and he’d probably believe you. He was lucky he knew the way back to his new basecamp, a little hideout he’d made in an abandoned shack in the woods, near the derelict town he was currently exploring and looting for supplies. There were a couple of places in the town he still hadn’t been yet. He was itching to find something, anything , even remotely exciting. 

The low grumble of an approaching zombie cut through the silence, causing Awsten to stop dead in his tracks and smirk, glancing around to determine where exactly the sound came from. The growl came again, to his left, and he slowly turned to see a group of zombies stumbling towards him. They were taking their time, believing he was an easy target – alone, out in the open, just standing there watching them edge towards him. Awsten swung Otto the toothbat over his shoulder and placed one hand on his hip.

“You guys wanna play, huh?” he taunted, “See if you can catch me.” 

Awsten sprinted away, hearing the zombies take off into a faltering run behind him. He chuckled as they began to catch up. Taking a sharp right down an alley, Awsten then launched himself at the wire fence at the end of it, clambering up like a spider. He swung himself over onto the other side. It wouldn’t take long for the straggle of zombies to tear out the wire fence and continue chasing him. ‘ Finally ,’ he thought, ‘something fun to do’ . 

Awsten spun around once more at the sound of growling zombies and stood back a little as he watched them pull at the fence he’d just climbed over. As he predicted, they quickly broke through, and it wasn’t long before he had to break into another run. That was one more thing about these undead beings – they were extremely persistent . They had a lot of stamina for something that was basically rotting flesh on legs. Awsten had to admire their tenacity – it rivalled his own and meant he had more of a challenge trying to outrun them. The whole activity was more fun that way. 

Feeling his legs begin to ache at the speed and duration he’d been running for, Awsten cast his eyes across his surroundings to calculate his next move. He spotted some conveniently placed old recycle bins and leapt onto them, pulling himself up the wall they rested against using the bricks that jutted out from it. It was like a little climbing wall. He dragged himself over the top and onto the flat roof of the building. Panting loudly, he lay on his back for a moment to catch his breath. He got up onto his knees, crawling back to the edge of the roof, and peered over. Awsten laughed as he watched the zombies struggle to follow him up, failing fantastically and ending up in a heap on top of each other. 

“Sorry gang,” he started, triumphant, “better luck next time!” 

Awsten laughed again and rolled over onto his feet, jumping up. He sauntered over to the other side of the roof to search for a way down. He let out a quiet chuckle upon finding unbroken stairs all the way to the ground. ‘ Lucky me’, he thought. He skipped about three steps at a time, then slid down the banister of the last six. Checking Otto the Toothbat was still securely slung over his shoulder, Awsten trudged out of the alleyway and back out onto the street. He turned right and stopped rigid in his tracks, coming face to face with an even larger group of zombies than the set he’d just escaped from. 

“Shit.” He murmured and once more sped away as quickly as he could. 

Unfortunately, this group were a lot faster – clearly, they’d been ‘undead’ for much longer and had gotten used to their new bodies. Their rotten hands reached out, ghosting against his jacket flaring behind him. Awsten tried running faster before remembering something his dad had once said; “Never run in a straight line, when you’re being chased, Awsten. Always run in a zig-zag – you’re less likely to be hit doing that.” Sure, he was talking about outrunning someone who was shooting at you, but this wasn’t much different, right? Both were life or death situations. Awsten darted to the left before switching up and heading right instead. He was too busy thinking about simply outrunning the zombies to properly look for somewhere to escape to. 

Glancing behind him, Awsten growled in annoyance upon seeing how close they still were to catching up. 

“Fucking dammit,” he muttered, out of breath. 

Now not looking in front of him, Awsten failed to swerve out of the way of a pile of bricks from an old crumbling wall. He tripped and fell, the gravel scraping his cheek as he rolled into another alleyway. He felt blood trickle down his face. Awsten winced as he pushed himself back onto his knees, ready to get up and run again, but he was already cornered. 

“Shit, shit, shit…” he faltered.  The zombies growled and drooled, hands grasping towards him. The unmistakable stench of rotting, decaying once-human flesh soaked the air as the death creatures fumbled closer. Awsten scrambled backwards, stones digging into his palms even through the fingerless gloves he was wearing. His back hit a wall, and thinking this was it, that he was about to get torn to shreds, Awsten shut his eyes tight and sucked in a breath, preparing for their claw-like hands to rake across his skin. 

A shot rang out. Awsten flinched in surprise. Several more shots followed, as did several thuds on the ground. Awsten dared to open his eyes juuust a little. In front of him lay about five dead zombies, with another five further back towards the entrance of the alleyway staring dumbfoundedly at their dead mates. Awsten too was staring just as dumbfoundedly at the scene before him. Metres away, with the pistol gripped in his white-knuckled hands still smoking, was an oddly familiar silhouette of a young man. The evening breeze swept through his dark brown hair, and he stood confident despite being faced with a group of ten zombies. Which was now a group of five, since Silhouette Man shot half of them. 

The setting sun cast an orange-pink glow upon everything. Awsten swore he had died, and in front of him was the angel tasked with either sending him to heaven, or banishing him to hell. The blood from his nose dripped down over his lips and he idly raised a hand to wipe it away. Awestruck, Awsten’s mismatched blue and green irises never left the figure of the man who’d just saved his life.

There was movement suddenly from beside them both, as one of the previously supposed dead zombies twitched. Silhouette Man raised his gun again and fired. The zombie jerked, then stopped moving. The remaining five were now stumbling towards them, but Silhouette was ready for them. He pulled out another round of ammo from his belt and reloaded his pistol before letting out five more shots. Their echoes ricocheted off the walls of the alley. He waited a minute to double check that those zombies were one-hundred percent dead before he approached Awsten, holding out his hand to help him out. He took it gratefully and found himself a little shocked at how soft his fingers felt. 

Now up close, Awsten looked into his face, losing himself for a moment in the depths of two piercingly sea-blue eyes. Blue eyes that Awsten knew very well.
“Oh my God,” he gasped, “Geoff?” 

For a split second, Geoff froze, and utter shock crossed his expression, before the realisation fully hit him. 

“Holy shit – Awsten?” he gaped, “you’re… oh my God, you’re okay, you’re alive…” Geoff trailed off as he bundled a slightly bewildered but now incredibly relieved Awsten into his arms. Awsten couldn’t help but melt into Geoff’s warm embrace – he’d always given great hugs. Geoff buried his head into Awsten’s shoulder, practically breathing him in. 

“Oh man, you have no idea how glad I am to see you.” Geoff whispered, his voice vibrating softly against the skin of Awsten’s neck, sending a shiver down his spine. 

“Geoff, I think I’m more glad to see you. Saved my ass back there,” Awsten giggled. Geoff pulled away from the hug to look at Awsten again. He tilted his face up by the chin with a gentle finger, inspecting the injuries received upon Awsten’s altercation with the floor. 

“You’re bleeding,” he muttered, lifting his other hand to wipe away the dirt and grime on Awsten’s cheek. A little overwhelmed by Geoff’s tenderness, Awsten leapt at his favourite use of avoiding emotions. 

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. I did in fact smack the floor quite dramatically earlier before you showed up to take all the glory of being a hero.” Sarcasm dripped from his mouth, but the shit-eating grin on his face left an aftertaste of honey. Geoff rolled his eyes at him and sighed. 

“Good to see the apocalypse hasn’t changed you at all, Aws.” he retorted, shooting Awsten an equally sarcastic smirk. Awsten scoffed in mock annoyance.
“My personality is perfectly charming, thank you very much,” he responded, a little indignantly, but still smiling. He’d missed the back-and-forth, full of sass quips between him and his friends.

Geoff rolled his eyes once more, but upon seeing another group of approaching zombies, he sobered up and cocked his gun.
“Come on, Awsten, I’m doing all the work here.” he commented, turning to grin at him. “Just like I did all the work in our history project for Miss Heever back in tenth grade.” he added. Awsten scoffed again and pulled his bat from over his shoulders. 

“Fuck you. I did some of that!” he countered. Geoff laughed. 

“Sure you did. I totally got us that A.” he pulled the trigger of his gun and killed two of the stumbling zombies in quick succession. Awsten leapt forward and swung his bat, sending two more flying into a third. He whacked down onto their heads and winced slightly as he heard, and even felt, their skulls crunching. Black blood spattered across the gravel like a macabre display of spilled ink.
“Probably never getting over that.” Awsten muttered, shuddering and wiping away some of the sweat-mixed zombie-residue from his cheeks. Geoff nodded in agreement. 

“Yeah, don’t worry, me neither – it’s an awful sound. It’s all squelchy.”  

“Ew. Even the word ‘squelchy’ is fucking gross.” Awsten cringed, making Geoff giggle at his overdramatic expression. 

Both agreeing they should probably get the hell out of the alleyway, Geoff and Awsten sprinted out towards the main street, dashing down the road, all the while hearing grumbling and growling of more zombies behind them. Geoff grabbed Awsten’s arm and pulled him in the direction he wanted to go.
“This way,” he said, “we need to get outta here.”
“Yeah, I figured.” Awsten replied with a hint of sarcasm (that either went over Geoff’s head, or he ignored it this time), following his lead. This time, they had the advantage of a bigger head-start than Awsten’s solo one earlier – plenty of time to figure out their next move. 

Geoff darted abruptly down a side street and Awsten almost tripped up trying to follow him.
“A little warning next time would be nice,” he remarked. Geoff flashed him a grin. 

“Want me to slow down for ya?” 

“Ha, very funny. If anything, I want you to go faster.” Awsten replied. 

He didn’t expect Geoff to listen to him – he did speed up and raced in front of him. He was kind enough to warn him of the next direction change though, and the two now sprinted down another little street. This one ended in a fenced-off area of woodland that stretched as far as the eye could see. Geoff slowed down to catch his breath. Awsten followed suit. 

Glancing behind them to check if they were safe, Awsten and Geoff stood panting for a few moments. It was quiet, and it appeared they had made excellent work escaping the zombies – there were none in sight. The sky was now a dark orange, with streaks of pink and red scattered across it. Daylight was fading fast, and that meant there was no way Awsten could get back to his own basecamp tonight. Geoff had clearly considered this, as he then piped up with a suggestion:
“Wanna crash at my camp? I don’t particularly like the idea of leaving you out alone here.” he said. Awsten smiled gratefully. 

“I don’t think I could get back to my own camp before dark now anyway,” he said, “so crashing at yours sounds fucking great, and is much appreciated.” he added. Geoff smiled warmly back at him. 

“This way then.” He said, gesturing at him to follow again.
“Hey,” Awsten started, making Geoff stop and turn to face him, “for what it’s worth, Miss Heever totally should have given us an A-plus on that history project.” He finished, grinning. Geoff shook his head and giggled, sighing fondly. 

“Yeah, totally. We got scammed – our project rocked,” he replied. “I still did most of the work though.” He added, making them both laugh. 

Jumping the fence and heading off into the woodland, Awsten and Geoff continued their journey in relatively comfortable silence. The orange sunlight trickled in through the trees like golden rain, leaving crystal-like scatterings of amber upon the ground. It was a gorgeous sight, a hushed reminder of the beauty that used to be found almost everywhere on the planet. 

It had been around eight months since the beginning of the outbreak, but already the plants were beginning to take over, twisting, spiralling, burrowing into any nook and cranny they could find. How quickly wildlife spread when there were barely any humans to destroy it, with their futile ambitions for money and power and immortality. Awsten often thought the outbreak would slow the rate of climate-change, or maybe entirely reset the planet’s atmospheric balances. Like all those ice ages did millions of years ago. Humans kind of sucked anyway. There were certainly a few Awsten had met in his (just) nineteen years of life he’d definitely be happy to live without, but despite all of this, he wouldn’t wish death-by-zombie-decay on his worst enemy. 

Most of the population now was a horrific mutilation of rotting bones and flesh with an equally rotting brain, that weirdly seemed just as intelligent as it was when it was fresh – especially those unlucky half-conscious beings, with memories of the person they used to be. They still had some perception of pain, vaguely aware of their slowly decaying and mutating bodies. Awsten had no fucking clue how there was any logic in that, but all reason had been flung out of the metaphorical window at the start of the outbreak. Nevertheless, as his sister used to say far too many times, “ it is what it is.”  

He wondered where Gracie was now if she was still alive. Contrary to popular belief about siblings, and despite fighting and hating each other for the majority of their childhood, Awsten was now actually very fond of his sister, and she of him. He shuddered at the thought of never seeing her again. Mostly because he wouldn’t be able to tease her anymore. Definitely because of that (he was missing her more than he’d ever admit, especially to her face). 

“So how long have you been scouting round here?” Geoff asked, pulling Awsten out of his thoughts. He glanced up, watching Geoff intently, who had turned around to face him and was walking backwards. He seemed to sense everything surrounding him and didn’t trip up once. Awsten could never . That’s how utterly shit his sense of direction was – so bad it messed with his balance and coordination too. Or was that the ADHD? Probably. Most likely. 

Realising he was staring and hadn’t replied yet, he said, “oh, uh… not long I don’t think?” That was a good point. How long had he been here? Time seemed to work very strangely in the apocalypse. Geoff chuckled at the odd expression Awsten’s uncertainty had left on his face. “I have zero concept of time now.” Awsten added, shrugging his shoulders matter-of-factly, making Geoff laugh again. 

“Honestly,” he started, “me neither. Time is relative anyway. It effectively doesn’t exist anymore.” 

Awsten nodded in agreement, and Geoff twirled around to walk forwards again. Awsten wondered how much further into the forest they had to go until they reached his camp. 

“We’re almost there,” Geoff piped up, as if he had read Awsten’s thoughts, “it’s just around this clearing here,” he said, pointing to a little circle of trees caging the last embers of fading light. Geoff practically skipped forwards through the clearing, tilting his head up to the sky and breathing in deeply, like he was breathing in the only fragments of peace left on the planet. 

“Sometimes when I come through here I can pretend everything is still the way it used to be.” He sighed, closing his eyes, taking another deep breath, then opening his eyes again.  

“Yeah, can imagine. It’s really peaceful.” Awsten added, stopping in the middle of the clearing beside Geoff, who was still staring at the now inky blue sky with a scattering of stars beginning to appear. He smiled softly to himself and looked up too. 

“Do you ever think about whether or not we can get back to how it used to be?” Awsten asked wistfully. Geoff hummed in thought. 

“Yeah, sometimes,” he began, “I miss it. The normality of everything.” He added, looking down at the ground and kicking at it gently, swinging his foot against a couple of stones. 

“Same. I’d so much rather wake up and wonder what the fuck I’m going to do today, rather than wake up and wonder how many zombies I’ll have to escape.” Awsten joked, making them both laugh. 

“Isn’t it weird how quickly all of this happened?” Geoff commented, referring to the beginning of the outbreak. Awsten nodded in agreement, his thoughts drifting off to where all of this started. 

The outbreak was the result of some freak accident involving a chemical the US government had a group of scientists develop, to ‘enhance the qualities of us as human beings’. As per usual, it was all in pursuit of power, control and money. The plan was to have the chemical they called E-THR introduced through a new fast-food chain of restaurants. Something clearly went wrong, despite the many alleged trials carried out testing it. Soon there were reports of undead creatures wreaking havoc upon towns and cities. 

Infections were few and far between at first, but its effectiveness evolved and increased, and thus it spread faster. The chemical was, of course, developed without the knowledge of the general public, but when the number of zombies grew exponentially, word got out about the experiment. It began as a conspiracy, but was swiftly proven correct when confidential information got leaked. The source remained anonymous, but it was obvious the government was indeed at fault. The rest of the world rapidly spiralled into chaos. 

Awsten remembered the day the apocalypse began for him like it was yesterday. He was just sitting in his room strumming his guitar when his phone buzzed with a message. He picked it up, unlocking it and viewing the message – it was from Geoff.
Gee: Dude have you heard???
Aws: ??? heard what ???
Gee: you know all those reports about people turning into zombies
Aws: yeah – people think it’s that new fast-food restaurant, right?
Gee: yeah
Gee: well – uh… you know there’s one a couple miles outside of Houston?
Aws: yeah…
Gee: yeah, we’re fucked
Gee: there are reports of infections near where we are now
Aws: oh shit
Gee: yep

Awsten looked up from his phone, resting his guitar against his desk that stood opposite his bed. The phone in his hands buzzed again.

Gee: Awsten …
Aws: Yeah?
Gee: If I don’t see you again
Aws: Geoff, no
Gee: just know I’d miss you
Aws: you fucking sap, I’d miss you too, but you gotta survive okay?
Aws: we’re gonna be fine, text Otto and Jawn and make sure they’re okay too
Gee: I hope so, and I’ve already texted them both, they’re alright atm
Aws: okay sick that’s good, that’s good
Gee: yeah
Gee: Well, good luck I guess lol
Aws: Good luck I guess to you too lol 

His hands shaking a little, Awsten chucked his phone across his bed. It slid under his pillow, and he heard it knock against the wooden headboard.
“It’s gonna be fine.” He said aloud, not really believing it anymore. 

It was fine when there were random reports from within the US, and a couple reports from elsewhere in the world, but it was no longer fine now the infections had reached him and his friends in Houston. What were they supposed to do? Barricade themselves into their houses, or run? What happens when they run out of food if they chose to stay? Where the fuck were his parents and his sister right now – were they in the house? He didn’t think they’d gone out today, but his attention span lasted about two minutes before his mind drifted elsewhere, so if they had gone out, he’d probably forgotten anyway. 

He was yanked out of his thoughts when his sister Gracie burst through his bedroom door, eyes wide and one of their grandfather’s shotguns from the garage already slung over her shoulders. 

“Aws, we gotta get the fuck outta here.” She insisted, beckoning him out of his room. Awsten leapt to his feet and grabbed his baseball bat from under his bed. He’d never actually used it before – it was just collecting dust under there. Racing down the stairs after his sister, Awsten jumped headfirst into day one of the apocalypse. 

His memory of those first few weeks was a blur – it was chaos and confusion and full of fear, especially when he and his sister got split up from their parents on a scouting expedition. It got even worse when he and Gracie lost each other in the woods somewhere. From then on it was just… seeing how long he could survive. The days dragged on when you were all by yourself, and Awsten found himself already feeling incredibly grateful Geoff had turned up when he did. Both because he saved his life and because it meant they could try and survive together. It was a great relief to have another friend, a friend he’d missed so dearly and feared he’d never see again.

“Come on,” Geoff gestured at Awsten to follow him once again, pulling him out of his thoughts, “we’d better get inside, it’s gonna get cold and you never know if a stray zombie might wander through here!” he added, taking a hold of Awsten’s arm and tugging him gently along with him across the clearing, and into the woods on the other side. There, a huge tree with the gnarliest, thickest trunk stood tall, its twisting roots curled into the earth like wrinkled fingers. A rope dangled down from one of the branches, and Geoff jumped up to yank it. A rope ladder unfurled from God knows where in the tree, and Geoff began to climb up. He stopped, turning back to Awsten, who remained a little awestruck on the ground.
“Are you coming up or are you gonna let yourself die of exposure down there?” he teased. Awsten rolled his eyes and chuckled, gripping onto the ladder and beginning to climb up after Geoff. The rope ladder strained a little with the weight of both of them on it at the same time, but it stayed sturdy enough. When he got to the top, Geoff reached out a hand to pull him up through the trapdoor and into the treehouse that was his camp. 

It was surprisingly roomy, with crates of food that Geoff had looted from abandoned stores and more weapons and ammunition in some boxes in another corner. Solar-powered lanterns hung from the ceiling, casting a dim, yellow glow over everything. A little hammock hung from some branches on one side of the treehouse. Awsten assumed Geoff used it as a bed.
“You’ve done pretty well here, then.” He pointed out. Geoff smiled, a slightly smug expression crossing his features.
“I have, haven’t I.” he said, proudly, and Awsten giggled. Geoff walked across the treehouse to one of the far corners and pulled out some blankets and pillows, laying them out on the floor. “You can take the hammock if you’d like.” he suggested, kneeling down and smoothing out the blankets.
“No, it’s fine, I’ll sleep on the floor.” Awsten replied. Geoff turned to him, still on his knees. 

“ No, you’ll sleep in the hammock. It’s comfy.” he asserted. Awsten took one of the pillows from Geoff’s hands. 

“But this is your camp.” he protested. 

“And you are the guest, ” smirking, Geoff snatched the pillow back, “so you’ll take the hammock.” He insisted. Awsten sighed in mock defeat. 

“Can’t you let me be the gentleman?” he joked. Geoff laughed and rolled his eyes. 

“I actually prefer sleeping on the floor,” he admitted, “they say it’s good for your back.” 

“Yeah, right – as if. Besides, I’m afraid of heights, you know that! I’d rather not be any higher up than we already are!” Awsten confessed, quite dramatically, causing Geoff to laugh and roll his eyes again for the thousandth time that day. 

“Careful,” Awsten began, “if you keep doing that your eyes will fall out of their sockets.” He teased. Geoff whacked him over the head with another pillow after that comment. Awsten gasped. 

“How dare you!” he cried out, smacking him in the side with the pillow he was holding. 

That initiated a full-on pillow fight, with laughter and giggles echoing through the dark forest. Awsten and Geoff cast aside the argument of who would sleep in the hammock and decided they’d compromise and both sleep on the floor – there were enough blankets and cushions. And just for a moment, a beautiful, blissful moment, they completely forgot about the apocalypse.

Chapter Text

            Awsten awoke to the sound of light snoring. After overcoming his initial shock of ‘oh shit that’s not a zombie, that’s another human person’, he rolled over. Now face to face with a sleeping Geoff, Awsten huffed out a quiet laugh. ‘Cute. He snores.’ As if he didn’t know that already – they’d had plenty of sleepovers during high school. His stomach tightened at the memory of softer times, the nostalgia leaving a sour taste in his mouth. They’d probably never get that back.

            Right now though, that didn’t matter – it might be the end of the world, but at least Awsten was no longer facing it all alone. He still couldn’t fully comprehend the fact that Geoff, one of his closest friends, was not only alive, but right next to him, sleeping soundly. It didn’t feel quite real – then again, nothing really felt real anymore. Awsten spent most nights falling asleep either wishing he’d wake up the next day and find out this was all just some crazy nightmare, or wishing he wouldn’t wake up at all. It was honestly a miracle Geoff had found him yesterday – a glimmer of hope in what felt like an eternal darkness, the sort of thing that would make Awsten consider believing in God again.

            Geoff grumbled in his slumber, and Awsten bit his lip in order to stop himself from audibly giggling as Geoff muttered sleepily,

            “gimme five more minutes, I’m too comfy,”

A moment later, Geoff’s eyes blinked open, and he reached up with a clenched fist to rub away the sleep-gunk. He looked groggily towards Awsten, shooting him a drowsy, lopsided smile. There was a weird fluttering in Awsten’s chest that made him feel a bit sick, so he attempted to force it back down his throat with a thick swallow.

            “Morning,” he managed to murmur out in a somewhat steady voice. Geoff cleared his throat.

            “Mornin’,” he replied, followed by a huge yawn. Awsten couldn’t muffle his giggling this time.

            “You’re really not an early riser, are you?” he teased. Geoff chuckled and shook his head.

            “Nope. Never have been, never will be.” he said. He stretched out his aching limbs under the blanket draped over him. Awsten sat up to stretch his own body, clicking his back as he did so.

            “Oops. Ow,” he uttered, sniggering a little. Geoff sat up next to him and shot him a look of concern.

            “I did tell you to use the hammock, Aws,” he said, “this is why. You okay?” he asked, gesturing vaguely to Awsten’s back. Awsten nodded, trying to ignore the strange fluttery feeling that rose up again at Geoff’s use of his nickname. He’d used it for Awsten many times before, in fact Otto, Jawn and his sister Gracie used it too (anyone else besides maybe his parents would receive a death stare), so why was Geoff calling him ‘Aws ‘ now any different? It wasn’t really, was it?

            “Yeah, I’m good. Just not used to sleeping on the floor, that’s all. I’m fine.” Awsten responded quickly, realising he’d taken more than thirty seconds to answer Geoff’s question. Definitely not convinced, Geoff shrugged lightly, knowing Awsten most likely would be his usual stubborn self and tough it out.

            “Alright, if you’re sure…” he muttered. Awsten sighed fondly.

            “Seriously, I’m okay, Gee. My joints have never liked me,” he joked, making Geoff laugh. Awsten nudged Geoff’s shoulder lightly. “Thanks for checkin’ though. Appreciate it.” he added. Geoff smiled softly, gently elbowing Awsten’s side in return.

            “Of course,” his eyes widened then, and piped up with, “oh, hey – you hungry? I know I could definitely go for some breakfast.”

            Awsten brightened up at the thought of food, suddenly very aware of how famished he actually was. When you spend most of your time darting around, running away from zombies, you tend to get a little peckish. Awsten usually forgot to eat though – being chased by walking rotten flesh was pretty distracting.

            “Yeah, I could eat. What have you got?” Awsten asked. Geoff flung his blanket off his legs and crawled over to a stack of small wooden crates in one corner of the treehouse. He pulled one towards both him and Awsten, then pried open the lid with another bit of wood as a makeshift crowbar.

            “Ta da! Breakfast stash.” Geoff chuckled excitedly, even using jazz hands. Awsten rolled his eyes, but grinned anyway, pulling the crate even closer to him. He peered inside at the aforementioned ‘breakfast stash’, his eyes widening in delight.

            “Dude! Where the hell did you get this stuff? You are stocked up for real!” he gasped out. Geoff grinned smugly.

            “A magician never reveals his secrets.” he replied, tapping his nose. Awsten scoffed lightly.

            “Asshole,” he said, and Geoff burst out laughing. Awsten began rummaging through the canned foods and tightly wrapped breakfast bars for something that truly piqued his interest. He stopped, pulling out a tin and shoving it in front of Geoff, waving it accusingly.

            “What the fuck is this? Barbeque beans?!” he exclaimed. Geoff raised his hands in mock surrender.

            “Woah, hey,” he began, “in my defence, half the time I nabbed this shit I was paying more attention to the fact that I was being chased by zombies!” he protested. Awsten giggled, putting the atrocious looking barbeque beans back into the crate.

            “You in the mood for something in particular?” Awsten asked, picking up can after can of tinned food and deciding he was not its biggest fan.

            “Can’t choose, huh?” Geoff chuckled, shuffling closer, their knees bumping together. Awsten glanced up at Geoff with the biggest puppy-dog eyes he could possibly manage.

            “Too much decision for my adhd brain,” he said, “you choose, I’m sure I’ll like it.” he suggested. Geoff’s expression hardened as he scavenged through the crate to find something he figured they’d both like. Awsten traced the concentration lines across Geoff’s forehead with his eyes. It was weirdly comforting, and Awsten felt as though he could just reach right in and read Geoff’s mind. Wait, no – he didn’t want to do that. That was a total invasion of privacy and –

            “Oh! How about these?” Geoff cried out, yanking Awsten away from the cliff edge of his spiralling thoughts. He blinked expectantly at Geoff as he processed what was being offered to him.

            “Oh my god!” he gasped, “You have twinkies?!” he grabbed the box from Geoff’s hands gleefully, bouncing on his knees like an excited little kid. “I haven’t had twinkies in… in fuckin’ forever, man!” he said, staring in awe at the box of twinkies he held in his grasp like pure gold dust. Geoff reached back into the crate and pulled out two more boxes, holding them up to display them in all their glory to Awsten.

            “I’ve got them in multiple flavours,” he said, “take your pick!”

Awsten practically squealed in delight and ripped open one of the boxes. In his childish joy he forgot his own strength, tearing the cardboard apart so fast the packets of twinkies inside went flying – a few hit Geoff in the face. Awsten winced and giggled sheepishly, giving Geoff his puppy-eyes again.

“Whoops… sorry…” he said. Geoff tutted and shook his head, but couldn’t resist the urge to smile. It was an incredibly funny sight: a very guilty looking Awsten surrounded by shreds of cardboard box and unwrapped twinkies scattered all over the floor of the treehouse. Placing his hands on his hips in the perfect image of a disappointed parent, Geoff continued shaking his head.

“This is unacceptable behaviour Awsten. I can’t believe you,” he said, and Awsten bit his lip to stop himself from grinning like a madman, so he could join in with the joke.

“I know. It won’t happen again. Next time I’ll be more careful with the twinkie boxes, I promise.” he said, looking up at Geoff through his eyelashes, blinking rapidly. Geoff couldn’t hold it together anymore, and laughter exploded from his mouth like fireworks on New Year’s.

“Oh my God,” he stuttered between fits of giggling, “Jesus, Awsten…”

“I’m sorry, dude!” Awsten exclaimed, throwing his hands up in defeat, “I didn’t mean to throw twinkies everywhere! The box simply decided to fuckin’… I don’t know, detonate on me!” he cried, unable to stop laughing himself. Oh how he’d missed the way his ribs ached when he laughed this hard. He could barely breathe but his soul felt like it had been shrouded in golden sunlight.

It took them both another couple of minutes to fully calm down and readjust themselves. Awsten picked up two of the scattered twinkies, handing one to Geoff.

“Grubs up.” he sniggered. Geoff sighed fondly and began unwrapping the twinkie now in his hands. Awsten did the same, more slowly than the speed at which he had obliterated the box, before taking a huge bite out of it. He was absolutely famished.

It was like eating sand. Airy sand. Particles of twinkie sawdust tickled Awsten’s throat, and he simply opened his mouth to let it fall out.

“blegh,” he shuddered, “Ew. Gross. Geoff, what were we thinking? This is just air.” he complained. Geoff, in equal disgust, had also spat his twinkie out.

“What the hell were we on as kids, dude,” Geoff muttered, dropping the rest of his twinkie on the floor and kicking it away. Awsten shrugged.

“I dunno man, but twinkies aren’t shit. This is trash.” he said as a look of utter disappointment spread across his face.

“Honestly, what were we thinkin’? We were dumb kids…” Geoff added, glancing back at the crate of food but finding he didn’t really have the appetite for anything anymore. The twinkies had been such a Big Disappointment that they’d simply erased any hunger both Geoff and Awsten previously had.

“Oh my god, Aws,” Geoff began, a smile returning to his lips, “do you remember when you ate a whole box of these, threw up, and then I walked in on you getting an earful from your mom?” he asked, the smile morphing into a shit-eating grin. Awsten visibly cringed and buried his suddenly very hot face in his hands.

“Don’t remind me, man,” he mumbled, “that was fuckin’ embarrassing.”

Geoff sniggered, and patted Awsten’s shoulder in mocking sympathy.

            “Don’t sweat it, dude. Happens to the best of us.” he teased.

            “Shut the fuck up.” Awsten grumbled, his head still in his hands, hiding the mortification on his face. Continuing to chuckle to himself, Geoff rose to his feet, beginning to clear away the debris of the great twinkie explosion. Awsten lifted his head, watching Geoff intently. He knew he should probably help clear up the mess – it was his fault, after all – but his brain wouldn’t seem to let him move from his cross-legged position on the floor. Geoff either didn’t seem to mind, or hadn’t even thought about it at all.

Once he had scooped up and discarded the mess, Geoff flicked on his jacket in one swift movement. He picked up his pistol from its place on a small shelf, midway up the treehouse wall, and tucked it into a holster patterned with a little Texan flag. From his spot on the floor, Awsten tilted his head, inspecting the other gadgets in Geoff’s possession from a distance. Clipped to his waist was a torch, the aforementioned gun in its holster (along with another pistol and holster on the other side of Geoff’s hip), unused bullets in a little case, and a little bag Awsten assumed would have snacks or trinkets or (most likely) more ammunition.

“Damn,” Awsten uttered, causing Geoff to turn his head towards him, “someone’s prepared. You facing the apocalypse or something?” Awsten joked. Geoff rolled his eyes with an exasperated chuckle.

“You like the belt, huh?” he smirked. Awsten nodded.

“It’s sick – where’d you get it?” he asked. Geoff blanked. That was not a story he wanted to revisit.

“I actually don’t… I actually don’t remember,” he lied instead. Awsten raised a suspicious eyebrow. Geoff let out a heavy sigh. “Correction,” he continued, “I don’t want to remember.” he added, a solemn expression etching his features. Feeling a pang of sympathy deep in his chest, Awsten nodded in understanding, shooting Geoff a small smile. A topic for another day.

Awsten abruptly jumped to his feet, his practically thunderous landing startling Geoff out of his sombre daze, the melancholic look dissolving from his face in an instant. Awsten’s smile widened into a grin as he asked,

“So what’s on the agenda today, Wigington?” he folded his arms across his chest, leaning nonchalantly against the wall. His head had been centimetres away from smacking into one of the hanging solar lanterns as he moved, but that was totally unrelated. Geoff smiled, grateful for the subject change.

“There’s a department store in town. I’ve been meaning to check it out, and I need some more supplies now anyways – especially since there’s two of us,” Geoff explained, winking at Awsten after his last comment. “I figured we could go explore it together?” he suggested. Awsten smirked and fired two finger guns at Geoff.

“Aye aye, Captain.” he replied. He sauntered over to where his toothbat was resting against some shelves. Up close, he realised the shelf was full of little pots and jars of plants and flowers, an adorable scattering of pinks, blues and purples amidst the dull, earthy browns of the wood plank walls. Awsten’s gaze softened at the sight. He spun around to Geoff, pointing back at the little flower garden.

“Dude, that’s so fucking cute!” he cried out, bouncing on the balls of his feet. A beaming smile erupted across Geoff’s face, his nose scrunching up in his joy that lit up the room, far brighter than any of the hanging lanterns.

“Thanks! I felt the place needed a splash of colour – it was a bit sad in here otherwise…” he trailed off, wringing his hands and suddenly finding the knots in the floor quite interesting. Awsten wasn’t sure why Geoff appeared so embarrassed about the flowers. He had every right to find the positives in the small, mundane things. Spending every day chasing or being chased by zombies (mostly the second one) certainly got tiresome – every day felt the same, as though you were stuck in a time loop (an utterly hellish one), so it was no surprise Geoff had chosen to allow himself a little happiness in some cute wildflowers.

“Well, I think you’ve perfectly utilised your artistic license,” Awsten began, light-hearted and cheerful, before adding, “the flowers are simply the piece de resistance to this place,” in a very poor attempt at a French accent. Geoff almost choked as sniggering escaped his mouth.

“That was a really shitty French accent, dude.” he said, shaking his head. Awsten giggled.  

“Yeah, well, I took four years of Spanish, not French, and I can’t even speak Spanish –“ Awsten cut himself off mid-ramble, and held up an accusatory finger, waving it at Geoff. “Ignore everything I just said,” he began again, “that’s irrelevant. We have a department store to raid.” he declared, grabbing his rucksack and walking past a bewildered Geoff towards the treehouse trapdoor. He stopped, glancing back up at Geoff, who was now watching him with a smirk ghosting his lips.

“What?” he asked casually. Awsten huffed, rolling his eyes and grossly failing to hide his own smile.

“Shut up,” he muttered, “don’t say another word.”

“Whomst’ve.” Geoff sniggered. Awsten groaned, flipping Geoff off.

“Fuck you, I said no words.” he grumbled, lifting the trapdoor and unrolling the rope ladder, beginning to make his descent. Geoff only laughed as he grabbed his own rucksack and followed Awsten downwards.

Hyper vigilance switched on as soon as they began climbing down the ladder, the two boys cast their eyes and ears across their surroundings. They hoped for silence; silence meant no zombies, no zombies meant no certain doom, no certain doom meant another day survived. Awsten tried not to topple over the cliff of existentialism and plunge into the depths of the futility and pointlessness of it all. Instead he gripped his toothbat with white-knuckled hands, poised to fight if he had to as Geoff yanked the cord that rolled the rope ladder back up and out of reach. Geoff patted Awsten’s shoulder in thanks as he passed by and took the lead.

“Follow me,” he said, barely above a whisper.

Making their way back through the woodland in the early hours of the morning was slightly less scary than the darkening evening of the day before. In the light, Awsten could truly marvel at the wilderness surrounding them both. Bugs flitted about the place, their wings glittering in the rays of sunlight filtering in through layers of lime and emerald. Winding ivy spirals traversed up the rough barks of towering trees, a lattice of forest seaweed. A soft breeze dragged its fingers amongst the bushes and sent rippling shudders through the lifeblood of the woods. Everything moved, everything breathed, and that was fucking terrifying.

Awsten’s spine tingled, the hairs on the back of his neck twitching as though he could sense someone watching them. He hated that feeling. They were essentially being stalked like prey – arguably they were prey. The threat of a zombie attack followed them everywhere. Awsten’s darting eyes flickered up to meet the back of Geoff’s head. He appeared to be a lot calmer, although that could just be because Geoff was much better at disguising his fear. Awsten’s adhd meant he was super jumpy whether he was relaxed or not. His brain never switched off and was always buzzing with electricity.

A rustling beside him caused his heartrate to skyrocket momentarily, and Awsten stumbled into Geoff, almost tripping them both up.

“Shit, sorry-“ he stuttered, but Geoff hushed him with a gentle finger to his lips. Awsten shut up. The two of them stood frozen, the sounds of the thriving ecosystem echoing around them.

“Okay,” Geoff whispered, “I think we’re good. Probably just a bunny or something,” he assured, not quite convinced himself. “We’re almost there, by the way. At least, we’ll be out of the woods in a moment.” he added. Awsten breathed a sigh of relief. He wanted to leave this goddamn woodland now. Far too many possibilities with bad, bad endings. Endings he’d narrowly escaped before.

“I never asked you what department store we were going to,” Awsten remarked, trying to distract himself.

“You’ll like it,” was all Geoff replied with, as most of his attention was being directed to the respiring the forest around them, viewing everything as a possible threat to their survival.

“That doesn’t answer my question, Gee,” Awsten countered, sticking his tongue out at Geoff, who chuckled quietly in response.

“It’s an H.E.B.,” Geoff sighed, giving in. Awsten let out an excited gasp.

“My favourite,” he whispered. Geoff shook his head fondly.

“I know,” he said.

Geoff had been right – it wasn’t long before the two of them reached the edge of the woodland, the trees thinning out until there were barely any left at all, as everything opened up into the abandoned suburban outskirts. The sudden contrast from the thickness of the leaves above to the wide expanse of blue sky left Geoff and Awsten with an overwhelming sense of vulnerability, stripped to the bone. Crumbling skeletons of desolate buildings towered either side, rows of haunting brick shadows; eerie, unnerving shells of the town’s former self. The wind swept through the empty streets, scattering dusty long forgotten dreams across the rough ground. This was a home once.

With Geoff still leading the way, the two traipsed solemnly onwards, still vigilant and on the constant lookout for approaching zombies. Awsten’s fingers twitched with the urge to hold onto something that would ground him. A haze of loneliness hung low in the air, viscous like treacle. It was suffocating, and Awsten felt like throwing up. His fingertips brushed Geoff’s hand like the wings of a butterfly, soft and fleeting. The touch was barely noticeable, but Geoff felt it anyway. Without missing a beat, his fingers wrapped around Awsten’s hand and squeezed gently, as if to remind him ‘you’re not alone. we have each other’. Awsten didn’t even have to think about squeezing back – it was almost instinctual.

Geoff cleared his throat and the sound seemed to echo through the empty expanse of the streets.

“I think it’s just left here, and then we’re there,” he said.

“I hope we find orange juice. I love H-E-B orange juice,” Awsten announced, the thought leaving a little spring in his step. He swung Geoff’s arm with glee, encouraging him to join in. Geoff chuckled and indeed followed suit, swinging both arms in time with Awsten. They were practically skipping round the corner as they came face to face with the abandoned H.E.B. department store, with its shattered windows and doors clinging to its hinges, held up by nailed wooden beams. Parts of the walls were crumbling away into piles of rubble and concrete shards.

“Looks like this place might’ve been ransacked already,” Awsten commented, and Geoff nodded in agreement. He let go of Awsten’s hand, walking cautiously up to the building and peering in through one of the broken windows.

“I think we can grab some useful stuff,” he said, turning back to Awsten, “there’s still shit left inside from what I can see.” he added.

“You still wanna check it out?” asked Awsten.

“You wanna see if they have orange juice?” Geoff suggested, grinning. Awsten scoffed.

“You bet your ass I do,” he replied, and with a cheeky smirk, he sauntered past Geoff towards the entrance of the store.

Sunlight flung itself into the store as Awsten kicked at the wood supporting what was left of the doors, sending a resounding crash reverberating throughout the building. Geoff winced at the cacophonous noise.

“There was probably an easier way of doing that,” he muttered. Awsten shrugged.

“It wasn’t hard to do, actually. Besides, I’ve always wanted to kick out a door.” he grinned, making Geoff roll his eyes with a smile.

“Chaos follows you everywhere, huh?” he said, snickering and clambering into the store after Awsten.

“Chaos doesn’t follow me, I create it!” Awsten laughed. Geoff shook his head in fond exasperation.

They had to push a few empty shelves out of the way, but for the most part, a decent amount of products appeared to have remained in-tact. There was plenty for the two boys to rifle through for supplies – whether any of it was in date or not was an entirely different question. The cans and tins were probably fine, but anything stored in the fridges or freezers were sure to have gone bad. The place clearly had been cut off from fully working electricity for a while. Geoff found the light switch, flicking it on - most of the lights were hanging lopsided from the ceiling, and a couple flickered to life. Only the emergency lighting of the others still, worked, casting ghostly shafts of green light onto sections of the floor.

Amidst the endless tins of fucking beans (why were so many of them stupid pointless flavours?!), Awsten managed to find exactly what he was looking for. Jackpot – in-fucking-date orange juice.

“Hell yeah!” he exclaimed. From across the store, Geoff yelled,

“You found orange juice?”

“Yeah!” Awsten yelled back, grinning wildly. Hurried footsteps approached him, and Geoff rounded the corner. He glimpsed the several bottles of orange juice already clasped in Awsten’s arms like he was cradling a baby as he headed down the aisle towards him.

“Holy shit, you struck a gold mine there, Aws!” he cried, beaming. Awsten nodded vehemently, glee plastered all over his face.

“I really did,” he said, “I am going to drown myself in this shit.” he added, making Geoff cackle with laughter.

“Oh my God… don’t do that,” he said, shaking his head in mock disapproval.

“What if I want to?” Awsten countered teasingly as he began shoving the bottles of orange juice into his rucksack. Geoff laughed again.

“I’m not sure it’s the best idea, Aws –“ he began, but Awsten cut him off abruptly.

“Shhh! D’you hear that?” he whisper-yelled, reaching out to grab Geoff’s arm.

They both stayed quiet, listening. A low rumbling from one of the far corners of the building arose menacingly, morphing into the telltale gurgles of those wonderful walking rotting-flesh creatures. Geoff gripped Awsten tight by both shoulders and yanked him downwards behind a shelf stacked full of canned food. At least those dumbass barbeque beans are coming in handy now… Awsten thought to himself, then winced as his knees hit the floor painfully. Ow.

“What do we do? There’s no way we can stay here, they’ll find us – we’re sitting ducks!” Awsten asked, glancing up at Geoff expectantly. Geoff bit his lip, fear setting his thoughts in jelly, making his mind go completely blank.

“We distract and run,” he said through gritted teeth.

“That does not sound like much of a plan,” Awsten snarked.

“We don’t have time to think of a better one. No time to think, just do,” Geoff responded sharply, cringing as his panicked words sounded more like malice. “Sorry,” he added, glancing at Awsten, who was staring at him wide-eyed like a deer in headlights.

“No, it’s okay – you’re right,” he agreed, “distract and run. I can do that.” Awsten said, his gaze hardening into one of determination. The corners of his mouth curled upwards, and Geoff couldn’t help but smirk back.

“You go left, I go right?” he suggested. Awsten nodded, jumping up into a crouch, poised to run. Geoff grabbed his arm, and Awsten spun his head to look at him again.

“What?” he inquired.

“Take my second gun. Just in case,” Geoff said, reaching into one of his holsters on his belt and pulling out a silver pistol. This was not the gun Geoff had used to save his life yesterday, Awsten noticed, this one was a different colour. Probably a different model too, not that Awsten knew anything about guns whatsoever except shooty-shooty-bullet-hurty.  

“Woah, wait – second gun? What? Geoff, I – I don’t even know how to use one of these!” Awsten stuttered in steadily growing terror. Geoff pushed the pistol into Awsten’s trembling hands, closing his fists around the handle.

“Just flick off the safety and pull the trigger,” Geoff replied casually, as if using the damn thing was like blinking. Awsten gaped at him.

“I don’t think I know what either of those things mean.” he said, blinking rapidly and expression tightening into a confused frown.

“Then let’s just hope you don’t have to use it,” Geoff began, rising to his feet, “but if you do, for the love of God, use the sights – I’d rather you shot the zombies and not me.” He finished, a small grin ghosting his lips. Awsten let out a short chuckle.

“Yeah, you know what, I’d rather I didn’t shoot you either.” he declared. Geoff practically snorted.

“Good to know.” he muttered just loud enough for Awsten to hear. “See you on the outside.” he added, before dashing off to the right, leaping over a pile of disintegrating kitchen rolls in one fell swoop. Awsten had to stop himself from calling out ‘nice ass’ after him. Wait – why was he even thinking that in the first place? Nevermind. Run. He had to run.

Awsten tucked the silver pistol under his own belt, then sprung off into a sprint down an aisle to his left. Mission objective: escape store, don’t die. Much easier said than done, Awsten thought to himself as he dashed towards where he thought he remembered the front of the store to be. The gargling of the zombies intensified with every second that passed. An unmistakable stench of rotting human skin was beginning to fill the air too, and Awsten had to struggle not to gag. He turned another corner to head down a different aisle, skidding to a halt as soon as his brain caught up with his eyes and realised he was staring down one of those damned death-walkers.

“Fuck.” he uttered, freezing. The ugly thing began stumbling towards him, lopsided. One arm was barely hanging on in its shoulder socket, blackened ligaments straining. Half its face was falling off too, yellowing teeth visible through blue-grey tinged and flaky skin. Awsten shuddered, then spun on his heels in the opposite direction. He darted left, then right, then left again. He’d already lost track of where he was going – these stupid aisle felt like miles, a never-ending metal maze. They all looked the same. Each aisle seemed to have a zombie at the end of it, as if they were trying to cage him in. Maybe that’s exactly what they were doing; circling their prey, tiring them out, waiting for juuust the right time to pounce…

Panting, Awsten growled in frustration when he tried tearing down yet another aisle but coming face to face with another zombie. His hands reached behind him for his toothbat, swinging it threateningly.

“Come any closer and I will hit you,” he snarled, but the zombie seemed unfazed. It continued towards him in a faltering, swaying run. This one had clearly been in a fight before. A huge cleaver-like knife jutted out from its neck. It was almost comical, like one of those silly horror movies Awsten used to watch with Geoff, Otto and Jawn on a Friday night, at a sleepover with popcorn and chocolate.  His hands gripped his toothbat, knuckles whitening as he swung out again. Cleaver-zombie leapt at him, decaying hands reaching out, and Awsten jumped back. The greying fingers caked in dirt just barely grazed his jacket.

Awsten yelled what he felt was a pretty fearsome war-cry and with all his might drove his toothbat into the zombie’s side. There was a sickening crunch that made bile rise up in his throat as the bat collided with several ribs of the attacker. Awsten yanked toothbat back towards him, the imbedded teeth snagging on shattered bone. Inky blood splattered onto the floor, and the zombie howled out in pain. Horror shot through Awsten’s veins, and he scarpered into a run again. He vaguely noticed Geoff speeding past him down another aisle. Good. He was still alright.

Geoff’s adrenaline spiked like a rocket launch as he heard Awsten’s yell, and he raced in the general direction of the sound. As he sped down the aisles, he glimpsed a splash of red hair flitting past him. He breathed a sigh of relief – Awsten was still okay. Distracted, Geoff almost didn’t see the group of zombies crowding together at the end of the aisle he was rapidly approaching. He backed up, spinning around so fast he almost ran smack into a bunch of shelves. Wait – the shelves. The shelves. Struck by an utterly reckless but also kind of brilliant idea, Geoff began clambering upwards using a bunch of discarded baskets and upturned shopping carts. He scrambled to the top of the shelves, as high as he could go.

Now with an excellent view point of the whole store, Geoff crouched low, pulling his gun out. He counted at least nine zombies, five of which were heading towards Awsten from different directions. Awsten was darting around the rows and rows of aisles like a buzzing dragonfly zipping over a pond. Geoff smiled to himself. Awsten was always good at running, and Geoff envied his endurance. It wasn’t that he was unfit himself, it was just that Awsten was far more sporty than he could ever dream of.

Waiting for a clear shot, Geoff raised his pistol, supporting it with his other wrist. Squinting down the sights, he aimed at one of the zombies fumbling towards Awsten, arms grasping out for him. Geoff squeezed the trigger, and a loud BANG rang out as a bullet fired out of the barrel and in a flash was imbedded in the skull of the target. Awsten’s head whipped up, his eyes catching Geoff’s steady gaze.

“Sick vantage point!” he cried out, grinning. Geoff flashed him a wink and a smirk, and raised his gun once more.

“Duck!” he yelled. Awsten tilted his head.

“What?” he shouted back. Geoff rolled his eyes.

“Get DOWN, Aws!”

“Oh! Right!” Awsten cried in realisation, ducking down. Geoff fired three more shots, each hitting their mark. Awsten raised his head, recoiling at the glaring massacre of unmoving, lumps of rotting flesh, blood mixed with brain fluids leaking slowly across the floor like flowing lava. He swallowed thickly, then froze up when the sound of more gurgling reached his ears from behind him. He whirled around, toothbat in his hands once again, ready to confront the next round of zombies.

Geoff reloaded his pistol and fired another few shots – he’d now made six clean executions. Awsten was still cornered though, another persistent pair of zombies driving him back against the wall. Awsten swung out violently with his toothbat, thrusting it into the shoulder of one and sweeping the legs of the other. Bones crunched and cracked, rotting flesh squelching and dropping in sloppy piles to the floor. Awsten’s heart thudded in his ribcage, beating hard against his chest. His breath tumbled out from his lungs in cascading waves.

He jabbed out at his attackers again, ramming his bat right into the sternum of the closest assailant. Awsten audibly gagged at how easily his toothbat slid straight through, the decaying sack of flesh in front of him caving in and collapsing onto its knees. Hollow, grey eyes stared up at him through matted hair, and for a moment Awsten was struck with the horrid thought of this was a person once, someone with friends and family… He had to squeeze his eyes shut and bite his tongue as he tugged toothbat back out. The zombie crumpled to the floor.  

“Oh God, oh fuck, oh shit,” Awsten stuttered, hands shaking. The other zombie blundered forwards, observing Awsten’s vulnerable and distracted state. Geoff had also noticed, however, and with much faster reactions, fired another bullet. It went straight through the head of the zombie, the shockwave of energy propelling it sideways too. Skull collided with concrete floor, scattering brittle bone fragments everywhere. Awsten exhaled shakily, adrenaline spike fading fast. His toothbat clattered to the floor as his hands failed him, and he leaned backwards against the wall behind him to regain his strength. He was not going to vomit. Not in front of Geoff.

Geoff was about to call out to Awsten to check he’d been unhurt, but when counting the rotting bodies, he came upon eight. He swore he counted nine earlier. Awsten slowly raised his head up to meet Geoff’s eyes, but his face blanched.

“Gee, look out!” he hollered, pointing frantically. Geoff spun on his heels, turning right as a zombie shoved the shelves he was standing on. Hard. Geoff cried out as he tumbled to the ground, several shelves colliding with each other like dominoes, trapping him underneath. His pistol flung from his hands, Geoff scrabbled towards it, haphazardly dragging himself out from under the caved-in shelves. The growling and gargling of the last remaining zombie filled his ears like the roaring ocean, loud and terrifying.

Rough, calloused, leathery fingers wrapped themselves around Geoff’s ankle. Rolling over, Geoff kicked out as hard as he could. His steel-toed boot struck the thigh of his attacker, ripping through the blue-grey flesh and tearing out a huge chunk of leg. The zombie shrieked and clawed out at Geoff, who scrambled back. He was now face to face with it, stale breath hanging in the air in front of him. His discarded pistol was inches away, but Geoff couldn’t bring himself to reach for it. He stared up at the once human face, unable to pull his gaze away.

Geoff had certainly heard of the existence of half-conscious zombies, but he’d never actually encountered one, until now. Shards of glass were jammed into one side of its face, like it had been hurled through a window. The skin had moulded itself around the fragments, forming crystals and spikes that glinted menacingly in the flickering glow of the few working lights of the store. One eye was the usual vacant grey of most zombies, but the other, on the same side of the glass shards, was bloodshot and blackened, inky veins extending outwards from it.

“Please…” it gargled, full of sorrow. Geoff’s heart clenched at the sound. “Please, help me…” it repeated in its strangled language. Ice crept its way up Geoff’s spine.

“I don’t… I can’t…” he stuttered. His back was pressed up against the wall behind him. He had nowhere to go. Shit, shit, shit…

Awsten watched on in horror as Geoff was cornered by the half-conscious zombie. Its choked pleading rattled through his brain and stole the breath from his lungs. Why wasn’t Geoff picking up his gun? Oh, OH – GUN. Awsten was suddenly very aware of the heavy weight of Geoff’s second pistol tucked in his belt. He pulled it out, holding it gently with shaky hands. What was it that Geoff said? “Just flick off the safety and pull the trigger,”, right?

Awsten fumbled around with the pistol, frantically trying to figure out what the hell was the safety switch. It was pretty obvious what the trigger was, that much he did know. He glanced over at Geoff again. Shit – that zombie was getting far too close. Awsten only had one shot (ha, funny) at this. Almost ninety percent certain he’d figured out what the safety was, Awsten raised the gun, aiming at the zombie inches from Geoff’s face, hunger and yearning deep in its expression. Awsten sucked in a breath.

He squeezed down on the trigger.

A shot. Ringing in his ears, static in his head.

Then silence.

The zombie crumpled to the floor, lifeless. Geoff choked out a quiet gasp of relief, and he finally found himself able to pick up his gun and pull himself to his feet, albeit quite unsteadily. That was way too fucking close. He turned to Awsten, who was staring straight ahead, gun still poised, and trembling. Geoff edged towards him. With gentle hands he reached out and placed them over Awsten’s, stroking them with his thumbs.

“Hey,” he whispered, “I can take this back now.” Geoff tugged lightly at the gun, and Awsten, still staring vacantly, loosened his grip, allowing Geoff to take the pistol from him and return it to its holster. Awsten covered his mouth with a quivering hand.

“Oh God,” he choked out, “I… Geoff… I killed them,” he whispered hoarsely. Tears streamed down his face, leaving streaks through the blood and grime on his cheeks. Geoff gazed softly at him.

“You did what you had to do – it was us or them,” he said, attempting to reassure and justify, “and you saved my life. Guess that makes us even now, huh?” he joked with a strained laugh. Awsten looked up at Geoff, tears still waterfalling from his eyes.

“I killed them. I – they had a life, Geoff, family, they – oh my God, I’m gonna throw up –“ he faltered, a few sobs tumbling out of his mouth as he spoke.

“You did them a favour, Awsten. They were suffering. You stopped it.” Geoff comforted, gently rubbing Awsten’s shoulders.

“I still killed them.” Awsten uttered, staring blankly at the floor.

“You saved my life.” Geoff repeated, a little firmer. He cupped Awsten’s teary face in his hands. “Thank you.” he added.

“I… I did save your life, didn’t I…” Awsten said, a small smile beginning to ghost his lips. Geoff nodded, gazing tenderly at him.

“You did.”

Awsten let out a half-strangled laugh, wiping away a few of his tears. He sniffed.

“I feel like a monster,” he confessed quietly, “I’m not, am I?” he asked.

Geoff’s heart shattered into a million pieces, and he pulled Awsten into a tight hug. He nuzzled his face into his shoulder. Awsten reciprocated instantly, wrapping his arms around Geoff’s shoulders, gripping onto him like a lifeline.

“You’re not a monster,” Geoff whispered, “not to me.”

Chapter Text

…”Bet you can’t catch me!” Gracie called out to her older brother, who laughed and raced after her. 

“Bet I can! I’m much faster than you!” Awsten cried, his hands ghosting Gracie’s shoulders. The two dashed around the garden in circles, playing a game of Tag. It was the first time they’d both been outside since they had gotten sick. Gracie couldn’t recall much from either hers or Awsten's stay in hospital, but that didn't matter. She and her brother were close now, actually getting along, smiling and laughing and running and running and…

Gracie raced down the street, panting hard, hair whipping out behind her. Lungs and legs aching, Gracie stumbled towards the woodland. A risky choice, but she figured she could lose them in there, using the trees and overgrown foliage as cover. This group of death-walkers was more adapted to the suburban areas, Gracie had noticed when she’d first heard the tell-tale growling and gargling signalling their approach. A few were carrying household items as weapons – ‘ greedy bastards, y’all already got the goddamn virus as a weapon! ’ Gracie had thought aloud to herself, scoffing. 

Mustering all her endurance from her high-school days of running track and playing soccer, Gracie sped up, trying to gain even more distance from her advancing attackers. She took a sharp right, careering into the woodland. She almost tripped on dead branches discarded by the towering trees. ‘Pay attention dumbass. You trip, you die, ‘cause those zombies will get ya… ’ she berated herself. The strangled calls of the chasing zombies didn’t seem to be growing any quieter, and Gracie cursed under her breath. 

“Stupid fuckers don’t give up easy,” she grumbled, gritting her teeth. Her legs were really aching now, the adrenaline rush seeping into her feet and down into the soil and dirt, away from her body. Which would also be separated from her damn soul in a second if those stupid ugly-ass rotting creatures didn’t leave her the fuck alone. She glanced over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of the group still following her, brandishing their weapons. Weapons. She needed a weapon. Where the hell was she going to get one mid-sprint? Her instinct was to call out for her brother, but remembered with a painful wince she had no idea where he was – or if he was even alive – and hadn’t for months. 

Struggling to catch her breath now, Gracie knew she was running out of options, if she really had any in the first place. 

“Where’s your irritating protective older brother when you need him, huh,” she muttered, practically gulping down air. Oh she was screwed. 

“Dear whatever fucked up deity that let this happen, I hate you.” She growled, glaring up at the sky. Said deity decided to instantly pay her back for the insult by conveniently placing a low-hanging branch right in front of her. It smacked her in the face, tangling itself in her hair with its witchy fingers and yanked hard. 

“SHIT! OW!” she yelled, falling flat onto her back. Any air left in her lungs was knocked out, leaving her with a sickly winded feeling. An angry, thunderous sky peeked in through the dull green leaf canopy, sneering at her with threats of an oncoming storm. Gracie coughed, and scrambled to her feet as fast as she could. Sighing at the sad clumps of her blonde-ish (she swore the stress of the apocalypse was making it go darker) hair snagged on the twisted branch, Gracie was about to dash off again, but a low rumbling stopped her in her tracks. The once bustling forest was silent now. That was not a good sign, Gracie panicked, and the hairs on the back of her neck shot up as ice trickled down her spine. The rumbling morphed into moaning, and then a full on groan of:

“ Help… you have to help me… ” echoed around the woodland void. Gracie’s heart dropped like a stone in deep water. Her entire body stiffened, and she turned ever so slowly around, coming face to face with the owner of the voice. She jumped back almost instantly with a yell of “CHRIST ALIVE!”, staggering backwards in pure terror. The death-creature before her was barely recognisable from its former self – vines knotted and entangled themselves tightly around each limb, even growing out of one of its eyes, interwoven with a plethora of deep brown mushrooms embedded into greying, almost translucent skin. A gnarly, twisted branch jutted out from deep within the chest cavity of the decaying zombie. Dried-out black blood encrusted most of the branch, giving it a charcoal look. 

Gracie shuddered, unable to move any more than that as she caught the desperate gaze of the one working eye, hollow, vacant, sad. 

“ Help…” it groaned again, “ Please… please…” it begged. Gracie raised a shaky hand to cover her mouth. A few stray tears tumbled down her cheeks. 

“Oh, God, I-“ she stammered, stumbling back a few more steps and tripping, ending up sprawled on the floor once again. The tree-zombie reached out a clawed, skeletal hand towards her, fingers twitching erratically. 

“ Please help me…” it gargled. Gracie full-on sobbed this time. 

“I can’t,” she choked out, “I can’t, I’m so sorry…” 

In her frantic scrabbling to get away from the poor, horrid creature, Gracie had totally forgotten about trying to escape the several other death-walkers after her. They had certainly gained upon her now, and their growls and gargles could be heard ricocheting between the trees. Oh, she was royally screwed. Gracie fumbled to her feet, knees trembling, hands still shaking. She had nothing to defend herself with – that was why she had run away from the zombies in the first place without a fight, because she didn’t have a weapon. She’d lost her knife somewhere in the last town she had been raiding for supplies. 

Gracie glanced around her and discovered she was completely surrounded. The small group of zombies from earlier was now a mass horde, swarming in on their pray. Gracie knew her chances of survival were dwindling into single digits, teetering on the edge of decimal point percentages. She did not want to go down like this, but she sure as hell was gonna put up a good fist fight, one her brother would certainly be proud of. 

“Alright motherfuckers,” she cried out, “come and get me!” she taunted. A nervous grin spread across her lips. She was definitely outnumbered – there were at least twenty. Most likely more. Gracie was sure this was it, this was where she bit the dust, knowing the zombies would overwhelm her and tear her apart like vultures scurrying over a dead carcass within seconds . Oh this was a bad idea, a VERY bad idea… 

Gracie was backed into a corner of the woodland; swarm of death walkers approaching her from all angles, and right behind her was that tragic half-conscious zombie begging to be put out of its misery. Gracie was going to be sick. She was going to throw up and then she was going to die. How lovely. She raised her hands to protect her face, fists clenched, knuckles white. She knew it was a futile gesture, but she’d always been stubborn, much like her brother. Gracie Knight wanted to be as brave as her last name suggested, but right now she couldn’t lie – she was fucking terrified. She didn’t want to die. Not here, not now, not when she hadn’t found Awsten yet, not yet not yet not-

The closest zombie lashed out with a rotting, clawed hand, swiping to gouge a chunk out of Gracie, who jumped back just in time and swung her foot with as much force as she could manage. She kicked her assailant right in the groin, the heel of her boot burying itself deep in the decaying flesh of its thigh with a sickening squelch. Gracie winced, yanking her foot out. 

“Ew, gross, fuck-“ she stammered, stumbling backwards. Shit, she couldn’t go backwards, she’d run into tree-zombie again. With a panicked look in her eyes, Gracie realised she was out of options. Oh God, she really was going to die here. She did the only thing her brain could manage to muster up the energy for. She ducked, she covered, and she rolled into a ball. She bit her lip, waiting in bated breath for the zombies to have their fun and rip her to shreds. 

But nothing happened. No vicious scratching, biting, or ripping apart of any kind was carried out. Gracie dared to move her fingers away from her eyes, taking a peek. Through the gaps between her fingers she glimpsed a dark-clothed figure before her, shielding her from attack with some very professional-looking martial arts. It was highly impressive, and Gracie felt a pang of jealousy (she wished she could pull those moves off) before she let relief wash over her in waves – this figure did save her life after all. Gracie shakily got to her feet, brushing herself off. Crusty brown leaves drifted from her clothing onto the floor to join the rotting foliage of the forest. 

With a graceful and deft high kick, Gracie’s saviour sent another zombie careering into a few others, clearing enough space around them for an escape. The dark figure turned towards Gracie, their silvery blonde hair flowing out from under a black beanie hat. The sunlight glittering off the strands gave them an angelic aura and for a second Gracie thought she really had died, and the angel of death was here to transport her to heaven. She pinched herself to double check and winced. Yep, still alive. 

There was something familiar about the blonde angel, Gracie surmised. She couldn’t quite place it, but she’d definitely seen that face before. It was calm, welcoming, soft. The blonde angel stepped towards her with an outstretched hand. 

“Come,” they said, their sing-song voice filling the air with gold dust, “I’ll keep you safe.” Squinting suspiciously at them, Gracie took a hesitant step forwards, her hand twitching nervously as she reached out to grab her saviour’s, then stopped mid-way. 

“Why should I trust you?” she asked, cautious. Blonde Angel lowered their hand. 

“Aside from the fact that I just saved your life, would you rather blindly trust a random stranger offering you a way out, or brutal violent death-by-zombie?” they snarked, but not harshly – a soft grin ghosted their lips. Gracie smirked. 

“You know what,” she said, “you have an excellent point. Blindly trust a stranger it is.” 

“Alright then. Follow me,” the blonde angel giggled, beckoning Gracie forwards with a wave of the arm. The scattered zombies around them were beginning to come to and recover from their altercations, growling and grumbling, fury lacing every vibration and sound tumbling from their decaying mouths. Gracie swallowed thickly, then sped after her saviour, and they both scarpered off into the woodland. Several questions swirled around Gracie’s head like a whirlwind cyclone, but she intelligently decided to save her breath and run alongside her angel saviour. She’d ask her questions later. 

The trees began to thin out as the two reached the edge of the forest, the gargling of the death creatures far behind them. Through the scattering of the few trees left in front of them, Gracie saw the outline of what appeared to be some sort of military-grade helicopter. Cool ! She thought, grinning excitedly to herself, I get to ride in a chopper?!  

“Are they for us?” she panted out, pointing at the jeeps. Blonde Angel nodded curtly. 

“Yes. Come on, we gotta get out of here as soon as,” they replied. Gracie followed them up to the helicopter, where a tall, dark-haired man donning a pair of the coolest black shades beckoned them on board. He patted the shoulder of Blonde Angel as they boarded. 

“Nice work, Grace. You doing okay?” he asked, before sending a quick hand signal to the pilot. The blades of the helicopter sputtered then blurred into life, whirring around. Gracie felt excitement fizz up like soda in her bloodstream – she’d always wanted to ride in a helicopter. She then did a mental double take. Sunglasses man had called her saviour ‘Grace’. Grace . Gracie’s eyes widened like dinnerplates when the realisation hit her. That’s why I recognised you!  

“Hey!” she cried out. “I knew I’d seen your face before! You’re Grace! Otto’s girlfriend!” she exclaimed all in a hurry. The helicopter began to rise up off the ground, and Gracie swayed a little on her feet. Grace stared back at her with an odd look of confusion on her face.

“How’d you know –” she began, but Gracie cut her off again in her enthusiasm.

“It’s me, Gracie! Gracie Knight! Awsten’s sister!” she cried. A millisecond passed, then a beaming smile grew upon Grace’s lips. 

“Oh!” she squealed out joyfully, “Oh, Gracie! Hi! Oh my God, Oh my God, you’re okay!” she gasped, running towards Gracie and bundling her into a tight hug. Gracie buried her head into the older girl’s shoulders. 

“My savin’ Grace,” she whispered, “thank you.” she added, squeezing Grace a little more in the hug. Grace giggled, then pulled away, resting a hand on Gracie’s cheek, her touch gentle even with the thick, padded gloves she was wearing. 

“I’m so glad we found you,” she began, “and I’m sorry it took me a while to recognise you! All I knew this morning when we left for this mission was that I was rescuing a survivor. I wasn’t told who it was – I’m so very glad it was you.” she said, melodic and calming. Gracie had always viewed Grace as an older sister. Every time Grace came over to pick up Otto from hanging out with Awsten and all their other friends, she’d say hi to Gracie and talk to her for a bit. They loved their girl talk. 

Sunglasses man interrupted their little reunion by gently asking the girls to buckle up as the helicopter properly took flight. He sat down himself beside Grace, then glanced over at Gracie, holding out a hand for her to shake. 

“Nice to meet you, Gracie. I’m Sergeant Major Autrey,” he introduced, “but please, feel free to just call me Zakk.” he added, smiling warmly. Gracie was already feeling very safe and welcomed in his presence, and shook his hand gratefully. The several whirlwind questions from earlier had increased tenfold – it was now a full-on hurricane tornado – but she had an odd, hopeful feeling bubbling in her stomach that told her all those questions were about to be answered. 

“Nice to meet you too, Zakk.” she replied with a grin. His smile morphed into a grin too, then he sat back against the wall (could you call it a wall? Shell maybe? Gracie had no clue) of the helicopter. Gracie leaned over to Grace. 

“Does he ever take his sunglasses off?” she whispered. Grace snorted with laughter. 

“Not that I’ve seen,” she giggled, “rumour has it they’re just permanently stuck to his face.” she joked, covering her mouth to dampen the sound of her chuckling, so Zakk wouldn’t hear. Gracie bit down hard on her lips to stop herself from laughing too. 

The helicopter flight wasn’t too long. They whizzed over barren landscape, abandoned, crumbling cities and towns, thick, luscious woodland – greens and browns blurred together into a scenery soup. Gracie had yet to have been given any more information on the situation, and had no idea where the group were headed, but for now she chose to focus on the fact that she was not currently rotting away in the forest, alone, gravely injured and dying from a zombie attack. She was very much alive , and for that she was eternally grateful. She also got to ride in a helicopter, so that was a dream ticked off her bucket list. Huge bonus. 

The helicopter soon began to slow down, and Gracie figured that meant they were approaching their destination. She peered out of the tiny window beside her. It looked like they were about to go hurtling violently into a cliff, but seconds before impact, the rockface opened up, revealing the entrance to what Gracie then assumed was the base of operations for Zakk and Grace. She turned to them both, blue eyes wide and full of wonder. 

“Is this your base?” she exclaimed, awestruck. Grace and Zakk nodded. Gracie gaped at them. “Woah,” she breathed, “that’s so fucking cool – are you guys like, some kind of badass government operatives or something?” she asked. The helicopter touched ground just as Zakk and Grace shared an unreadable glance between them. Gracie raised an eyebrow in confusion. 

“We don’t work for the government.” Grace said flatly, unbuckling herself from her seat as the helicopter doors opened. Gracie did the same. 

“Let’s just say we’re not the biggest fans of the government.” Zakk added, rising to his feet and leading the girls out of the helicopter and properly into the underground base. 

“The government isn’t particularly fond of us, either.” a different voice called out. Gracie spun round on her feet so fast she almost slipped up on the smooth flooring. She now faced a tightly poised, brown haired man, his gun holsters over his shoulders covered in badges and symbols. Grace and Zakk straightened up and saluted as the man entered, the rustling of his khaki green combat trousers echoing into the room, accompanied by the clumping of thick, steel-capped boots. Definitely an army guy, Gracie thought quietly to herself. 

“Good to see you made it in one piece, Gracie Knight. We’ve been expecting you.” the man said, making Gracie’s thoughts slam the breaks and crash headfirst into a brick wall. 

“That’s not creepy at all,” she muttered, just loud enough for him to hear. 

“I can imagine this is probably a lot to take in. I promise we are here to protect you, not hurt you.” the man assured, taking a slow, careful step towards her. Instinctively Gracie took a step back. A flash of something akin to hurt dazzled in the man’s eyes, but he blinked, and it was gone. He smiled softly at Gracie, his tough, army-guy demeanour melting away in an instant. 

“You’re a survivor, Gracie. It’s our duty to take care of you.” he said, calm and quiet. 

“And, uh… who are you guys?” Gracie asked, “No one has actually explained anything to me. I’m hella confused right now.” she added, huffing out an indignant sigh. 

“I’m Command Sergeant-Major General Riddle, but that’s a ridiculous mouthful to say, so just Travis is completely fine.” the man – Travis – answered. He walked over to stand between Grace and Zakk, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. 

“We are part of the Riddler-Rogues.” he stated. 

“Also known as the Riddlers, for short.” Grace added with a proud smile. Gracie couldn’t help but grin too. 

“So that’s why you hate the government? Because you’re rogue survivors?” Gracie asked. Travis nodded, walking back towards Gracie again. She didn’t step back this time. 

“Correct. And because they’re corrupt officials who caused the apocalypse, which is a surprise to pretty much nobody.” Travis said, cheeky sarcasm dripping from his words. Gracie smirked. Okay, she was beginning to like this guy. 

“Yeah, well, I think that much was obvious to like, everyone.” Gracie added, with equal sass. 

“Exactly. And now, the government is targeting survivors like you –” Travis started, before Gracie cut him off in a panic. 

“Woah, woah, wait – why is the government after me specifically?” she questioned. 

“We don’t know yet.” Travis said shortly. Grace shot him a glare behind his back, too quickly for Gracie to notice. She then looked up at Zakk. 

“Why is he lying to her?” she whispered. Zakk leaned down to reply.

“We have to get her to trust us first. She won’t believe us if we tell her the truth now. She’s not ready.” he clarified quietly. Grace huffed, but she knew Zakk was right. Neither he nor Travis had told her the truth for the first few weeks she had been with them. In the long run, that was better. 

“So what happens now?” Gracie asked. Travis smiled. 

“You join us,” he said. Gracie glanced up at him, a steadfast grin spreading across her lips. 

“I’m listening,” she said, “go on.” 

“You join our team, we train you up, you lead us to more survivors – more survivors like you and your brother.” Travis explained. Gracie eyed him sceptically.  

“My brother? I don’t even know where he is, let alone if he’s even alive. ” she countered. Travis smirked, the promise of adventure plastered across his face, sparking excitement inside Gracie’s chest. The determination in his voice as he next spoke was unwavering. 

“Would you like to find out?”

Chapter Text

There was blood on Awsten’s hands. On his hands, his clothes, his shoes, the floor – before him lay a macabre painting of crimson splatters, cast across several contorted bodies of entangled limbs, bearing faces he knew and loved. It was a mess. Haunting voices echoed around him, their eerie chants filling his ears with taunting; 

“Monster,” they said, “Killer, Murderer, monster, monster, monster –” 

“ Stop,” he heard himself rasp out. His hands shook in front of him, the slick blood dripping from his fingertips and trickling into the cracks of the floor where it fell. A hand grabbed onto his leg, shining and glistening with dark red. He looks down. It’s Jawn. 

“How could you…” Jawn’s voice was scratchy and pained. Another hand weakly gripped his other leg. This one belonged to Otto. Vermillion pooled beneath him. 

“We trusted you…” he whispered, eyes hollow and full of tears. Awsten choked on sobs. His breath snagged in his throat and his chest felt as though it were caving in on itself. 

“I’m sorry, oh God I’m sorry,” Awsten croaked out. His knees were buckling. He was not going to be able to stand much longer. 

“You abandoned us,” a strained voice called out from behind him. Awsten spun around, coming face to face with the blood-soaked and shivering form of his younger sister. “You abandoned me…” she murmured, crystalline tears cascading down her cheeks, leaving streaks of salt-water through splatters of red. 

“No, no – Gracie, Gracie please, ” Awsten begged, dropping to his knees beside her and cradling her to his chest. She grew limp, a heavy weight in his arms, a crushing one on his shoulders. He couldn’t stop crying. 

“Awsten,” a fourth voice called out. Ice ran through Awsten’s veins. He knew that voice. But he also didn’t. “Awsten,” it called again, “This is who you are. You are a killer. You are a weapon.” it said, stern and rough. Awsten squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shove the voices out of his head. 

“I’m not,” he whispered, “I’m not. You’re lying.” 

“I am not a liar. I control you. You. Are. A. Killer.” The disembodied voice was sharp and harsh. It sent knives down Awsten’s spine. He knew that voice. But he also didn’t. 

“No,” he sobbed, his grip on Gracie tightening. “no, I’m not. Stop. Shut up, shut up, shut UP!” he was yelling now. His desperate voice bounced off the walls and rattled in his skull. 

“A killer.” The indecipherable voice repeated, its breath ghosting the back of Awsten’s neck. 

“No,” Awsten stuttered. 

“A weapon.” 

“No.” 

“A monster…”  

“NO!” 

Awsten shook his head fervently. He continued to mutter his repeated chant of pleading “No,”. His hands drifted upwards to cup his ears to block out the haunting disembodied voice he knew but also didn’t. God, he was going to slam his head against the wall until his skull split open and his brains spilled out if this guy did not shut the FUCK up. 

“Aws…” a different voice floated into Awsten’s ears. This one he could give a name to. 

“Geoff,” he said, barely above a whisper, “Geoff…” Awsten began to crawl towards Geoff’s voice. It seemed to waft over from a dark lump at the end of the shadowy corridor, illuminated periodically by flickering amber lights. 

“Awsten…” Geoff called out again, louder. “I’m here…” he muttered. The lump at the end of the corridor twitched, then rolled over, dragging itself towards Awsten. Awsten couldn’t stop the devastated cry that erupted from his lips – it was Geoff. 

“Oh God, oh fuck, Geoff, no, no- ” Awsten scrambled the rest of the way over, bundling Geoff into his arms. A new layer of thick blood slickened his hands and seeped into his clothing. Geoff’s blood. A trembling hand curled around Awsten’s wrist. 

“Awsten… it’s not your fault,” Geoff murmured, his other hand cupping Awsten’s face, leaving a red smear on his cheek. “It’s not your fault.” Geoff repeated. Awsten couldn’t talk anymore. His voice was shot, his eyes burned, the static void in his chest overwhelmingly painful. 

“Wake up.” Geoff’s voice came out more steady that time. Awsten blinked. “Wake up.” Geoff said again, except the sound didn’t match the movement of his lips. The amber lights flickered off, blanketing the corridor in darkness. The weight of Geoff disappeared from his arms. 

“Geoff!” Awsten cried out, his hands reaching into the dark and grabbing onto air. 

“I’m here,” Geoff replied, his voice echoey. 

“But you’re not…”

“ Awsten.” 

Awsten was full-on crying now, choked sobs ripping his throat to shreds. 

“Awsten…” Geoff’s voice had stopped reverberating with the haunting echoes in his head. It was louder, clearer, but Awsten still couldn't see anything. Inky blackness cloaked his entire vision. His blood rushed in his ears, his heart thudding painfully against his ribcage. He was shaking, no, being shaken – 

“Awsten!” Geoff yelled, white-knuckled hands gripping tightly onto Awsten’s shoulders. Awsten spluttered awake, his breathing worryingly erratic. His terrified eyes fell upon Geoff, but his gaze tore right through him as if he were completely transparent. Geoff still held Awsten by the shoulders, his grip loosening into a more gentle and supportive one. Awsten was trembling and sobbing – the sight pierced Geoff’s heart with a serrated knife. 

“Geoff,” he croaked, hands grabbing at Geoff’s jacket and tugging at the fabric, desperate to regain a grip on reality. 

“Hey, hey – it’s okay, you’re okay. I’ve got you,” Geoff assured, “it was just a nightmare. It wasn’t real, it wasn’t real.” He pulled Awsten into a tight hug against his chest, rubbing circles into his back. With a death-grip still on Geoff’s jacket, Awsten melted into the embrace, burying his head in Geoff’s shoulder, dampening the fabric there almost instantly with his tears. If Geoff could absorb all Awsten’s pain, he would without a second thought. Without a first thought, actually. 

“I’m sorry,” Awsten sniffed, “I’m getting snot all over your jacket,” he said, leaning away to gaze up at Geoff with red-rimmed eyes. Geoff laughed. 

“Oh I don’t give a shit about that,” Geoff began, “it’s covered in zombie gunk – a little snot never hurt anyone.” He joked. Awsten let a strained giggle tumble out of his mouth, nuzzling his head against Geoff’s shoulder once more. 

“That was fucking awful,” he muttered. Geoff squeezed him gently. 

“The nightmare?” he asked. Awsten nodded against him, wayward strands of faded red hair tickling Geoff’s chin. “Wanna talk about it?” Geoff encouraged. Awsten hummed in thought. The sound sent shivering vibrations rippling through Geoff’s body, tracing stars up his spine. He did not want to talk about that . At least not aloud. To Awsten. Or to anyone, ever. 

“It felt so real, Gee. Like, it was more like a memory than a dream,” Awsten started, lifting his head and resting his cheek on Geoff’s chest so he wasn’t talking into clothes. “There was this weird, disembodied voice chanting stuff at me, and there- oh God, there was so much…” he faltered, swallowing thickly as he tried to get his jumbled thoughts out into coherent sentences, “there was so much blood. Everywhere. All over my hands, Geoff, I – ” Awsten trailed off. He bit his trembling lip to stop more tears spilling down his cheeks. 

If Geoff could pull Awsten any closer to him, he would have. He gave Awsten’s shoulders another reassuring squeeze, before going back to absent-minded drawing of spirals onto his back with his fingertips. Awsten exhaled quiet and content against him – the gesture was making all the static noise inside his skull grow quiet. Geoff had always been good at that, making his mind go blank, instead filling his grey, monochrome skies with golden sunlight. Awsten hoped he did the same for Geoff. He’d give Geoff all the stars in the sky if he could. 

“The voice, Geoff,” he continued, his more relaxed state allowing him to open up, despite it still making him feel slightly sick to be so vulnerable. Emotions were complicated. And messy. Ugh. “it sounded so familiar, like – like I’d heard it before, but where I don’t know.” Awsten rambled. Geoff sighed in thought, shuffling a little to rearrange his seating position – his legs were beginning to get pins and needles, so he wanted to relieve them of their troubles. 

“D’you remember what it said? The voice?” he asked, letting Awsten wriggle around next to him so he was in a more comfortable position too. Geoff now had his back pressed against the wooden planked wall of the treehouse, Awsten curled up beside him, his head resting on Geoff’s shoulder. 

“It kept telling me that this was who I was, that I was a weapon or something, I think,” Awsten recounted, “it kept saying I was a killer. A monster.” Awsten let out a deep sigh, lamenting over his thoughts. 

“You’re not any of those things,” Geoff said, “not even close.” 

“But what if I am, Geoff?” Awsten asked, twisting to look up at him, anxious spiralling thoughts shadowing his eyes. Geoff shot him a sympathetic gaze.

“Awsten, you’re really not – ” Geoff began, but Awsten cut him off. 

“I killed that zombie, Geoff,” he snapped. Geoff blinked, trying not to seem as shocked by the outburst as he truly was. “I killed them. They were a person once. Had family, had friends, a life – “

“Aws, we’ve been over this – you didn’t have a choice! You saved my life.” Geoff assured, cupping Awsten’s face in his palms, thumbs brushing his cheeks. 

“I know, but – ” Awsten started, voice choked and tears brimming his eyes again. 

“But nothing. Aws, listen to me – monsters don’t worry they’re monsters.” Geoff said, emphasising each word in a last-ditch attempt to get them locked inside Awsten’s head. Awsten glanced down for a split second, then back up at Geoff, who’s hands still clasped Awsten’s cheeks. 

“You… you really think I’m not a monster?” Awsten asked, voice barely audible. Geoff nodded, firm and certain. 

“I don’t think, Aws. I know you’re not.” he said, determined fire flashing in his blue eyes. Awsten sighed in defeat, slumping back against Geoff’s side. He slid down the wall a little, resting his head on Geoff’s chest, his legs stretched out in front of him. With Geoff’s strong but gentle hands now no longer holding Awsten’s face, Awsten could intertwine their fingers like the vines that twisted up the branches of the tree their little sanctuary sat in. 

“Thank you,” Awsten murmured, “means a lot.” He squeezed Geoff’s hand, and received a few squeezes in return. 

“Trust me, I know monsters,” Geoff said, “monsters get their cousins killed,” he added under his breath, but Awsten caught it. He sat up, abrupt and staring at Geoff with wide eyes and a raised eyebrow. 

“That’s… oddly specific.” he said. Geoff stared back at him, blinking. He swallowed. 

“I… did not mean to say that out loud,” he said, pulling his hand from Awsten’s and running it through his hair instead, fingers catching some of the knots in the brown strands. 

“Care to elaborate?” Awsten inquired, shuffling around to sit cross-legged in front of Geoff. He looked up expectantly at him. Geoff avoided his gaze, his hands now finding a new interest in the floor. 

“I’d rather not, thanks,” he muttered, fingers tracing the knots in the wooden planks beneath him. He didn’t even flinch when the flaking wood stabbed a splinter into his index finger. He pulled it out and jabbed it back down, where it snapped under the pressure. 

“You can’t just… say something like that and…” Awsten stuttered, waving his arms around in flustered exasperation, “Geoff, take your own advice – if I’m not a monster, you certainly aren’t.” he added. 

“You don’t know what I’ve done,” Geoff said, voice quiet and devoid of emotion. Awsten felt anger rising up in his throat like bile. He gulped it back down – he didn’t want to get upset with Geoff, not now, not when he was potentially the only person left in this stupid dying world he actually cared about. 

“No, of course I don’t know what you’ve done – you won’t tell me!” he cried out. So much for trying not to be angry. “I haven’t seen you in months, Geoff, hell – I thought you were dead ! You can’t just drop something like that and expect me to be normal about it!” Awsten raised his voice, his frustration growing as Geoff remained silent beside him, carving circles into the floor with his nails. 

“I said I don’t wanna talk about it ,” Geoff muttered. Awsten groaned. 

“Jesus, Geoff, I just poured out my heart to you, crying about my stupid nightmare and you won’t even tell me this one thing – ” Awsten started, but Geoff whipped his head up, eyes dark and angry, cutting him off sharply. 

“I got Alexis killed, okay? She died because of me,” he snapped. Awsten shrunk back, guilt rushing in like a tidal wave and washing away the anger in an instant. Geoff’s eyes shone with tears. Awsten felt his heart crack and break into scattering fragments, the pieces encircling them in a halo of glass shards. 

“What?” Awsten whispered. Geoff stared at his hands, sitting limp in his lap. 

“I killed Alexis,” he rasped, clearing his throat and glancing at the ceiling to stop himself from crying. He failed miserably, because thoughts of his beloved cousin filled his head and drowned out everything else. Each time he blinked away the tears he saw Alexis, her dirty blonde hair shining, and a wide, mischievous grin plastered across her face. That wound was still fresh – he’d just torn the haphazard stitches wide open and now he was bleeding out on the treehouse floor. 

Awsten edged towards Geoff, slow and cautious. 

“What do you mean, you killed her?” he asked softly, “you started with you got her killed and now you’re saying it was you who killed her? I’m confused.” Awsten rested his hand on Geoff’s leg, just below his knee, giving it a gentle pat. Geoff huffed out an empty laugh, the sound falling flat on its face. 

“I mean just that, Aws. I mean all of it.” Geoff replied, his voice hollow. “ I stepped over the firing line, I wasn’t paying attention, I got attacked by a zombie, so Alexis had to leap in and save me, and I had to…” he broke off, dragging his palms down his face then letting them fall into his lap again. Awsten’s hand still rested reassuringly on his leg. Geoff pinpointed the feeling of its weight to help ground him.

Everything about Alexis still hurt like broken ribs, where each breath sent a sharp twinge of electric pain shooting through your whole body. Geoff had tried desperately to shove the excruciating memory of his cousin’s dying moments deep down inside him, locked in a heavily chained chest. It only weighed him down, crushing his shoulders and forcing his feet to drag along the ground, scuffing his shoes. Geoff barely gave himself the chance to grieve. He’d just… wallowed in his own self-pity for a few days (he was never going anywhere near weed ever again. He’d smoked so much of the shit he was utterly sick of that stuff) before somewhat pulling himself together and grabbing whatever he could and getting the hell out of that place. He couldn’t bear to stay in the old treehouse another second. He and Alexis had helped build it together. It held too many childhood memories too agonising to remember – Geoff had shattered them all when he pulled the trigger. 

So he had picked himself up off the floor – literally – and left. He promised Alexis. He promised her he’d survive, he’d live . Geoff would not let her die in vain. She deserved more than that. Well, she deserved to live too, but clearly the universe had other plans. Geoff could still feel the scar on the back of his head from where it had collided with the pavement during that dreaded zombie fight, and his wrist clicked funny sometimes; a cruel mockery of the first time he’d broken the same wrist as a kid – Alexis had dared him to fire their Grandpop’s rifle with zero experience – the kickback knocked eleven-year-old Geoff clear off his feet. In hindsight Geoff found it hilarious, and managed to get Alexis to laugh about it whenever the incident was mentioned, but he knew she secretly never forgave herself. She was the older cousin by a couple years, her job was to protect him, and she felt that time she had failed to. 

Now Geoff felt as though he had failed her, because he hadn’t listened when she told him to pay attention, not to “ go too far out! ” – he’d stepped away from the firing line when his Grandpop had consistently told him in the past “don’t walk into the line of fire,” , and warned him of the “heavy cost” of stepping into no-man’s land – but never in a million years could Geoff have expected the scenario that had played out all those months ago. The guilt weighed heavier in his heart than the guns tucked into the belt Alexis had made for him. 

Geoff had fulfilled at least one dying wish of his cousin’s though, and that was to find Awsten. Awsten, who was currently sitting in front of him, quiet and patient, waiting for him to continue. Geoff wondered how long he’d lost himself in his memories. 

“I had to kill my own cousin.” he whispered. Awsten’s hand on his knee froze. Geoff couldn’t muster up the courage to even glance at Awsten, afraid to see the likely horrified look on his face. Except there was no horror on Awsten’s face, just sorrow. 

“Oh, Geoff…” he said, “the zombies… they got to her, didn’t they,” Awsten crawled onto his knees, reaching for one of Geoff’s shaking hands. Geoff gave him an almost imperceptible nod. 

“Yeah. Yeah, they did – because I was an idiot who stepped into no-man’s land, so Lex had to step in to save me.” he muttered. The knife in his side twisted sharply when he uttered the nickname he had given Alexis when he was four, because he couldn’t pronounce her full name properly. 

“God, Geoff, I… I can’t imagine how hard that was,” said Awsten, squeezing his hand, “I know you and Alexis were real close.” He watched with a pang of sympathy as Geoff flinched at the comment. They sat in painful silence. Awsten felt like he was breathing in iron nails. 

“She begged me to shoot her,” Geoff piped up quietly, pulling Awsten’s attention back to him, “she would have done it herself, but she barely had the strength to pull the trigger.” His voice cracked as he swallowed back a sob. Awsten didn’t think his heart could break any more, but clearly he was wrong. 

“I’m so sorry, Gee, that’s – that’s awful,” he said. 

“She said I had to kill her before the virus did. She was terrified she’d kill me first after she turned, ‘cause… ‘cause she knew that I’d…” Geoff trailed off, thudding his head back against the wall and staring back up at the ceiling as the tears he’d been trying so hard to hold back began tumbling down his cheeks. 

“She knew you’d let her,” Awsten finished for him, “’cause you’d never leave her.” he added, and Geoff confirmed it with another small nod. 

“I could barely pull the trigger myself,” said Geoff, “I still hear the damn shot ringing out. I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.” 

“It’s not the sort of thing you forget,” Awsten remarked. 

“No,” Geoff agreed simply, then added in a quiet whisper, “we sung one of your favourite Death Cab songs together, before… you know, before I…” he trailed off again. 

Awsten squeezed Geoff’s hand again, and finally Geoff dared to look at him, red-rimmed eyes full of tormented regret. Fuck, how many times was Awsten’s heart going to break today? He’d only just woken up and the universe had decided to slap both him and Geoff in the face with a big old “fuck you, get traumatised” today. Just like yesterday. And the day before. The last few days really, ever since the incident in the H-E-B with the half-conscious zombie. The nightmares plagued Awsten every night, and it seemed Geoff was afflicted by some nightmares of his own. 

“Lex also told me to find you, Aws.” Geoff piped up again. Awsten glanced over at him, eyes widening. He scuffled closer to Geoff, still on his knees. 

“She did?” he questioned, the ghost of a smile dancing across his lips. Geoff nodded. 

“She said I had to live, had to find you. Told me some shit about us being a part of something bigger than we know, or whatever,” Geoff fumbled, waving an arm and trying to act nonchalant, but Awsten saw right through him. He knew he had to stop him building the walls back up. Geoff was allowed to be vulnerable too – he didn’t have to care about everyone else all of the time, he could let himself be taken care of too. 

“You always used to complain about how Lex was ‘always right’.” Awsten pointed out, with a light giggle in an effort to make Geoff smile. 

“Yeah, she usually was right though. And it was fucking annoying.” Geoff responded, but there was no malice to his words, just echoes of fond exasperation.

“Well, turns out she was right. Here I am, alive. Just,” Awsten joked, chuckling. Geoff’s lips curled up in a small smile at that. Awsten’s chest bubbled with triumph. “I’m glad you found me when you did, Gee. The universe was clearly on our side then,” he said, then added with a soft smile, “or it was Lex lookin’ out for us.” 

“Yeah, yeah maybe it was.” Geoff said. He wiped away a few stray tears with his free hand, nodding and giving Awsten a strained but grateful smile. Awsten squeezed his other hand, and this time Geoff squeezed back. 

As if the universe was apologising for all the trauma it was inflicting upon them both, Geoff was struck with a sudden impulse that forced him to reach for the silver Browning in its holster on his belt – the gun that belonged to Alexis. He wrapped his fingers around the cold metal, pulled it out, and placed it in Awsten’s hands. Awsten blinked at him, expression blank. 

“Geoff, what… what are you doing?” he asked, stumbling over his words. Geoff closed Awsten’s hands around the gun with his own. 

“Take it. I – Alexis would have wanted you to have it.” he urged. Awsten continued to stare at him. 

“This was hers?” he remarked, glancing down at the gun in his hands. The gun he’d used a few days ago to kill that zombie to save Geoff. The gun that belonged to his beloved cousin. Awsten smiled in awe as he realised in a way, Alexis had helped save Geoff then too. 

“Yeah. She loved that thing,” Geoff replied, watching Awsten take the silver pistol and inspect it. It looked right in his hands, fitting perfectly between his palms. Geoff felt a familiar warmth spark back to life within his chest. 

“Are you sure you wanna give this to me? Like, wouldn’t you rather hold on to it?” Awsten questioned, uncertainty shadowing his expression as he looked up at Geoff. When he saw Geoff smiling at him though, he relaxed, his gaze softening. 

“Absolutely sure,” Geoff answered, “like I said, she would have wanted you to take it. Besides, it makes me feel better if you have it, ‘cause it’s like… it’s like she’s protecting you, too.” he added, a rosy flush growing on his cheeks as he fiddled with his now empty hands. 

“And it’s also like I’m protecting the last thing you’ve got left of her.” said Awsten, admiring the gun in his hands as though he was holding a priceless artefact forged by angels. Alexis had been Geoff’s angel once. Awsten knew he could never replace Alexis, nor would he want to, but he’d certainly do his best in preserving her legacy. 

Awsten tucked the gun gently under his own belt before he barrelled into Geoff, wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug. Geoff didn't hesitate in reciprocating, his arms snaking around Awsten’s waist and pulling him close. Awsten leaned back, gazing at Geoff with one of the most tender looks he had ever worn. Geoff melted at the sight. 

“I would be honoured to carry her with us,” said Awsten, full of pride. Geoff could have kissed him right then and there. He didn’t, of course, fearing it would complicate things beyond repair. Instead, he beamed, and the warmth of his smile filled the tiny treehouse. 

“That means so much more to me than you will ever know, Awsten.” he said, and tugged Awsten back into the hug. “I’ll keep you safe,” he whispered into Awsten’s ear, “I’ll protect you.”

“And I will protect you right back,” Awsten promised, “I won’t lose you again.”

Chapter Text

Gracie growled as her vision was greeted by a delightful sight of the ceiling once again. Grace’s head popped into view, peering over at her and holding out a hand to help her up. 

“How are you able to just keep damn beatin’ me?” Gracie grumbled as she was pulled back onto her feet. She brushed herself off, tucking a few stray strands of blonde hair behind her ears. Grace giggled at her. 

“I’m three years older,” she said. 

“Yeah, and?” Gracie opposed, and Grace fondly rolled her eyes. 

“I’ve been training here longer than you.” she answered with a smug grin. Gracie huffed out an irritated sigh, shooting Grace a direct glare so sharp it sliced the air as if it were butter. With Gracie’s hard stare being almost comical, especially with her hands placed indignantly on her hips, Grace had to bite her tongue in order  to stop herself from giggling again. 

“Uh huh, sure, and that’s been since the apocalypse started so that’s what, two months?” Gracie snarked, her sassy attitude sparkling on her face in a glittering smirk. Grace’s face fell, and a sick, sinking feeling rippled through her body. 

“Eight months, Gracie,” she said, glancing at her shoes, avoiding looking at Gracie’s own faltering bright expression. 

“Oh,” Gracie whispered, hands dropping loosely to her sides, “it’s really been that long?” she asked, after a long, uncomfortable pause. Grace couldn’t find it in herself to reply, only managing a nod. She shuffled awkwardly on her feet. Gracie sniffed. “Well,” she said, looking utterly defeated, “that sure is a real jolly thought.”

Usually sarcasm laced the edges of her words like the sharp zing of lemon zest, but all the fight had drained out of her, escaping through the soles of her boots. Those boots used to belong to Awsten. Oh God, Awsten – Gracie winced at the reminder that she and her brother had been separated for the last six months. Six months . 26 weeks, 183 days, and 4000 something hours. Gracie didn’t want to think about it anymore. She couldn’t bear considering the thought that she may never see her brother, or her parents, again. Awsten might never piss her off again. She’d never hear him mock her and laugh at her and tell her he was just kidding with a ruffle of her hair. It hurt. It hurt so much, like a serrated knife jammed between the ribs. It also made her indescribably angry – the rage was beginning to boil her blood. 

From somewhere behind the two girls, Travis cleared his throat. Grace and Gracie whipped their heads around to face him.

“Is there a reason you two have stopped training?” he asked. Grace sent him a sheepish smile with a shrug of her shoulders. 

“Gracie got bored of losing all the time,” she said, eliciting an outraged scoff from Gracie. 

“Rude!” she cried out. 

“You’re gonna try and tell me I’m wrong?” Grace countered. Gracie crossed her arms over her chest with an indignant huff. 

“No, you’re right” she conceded, then turned to Travis and asked, “why am I even doing this? Is there a point to me getting my ass kicked?” 

“Resilience, Gracie. You keep getting back up again to fight, don’t you?” Travis answered with a smirk. Gracie found it incredibly annoying, and shot him a frown in return. Travis chuckled, walking over to the girls, hands clasped behind his back and steel-toed combat boots clunking on the floor with each footstep. Gracie had always wanted a pair like that, but her brother’s boots came close enough, despite their current wear and tear. Gracie adored the things. She simply kept borrowing them from Awsten until he had given up demanding for their return, and told her she could “just keep the fuckin’ things - they look cooler on you.” as he half threw them at her the last time she’d asked to use them. Gracie obviously had leapt at the chance. She swore to herself she’d never tell Awsten how much the gesture actually meant to her. He’d probably never find out now anyway. God knows where he was, if he was even alive… 

 Even without his rank badges plastered over his shoulder-holsters, it was clear Travis was army-trained through the way he held himself up ramrod straight, shoulders back, and chest held high. He carried himself with pride and respect, but not narcissistically so. His voice was calm and steady, controlled and level when speaking to others; not at them or down to them. He seemed genuine and fair - but Gracie was currently too pissed off with losing to Grace so many times that she just found him irritating, like he was the class golden boy and she was pushed aside to the background. She liked him a few days ago, when he was sarcastic and fun, but now he was bossy and vague. Maybe Gracie just didn’t like being told what to do. 

“Look, Gracie, if the government is after us, we have to make sure you can fight back.” Travis explained. Gracie sighed – she supposed that did make sense. 

“I wish I was better at it,” she complained. Travis rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. 

“You will get better. We’ll find your specialty. It takes time, Gracie – you’re not going to be perfect right off the bat,” Travis responded, “no one is. Grace certainly wasn’t.” he added, gesturing towards Grace, who smiled gently and nodded. 

“Yeah,” she agreed, “I was awful . Couldn’t throw a punch without falling over. I don’t know how I even survived two months in the apocalypse!” she giggled, earning a quiet one from Gracie too. 

“I just… I don’t know if I’m really cut out for this.” Gracie sighed, scuffing the floor with the tip of her boot. 

“What are you cut out for, then? Who do you think you are?” Travis asked, gently encouraging her. Gracie looked up at him, eyebrows raised in confusion. 

“Uh, weighted question, please ask again later,” she joked with a light scoff, “I don’t know who I am, I’m sixteen for christ’s sake!” she laughed, trying to mask how overwhelmed the question had actually made her. How the hell was she supposed to know who she was yet? She was still just a kid.

“Why don’t we switch up the training a little.” Travis suggested, patting Gracie’s shoulder. 

“Sure, why not,” Gracie huffed, “I’ll get my ass beat in a different, more fun way!” she added, sarcasm oozing from every word. Grace snorted with laughter. 

“Go pick something from over there.” Travis chuckled, pointing to the corner of the room, where what looked like a bunch of long sticks were resting against the wall. “We’ll teach you some defence.” 

With a slight nod, Gracie trudged off. She discovered upon reaching them that they were not, in fact, just sticks. They were batons and spears and forky looking things (yes, she knew they were called tridents, but they looked like forks so she was calling them forks). 

“Uh,” she faltered, “which one do I grab?” she asked. 

“Whatever calls out to you.” Travis replied, flashing a knowing smile at Grace, who lightly rolled her eyes in return. She was fully aware of what Travis was attempting to do, used to his cryptic scheming. She tried not to let herself get worked up over Travis still holding back the truth from Gracie. Ultimately, Grace knew he and Zakk were right, that Gracie wasn’t ready to hear it yet, but she deserved to know, right? 

Over in the corner, Gracie was rolling her eyes for a different reason, scrutinising each of the weapons displayed in front of her. 

“The fuck does he mean, ‘whatever calls out to me’? What is this, some spiritual awakening?” she grumbled to herself. She raised her hand, fingers grazing the handles of some of the batons. They seemed boring to her, less interesting than a baseball bat. Next she passed the tridents. 

“Weirdass three-pronged forks. Threeks, more like,” she muttered, correcting her initial observation moments earlier. Gracie wasn’t particularly fond of the possibility of being impaled by a trident today. She moved on, coming to the spears. Now these things were cool . Each of them had a unique, intricately designed spearhead, with their handles all engraved - by hand too, most likely. One spear in particular caught Gracie’s attention; ivy leaves had been carved about halfway up the handle, curling round like a garland. The spearhead itself was a pair of feathery angel wings etched into polished metal. A crown of golden leaves held the spearhead in place where it met the wooden handle. 

Gracie felt her fingers twitch like she’d received a static shock, akin to one Awsten used to give her all the time. It would happen so often, even by accident – Gracie could argue his damn blood was electrically charged. She smiled to herself at the memory, thinking about how she usually was able to retaliate with an equally powerful static zap. It always ended in them both giggling. 

The angel-wing spear glinted at her, and seemingly of their own volition, Gracie’s hands drifted upwards, fingers wrapping around the handle. Her palms warmed instantly. Gracie shuddered. Huh. Weird, she thought, but shrugged it off. She picked up the spear and rested it behind her on her shoulders with one hand, and with the other she grabbed a different spear for Grace. A less cool one, in her oh-so-humble opinion, but still pretty badass, because she kinda liked Grace despite all the ass-kicking. 

Gracie sauntered back towards Travis and Grace, a spear in each hand and a wide grin on her face. She threw the second spear at Grace, who caught it eagerly. 

“You went for the spears, huh?” she giggled. Gracie nodded. 

“I feel like a Greek Goddess holding this,” she said, admiring the angel-wing spear in her grip. 

“The spearhead on that one is actually two scythes,” Travis pointed out, “each angel wing is a separate knife.” he explained. Gracie gasped in excitement. 

“Holy shit, awesome…” she murmured. 

Grace tapped her spear on the floor with a wooden CLUNK, startling Gracie out of her daze.

“Are we gonna fight or what?” she teased. Gracie smirked. Funnily enough, the spear had in fact sparked new confidence within her; Travis (annoyingly) was right about it ‘calling’ her, because its weight felt familiar somehow, like it was made to fit in her hands, and her hands only.

“Oh we’re gonna fight. Playtime’s over, and I demand a rematch.” Gracie challenged, determined fire burning in her eyes. Grace readied herself with an equally spirited grin. 

“You’re on.” she said, switching her spear from hand to hand with a little flourish, then pointed it accusingly at Gracie. Her reaction was almost instant, her hands darting up to push Grace’s spear with her own downwards and to the side, out of the way. Grace stared at her with wide eyes and a smile full of awe. Gracie stared at her own hands, a little in awe herself. 

“Looks like we’ve finally got a fair fight,” Grace commented. 

“Oh, I ain’t fightin’ fair…” Gracie taunted playfully. Grace’s expression hardened with focus, enticed by the challenge. 

“Good,” she said, “neither will I.” 

Wood clunked against wood as both girls struck out with their spears at the same time. Gracie finally felt as though she was getting somewhere with all the training she’d been doing that week. So far, she was managing to block Grace’s every attack with moves like lightning, swiping left and right, ducking and jumping without even thinking. She was beginning to enjoy herself, and let out a giggle as she dodged yet another blow from Grace. 

“Is that the best ya can do?” she panted teasingly. Grace sniggered. 

“Oh I can do better, sure,” she countered. From the sidelines, Travis smirked. 

“Kick her ass, Gracie! You’ve got this.” he said, spurring Gracie on. She leapt forward and swung her spear towards Grace, who was only just able to parry the blow to her side. She grinned. 

“Nice try,” she said, “is that the best you can do?” she provoked, attempting to knock Gracie’s feet from under her. Instinctively Gracie spun her spear between her fingers and blocked Grace’s move. The wooden handles clicked loudly, echoing throughout the large room and bouncing off the walls. 

“Good blocking, Gracie,” Travis praised, circling the two fighting girls, “now remember, the longer you act on the defensive whilst your assailant is on the attack, the more energy you’re conserving for yourself, and the more you’re wearing out your opponent.” he explained as Gracie parried yet another jabbing blow from Grace, who was indeed beginning to tire - her breath was becoming heavier and tumbled out in a rush. 

Feeling like she was running on pure electrical adrenaline, Gracie ducked and rolled out of the way as with a yell, Grace swung wide. Gracie landed in a low crouch, deft like a cat, whilst the trajectory of her swing pulled Grace into a light stumble. She quickly regained her balance and came charging towards Gracie, who at the last second managed to albeit haphazardly cartwheel away. 

“Dammit!” Grace yelled, her frustration fuelling Gracie. She was loving this - clearly she’d found her niche: spear fighting. Her favourite Greek Goddess Athena would be proud. 

“Now in a real fight, you won’t have time to think about your next move.” Travis continued, giving more notes as the girls carried on wearing each other out. “Keep acting on those instincts Gracie, don’t overthink it.” he encouraged, then turned to a panting Grace. “Grace, you’re overthinking it.” 

“Fuck you,” she gasped out, swinging at Gracie again, knuckles tightly gripping her spear. Travis was only stirring things up to make the fight more fun, but Grace was too locked in to understand that. 

Sensing her energy was teetering on the edge of a cliff, seconds away from dropping off, Grace sprinted forwards in a last ditch attempt to knock Gracie over. Unfortunately for Grace though, Gracie had truly found her element. In a flash, she’d clocked in on Grace’s movements and dropped to the ground. Using it to balance herself, Gracie’s spear clunked on the floor as she twisted around, flinging one of her legs outwards. It collided with Grace’s ankles, and she tumbled over, her own spear clattering across the floor. The air rushed out of her lungs as she thudded to the ground, coming face to face with the bright ceiling and warm flickering LEDs. 

“HAHA! Get wrecked - I win!” Gracie cheered as she rose to her feet again, gleefully jabbing the air with her spear. Travis grinned proudly at her. 

“Excellent work, Gracie.” he commended. Gracie was positively glowing with joy, her chest puffed out even as she caught her breath.

“Yeah, nice- nice job,” Grace coughed from her position on the floor. She lay with one knee pulled upwards and an arm flung over her forehead. She let it slip off her face and flop to the ground beside her. Gracie chuckled and jogged over. She held out a hand for Grace, who took it with a grateful smile, and Gracie pulled her up and back onto her feet. 

“Now that was fun!” Gracie exclaimed. Grace giggled and nodded, still catching her breath. 

“Yeah, despite getting incredibly winded,” Grace paused, rubbing her side, “I enjoyed that.” she grinned, straightening up as the pain eased and the adrenaline slowly wore off. Gracie was still buzzing from the win. She looked up and beamed at Travis as he walked over, giving them both an encouraging squeeze of the shoulder. 

“Still think you’re not cut out for this?” Travis asked Gracie with a teasing smirk. 

“Eh, I think I’m changing my mind,” she hummed with a shrug of her shoulders, grinning. 

“Good,” said Travis, “ready to find out what you’re made of? Find out who you really are?” he questioned. Gracie placed a confident hand on her waist, a spitfire dancing in her eyes. 

“I’m Gracie fuckin’ Knight,” she replied, “and I can’t wait to find out who that is.”

Chapter Text

“Uh oh,” Geoff groaned, with a sharp intake of breath through his teeth. From his current spot in a corner of the treehouse, where he was absent-mindedly scribbling and doodling in a notebook he’d found tucked away, Awsten glanced up. He frowned. 

“An ‘uh oh’ in the apocalypse is never good, Geoff,” he said, “what’s up?”

“We are running dangerously low on water,” Geoff told him flatly as he inspected several wooden crates, trying to find any last reserves. He was unsuccessful, and grumbled in defeat.

“Ah. That is definitely an ‘uh oh’ moment,” Awsten agreed, grimacing. He placed his notebook open on the floor and crawled over to Geoff, resting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Geoff flashed him a grateful smile, giving Awsten’s hand a little pat. 

“I, uh, obviously didn’t anticipate finding you and needing to accommodate water for two these past few weeks,” Geoff chuckled. Awsten grinned sheepishly. 

“Yeah, haha - sorry about that, stealing all your water,” he sniggered. Geoff whipped his head around to stare at Awsten with comical wide-eyes. Awsten bit his tongue to stop himself from full-on cackling. 

“Dude,” Geoff stuttered, “do not be sorry - I am so glad you’re alive,” he said. Awsten felt his insides glow in the dark. 

“Hey, I’m glad you’re alive too, but man-” he paused, gesturing to the pathetic looking supply of water bottles, “this is a pretty pressing problem. We need water.” he stated. Geoff nodded curtly. 

“Yeah. That’s… that’s gotta be our top priority right now.” he said. Awsten squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep, slow inhale, then looked over at Geoff crouching uncomfortably on his knees beside him. 

“We could… we could brave that dreaded H-E-B again to get more?” he suggested. Geoff shook his head fervently. 

“We can’t, remember? It got raided and overrun by the Rogues last week,” he pointed out, “if we tried looting the store, they’d execute us.” 

Awsten scoffed in annoyance. Dammit, Geoff was right. He’d totally forgotten about the Rogue-Raid a few days ago. Granted, he had for once been gifted with a nightmare-less sleep, so Geoff had left him to rest, wandering off into town by himself to see if he couldn’t grab a couple extra supplies. He’d returned frantic and flushed, having run all the way back, babbling to Awsten about “raiders takin’ over and looting everythin’”, all out of breath. Awsten was barely lucid at the time, having just awoken from the deepest sleep he’d had in months (it definitely wasn’t because Geoff had been carding his fingers through his hair beforehand to help him relax, absolutely not). 

“Shit, yeah. Fuckin’ Rogues, uncaring brutal bastards,” he complained, “they’ll kill anyone and anything to get what they want without thinkin’ twice.” he growled. 

“Well, you gotta do what you gotta do to survive out here,” Geoff added with a shrug of his shoulders. Awsten shot him a sceptical glance. 

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t kill innocent survivors, would you?” he cried out, internally wincing at how harsh his exasperated tone sounded. Geoff sighed. 

“No, of course not,” he admitted, “you’re totally right, Rogues just suck through and through. I hate them.” he declared. He then replaced the lid of the crate containing the last of their water supply, sitting back onto his knees. Awsten pulled his own knees up to his chest, resting the side of his head on them so he could look up at Geoff. 

“So what are we gonna do?” he asked. Geoff furrowed his brow in thought for a few moments, then his expression softened. 

“There’s a freshwater river a few towns over we could go to,” he suggested, “I’ve been there a couple times before to get water – there’s a cave I usually camp out in too, it’s pretty safe. Alexis and I made sure of that.” he explained, glancing at the ground upon the mention of his cousin’s name. Awsten nodded slowly, resting a gentle hand over Geoff’s in sympathy. Knowing what he knew now about Alexis, Awsten had even more admiration for Geoff and everything he’d been through up to now.

“Okay, yeah, that sounds good,” Awsten said, before inquiring, “how long will it take for us to get there?” 

“It’s a couple days' journey, four, at the most ,” Geoff replied, instantly comforted by Awsten’s hand. 

Awsten hummed in thought, considering their options, before Geoff added, “it might be good for us to get out of here for a little while, what with the risk of the Rogues round here.” 

“Yeah, that’s a good point,” Awsten agreed, “and whilst the treehouse is farther into the woods than the Rogues are comfortable goin’, we are sitting ducks once we are outside the forest,” he continued, emphasising his points dramatically with a wave of his hands. Geoff cleared his throat. 

“Well then,” he declared, then grinned, “I guess we’re going on a little adventure!” 

“I can’t wait,” Awsten chuckled. 

The boys packed up a few bits of camping gear into some old rucksacks, careful not to weigh themselves down too much, knowing they’d most likely run into zombies at some point during the journey and have to make a speedy getaway. They made sure to leave space for the water they were going to collect too, only really packing a few essentials - blankets, some food, flashlights, matches for campfires, the last of their current water, Awsten’s toothbat (yes, Otto the toothbat was essential, and Awsten was insistent)… 

With his terrible sense of direction, Awsten let Geoff lead the way, especially as he’d mentioned he had made the journey several times before. They set off in relatively high spirits. In order to avoid being spotted by the Rogues, Geoff and Awsten camouflaged themselves in the undergrowth at the edges of the woodland when they got to the outskirts of the town. They used the bushes as cover, ducking down into a crouch whenever they saw any kind of movement akin to that of a human. Whether that human was alive or undead was an entirely different and honestly irrelevant point – be it a zombie or a Rogue, either way you’re fucked. 

Rogues were often scarier than zombies, even the half-conscious ones. Their reactions were a lot faster, they had full control over their limbs, and they usually carried some pretty powerful weapons. They also really did not care about anyone but themselves (or other Rogues, and even then that was pushing it). Both Awsten and Geoff had seen Rogues kill survivors before. They had absolutely no mercy – a fight with a Rogue was futile, and got very ugly very quickly. So it was understandable that Geoff and Awsten wanted to stay as far away from them as possible. 

It seemed that luck was in fact on their side that day though, as the boys managed to sneak past the Rogues patrolling the town without a scratch (aside from the ones Awsten got from a stupid bramble – Geoff had to clamp his hand over Awsten’s mouth, not because the brambles really hurt at all that much, but to stop Awsten from starting a loud-mouthed, dirty-worded fight with the bush). The town had been quite overrun with the group of Rogues too. They swarmed the place like angry wasps, poised and ready to strike at the slightest sign of threat. 

The boys got at least half a mile away from the town before they started talking to each other again. They had jumped a few fences, traversing overgrown fields and meadows full of wildflowers, so peaceful they almost forgot about the imminent doom of the apocalypse. Awsten ran his hands through the long grass, collecting burrs and pollen and ohmygod was that a ladybird? 

“Geoff! Geoff, look!” Awsten cried out, holding the palm of his hand in front of him. Geoff spun around to look, and his eyes lit up. 

“Oh my God, cute!” he gasped. Awsten held the tiny, cherry red ladybird closer to Geoff’s face so he could see it better. 

“Isn’t she pretty!” he said, eyes bright. Geoff nodded in firm agreement. The breeze swept through the meadow, and the little ladybird flitted away with it. Awsten watched it fly off, giggling. Geoff couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face, so wide his cheeks started to ache. 

“I wonder if we’ll see butterflies,” Awsten pondered. 

“I hope so, I love butterflies.” Geoff commented. Awsten looked over at him and smiled. 

“I know - your favourites are the swallowtails and the monarchs, right?” Awsten asked. Geoff’s eyes widened. 

“How’d you remember? And their names too?” he questioned. Awsten shrugged, nonchalant. 

“I just remember things. Not always the useful stuff, unfortunately. Makes me seem like a good listener though, so, green flag I guess?” he giggled. Geoff huffed out a laugh too, his wide blue eyes almost sparkling in the midday sunlight. If he was feeling optimistic, he’d have called that flirting. 

“Do you have a favourite kind of butterfly?” he asked Awsten, trying to distract himself from his own rapidly-descending-into-not-safe-for-work thoughts. 

“I love the red admirals, and the peacocks - those look like they have eyes and I think that’s so cool!” he replied, his words tumbling out in an excited rush. His childlike wonder was infectious, and all Geoff could do was stand and stare at him in awe, feeling like he was going to disintegrate into stardust. 

“Yeah,” he murmured, “yeah, those ones are cool - I like them too,” he added with a soft smile. Awsten then skipped ahead of him through the long grass like he was parting a vast, green ocean, clearing the way forwards. Geoff laughed and jogged after him. Awsten glanced back, and catching a glimpse of Geoff getting closer behind him, he sped up a little. Geoff immediately had Awsten sussed out. So he wanted to play, huh? Geoff wasn’t going to waste any time. 

“Race you to the end of the field!” he called out, dashing off and overtaking Awsten, who cried out indignantly. 

“Hey! No fair, gimme a chance, Gee!” he yelled, chasing after Geoff, who was cackling with glee. 

“You snooze, you lose , sucker!” Geoff yelled back over his shoulder. A mischievous smirk grew upon Awsten’s lips and he began to run even faster, eager to win. He darted through the grass, catching up to Geoff quite quickly, flashing past him in a blur and reaching the other end of the meadow in seconds. He leaned against the rickety fence, regaining his breath and composure, waiting for Geoff with a smug grin plastered across his face. 

“Jesus, Awsten - I forgot you can run that fast,” Geoff panted. 

“You saw me run pretty fast in the H-E-B,” Awsten commented. Geoff rolled his eyes fondly. 

“Yeah, but I was kinda preoccupied with trying not to get ripped apart by zombies,” he snarked, lighthearted and with a grin. Awsten sniggered. 

“Fair point,” he said, “come on, let’s keep going - I have no idea what direction we’re supposed to be heading in so you gotta go in front again,” he added, pushing Geoff lightly from behind. Geoff giggled and took the lead once more, climbing over the fence Awsten had just been leaning on, then turned back to help Awsten over, holding out his hand to him. 

The next few fields were a little less overgrown, covered in wildflowers instead. Pinks and whites and yellows were scattered across the green sea of grass, colourful petals like splashes of paint. Awsten began picking the bright yellow buttercups, trying to collect as many as he could. He sped up behind Geoff and tapped him on the shoulder. Geoff twisted round and upon meeting Awsten’s grin he couldn’t help but beam too. Awsten held up the little bouquet, glancing up through his eyelashes. Geoff felt like melting into a puddle on the ground. The dirt would soak him up. 

“Buttercups for my buttercup,” Awsten giggled, “my yellow lovely,” he added, urging Geoff to take the tiny flowers. Geoff was having an internal crisis. Goddamn Awsten for being so… ugh. Whatever. He wasn’t pretty. Nope. 

“For me?” Geoff asked, his voice cracking slightly in a definitely-not-embarrassing way. Awsten nodded vehemently. 

“Yeah, of course,” he chuckled. Geoff took the flowers tenderly from Awsten’s hands, his fingers brushing Awsten’s palms and sending sparks shimmering down each of their veins.

“Thank you,” Geoff said, gently placing the buttercups in his front jacket pocket, right over his heart. Awsten’s own did several somersaults. They locked eyes, suspended in the freefall of each other’s soft gazes. Time almost seemed to slow right down; it was just Geoff, Awsten and the wind. No apocalypse, no certain doom, just the two of them. The breeze rustled around their feet, brushing against the grass and the wildflowers. Neither Geoff nor Awsten knew just how much the other wanted to remain in that moment for eternity. 

They would have stayed like that for a lot longer than they did, had it not been for the perfectly timed flittering of a butterfly right in between the two of them, It was a gorgeous sunset orange monarch. Geoff and Awsten followed its flight path around their heads, staring at it in awe. 

“Did you know butterflies are a sign of hope and rebirth,” Geoff murmured. Awsten shook his head lightly, eyes still following the monarch butterfly. 

“I didn’t,” he uttered, “that’s so lovely,” he added quietly, daring to catch a glimpse at Geoff. He was already looking at Awsten. It made his heart do that irritating fluttering somersault thing again. God, it needed to stop doing that, it was driving him crazy. Geoff coughed, clearing his throat and startling Awsten out of his spaghetti mess of thoughts. 

“We should keep going, come on,” Geoff said, and Awsten nodded in agreement, silently disappointed about the ending of the peaceful moment. He wasn’t sure how many of those either of them had left - actually, he didn’t want to think about that, the inevitable end. Awsten knew it was coming. Eventually. He and Geoff could only survive out here for so long, and always needing to be aware of being attacked by death walkers at any given moment was exhausting. Quiet moments were rarer than gold-dust, and were something to be treasured. Things Awsten used to take for granted were now things he craved to get back. He was usually a positive, upbeat person, but that bubbly personality was much harder to keep up during the end of the world, understandably. 

Occasionally glancing back to check Awsten was still following him and wasn’t too far behind, Geoff marched on, dragging his hands through the grass, pulling at the ferns and flowers, feeling leaves and petals between his fingers. Every now and then he’d catch a glimpse of the sunshine yellow buttercups in his front pocket, and every time it would make him smile. His insides felt like they were made of glitter. He thought he’d buried these feelings years ago, shoving them away deep inside a locked chest, but it seemed that chest had been cracked from the start and now that he had found Awsten again, everything was flowing out in a glittering green-blue heap of feelings . Geoff found himself missing Alexis’ mocking of his fruit-salad mess of emotions (that were pretty much all about Awsten). Aside from Awsten himself, and maybe Otto, Alexis knew more about Geoff than really Geoff knew about himself. Fuck, he missed his cousin. 

Maybe it was because he was feeling sentimental, or maybe it was something more than that, but Geoff started absent-mindedly picking at daisies and tying them together in knots, making a chain. Alexis had taught him how to do it when they were kids. The first time they went outside together after Geoff got sick, Alexis had taken him to a huge meadow, where they sat and made daisy chains for hours, until Geoff got bored and went off looking for bugs and butterflies and mushrooms. He’d returned home with grass stains on his knees and a pocket full of sticks and stones, and several daisy chains hanging around his neck. His father had eventually given up trying to get the grass and mud out of Geoff’s shorts. 

Once his little crown of daisies was completed, Geoff turned back to Awsten who, because he was distracted by some more butterflies, almost bumped into him. 

“Shit, sorry,” he said, sheepish. Geoff chuckled. 

“No worries,” he replied, then held out the daisy chain crown, “I have something for you.” he said. Awsten’s eyes glittered in the sunlight. Geoff had always been fascinated by Awsten’s heterochromia - staring into the green and blue irises was like laying in a forest and gazing up at the sky above. 

“Cute,” he giggled, bowing his head so Geoff could place the flower crown upon his faded red hair. He struggled to hide the flush on his cheeks. 

“I now dub you King Awsten,” Geoff joked, then bowed dramatically, “it is my honour to serve the king.” he added, earning a laugh out of Awsten. Attempting it in his most regal manner, Awsten bowed in return. 

“And I am proud to serve my people,” he said, and there was a moment of silence before both he and Geoff erupted into cackles of laughter.

“Do you remember back in highschool when I was going through my… shitty break-up… and you taught me how to make these?” Awsten inquired, gesturing to the flower crown somehow still securely on his head. Geoff had made it the perfect size. 

“What I remember,” Geoff began with a smirk, “is that I tried to teach you, but you were useless at it!” he sniggered. Awsten let out an outraged gasp. 

“I wasn’t completely useless! The daisy stalks kept breaking on me!” he cried out. “My hands weren’t made for making daisy chains!” he added. Geoff laughed. 

“You play guitar, dude - I figured you’d be good at it,” he teased. Awsten fondly rolled his eyes and scoffed. 

“Yeah, well, you were wrong, and bear in mind, I was going through the worst fuckin’ break-up - I was pretty angry.” he sighed in defeat. Geoff rested a hand on Awsten’s arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. Awsten smiled softly, sighing again. 

“Hey, you had every right to be angry, getting cheated on sucks,” Geoff asserted, “those daisies just weren’t prepared to face the strength of Awsten Knight’s fury.” he said with a smirk, and fortunately got one out of Awsten too. 

“Yeah, they totally weren’t ready,” he huffed out a chuckle, “still, you’re right though – I was pretty useless at makin’ those damn daisy chains,” he admitted, then added quietly, “but it was sweet of you to try and cheer me up.” 

“Did it work?” Geoff asked. Awsten smiled and nodded. 

“Yeah, it really did. It was nice to be reminded I had people on my side, you know?” he replied. 

“I’m always on your side, Awsten. I told you then and I still mean it now, I’m with you. I’ve always got your back.” Geoff assured. 

“And I’ve got yours, always.” said Awsten. 

Despite just spending the day walking through endless fields and meadows and the occasional stretch of sparse woodland, neither of the boys felt as though any of it dragged on. It was certainly more enjoyable and much less lonely to be walking with someone else, even if neither of them were talking, just breathing in the sounds of nature surrounding them like a blanket. It was a welcome peacefulness compared to the terrifying rush of escaping zombie hoards multiple times a day the past few weeks. 

Geoff and Awsten had covered quite some ground on their first day of travel, managing to make it to their first planned stop (well, Geoff’s planned stop, Awsten had no idea what direction they were going in) in good time. The sun was just beginning to set by the time the two of them had set up a little camp between the safety of a few trees, tying their blankets a few metres off the ground like hammocks. The sky was painted with orange, pink and yellow streaks, with a few pastel clouds floating about. 

Awsten wandered about searching for firewood, picking up some nice, thick and dry twigs and branches to use. Geoff then set up the fire with the fuel Awsten had scavenged. He managed to make a sturdy raft of wood, topping it with a mountain of kindling. The only problem was it didn’t seem to be lighting. Geoff was beginning to get frustrated with his stupid lighter - why the hell wasn’t it doing its fucking job-

“You doin’ okay there, bud?” Awsten asked, crouching down beside Geoff and tilting his head to the side. 

“No,” Geoff grumbled, “stupid fucking lighter won’t light the stupid fucking WOOD.” he growled, then sighed when once again the kindling refused to spark. Awsten giggled, holding his hand out. 

“Let me try,” he suggested, and Geoff, defeated, dropped the lighter into Awsten’s open palm. Awsten closed his fingers around it and shuffled closer to the unlit fire. He raised the lighter, hovering it right beside the base of the fire and flicked the switch. The twigs sparked and small flames began licking at the wood, climbing up the kindling mountain with a bright orange glow. Embers flickered upwards into the darkening evening sky. 

“Oh fuck you,” Geoff muttered, but a grin was plastered across his lips. Awsten beamed. 

“HA!” he cried out, “First try, bitch! Suck it, I’m better at lighting fires than you!” he teased. Geoff shook his head, akin to a disapproving parent. 

“That was a fluke,” he said, “the lighter had a personal vendetta against me,” he added, huffing grumpily and crossing his arms over his chest. Awsten cackled with laughter. 

“Hey, look, I can’t help but be well equipped to destroy things. I am simply a man of chaos.” Awsten joked, making Geoff laugh too. He sat down properly, crossing his legs, then held out his hands in front of the fire. It was starting to grow into a strong blaze, big enough to put one of the thicker logs from Awsten’s wood collection on. 

“I think it’s almost ready to cook dinner on,” Awsten said, watching the dancing flames intently.

“Yeah, I think so too,” Geoff agreed, “which is great, because I am starving. ” he added. 

“Ugh, yeah, same,” Awsten groaned, flopping backwards onto the ground with a dramatic hand over his face. Geoff giggled at Awsten’s silly antics as he reached into his backpack, rummaging around for one of the cans of food they’d packed. He pulled out a can of spaghetti hoops, and Awsten visibly relaxed from his position on the ground, nestled slightly in the foliage of the forest. 

“Oh thank God, it’s not barbeque beans.” he uttered. Geoff scoffed like he was completely outraged by the notion that Awsten didn’t like barbeque beans. He wasn’t really, it was just funny to see the disturbed look on Awsten’s face. 

“I can’t believe you don’t like them. Barbeque beans are delicious.” Geoff said with a smirk. Awsten shuddered. 

“Ew. Nope. No. They’re gross.” he objected, sitting up again. Geoff laughed. 

“Well, to each their own, I guess,” he sighed. 

“No, when it comes to barbeque beans there’s only one correct answer, and that answer is ‘ no ’.” Awsten insisted. His stubbornness only made Geoff giggle more, as he stabbed open the tin of spaghetti hoops with his pen knife, then placed the open can onto a little stand he’d constructed over the fire for cooking, like a rotisserie spit. Flame roasted spaghetti hoops. Delightful. Geoff hoped they’d actually cook - many times he’d just given up and ate cold beans. It wasn’t the most appetising thing, but you couldn’t pick and choose in the apocalypse. You ate whatever was even slightly edible. 

“I wish we had marshmallows,” Awsten piped up. Geoff hummed in acknowledgement, stirring the spaghetti hoops over the fire with the blade of his pen knife. 

“We could make some epic smores on this,” he said. 

“Hell yeah we could,” Awsten agreed, nodding vehemently, “we used to do this all the time with Jawn and Otto - man, those were the days…” he trailed off, gazing up at the darkening blue sky, gradually filling up with glimmering stars. 

“Yeah, we had some pretty good camping adventures out in the wild,” Geoff said with a lamenting sigh as the memories jabbed a pin in his heart. 

“I miss them,” Awsten murmured, barely above a whisper. Geoff sighed again, slumping a little, resting his cheek on his knee he had pulled up to his chest. 

“Me too, Aws. Me too.” he said, poking the sad can of spaghetti hoops with the knife blade with a depressing tinny thunk.  

A melancholy silence coated the air, thick like molasses, almost choking the boys - worse than the smoke from the fire. Geoff continued to poke and stir the spaghetti hoops until they started steaming. Using the sleeves of his jacket as makeshift oven gloves, Geoff picked up the tin can and placed it on the ground between himself and Awsten, who sat up immediately, pulling out his own pen knife from a pocket on his cargo trousers. 

“Bon appetit,” Geoff tried for a joke, aiming to lighten the mood, but his voice came out all disheartened and miserable. Awsten still shot him a small, grateful smile though, and the two began scrabbling with their knives at the spaghetti hoops. 

“This isn’t exactly the best utensil, is it,” Awsten commented, growling when he dropped yet another several hoops back into the can. 

“Mmm, no. It is not,” Geoff agreed, “we don’t really have anything else though.” 

“Not even spoons?” Awsten asked, gasping in delight when he finally managed to get a mouthful of spaghetti. 

“You know what,” Geoff pondered, “I didn’t actually think of that.” He giggled. “I thought about forks, but not spoons. I think I actually had some back at the treehouse…” 

“So you maybe had spoons but no forks?” Awsten chuckled, glancing at Geoff with a raised eyebrow. Geoff swallowed his mouthful, then let out a defeated exhale.  

“Look, I don’t know anymore, dude - We’re just tryna survive out here,” he said with a slightly exasperated laugh. Awsten frowned, stabbing at the spaghetti hoops. 

“Don’t know why,” he mumbled. Geoff stared at him. 

“What?” he asked. 

“Why do we keep trying to survive? What’s the point?” Awsten questioned, dragging his knees up to his chest and draping himself over them. Geoff shrugged. 

“I don’t really know, man,” he replied, “I honestly don’t know,” he repeated, then, “maybe it’s some instinctual human desire to just… keep going. To just keep living.” 

“Hmm… yeah, maybe,” Awsten hummed, “or, alternatively, Alexis was right, and we really are a part of something much bigger than ourselves, or whatever.” he suggested, with a little smirk dancing on his lips. Geoff let out a quiet giggle, shaking his head. 

“You never know,” he said, “it is the end of the world after all, anything could happen,” he added, eliciting sniggers from Awsten. 

The boys continued to talk about everything and nothing for the next few hours, fuelling the fire and reminiscing moments with their friends and simply catching up. It was so wonderful to have someone else to talk to; the loneliness had gotten to Awsten many times, driving him deep into a spiralling pit of despair, taunting him until he resolved to just… give up and kill himself. Something stopped him every time he got close - probably that survival instinct Geoff had mentioned earlier. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way out of all this. 

“I’ll take the first watch tonight,” Geoff stated, startling Awsten out of his daze. He’d been staring at the fire in silence for a little while now. He nodded slowly, before realising he should probably voice his agreement out loud, then wavered in his decision. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, looking up at Geoff. His blue eyes looked golden in the light of the fire, the flames dancing in his eyes like the fireflies dancing around them in the night air. Awsten’s insides heated up like an active volcano. Geoff smiled at him, and Awsten feared he’d vomit lava. What the fuck was going on with him lately? 

“Yeah, of course. You try to sleep, okay?” Geoff assured, giving Awsten’s arm a quick rub. It was like being struck by lightning but without all the pain. Not that Awsten had ever been struck by lighting to know how painful it would be, so he didn’t really have a comparison point but – wait, that was irrelevant, Goddamnit – 

“Aws? You good?” Geoff asked, concern lacing his tone like honey. Awsten blinked himself out of his stupor. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” he replied, “okay, you… you take first watch then.” he conceded. Geoff smiled again, and Awsten felt like melting into the dirt beneath him. He totally didn’t spend most of his turn watching for danger watching Geoff sleep. No, absolutely not, don’t be absurd. 

The following two days were pretty similar; a lot of travelling through fields and forests, the occasional dash away from zombies (there was a particularly close encounter with a group of them, hiding in the corner of one of the meadows Geoff and Awsten traversed through, but the boys managed to jump the fence into the next one before the death walkers could properly start stumbling after them), chatting about useless things, and generally just enjoying the company of the other. 

They ended each day with a campfire and ate tins of spaghetti hoops and different soups (thank whatever deity was up there for no barbecue beans). Awsten even told ghost stories one night, holding his tiny flashlight under his chin for dramatic effect. It was almost, almost like how it used to be - teenagers sneaking out after curfew to go on night-time adventures and explorations in the woods, scaring the shit out of their friends with spooky stories. 

It was clear the boys were making good time; they had covered the sort of distance Geoff had been expecting, and he was pretty certain they’d make it to the cave, as predicted,  on the third day of travelling. He voiced this to Awsten, who was currently swinging his toothbat at the brambles blocking their path forwards. 

“We’re almost there,” Geoff declared, as Awsten swung out again, thwacking the bushes. 

“Cool,” he responded, without looking up, “you think we’ll make it before nightfall?” he asked. Geoff shrugged. 

“Not sure, but hopefully,” he replied, “I think we’ll probably get there early this afternoon,” he finished, jogging forwards to hold open a gate for Awsten. “After you,” Geoff said with a wave of his hand, a grin and a little bow. Awsten giggled and bowed in return before skipping through. 

“Thank you, kind sir,” he said, a wide grin on his own face, then they both continued onwards together. 

Geoff was right – they did reach the cave about an hour after they stopped for lunch in a little woodland clearing. A mound of jagged rocks jutted out from a hillside, and just as Geoff had described to Awsten earlier on their journey, there the cave was, with its entrance hidden under a blanket of ivy and vines. It was tucked away and shielded by towering trees with thick, gnarly trunks and twisting branches, like giant hands carving deep into the earth. Geoff parted the vines and shone his flashlight into the small opening, resting his gun on top of his clenched fist the way all those cops do in the movies. With the sight before him of a confident, gun-toting Geoff, Awsten was glad he was following behind - Geoff couldn’t see the furious rose-pink blush flaring across his cheeks. 

Geoff smiled and lowered his gun. Everything he and Alexis had left there the last time they’d been was still present, and most importantly, it was all untouched by zombies. Sunlight filtered in through the vine leaves hanging over the entrance, shrouding the cave in a dim golden glow. It was safe there, for now at least. He turned to Awsten behind him, beckoning him inside the cavern. Awsten glanced around tentatively, but made his way towards Geoff. 

“You’re sure this is safe?” he asked. Geoff nodded firmly. 

“Yeah, I’m sure - Lex and I made this as zombie-proof as possible,” he said, his tone lighthearted. Awsten chuckled. 

“So pretty much impenetrable then,” he said. Geoff grinned. 

“With Lex involved, yeah, pretty much.” he confirmed. 

The two dumped their heavy backpacks onto the floor, resting them against the walls of the cave and alleviating their aching shoulders. Awsten stretched and cracked his back, wincing then relaxing as he did so. 

“Ow,” he uttered, “needed that.” he added, trying for a grin but it ended up more like a grimace. Geoff bit his lip to stop himself from giggling at the comical expression on Awsten’s face. 

“That sounded like a satisfying crack,” he commented. Awsten sniggered. 

“Yup,” he said, “you’d almost believe I’ll light up like one of those glowstick things,” he added. Geoff shook his head, unable to keep his giggles contained any longer. The laughter echoed and bounced off the walls of the cave. 

After establishing who was taking first watch that evening (it could have ended up in quite a heated debate, but they were honestly far too exhausted to let that happen), Geoff and Awsten began to settle in, preparing dinner and deciding upon their plan of action for the next day. Geoff assured that they’d reach the water-town by early afternoon if they set off first thing in the morning. Awsten had to confirm they would not be leaving at the crack of dawn, because that would be a “lunatic move” according to him. Geoff had fondly rolled his eyes and guaranteed there was “no chance” of them leaving that early, so Awsten was satisfied. 

The little cave soon filled with the glowing embers of the fire the boys had built, but the heat they felt surrounding them like a warm hug wasn’t just from the flames. They talked long into the night, silently agreeing that truthfully, they’d both much rather stay up and enjoy each other’s company than go to sleep. Who knew when their last day would be? You couldn’t take anything for granted, so Geoff and Awsten were infinitely grateful the universe had pulled them back together again. There really was no one else either of them would want to face the end of the world with.