Fic: We Are Outnumbered -Chapter 2
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Ryan/Brendon
POV: First (Ryan's)
Summary: The virus has completely devastated over 150 of the world’s major regions and is spreading rapidly. At this point in time we know of only one method of killing the creatures: destroy the brain. Be on the guard of any loved ones who may have recently been in any sort of contact and could be infected. And if you find yourself in a threatened position, please do not hesitate to act. Again. This is not a test. This is not a joke. We as a species are overwhelmed. We are outnumbered. The world is about to change as Ryan knows it, but can he and Brendon survive the change? Or will they soon end up like the majority of the population?
Author's Note: Rated NC-17 for sex, violence, character death, gore. So heed this as a warning I suppose.
Disclaimer: Complete work of fiction. I don't own the characters. I'm only responsible for the plot line.
I stand up from the couch and start to walk to the stairs.
“Ry, wait,” Spencer says, throwing a hand on my shoulder. “What if it’s one of the infected like on the news?” I sigh, pausing to glance around everywhere. There it is. I rush over to the table by the front door and grab my old baseball bat out of the umbrella stand. I turn around and waved it at Spencer who gives me a quick nod mixed with a shrug, which I took to indicate that it was better than nothing at least.
“Wait,” Brendon rushes over to the stand and pulls out an old umbrella. He notices my raised eyebrow and shrugs. “You might need help.” I sigh and nod before turning back to the stairs and proceeding to climb with Brendon following so close behind that I can feel his low breaths against the back of my neck.
Thud.
I glance back at Brendon and his eyes grow wide.
Thud.
I gulp audibly and Brendon copies me.
“Go,” he mouths, pushing my shoulder further up the stairs. I give a nod before turning forward and starting to climb again. We reach the landing at the top of the stairs and pause to listen for the noise again.
Thud.
Both of us instantly direct our attention to the location of the sound and I see it’s coming from my dad’s room. Oh. Brendon and I glance at each other and I see him bite his lip. Yep, definitely thinking the same thing I am. I walk to the door and can feel my heart trying to beat straight out of my chest. What am I even going to do if I open the door and it is one of the infected? I mean, sure I have the bat, but would that really do any damage? I stopped again in front of the door, hesitating a little. This is a bad idea; we should just leave the house and ignore the noise…
“Ry,” I look back to Brendon who is staring at me expectantly. “Come on, we gotta do this if we’re gonna stay here for a while.” He’s right. We don’t exactly have anywhere else we can go at the moment. We have to do this. I take a deep breath and throw the door open, raising the baseball bat as if to swing.
Nothing.
Just an empty room.
What the fuck?
I stepped further into the room and glanced around. It was trashed, that’s for sure. How did my dad live in a room like this? There was stuff everywhere. Brendon walks towards and overturned dresser and raises an eyebrow glancing between it and myself.
“Is it normally like this?” I watch his eyes sweep over the room and I follow them, shaking my head. I hear a growling noise come from behind me and I see Brendon’s eyes widen in fear again. I spin around and look back and feel as if my blood freezes over. Shit. Stuck to the door with his shirt caught on a hook near the closet stands my dad.
Well, at least what’s left of him. Part of his face seems to have been somehow eaten away and I can see the flesh peeling from it, along with various areas on his outstretched arms. I watch as his arms strain out towards me and Brendon as he tries to reach us.
“Ry,” Brendon breathes out but I refuse to look at him. My dad’s infected and I know what we have to do, but I can’t. He’s my dad for fucks sake. I watch as my dad’s hands claw at the empty air between us, letting out low, throaty growls. It feels almost as if the bat in my hands gets heavier as the realization that this is real sets in.
“I…” I murmur, but I don’t finish the thought. Brendon moves to stand beside me, placing a hand on my shoulder and causes me to jump. We watch as my dad struggles more against the hook and eventually rips free from it, leaving a small trickle of blood running down the wall from where he repeatedly slammed into it. He stumbles towards us slowly with his arms still outstretched and his guttural moans echoing through the room slightly.
I feel incapable of moving. I can’t bring myself to raise the bat and do what I know must be done. He’s my dad. I just can’t.
Brendon must sense my hesitation because he steps between my father and I and raises the umbrella like a bat. As my dad takes another uneven step towards us I watch Brendon bring the umbrella back and swing full force at his head.
The sound that comes from the contact is a sickening crunch and blood coats the end of the umbrella, along with spraying against the wall to the right of us. The zombie doesn’t falter as Brendon pulls the umbrella back and swings again, this time even harder. Another sickening crunch fills the room as the side of my dad’s face caves in.
He continues marching towards us and Brendon drops the umbrella before ripping the bat from my hands. I watch him raise it and swing hard just as my dad’s fingers brush against the front of his shirt. The bat makes contact and with another disgusting crunch, the rest of my dad’s skull seems to cave in and he stops moving before collapsing to the floor.
Brendon looks at me, his breathing heavy, and I realize I’ve been holding my breath the whole time. I let out a shaky exhale and look down at what’s left of my dad. I swallow the little bit of bile that rises in my throat as my eyes run over the bloody mess that’s painting his corpse and the ground around him. I can’t believe it. I don’t want to believe it.
“You okay?” Brendon breathes out and I snap my attention up to him. His brown eyes are wide with concern. I’m about to nod but hesitate not really sure of the answer myself. Am I okay? I don’t even know. I settle with a shrug before stepping over the dead body, careful to avoid the blood pooling around it, and head for the door. Brendon follows without a word and as soon as he’s out I shut the door. I continue moving and walk to my room, pulling out a roll of lime green duct tape I have left over from a stupid science project. I rip off two long strips as I walk back to my dad’s room and place them in a giant X formation on the door.
“This’ll make sure we remember not to go in there,” I say quietly without looking at Brendon. “I don’t know if the blood could contaminate us or anything so we need to avoid it.” I turn back to him and glance over him quickly, noticing a small splatter of blood on his shirt. “You’ll need to change.”
I walk back to my room, him following silently behind me like a small puppy. Moving to my closet, I start pulling out a random t-shirt and jeans. They’d have to do.
“Put these on, they should fit.” I turn and toss them at Brendon who is already pulling off his shirt and throwing it next to his pants in a pile on the floor. Shit. I glance awkwardly at a spot of sunlight on the wall and wait for Brendon to just hurry up and get dressed already, but he pauses.
“Ry?” He asks and I grunt to show I’m listening without actually having to look at him. “Are you okay?” I give a nod, still feigning fascination with the way the sun is hitting the wall. He moves towards me still holding the shirt I tossed him in his hands. “Are you sure? You’re acting a bit odd.”
I nod again, still avoiding looking at him. I don’t care how many times we’ve been swimming together or changed in front of each other. It still made me feel weird that Brendon was standing in my room in only his boxers. He’s still moving closer and I can feel my breath catch in my throat. Fuck. Brendon stops, his chest about six inches from my own and I swallow nervously.
“Ryan,” he says finally, breaking the now awkward silence. I can feel his breath on my cheek he’s standing so close.
“Hm?” I offer, still not looking at him and instead redirecting my attention to the ceiling at the old glow-in-the-dark stars I put up there with Spencer when I was like eight. I really needed to take those down.
“Ryan, is this about your dad?” Brendon’s voice is quiet and I almost have to strain to hear him. I laugh a little and shake my head. No, that definitely was not the problem. The problem was that Brendon was standing six inches away from me and was almost completely naked. “Then what’s wrong?” He pauses. “Wait. Ryan. Do you like me?” His voice goes up in surprise and I feel my heart stop, my cheeks burning up immediately.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
Brendon notices my hesitation and blush, his face breaking into a wide grin.
“You do like me!” He cries out and I cringe. Shit. Brendon notices the cringe and frowns a little. “Hey,” he says softer, placing a hand on my cheek. I glance at him out of the corner of my eyes a little and notice his wide grin is gone and in its place is a much softer smile. “It’s okay, Ryan.”
No, it’s not okay. He knows I like him and he totally doesn’t feel the same way. Fuck, wow I’m stupid. Totally misinterpreting signs sucks. I feel my face burn even deeper red and glance away again. Brendon’s hand readjusts on my face and before I know it, his lips are pressing softly against mine.
My eyes flutter shut and I instinctively press back. Holy shit. Brendon was actually kissing me. Brendon’s lips pull up into a smile against mine and he gives one soft press more before pulling away no more than an inch and giving me a real smile. I can’t help but return it.
“If I had known you liked me I would have done that a long time again,” Brendon hushes out and I feel my heart skip a little. Wait, what? He liked me, too?
“Wait, how long did you like me?” I ask staring at him incredulously. He had to be joking. This was some sick joke and any second he was gonna be like, “Ha-ha! Just kidding, I never liked you. Gross.”
But no it doesn’t come. Instead he just shrugs, still smiling, and says, “Basically since I first met you. I always thought you weren’t interested so I didn’t pursue it. Spencer had said it would be a waste of time because as far as he knew you didn’t like anyone ever so…” He trails off and I roll my eyes. I was going to murder Spencer.
I shake my head. “No, I’ve definitely liked you for years now and I just thought you didn’t like me back and if I thought you did I felt like I was reading the wrong signs or something,” I babble, not looking at him again and playing with my fingers. He clenches his hand over my fingers and I stop, looking back up at him. He’s giving me a small smile again and I return it effortlessly.
“So,” he draws out. “What now?” I don’t know what he’s suggesting or even if he’s hinting at something so I drop his hand and pick up the shirt he’s dropped off the floor.
“Now you get dressed so we can go tell Spencer and Jon we’re not dead.” He laughs a little, throwing the shirt on and moving over to the bed to pick up the pants I’d given him. I watch as he hops into them, having to squeeze a little because they’re tighter on him than on me. I didn’t take into account for his ass. Oops.
Once he’s finally dressed, I pick up his soiled outfit from before and walk into the hall to throw it in the washer. Might as well clean them and not waste what was probably the only outfit in the house that’d actually fit Brendon properly. I drop in two cups of bleach for safe measure and slam the lid before Brendon grabs my hand and leads me back downstairs. Well this was happening awfully fast.
As soon as we reach the bottom of the stairs and turn the corner both Spencer and Jon seem to exhale with relief.
“Fucking finally!” Spencer shouts, actually running over to hug us both. Jon joins him and we stand in a small hug for a moment before we all decide it’s way too awkward and pull apart. “What took you guys so long?” Spencer looks between Brendon and I and we glance at each other.
“My dad was infected. Brendon and I took care of it. That’s all.” I give a shrug before walking to the couch and plopping down. I take a drink from a bottle of water before I realize it’s silent. Glancing up I see that everyone is staring at me shocked that I just nonchalantly announced that me and Brendon basically killed my father. “What?” I ask defensively and Spencer shakes his head.
“How are you so calm about this?” He asks gesturing around. “You’re acting like I just asked if you wanted coffee or tea or something. Not about you and Brendon slaughtering your fucking father!” Jon’s nodding in agreement with him and I chance a look at Brendon who only offers me a small shrug.
“Well,” I say staring at the top to my water bottle before taking another swig. “It had to be done. We couldn’t stay here tonight unless we did something about it. Now it’s done and we can stay here. But I suggest we move tomorrow to a new place. One that doesn’t have an infected body in it. I don’t know if coming into contact or being around a dead, infected person could infect any of us.” I look between Jon and Spencer and both are staring at me with their jaws open slightly. “Oh and we sealed off the door to his room, so don’t open it.” I add for good measure before returning to my bottle.
Spencer and Jon share a glance that I catch out of the corner of my eye while Brendon moves and sits down next to me on the couch. He grabs my hand, something Spencer is quick to notice.
“Wait, what the hell is that?” he asks gesturing at our hands and narrowing his eyes. Both Brendon and eye shrug innocently which only causes his eyes to narrow into even tinier slits. “Seriously, what’s going on here? Am I missing something?”
“No,” Brendon says, before I can even offer an answer. “You’re not missing anything. I just felt like Ryan could use something comforting right now. Nothing else.” He shrugs and I feel my heart sink down somewhere near my stomach.
Oh.
Well that kind of hurt. Maybe I was just kidding myself then. He probably only said that because he just killed my dad and wanted to be able to try and make things somewhat better. Yeah, that makes a lot more sense than him actually liking me. Jesus Christ, I’m an idiot. It was a lie. Figures. I drop Brendon’s hand and reach for the water bottle again, fiddling with it in my hands. I ignore the obvious look Brendon is giving me, but clear my throat.
“Alright,” I say, glancing up at Spencer and Jon, purposefully not looking at Brendon next to me. I’ll just call him Liar instead. Yeah, that’ll do. “Like I said, we’ll need to find a new place to stay. I think we should pack some food and clothes tonight and tomorrow morning we set out and try and at least get out of the city. I’m sure my dad’s car is in the garage so we can just use that. Drive somewhere out of the desert maybe?”
I end with a question not sure if it’s even a good idea, but both Spencer and Jon are nodding in agreement so I must have said something right.
“Okay that’d be a good idea,” Spencer says, nodding more. “Getting out of the city is good because that means less people. Less people means less infected.”
“Plus as more time goes by, the more infected there will be,” Jon pipes in and Spencer and I both have to agree. He was right, as horrible as that sounded.
“We’ll need to make sure we take a lot of food and supplies and stuff we could use as weapons though,” Spencer adds. “Not sure the next time we’ll come in contact with somewhere we could restock, ya know?”
Fuck, he was right too. At least dad always kept lots of canned food in the house.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Liar offers quietly. Wow, maybe Traitor was a better nickname. “I mean, we have a house to protect us here and food and water and clothing and it’s all right here. I don’t think we should leave.”
“Do you want to get infected from the rotting body upstairs?” I snap and he’s quick to close his mouth. Spencer and Jon both raise their eyebrows in surprise but I ignore them as I stand up and cross the room to the coat closet. I open it and extract all of my old backpacks and other bags from over the years. “Here. Fill these with whatever food and bottled water you can find, along with whatever other necessities you think we need. I’ll deal with clothing.”
I toss them at the guys who move quickly to pick them up. Jon and Spencer each grab several bags and move to the kitchen and pantry to start packing.
“Ryan,” Traitor says quietly, obviously not wanting the other guys to hear, but I brush past him and move up the stairs. “Ryan, come on!” He calls after me but I ignore it still.
No, fuck him. I wasn’t going to have him lie just to make me feel better. I didn’t deserve that.
Chapter 3
Pairings: Ryan/Brendon
POV: First (Ryan's)
Summary: The virus has completely devastated over 150 of the world’s major regions and is spreading rapidly. At this point in time we know of only one method of killing the creatures: destroy the brain. Be on the guard of any loved ones who may have recently been in any sort of contact and could be infected. And if you find yourself in a threatened position, please do not hesitate to act. Again. This is not a test. This is not a joke. We as a species are overwhelmed. We are outnumbered. The world is about to change as Ryan knows it, but can he and Brendon survive the change? Or will they soon end up like the majority of the population?
Author's Note: Rated NC-17 for sex, violence, character death, gore. So heed this as a warning I suppose.
Disclaimer: Complete work of fiction. I don't own the characters. I'm only responsible for the plot line.
I stand up from the couch and start to walk to the stairs.
“Ry, wait,” Spencer says, throwing a hand on my shoulder. “What if it’s one of the infected like on the news?” I sigh, pausing to glance around everywhere. There it is. I rush over to the table by the front door and grab my old baseball bat out of the umbrella stand. I turn around and waved it at Spencer who gives me a quick nod mixed with a shrug, which I took to indicate that it was better than nothing at least.
“Wait,” Brendon rushes over to the stand and pulls out an old umbrella. He notices my raised eyebrow and shrugs. “You might need help.” I sigh and nod before turning back to the stairs and proceeding to climb with Brendon following so close behind that I can feel his low breaths against the back of my neck.
Thud.
I glance back at Brendon and his eyes grow wide.
Thud.
I gulp audibly and Brendon copies me.
“Go,” he mouths, pushing my shoulder further up the stairs. I give a nod before turning forward and starting to climb again. We reach the landing at the top of the stairs and pause to listen for the noise again.
Thud.
Both of us instantly direct our attention to the location of the sound and I see it’s coming from my dad’s room. Oh. Brendon and I glance at each other and I see him bite his lip. Yep, definitely thinking the same thing I am. I walk to the door and can feel my heart trying to beat straight out of my chest. What am I even going to do if I open the door and it is one of the infected? I mean, sure I have the bat, but would that really do any damage? I stopped again in front of the door, hesitating a little. This is a bad idea; we should just leave the house and ignore the noise…
“Ry,” I look back to Brendon who is staring at me expectantly. “Come on, we gotta do this if we’re gonna stay here for a while.” He’s right. We don’t exactly have anywhere else we can go at the moment. We have to do this. I take a deep breath and throw the door open, raising the baseball bat as if to swing.
Nothing.
Just an empty room.
What the fuck?
I stepped further into the room and glanced around. It was trashed, that’s for sure. How did my dad live in a room like this? There was stuff everywhere. Brendon walks towards and overturned dresser and raises an eyebrow glancing between it and myself.
“Is it normally like this?” I watch his eyes sweep over the room and I follow them, shaking my head. I hear a growling noise come from behind me and I see Brendon’s eyes widen in fear again. I spin around and look back and feel as if my blood freezes over. Shit. Stuck to the door with his shirt caught on a hook near the closet stands my dad.
Well, at least what’s left of him. Part of his face seems to have been somehow eaten away and I can see the flesh peeling from it, along with various areas on his outstretched arms. I watch as his arms strain out towards me and Brendon as he tries to reach us.
“Ry,” Brendon breathes out but I refuse to look at him. My dad’s infected and I know what we have to do, but I can’t. He’s my dad for fucks sake. I watch as my dad’s hands claw at the empty air between us, letting out low, throaty growls. It feels almost as if the bat in my hands gets heavier as the realization that this is real sets in.
“I…” I murmur, but I don’t finish the thought. Brendon moves to stand beside me, placing a hand on my shoulder and causes me to jump. We watch as my dad struggles more against the hook and eventually rips free from it, leaving a small trickle of blood running down the wall from where he repeatedly slammed into it. He stumbles towards us slowly with his arms still outstretched and his guttural moans echoing through the room slightly.
I feel incapable of moving. I can’t bring myself to raise the bat and do what I know must be done. He’s my dad. I just can’t.
Brendon must sense my hesitation because he steps between my father and I and raises the umbrella like a bat. As my dad takes another uneven step towards us I watch Brendon bring the umbrella back and swing full force at his head.
The sound that comes from the contact is a sickening crunch and blood coats the end of the umbrella, along with spraying against the wall to the right of us. The zombie doesn’t falter as Brendon pulls the umbrella back and swings again, this time even harder. Another sickening crunch fills the room as the side of my dad’s face caves in.
He continues marching towards us and Brendon drops the umbrella before ripping the bat from my hands. I watch him raise it and swing hard just as my dad’s fingers brush against the front of his shirt. The bat makes contact and with another disgusting crunch, the rest of my dad’s skull seems to cave in and he stops moving before collapsing to the floor.
Brendon looks at me, his breathing heavy, and I realize I’ve been holding my breath the whole time. I let out a shaky exhale and look down at what’s left of my dad. I swallow the little bit of bile that rises in my throat as my eyes run over the bloody mess that’s painting his corpse and the ground around him. I can’t believe it. I don’t want to believe it.
“You okay?” Brendon breathes out and I snap my attention up to him. His brown eyes are wide with concern. I’m about to nod but hesitate not really sure of the answer myself. Am I okay? I don’t even know. I settle with a shrug before stepping over the dead body, careful to avoid the blood pooling around it, and head for the door. Brendon follows without a word and as soon as he’s out I shut the door. I continue moving and walk to my room, pulling out a roll of lime green duct tape I have left over from a stupid science project. I rip off two long strips as I walk back to my dad’s room and place them in a giant X formation on the door.
“This’ll make sure we remember not to go in there,” I say quietly without looking at Brendon. “I don’t know if the blood could contaminate us or anything so we need to avoid it.” I turn back to him and glance over him quickly, noticing a small splatter of blood on his shirt. “You’ll need to change.”
I walk back to my room, him following silently behind me like a small puppy. Moving to my closet, I start pulling out a random t-shirt and jeans. They’d have to do.
“Put these on, they should fit.” I turn and toss them at Brendon who is already pulling off his shirt and throwing it next to his pants in a pile on the floor. Shit. I glance awkwardly at a spot of sunlight on the wall and wait for Brendon to just hurry up and get dressed already, but he pauses.
“Ry?” He asks and I grunt to show I’m listening without actually having to look at him. “Are you okay?” I give a nod, still feigning fascination with the way the sun is hitting the wall. He moves towards me still holding the shirt I tossed him in his hands. “Are you sure? You’re acting a bit odd.”
I nod again, still avoiding looking at him. I don’t care how many times we’ve been swimming together or changed in front of each other. It still made me feel weird that Brendon was standing in my room in only his boxers. He’s still moving closer and I can feel my breath catch in my throat. Fuck. Brendon stops, his chest about six inches from my own and I swallow nervously.
“Ryan,” he says finally, breaking the now awkward silence. I can feel his breath on my cheek he’s standing so close.
“Hm?” I offer, still not looking at him and instead redirecting my attention to the ceiling at the old glow-in-the-dark stars I put up there with Spencer when I was like eight. I really needed to take those down.
“Ryan, is this about your dad?” Brendon’s voice is quiet and I almost have to strain to hear him. I laugh a little and shake my head. No, that definitely was not the problem. The problem was that Brendon was standing six inches away from me and was almost completely naked. “Then what’s wrong?” He pauses. “Wait. Ryan. Do you like me?” His voice goes up in surprise and I feel my heart stop, my cheeks burning up immediately.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
Brendon notices my hesitation and blush, his face breaking into a wide grin.
“You do like me!” He cries out and I cringe. Shit. Brendon notices the cringe and frowns a little. “Hey,” he says softer, placing a hand on my cheek. I glance at him out of the corner of my eyes a little and notice his wide grin is gone and in its place is a much softer smile. “It’s okay, Ryan.”
No, it’s not okay. He knows I like him and he totally doesn’t feel the same way. Fuck, wow I’m stupid. Totally misinterpreting signs sucks. I feel my face burn even deeper red and glance away again. Brendon’s hand readjusts on my face and before I know it, his lips are pressing softly against mine.
My eyes flutter shut and I instinctively press back. Holy shit. Brendon was actually kissing me. Brendon’s lips pull up into a smile against mine and he gives one soft press more before pulling away no more than an inch and giving me a real smile. I can’t help but return it.
“If I had known you liked me I would have done that a long time again,” Brendon hushes out and I feel my heart skip a little. Wait, what? He liked me, too?
“Wait, how long did you like me?” I ask staring at him incredulously. He had to be joking. This was some sick joke and any second he was gonna be like, “Ha-ha! Just kidding, I never liked you. Gross.”
But no it doesn’t come. Instead he just shrugs, still smiling, and says, “Basically since I first met you. I always thought you weren’t interested so I didn’t pursue it. Spencer had said it would be a waste of time because as far as he knew you didn’t like anyone ever so…” He trails off and I roll my eyes. I was going to murder Spencer.
I shake my head. “No, I’ve definitely liked you for years now and I just thought you didn’t like me back and if I thought you did I felt like I was reading the wrong signs or something,” I babble, not looking at him again and playing with my fingers. He clenches his hand over my fingers and I stop, looking back up at him. He’s giving me a small smile again and I return it effortlessly.
“So,” he draws out. “What now?” I don’t know what he’s suggesting or even if he’s hinting at something so I drop his hand and pick up the shirt he’s dropped off the floor.
“Now you get dressed so we can go tell Spencer and Jon we’re not dead.” He laughs a little, throwing the shirt on and moving over to the bed to pick up the pants I’d given him. I watch as he hops into them, having to squeeze a little because they’re tighter on him than on me. I didn’t take into account for his ass. Oops.
Once he’s finally dressed, I pick up his soiled outfit from before and walk into the hall to throw it in the washer. Might as well clean them and not waste what was probably the only outfit in the house that’d actually fit Brendon properly. I drop in two cups of bleach for safe measure and slam the lid before Brendon grabs my hand and leads me back downstairs. Well this was happening awfully fast.
As soon as we reach the bottom of the stairs and turn the corner both Spencer and Jon seem to exhale with relief.
“Fucking finally!” Spencer shouts, actually running over to hug us both. Jon joins him and we stand in a small hug for a moment before we all decide it’s way too awkward and pull apart. “What took you guys so long?” Spencer looks between Brendon and I and we glance at each other.
“My dad was infected. Brendon and I took care of it. That’s all.” I give a shrug before walking to the couch and plopping down. I take a drink from a bottle of water before I realize it’s silent. Glancing up I see that everyone is staring at me shocked that I just nonchalantly announced that me and Brendon basically killed my father. “What?” I ask defensively and Spencer shakes his head.
“How are you so calm about this?” He asks gesturing around. “You’re acting like I just asked if you wanted coffee or tea or something. Not about you and Brendon slaughtering your fucking father!” Jon’s nodding in agreement with him and I chance a look at Brendon who only offers me a small shrug.
“Well,” I say staring at the top to my water bottle before taking another swig. “It had to be done. We couldn’t stay here tonight unless we did something about it. Now it’s done and we can stay here. But I suggest we move tomorrow to a new place. One that doesn’t have an infected body in it. I don’t know if coming into contact or being around a dead, infected person could infect any of us.” I look between Jon and Spencer and both are staring at me with their jaws open slightly. “Oh and we sealed off the door to his room, so don’t open it.” I add for good measure before returning to my bottle.
Spencer and Jon share a glance that I catch out of the corner of my eye while Brendon moves and sits down next to me on the couch. He grabs my hand, something Spencer is quick to notice.
“Wait, what the hell is that?” he asks gesturing at our hands and narrowing his eyes. Both Brendon and eye shrug innocently which only causes his eyes to narrow into even tinier slits. “Seriously, what’s going on here? Am I missing something?”
“No,” Brendon says, before I can even offer an answer. “You’re not missing anything. I just felt like Ryan could use something comforting right now. Nothing else.” He shrugs and I feel my heart sink down somewhere near my stomach.
Oh.
Well that kind of hurt. Maybe I was just kidding myself then. He probably only said that because he just killed my dad and wanted to be able to try and make things somewhat better. Yeah, that makes a lot more sense than him actually liking me. Jesus Christ, I’m an idiot. It was a lie. Figures. I drop Brendon’s hand and reach for the water bottle again, fiddling with it in my hands. I ignore the obvious look Brendon is giving me, but clear my throat.
“Alright,” I say, glancing up at Spencer and Jon, purposefully not looking at Brendon next to me. I’ll just call him Liar instead. Yeah, that’ll do. “Like I said, we’ll need to find a new place to stay. I think we should pack some food and clothes tonight and tomorrow morning we set out and try and at least get out of the city. I’m sure my dad’s car is in the garage so we can just use that. Drive somewhere out of the desert maybe?”
I end with a question not sure if it’s even a good idea, but both Spencer and Jon are nodding in agreement so I must have said something right.
“Okay that’d be a good idea,” Spencer says, nodding more. “Getting out of the city is good because that means less people. Less people means less infected.”
“Plus as more time goes by, the more infected there will be,” Jon pipes in and Spencer and I both have to agree. He was right, as horrible as that sounded.
“We’ll need to make sure we take a lot of food and supplies and stuff we could use as weapons though,” Spencer adds. “Not sure the next time we’ll come in contact with somewhere we could restock, ya know?”
Fuck, he was right too. At least dad always kept lots of canned food in the house.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Liar offers quietly. Wow, maybe Traitor was a better nickname. “I mean, we have a house to protect us here and food and water and clothing and it’s all right here. I don’t think we should leave.”
“Do you want to get infected from the rotting body upstairs?” I snap and he’s quick to close his mouth. Spencer and Jon both raise their eyebrows in surprise but I ignore them as I stand up and cross the room to the coat closet. I open it and extract all of my old backpacks and other bags from over the years. “Here. Fill these with whatever food and bottled water you can find, along with whatever other necessities you think we need. I’ll deal with clothing.”
I toss them at the guys who move quickly to pick them up. Jon and Spencer each grab several bags and move to the kitchen and pantry to start packing.
“Ryan,” Traitor says quietly, obviously not wanting the other guys to hear, but I brush past him and move up the stairs. “Ryan, come on!” He calls after me but I ignore it still.
No, fuck him. I wasn’t going to have him lie just to make me feel better. I didn’t deserve that.
Chapter 3