Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1

The general store is dead silent. Debris crunches beneath your shoes. The metal baseball bat hangs heavy at your hip. It's dark, aside from the sunlight that pours in through the shattered windows, reflecting off the glass that littered the ground. 

You kneel down, brushing away shards of metal, plastic, and studying the object beneath your feet. A flashlight. You pick it up cautiously, checking for any damages. The handle is scraped up, but it does work. The batteries must still be inside. You click it off, storing it into your backpack for later. 

You glance over your shoulder, noting the absence of your companion at your back. Link had wandered off towards one of the aisles, your one and only shared gun in his hand. He was the better shot anyway. Not to mention, you much prefer your baseball bat anyway. 

Link peers over the edge of the aisle, scanning down its length. He's rigid as always — seemingly constantly on guard unless the two of you were back at the safe house, but that was a given. There wouldn’t be much relaxing with a bunch of undead hobbling about. 

Suddenly, something grabs you roughly by the forearm, letting out a hungry groan. 

You can’t stifle the yelp that escapes you as you startle back, attempting to free your arm from the clutches of the legless zombie. A shot rings out, and its death grip falls limp in an instant. 

You take a few steps back, watching the undead’s blood pool around scraps of resources. The next second, however, you’re already being turned, your arm inspected. 

“Link, I’m fine,” you reassure, speaking quietly. Zombies, despite literally crumbling at their seams, were rather attracted to sound. And some varieties — the fresher kinds, that hadn’t decayed as much — were all the more agile. For now, at least, all was still once more, deafened by one bullet. 

Your arm posed no signs of a bite — and scratches weren’t too big a deal so long as the two of you found some time to disinfect it in the coming hours. 

Link backed off, silent as ever, his eyes only showing the smallest hints of relief. You took a cautious step over the still body of the infected, 

“We’re gonna have to start looking for more ammo soon..” you whisper, following after the blonde.

He gave a subtle nod of acknowledgement. He tried not to use his weapon unless it was necessary. You two didn’t run into zombies all that often anyway, and even when you did, your bat was plenty enough to knock them to the ground, and allow you and Link some precious time to turn tail. 

You continue to explore the abandoned supermarket, occasionally picking something up that looked to be usable, or didn’t look like it’d gone bad yet. The aisles surrounding the pharmacy section were an incredible mess, which was expected, but perhaps there was something left under all the debris still. You and Link carefully move a collapsed shelf out of the way. 

A few bottles of painkillers — jackpot! 

You scoop them up quickly, dropping them into your backpack. 

Behind the counter of the pharmacy sections were always a bit of a wild card. You could find some decent medicine in there — and quite a bit of it — or you’d find a few zombie workers lurking behind an inconspicuous, tall shelf. 

You climb over the counter first, and Link follows, giving the store another glance. You pull your baseball bat out, holding it at the ready as you creep around the small room, looking around. Link remained at the front desk, scanning the area outside for any unwelcome newcomers. 

Much of the under the counter medicine was prescription specific, but it was good to check nonetheless. Sometimes, regular medicine got thrown that way too. Other medical supplies could also occasionally be found there, and you and Link were going to take whatever you could. 

Alas, this time around, there’s not a whole lot to take. Random pills litter the floor, and you were not desperate enough for medicine to be trying random crap off the floor. 

You gather whatever looks viable and won’t poison you, mostly looking for any other medical supplies — bandages, ointments, etc. 

Next, you continue to wander the abandoned site, searching for any mostly intact clothing items. The temperatures outside were slowly dropping, an obvious sign of the upcoming winter. You’ve already lost track of what day it was. The radio went out weeks ago. Any news of supply crates, evacuations, even merely what the situation outside of the quarantine zones looked like… if that even existed anymore. Out like a light. At this point, you’d lost any hope that someone would come rescue you. And what would it matter anyway? Link’s family was dead. Your family was probably dead, too. Where would you go?

Before any tears can come prick at your eyes, you push the thoughts away, your fists clenching as you continue to sift through the debris. You gather whatever you can once more, shoving a half-torn, warm coat into your bag. You could sew up the tears later. 

Your palm meets something soft, and luckily not cold, or warm and moving. You toss a piece of fabric away, and find beneath it a plush cat. It’s quite small, its coat grey and white. One of its eyes is missing, the other scraped up. There are a few spots of reddish brown on its back, the rest of it covered in old dust. 

Whose best friend were you? You wonder to yourself. 

Link comes up behind you, crouching down at your side. He peers over your shoulder, studying the plushie curiously. 

You turn its face towards him, the corners of your lips lifting. It’s almost childish, and you’re aware of it, but as he reaches forward to pet its little head, you could swear that he smiles too, even if it’s gone in the next second. 

“Can we keep it?” You push your luck a little further, looking up at Link. 

His cerulean blue eyes flicker to yours, and then back to the sad, little plush cat. His eyes soften, and he sighs.

You take that as a yes. There was no harm in it. You still had plenty of space in your backpack, despite how lightly you traveled. You needed the agility for running and climbing, after all. 

You continue deeper into the supermarket, coming across the former gardening section. The plants had dried out a long time ago, and the sliding doors leading outside had gotten jammed, perhaps for the best. A trio of zombies were wobbling around on the other side. 

You’d have to find a different way out, or retrace your steps back to one of the broken windows at the front of the store. Link, however, was not planning on leaving quite yet. Instead, he headed to the former fishing aisles. 

You follow after him curiously, gazing about the shelves that were still standing. There was still some fishing line, and a few hooks scattered about. With some luck, perhaps you’d even be able to find an abandoned hunting knife lying about. 

You find a nice, intact, tackle box. It was empty for now, but wouldn’t be by the time you brought it home. Albeit, there was no luck on the hunting knife yet again. 

Regardless, both you and Link had filled up your backpacks with supplies, but keeping it still light enough as to not subtract from your speed. 

You glance down at your watch. 

5:48.  

Shoot.

“Link!” You whisper-shout, showing him the time. He grimaces, zipping up his bag, and throws it over his shoulders. 

The days grew shorter as autumn went on, the sun setting earlier and earlier. 

The two of you make your way through the debris littering the floor quickly, towards the large windows leading into the supermarket. You come up to the mostly glassless one that you two had used to sneak in. Link gives you a hand through, and follows after. For now, the skies were still bright, but the light was going out with each passing minute. 

You glance around for any zombies, and notice a hoard in the distance. Not great, but at least they’re not anywhere closer. Link comes up beside you, turning his head as well and scanning your surroundings. Going by rooftops was always the safest option, since zombies couldn’t reach you unless they were already up there too. 

You spot a balcony that looks like it would be just about perfect, and kneel down to give Link a boost. He climbs up, scanning the small area first, before extending an arm out to you. You reach for it, grabbing onto his arm, and climb up onto the balcony. From there, it’s an easier path up to the rooftop. You hop along the rooftops where you can, climbing down only when absolutely necessary. 

The skies progressively become orange, the shadows deepening. You can see your base come into view now, a breath of relief escaping you. It looked fairly ordinary, like any of the other vertical houses around, but the biggest difference came from the trapdoor on the roof. You two had stumbled upon it by accident months ago, when the government had just lost control of the outbreak. And it was perhaps the best thing that’s happened to the two of you during the apocalypse. 

Link lifts up the trap door, and you slip in first. You land on the hardwood floor, marked by scrapes and dirt despite your best efforts to get rid of it. You reach your arms up, catching his bag, which he tosses to you. 

Beneath the trapdoor was a small apartment space. A kitchenette sat on one end. The single bedroom had been barricaded off, and it was kept that way. Your queen-sized mattress lay on the floor, pressed up against the wall. You didn’t have proper bedding, or a frame, for that matter. The mattresses had instead been drowned beneath too many layers of mismatched blankets. 

There was also an unused bathroom that had transformed more so into yet another storage space. Without running water, there wasn’t a  whole lot that could be done with it. 

You drop your backpack down onto the floor of the kitchenette, leaning back against the counter. Link is unpacking his backpack, putting away any items for storage. The two of you had been storing various canned and dried goods, bottled water, clothes, and anything that could be used as a weapon or reinforcement. Back in the bathroom, the two of you had created a small, makeshift medical area. 

Today, all things considered, was a successful run. You got more supplies, didn’t die – what more do you need in life? 

Your stomach growls loudly, asking for food. Link reaches for your backpack once he’s done unpacking his, and you push off the counter you’d been leaning against. Moving past him, you open the door to the pantry, looking around the various canned goods you had lying around. You grimace instinctively when your eyes fall on a can of peaches. You never wanted to even look at canned peaches ever again. You were sick and tired of them. You missed your parents’ cooking. 

But you push those thoughts away, turning back to Link with a playful grin, “So, my dear contestant! What will it be tonight – baked beans, mixed greens, or corned beef? Pick your poison.”

You hold out an imaginary microphone towards the boy, who looks up at you, blinking in confusion. 

Awkward. So much for trying to lighten the mood. 

You sigh, turning back towards the stacks of canned foods, muttering to yourself, “Could at least indulge me a little …”

Silence falls over the two of you. You didn’t really mind Link’s lack of words for the most part. After a few months of being together through the apocalypse, you got used to it. You tried to talk to him anyway, even if he wouldn’t give you a verbal answer. Communication was important, and Link did respond, in his own way. 

He walks over to the pantry, where you still stood indecisively. Scanning the shelves of long-lasting foods, he points towards the canned chili, cocking his head to the side in a silent question. You nod in agreement, grabbing the can, and crack it open halfway. 

You couldn’t be picky with what you had anymore. At least you had managed to get as much food as you did. That was already a blessing, no matter how much you mentally complained to yourself about canned peaches. 

You grab a relatively clean bowl from the rack, using a fork to shovel out some of the chili into it — enough for you and Link. Your nose scrunched up a bit at the scent, but you waved it away. Like you smelled any better anyway, not having had a proper shower in months. 

At least there was the river nearby, and you had a water filter. With the general lack of zombies near your base, and the wooded area behind it, you could afford to make trips for water when needed. However, you were trying to save soap for other things. Any “showers” you may’ve had were literally just some scrubbing with a damp towel. 

At least between that and the decaying zombies, your nose has gotten used to it by now. 

You close the lid again, and place the can into the fridge. For now, the house still had some power and electricity. You and Link, by some miracle of rubbing your two collective brain cells together, had managed to figure something out with the powerline outside. 

 You grab another fork for your companion, and walk over to your makeshift bed. You plop down on the soft mattress drowned beneath a sea of blankets over covers, beginning to eat. The chili tastes processed, but the sauce and spice saves it a little. 

Link joins you in a matter of seconds, his stomach growling in anticipation of food. He was certainly faring better than you, he had a better tolerance for whatever food they had available. 

He grabs the free fork, stuffing the food into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in weeks.

“Slow down a little, jeez...” you tease lightheartedly. “The food’s not gonna run away from you.”

Link listens… for about two minutes. 

The skies had grown dark outside, casting the room into a similar darkness if it weren’t for the lamp on the kitchenette’s peninsula, and the moonlight that wiggles in through the cracks the boarded up windows. Link is snoring softly, tucked into bed beneath the blankets. You stand in front of the sink, wiping the bowl clean with an old rag. Your gaze occasionally flickers to your companion, admiring the peaceful sleeper. 

You place the bowl back on the rack, leaving the rag on the counter. The world outside is quiet. You click off the lamp, giving your eyes time to adjust, before climbing into bed on the side that was less occupied by the sprawled out boy. You curl up under the warm blankets, searching for a comfortable position to fall asleep. 

Suddenly, your wristwatch begins beeping. You look at it, noting the time. Sunset. Despite the fact that you’re safe at the base, you find your heart picking up its pace. 

The final alert sounds, and the cries of zombies reach your ears from somewhere hopefully very, very far off. 

The sound dies out. The night falls silent again. Link rolls over, unphased in his deep slumber. You pull yourself a little closer to the only person you can trust.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

The two of you sit on the riverbank. The water slowly trails past you, the noise filling the air. It’s clean here. Calming. Your eyes are closed, your breathing slow. You don’t meditate often, but sometimes, you just need a moment to escape the apocalypse and decay around you. 

It was a rare, warm day. Even the water was lukewarm. 

Splash!

You flinch, eyes flying open as you feel something wet run down your face. Link stands knee-deep in the shallow river, looking at you with slightly widened eyes. He offers an apologetic smile, coming out of the water to offer you something to dry your face. 

He gives you his sleeve, still somewhat lacking water to dry off. 

“Dang it, Link,” you wipe the water off your face, giving him an annoyed look. 

The boy still holds the same apologetic look, and you can’t even be upset with him for too long. You dry your face off, but the wet parts of your hair will just have to suffer. You sigh, giving the boy a playful push back towards the water. 

Link looks a little confused at first, but even without words, he understands that it wasn’t meant in malice, much like you understand that neither was the splash. 

“Go on, you kelpie,” you usher, waving him away with a smile. 

Reasonably, you needed to use the day to get some washing done. The water wasn’t ice cold today. The sun was shining, the wind was gentle. And you were already wet anyway. 

But that could wait, right? 

Link had just turned away, studying something in the water. The perfect, distracted victim. 

You rise to your feet as quietly as you can, gently sliding into the river. It’s pretty shallow, barely reaching your knees, which meant that you had to be extra slow and stealthy. When you creep within splashing distance, your curiosity overrides any mischief, and you attempt to look over his shoulder. What was he looking at so intently? 

He reaches into the water, attempting to scoop something up that you can’t quite see. And before you can react, a handful of water is projected right towards your face. 

With a noise of surprise, your arm flies up to shield yourself, taking most of the attack. You retaliate, splashing Link back. He chuckles, turning away from the water heading towards him, and you’re forced to pause, taking the sound in. 

Link laughed. Link laughed just now. In all your time of knowing him, he’d never done that. 

Yet, you couldn’t drop your guard yet, as the boy decides that this was war. Link uses his arm to send more water your way. You can’t help your own laughter, retaliating as well. At this point, you two are making so much noise, it’s a miracle that you haven’t drawn the attention of any zombies. Then again, they had no business in the woods anyway.

“[Name],” the sound of Link’s voice snaps you back to attention, and you halt in your tracks, following his gaze. 

A good amount of feet away, a zombie had run out into the wooded area, following after the loud noise. Even from a distance, it looked fresher than the others, and its superior agility was evident. 

However, its eyesight may still be bad. 

Slowly, you kneel down, allowing the water to cover more of you. Link follows suit, lowering himself as well. The zombie whips around, looking for the source of the noise that had ceased just moments ago. 

You watch as the thing circles around the area, completely oblivious to your presence. For now. 

Link fingers wrap around your arm, holding onto you tightly. He shifts his stance slightly in preparation to run in case the thing catches on. The thing continues to look around, taking a few steps closer, its head whipping around. It gazes out to the river, studying its length, and the location where you and Link are crouched. You hold your breath, glancing at your baseball bat. It lies a few strides away on the riverbank. 

But Hylia smiles upon you at that moment. The zombie rushes off elsewhere, and you stare after it with bated breath. 

It doesn’t come back. 

Slowly, Link lets go of your arm, pulling away with a shared sigh of relief. You rise to your feet, making your way back to shore. You’ve had enough splashing for one day. 

Despite the fact that you’ve had enough of the water, you are drawn back to it sometime later. You sit next to Link, scrubbing the dirt out of a pair of trousers. The washing needs to get done while the water is still warm, and the sun shines bright. With a huff of annoyance, you toss the trousers back into the basket, dubbing the job ‘good enough’. Soap and other disinfectants had to be saved for more important matters. 

Your hands ache a little, and you decide to sit back for a bit, and take a break. Link was trying to patch up a jacket the two of you had scavenged, his brows furrowed in concentration while he held the needle and thread in his hands. 

You observe him for a few moments, before turning your attention elsewhere, deciding not to bother him. Instead, you decide to get up and stretch your legs a bit. You abandon the yet-to-be-washed clothes next to him, rising to your feet to look around. 

You soft through the loose soil, picking up the few smooth pebbles you manage to find, and throwing them out onto the water, attempting to skip them across the river. It doesn’t really work, but tossing rocks into water is fun all the same. 

A few small, white mushrooms had sprouted up farther away from the water. Yet, you cannot identify them, or how safe they would be to eat. We should get some kind of mushroom book one day, you comment to yourself, but you’re not sure how likely it is that you’ll stumble around something like that out in a random bookstore.

An old, fallen tree rests on the riverbank, its trunk hanging just above the slow, tumbling water. It’s been here for a while, and that shows. Lichen has made itself a lovely neighbor to it, and the bark is pretty loose. You pick off a few pieces, your mind striking a match of memory. 

You pick off a bigger piece, and then begin looking for a thin stick, and a decently sized leaf. You find both soon enough, even gathering enough for a second arts and crafts project. Link glances to you when you plop down next to him again, his brows rising. 

“You wanna make a boat with me?” You offer, getting out your pocket knife. You and your father had made a few before, and you got the basic process. 

You drill a hole through the piece of park, and make two small cuts in the leaf to slide the stick through. Then, you place the stick through the bark, making sure it didn’t go too far through — the perfect sail. 

Link gets the gist pretty quick as well, following your actions to create his own. He flips it over, propping the edge against his knee to carve his initials into the base. This time, you’re the one who takes example, carefully carving into the wood without damaging the base of the boat. 

Link smiles, rolling up the legs of his trousers to wade through the shallow water. You follow after him, your boat in your hands. The two of you stop in the middle of the river, testing the buoyancy of the two little projects first, before you release them fully. Your boat treks the waters first, and Link’s follows on its tail, trying to catch up. 

A gentle ache develops in your chest, and your eyes grow wet. You blink any emotions away, banishing any thoughts of your parents out of your mind.  

You reach upward, clipping a shirt to the clothesline. You had returned back to the river a bit later in the day, washing some clothing with Link while the waters were still warm. You grab the last article of clothing to hang up, and allow Link to move the basket off to the side. 

Your eyes wander to the horizon, looking over the city. Its bleak ruins, the sun on the horizon. 

“Link?” You call back, looking over your shoulder. 

He looks up humming back an answer. 

“What do you think became of the school?” You ask. Everything had shut down so quickly when the outbreak had begun. 

Link shrugs, walking over to look in the direction of the school, despite the fact that you couldn’t really see it from your safe house. 

You nudge his arm gently, proposing, “What if we went there to explore? There probably won’t be any zombies in there. It shut down well before all hell broke loose.” 

Link’s expression didn’t change, so you continued. 

“Think about it — maybe we’ll find some good stuff there. Sports equipment, maybe food or water. There’s probably a ton of fabric in the interior design and apparel classrooms left, too.” 

You take a step closer, smiling playfully, “aren’t you at least a little curious?” 

He sighs softly, nudging you back, but you know that he wouldn’t pass up a challenge. In any case, you two had to find some way to entertain yourselves. 

“Hey, you used to do fencing, didn’t you?” You remembered suddenly, now that you’re thinking back on your brief highschool experience. “Yeah. I remember them announcing a few wins over the intercoms. Do you think some of that equipment is still there, too?” 

You continue to muse, sparks of excitement dancing in your chest. Neither of you knew what lay within the school building now, but that was part of the fun. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

Your breathing was heavy as you sat next to Link, taking a break. 

“I didn’t realize how far away this thing was,” you sigh, wasting your restored breath on words. “This might be a whole-day trip.” 

The school was in view now, standing tall and empty against the grey, cold skies. Link retrieves his thermos from his backpack, offering the warm water to you. You accept it gratefully, taking a few sips before returning it back to your companion. 

The two of you rise, and continue on, uncertain what you’ll find inside of the building. With some luck, it may be a large haul of potentially useful equipment. 

The doors remain closed, somehow, and look pretty intact. You may need to throw a few rocks through a window. The two of you lurk around, scanning the first floor. It’s dark, but it looks pretty much untouched. Looks like you’re the first ones to get there. That’s never happened before. 

You find the interior design classroom at a corner, its windows large. You pick up a decently-sized rock, holding it in your hand. With a windup, you throw it at the glass: 

It shatters loudly, leaving a hole in the glass. The rest is knocked in with your bat. The school remains eerily silent as you slip through, pulling the blinds up fully. Link climbs in after you, making a beeline for the door. He scans the outside of the classroom, making sure it was clear, before unlocking the door. 

You look around the familiar room. Dust collects on the shelves, materials left in their respective closets. Large fabric scissors, fabric, pliers, twine, thread, so many supplies… You don’t take a lot: a pair of pliers and scissors, and a ball of twine and thread. You’ll need the room for more supplies. 

You and Link leave the classroom, closing the door after yourselves. You creep along the silent hallway, stopping to raid the apparel classroom nearby, before continuing on. 

The school building brought back many memories. It’s large, once filled to the brim halls now empty and quiet. Never again will you have to get mad at slow walkers, or friend groups that take up the entire walkway. It is all gone now, but you weren’t about to fixate on that. 

“Do you know where the teachers’ lounge is?” You whisper to Link. You’d never been in a teachers’ lounge before, yet it certainly sounded interesting. 

Link leads the two of you over to an unlabeled room, stopping there. You raise your brows in a silent question. Kneeling, you retrieve a lockpick out of your pocket, beginning to work at the lock. Link stands at attention, ever vigilant as his gaze searches for any signs of trouble up and down the hallway. The lock gives in soon, and you push the door open slowly. It creaks, causing you to pause. In the otherwise silent building, any noise sounded like a scream of “ZOMBIE ALL-YOU-CAN-EAT BUFFET RIGHT HERE!” 

However, the silence only coats over the space once more, settling everything back to rest. You step into the dim room, looking around. There was a large sofa, armchairs, even a small kitchenette with a fridge and a microwave. You creep over to the fridge, reaching to open it. Link follows after you, curiosity winning him over. 

Empty. 

With a shared frown of disappointment, you shut it. Not even a few bottles of water.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting from the teachers’ lounge, but this was pretty on-par. Aside from a box of napkins, though, there wasn’t a whole lot of anything interesting to take, though. 

You and Link keep moving forward, exploring the various classrooms, and scavenging for any supplies and equipment. You continue up to the second floor, returning back to familiar classrooms, now empty and barren. You feel bad as you raid the classroom of your favorite science teacher, but as things were going now, it was unlikely that everything would return back to normal anytime soon. You shove a few pairs of safety goggles into your bag on top of some pipettes and a stapler. 

Were they even still alive? It was an awful thought. Were any of those kids you used to sit at the same table with? Were your friends? 

You push the thoughts out of your head as you did every time, coming over to Link instead. He was repacking the contents of the red emergency trauma bag into his own backpack, just as he’d done with every classroom you’ve visited. 

“Think we’re done here?” you ask quietly. Everything was going almost too smoothly for how big the building was. Not a single zombie in sight. Not one.

Link nods, zipping up his backpack, and throwing it over his shoulders again. The two of you head back down the stairs upon exiting the classroom. Your next stop was the large gym closet, tucked away at the corner of the school. Link knew it better, being the more athletic one out of the two of you, so you allow him to sift through it for anything useful, while you stood guard in the hallway, your baseball bat in hand. He comes over, unzipping your backpack from behind you, and stoving something away. You glance over your shoulder, noting the handle of another baseball bat that stuck out of it now. Seems his backpack is too full to carry more stuff now. That was a good sign for the two of them to start heading back. Better return again tomorrow and take more things, than try to shove more things into your hands to haul it all in one trip. 

But your curiosity wasn’t satisfied just yet. 

“Link? Can we stop by one more place before we go?” You ask.

You’ve never been in the school kitchen before. Of course, there was no food here, and even if there was, it certainly had expired by now. At least, it was interesting here. There was a lot of shiny, metal equipment, like in some kind of fancy restaurant – despite the irony of how bad you remember the school lunch food actually being. 

Link has separated from you, looking around the large lunch room while you made your way into the back, where the kitchen was. It’s not awfully interesting here, but now you know what it was like back there. You look at the equipment, checking out one of the knives in consideration, when you hear something behind you. 

You look over your shoulder, expecting Link, but your heart’s already dropped, assuming the worst. 

And it was right. 

You barely have a moment to react. An ear-splitting explosion sounds, and you’re thrown back from the force. The tile is cold against your cheek. There’s an awful scent of rot in the air. A dark red liquid coats your clothes. Your ears ring. 

A familiar silhouette appears in the entrance of the kitchen. Your vision’s still blurry. He lingered in the same spot for a few seconds, before rushing over to you. 

“[Name]?” A familiar voice asked, one you wish you heard more often. 

His attention is brought away from you as a scream echoes from somewhere a little too close for comfort. He mutters something under his breath, before attempting to hoist you up onto your feet. You’re still a bit rattled, but you pick yourself up, head aching. He tugs you away, and as you walk after him, your hand in his, you notice the mess on the floor. Foul-smelling blood and pieces of rotten flesh are splattered all over. There’s an almost acidic scent in the air, but Link’s already pulling you out of the lunchroom before you can process what happened. 

He pulls you into one of the classrooms the two of you had broken into. He locks the door, just as the sound of shattering glass echoes through the building, coming from the lunchroom. Your ears finally stop ringing, the dizziness seeping out of your head. He moves the two of you to the adjacent corner of the classroom, where you wouldn’t be seen from the door window. 

You look down at yourself where you’re crouched. Blood is splattered all over your clothing and skin. What.. happened back there? Did something really blow up? 

Your thoughts are interrupted by the cry of a zombie outside the room. Drawn by the loud sound from the kitchen, it now searches around, looking for its source. 

You and Link remain crouched in the corner of the classroom, keeping even your breathing quiet. Footsteps drawn closer. You scoot yourself a little closer to Link. The zombie outside lets out a groan. Its nails scratch at the door. Your hand reaches for the baseball bat on your hip. 

But then, the scratching stops, and the zombie moves on, its footsteps fainting away. 

You let out a quiet breath of relief, slumping back against your companion’s arm. He looks at you, concern in his eyes over what happened earlier. You felt more or less fine now. Maybe a bit shaken up. What the hell was that back there?

“Did something explode?” You ask him in a whisper. 

He gives an uncertain nod. Link hadn’t seen it, but it sure sounded like it, and the aftermath looked like something – or some one – definitely did. 

“What kind of zombies blow up?” You mutter to yourself now. The blood, the pieces of rotten flesh, that acidic smell. 

You and Link wait for the school to quiet once more before deciding to just open one of the classroom windows and make your escape. Back at the base, you stand in front of the mirror in an undershirt, wiping dried blood off your face, and picking flesh out of your hair. Your topmost layers of clothing lie in the laundry basket, waiting for the next wash. You could faintly hear Link putting away the things from your backpacks in the other room. 

A knock sounds at the door, and you respond quickly, “come in.”

Link opens the door, a few first aid kits in his hands, and other medical supplies. He moves past you, dropping them off on the shelves of the linen closet. Walking back, he lingers briefly, looking over you to make sure you’re alright. 

Your eyes flicker to him, noticing the persistent worry in his gaze. 

“I feel fine,” you reassure, turning your eyes back to the mirror. You continue to clean up the blood that’s not yours, diligently scrubbing your skin with a damp towel. Still, he stays there for a few moments longer, before reluctantly returning back to the main room.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

“This tastes awful,” you complain mostly to yourself. 

Your fork pokes at the canned greens. It smells awful. 

“If I take one more bite, I feel like I’m going to throw up…” you sigh. 

Link gives you a brief, sympathetic look, but there’s little he can do about this matter. There was no picking and choosing with food anymore, and in any case, it was almost better to eat the worst stuff first. Or let Link wolf it down and go hungry. Neither were particularly awesome options as you stare down the floppy, discolored vegetables. And you still have half a can of this stuff…

Reluctantly, you shove another spoonful into your mouth, swallowing quickly before deciding that enough’s enough. Link, and his strangely tolerant stomach, can eat the rest. You take a few sips of water, attempting to wash away the aftertaste. You don’t even want to look at the canned vegetables anymore, so instead, you turn to your notes. 

“Don’t you think we should start – I dunno – categorizing the different zombies outside?” You ask, glancing back at your companion, who was still eating, somehow. You sit down on the bed next to him, fixing the small, grey cat plush that you had rescued from an abandoned general store not too long ago. 

“There’s obviously different types of them, right? Or, different stages of the infection,” you continue, looking at Link. He, however, is more interested in shoveling the rest of your shared breakfast into his mouth at the moment. 

He finishes the food that had disgusted you, getting up to clean the bowl and forks off. You remain seated on the mattress until he decides to rejoin you, finally giving you his undivided attention. 

“Anyway,” you continue. “Most of them seem to be really slow, and mostly decayed. But there’s also the fresher ones that are far more agile and have better senses. Then, there’s the…things that come out at night. And now…”

You trail off, thinking back on what happened on your previous expedition into your old, abandoned, school.

“Can zombies really explode?” You wonder, looking at Link as though he would know any better. Neither of you actually saw whatever it was before it decided to blow up in your face. At least you didn’t suffer any permanent injuries, or lost your hearing. 

You sigh, eyes flitting towards the boarded up window on the side of the makeshift bed. 

“Maybe we could come up with names or something?” You suggest. “The radio’s not gonna tell us anything anyway, so we may as well do it ourselves.”

Link nods, taking your notebook and pencil into his hands. Over the following few hours, the two of you spend your time pretending to be taxonomists, climbing up onto particularly tall cars, or merely rooftops, and looking at zombies. Hell, you even brave up enough to cause some noise and attract one of the fresher zombies over so that you could compare, giving it a whack every once in a while to keep it from getting too close. 

However, Link and you both agree not to risk going out again at night to look for whatever different kind of zombies emerge after sunset, because neither of you want to die. Albeit, Link may’ve considered it for a few moments before it was quickly shut down by you. He was impressively courageous, but that didn’t mean he was allowed to be unnecessarily reckless. You had no need to venture out at night, when you couldn’t see much, anyway. 

And, you couldn’t find any zombies that looked like they were thinking about spontaneously combusting the moment they got in your vicinity, so that was a bust in its own way. 

Link remained surprisingly engaged the entire time, despite your rather silly idea. Nonetheless, it was nice to be taken seriously, as you always were with him unless the two of you were genuinely goofing off. Often, you felt lucky to have him as your companion. Alone, you know full well you wouldn’t have lasted nearly as long. The first month after everything went downhill was by far the worst. You didn’t remember a whole lot from that time, and perhaps it was for the best. 

By the time that Link and you had returned back to the base, you had a somewhat concrete idea of the general “stages” of infection that you decided to classify.

Stage 1: Victim is infected via a bite.

Duration: Unknown.

Presumably, the victim’s body begins to decay, and their consciousness progressively falls to insatiable hunger. 

Stage 2: Viral / Runner

Duration: Unknown

The mind is almost completely controlled by the parasite, but the victim occasionally shows signs of brief moments of regaining consciousness, though not for long. The body is least decayed at this stage, and the victim is extremely agile, with good hearing. Its eyesight, however, is still poor, mostly focusing on movement. 

Stage 3: Walker

Duration: Longest

The victim is no longer conscious, only acting on its instinct to feed. They’re much more decayed, slow, and rather dumb, easily distracted if something is tossed their way. 

“Link?” You ask, looking over your list. “Do you think that whatever exploded should be, like, stage four, or a sub-stage of stage three?”

Link falls into thought as well, looking over your shoulder at the list. Of course, you could just leave it blank for now and update the list later on. Not like you’d be running into either of those anytime soon…hopefully. 

Night had begun to fall, and the two of you were sitting in bed, playing battleship. 

“Ugh, sunk,” you roll your eyes lightheartedly, tossing one of your ship pieces off to the side. 

You scan the board in front of you, attempting to figure out where Link hid his last ship, “A8?” 

Link shakes his head, his grin growing, enjoying watching the struggle. 

“Damn… you sure you didn’t eat it?”

Before Link can respond, your attention is drawn to the beeping of your wristwatches, and the clock on the floor, next to your bed. With the final beep, everything went quiet once more. 

The screams of zombies echo outside, racing over the city like an avalanche, before fading away again. 

“You locked the trapdoor, right?” You ask, just to double check. 

Link nods, affirming. His attention, however, is quickly consumed by the darkness outside the boarded up window again. He gets up out of bed, reaching for his gun. 

“Link?” You ask, worry rising in your chest.

He doesn’t respond, instead walking over to the trapdoor, unlocking it.

“What are you doing?”

You get up to follow after him, your brows furrowing in confusion. What has gotten into this fool?

“Link, come on.”

He doesn’t respond, already set on climbing through, up onto the shaded rooftop. You follow after him, cursing under your breath. It’s cold. You hug your arms, rubbing them to help retain some warmth. 

“What the hell are you doing?” You ask again, more insistently this time. Back when radios and TVs actually worked, all the news stations would consistently say the same exact thing — do not go out after dark. 

And here the two of you were. Out in the open. After dark. 

You look around, unable to see a whole lot due to the lack of any sort of light. The streets were shadowed, and you couldn’t make out anything from on below. Movement catches your attention out of the corner of your eye, but when you turn your head, everything was still once more. 

“Link, please,” you begin to plead quietly, your unease growing by the second. “Can we go back inside?” 

You grab his arm, but he doesn’t budge. No, he’s on an expedition.  

He flicks on the light that hung over the rooftop, looking down below. The boy’s really settled on seeing whatever night terrors roam the streets after dark. 

Your breath hitches, as you hear some scraping coming from nearby, but you can’t see anything, even now. Your mouth opens to plead with your stupid companion once more, but it’s cut short. 

You see a large shape fly from another rooftop to yours, landing on its edge. Its long claws grip the side of the building, pushing itself up over the edge. 

At this point, you’re running on pure fear and adrenaline. You shove Link back towards the trapdoor, and this time, he doesn’t protest. The thing rises up, its eyes focusing in on you, and man is it ugly. 

You make the move first, grabbing hold of the trapdoor as you jump through without thinking. The thing lunges after you, but just barely misses. It falls onto the trapdoor, shutting it for you. 

In the safe house, Link breaks your descent as you fall through, setting your feet back onto the ground of the room. You’re still holding onto the trapdoor in a death grip, hearing the angry snarls of the thing outside. You lock the entrance quickly, and allow Link to pull you away. 

It scratches at the trapdoor, growling loudly, but eventually relents. Your heartbeat is racing, your breaths coming in quick. You’re still holding onto your companion, who’d backed the two of you away from the trapdoor. 

Everything grows quiet once more, and the adrenaline slowly begins to fade. With a defeated sigh, you allow your forehead to drop to Link’s shoulder, processing what just happened. 

“Never again,” you mutter to yourself. Link, having learned his lesson, seems to silently agree with the statement. Hopefully, at the very least, because if he did that again, you were just going to leave him for dead. 

For the time being, though, you continue to hold onto him in an effort to ground yourself in something real and alive. He doesn’t mind, needing it just the same after what just happened, even if he was better at not showing it. 

You take a look around the room, thinking to yourself – This is your base. It’s safe here. Nothing bad is going to happen here. Everything is alright. It’s safe. 

You focus on the various objects in the room, before your eyes fall on your unfinished game of battleship, and your brows furrow.

“Are you serious?! You put it right up against another ship? Link, that’s borderline cheating! Who does that?”

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

Raindrops sounded against the glass outside of the safe house. Link was tidying up the base, while you sat on the floor nearby, cleaning your baseball bat, and his handgun. It’s been raining since morning, making it too risky to head out. As a result, Link and you were trapped in the base for the foreseeable future, with nothing to entertain yourselves with, but each other. 

Complete and utter boredom. No TV, no outdoors, no nothing. 

You pick yourself up with a sigh, walking over to your makeshift bed. You lean your baseball bat against the bedside table, upon which you place the now-clean handgun. You look back at Link, who’d also finished tidying up the place, stuffing a few dirty shirts into the laundry basket. 

“Anything you need help with?” You ask, but Link just shakes his head. 

Everything was pretty much taken care of. The two of you could focus on organizing your medicine storage, but that’s about all you can think of. In about an hour, you end up with a somewhat coherent bathroom storage, with first aid stuff in plain view, while other various bottles and pills were sorted out either under the sink, or on the built-in shelves on the wall. Hopefully, you wouldn’t have to use any of it anytime soon, but it was good to have in sight. 

You returned back into the main area of the small base, finding Link at the boarded up window, looking through it at the pouring rain. 

“Hey,” you greet him, looking over his shoulder. Still pouring. Link sighs softly, clearly not the biggest fan of being trapped inside due to the weather either. 

He turns around, walking over to the bedside table. He opens the top drawer, pulling out a box of matches, and stuffs it into his pocket. He comes up to the trapdoor leading out onto the covered roof, but turns to you, cocking his head to the side in a silent offer. 

You mimic the gesture, glancing up at the trapdoor. Link really wanted to head up onto the roof in this weather. 

“What’s up there?” You ask, curious and mildly concerned. 

Link holds up the box of matches, before grabbing a random board game from the stack of boxes next to the makeshift bed. 

Soon, the two of you have a small campfire going, protected from the downpour by the higher roof covering. The two of you sit opposite each other in lawn chairs you stole, and you’re winning. 

“Leave my pawns alone,” you protest playfully, sighing as Link takes another one of your pawns with his horse, but he’s much lower on pieces anyway. There was still a chance. 

You send your bishop forward, taking out now of his rook, but end up losing it to his other horse. What was with this guy and horses? 

“Dude,” you stare after the light piece as he takes the bishop off the board with a cheeky grin. 

It was a nice activity that didn’t require too much brain power unless you really wanted to rub the win in Link’s face later. The fire was warm, the rain soothing. And you were in the company of your best friend. 

“This is nice, isn’t it?” You ask, half to yourself. Link hums back a response, before conveniently placing one of his pawns right within snatching distance of your queen. You don’t hesitate to make him regret that move, earning you a look of lighthearted annoyance. The game continued on until both of you only had a few pieces left, which were now aimlessly wandering around the board with no victory in sight from either team. 

A little tired of randomly shoving pieces around the board, you offer, “you wanna call a draw?”

Link pauses a moment for debate, but soon nods, reaching over to round up the remaining pieces, and toss them back into the box. He disappeared back into the base through the trapdoor to drop off the chess board, leaving you alone on the sheltered roof. You look up at the sky, watching the raindrops fall a few feet away from you. It was nice to have a lazy day every so often, where you had nowhere to go, and nothing to do. 

Your attention was brought back to the open trapdoor as Link tossed a blanket up onto the roof. You raise a brow, getting up from your lawn chair to look down at what the heck he was doing. He greets up with a softer expression from below, holding up two mugs of water, a tea packet floating in each one. You smile, taking them into your own hands so that he could climb through without much trouble. 

You place the two mugs onto the makeshift grill the two of you had made, so that they could begin boiling. Link comes over to you, holding the blanket in his hands now. He nods towards the empty double seat lawn chair on the other side of the campfire from the single ones, a silent question in his eyes. 

Your smile grows, plopping down onto the usually unused lawn chair. Link joins you, draping the blanket over the two of you. The afternoon was getting colder, and the rain certainly wasn’t helping, but the blanket was a welcome change. 

Soon, the two cups of tea were warm enough to be technically considered ‘brewed’. You sit with a book in your lap, occasionally taking a sip from your mug. You turn the page, continuing to quietly read aloud to Link. He was listening intently, leaning back, and relaxing. 

You take another sip, continuing to read on as a gentle breeze brushed past. For a moment, it felt as though there was no apocalypse at all. That the two of you were just sitting by the campfire, enjoying nature after a long day on a camping trip. You can’t help but wonder if you and Link would’ve ever grown this close if the apocalypse didn’t thrust the two of you together. You don’t dwell on the thought too long, as you’re startled out of it and the reading by a sudden weight on your shoulder. 

You look over, noticing that the other boy had fallen asleep, his cheek resting against you. His hair was messy as always, his breathing slow and relaxed. His eyes were shut, the look on his face almost uncharacteristically peaceful. You can’t help but feel the corners of your lips quirk up at the rare sight. You lean back, adjusting yourself to be a little more comfortable for both of you, and continue reading. You know that the sun will begin setting soon, and you’ll have to wake him up, but for now, he can sleep.

(A/N: Shorter chapter. I know, I’m sorry. Happy New Year’s, everyone!)

Chapter Text

Chapter 6

Your baseball bat connects with the zombie’s head with a crack. Your heart races in your chest as you take another swing. The infected stumbles backwards into one of its buddies, causing a domino effect among the group. 

You glance behind your shoulder. Link had ditched his handgun in favor of a shiny, new axe the two of you had stolen from the school. You had deemed it a little too heavy for you, but he’s dealing with it just fine. Unlike the situation the two of you had gotten yourselves into. 

Let’s go to the abandoned mall , you said. It’ll be fun! You said. 

And now, the two of you were cornered in the back of what used to be a Hot Topic. Could’ve been worse, you suppose. One of the zombies attempts to get up, but you whack it over the head with a baseball bat again. Your eyes dart towards the door off on the side, reaching for the handle while you still have the time. By some miracle, it’s not locked. 

You stumble across the doorstep of the back room, spinning on your heel the moment your brain makes the connection. You grab your companion by the arm, pulling him inside, and slam the door shut in the faces of the undead. Your hand fumbles with the lock, finally getting it to turn fully. 

It’s a bit cramped in the messy storage room, and mildly claustrophobic, but there’s got to be a second exit somewhere nearby.

“So much for an adventure…” you sigh, turning towards the other boy, who remains unscathed. 

Link shoots you a look of ‘I told you so,’ that you often shared between each other when one of your wild ideas went awry. 

“Hey,” you huff in annoyance, nudging his arm. Albeit, both of you were aware there was never any actual malice there from either side. 

His expression softens, nudging you back, and then turning his attention towards the hall of broken shelves, and raided boxes. You follow after Link, stepping carefully through the debris. The mess of scattered and broken items and grime was something you were used to at this point.  

The back room looks to be barren of any life forms aside from spiders, which was a good sign. It’s not too long before the two of you find the door, but when Link tries the knob, it doesn’t budge. He exhales a sigh, stepping aside to allow you to pass. You brush past him in the small walkway, digging through your pockets to find some extra lock picks. Link remains just behind you, making sure that nothing that had gone unnoticed prior comes stumbling in through the corridor. 

You kneel in front of the door, beginning to work at the lock. In a few minutes, you try it again, and the door swings open. Freedom!

You step outside gingerly, scanning the long forgotten halls of the mall for any zombies. Nothing, for now. Link closes the door after him, scanning around the space as well. 

“Hey, is that Build-A-Bear?” You point out, glancing between the store, and your companion. 

Link follows your gaze, only to give you a ‘[Name], we’re not bringing any more stuffed animals home’ look, much to your utter devastation. Killjoy. 

The two of you continue wandering around the abandoned mall, picking up a few more clothing items, scraps of food that has yet to go bad, and you even treat yourself to a Lego set to take home. FOR FREE! The joys of the apocalypse. 

The two of you make your way up onto the rooftop. It’s colder up here, a little windier, but it’s a nice view. The sun is bright, the clouds are few, but puffy and perfect for cloud-gazing. 

Link offers you a hand up, and you accept it, stepping past him onto the flat surface. You find a nice spot up on the edge, pulling one of the new jackets you stole from a sports store out of your backpack, and spreading it out over the cold stone for insulation. It’s nice up here, albeit a little high up…

Link joins you, your legs dangling over the edge of the building. He digs into pocket, something inside rustling loudly. He pulls out a back of crackers, offering you one first before taking one for himself. You study the one you had taken. The corners had broken off, but there was no sign of mold. 

It’s salty, and definitely beats the canned foods you have for breakfast and dinner. You look up at the sky, basking in the lukewarm rays of sunshine. If only it wasn’t so cold outside. 

“You know, I wish we had a pool around here somewhere,” you muse. The river nearby was good and all, but you couldn’t swim in it, too shallow. On the other hand, it was too cold for just about anything anymore. 

“Do you think it’ll snow this year?” You ask, not really expecting a response. You were used to talking for both of you. “What are we going to do if it does? It’ll be too cold to go out for too long.” 

Snowfall would be a major problem. No supply runs, potential electrical problems, and who knew how the undead would react with it. Would they freeze? Would that even kill them for good? Did you two even have enough time to survive for however long the snow persisted. 

“Are we just going to be forced to hibernate for however long the snow stays?” You ask, turning to Link. “Do you know where people get that fancy salt they toss all over the road and stuff? Can we use regular salt?” 

Salt was plentiful in most general stores, but would it be enough? Link looks back at you, a softer expression on his face. He didn’t know any more than you did, but the two of you had survived this long. What was one more challenge? With some hope, perhaps the Goddess will smile upon the two of you yet again. 

He offers you another cracker, and you accept it, enjoying the small treat. 

“You know, I’m surprised we haven’t gone crazy and torn each other apart yet,” you joke, earning a smile from Link. 

You loved whenever he smiled at something you said. You only wish he’d talk a little more, but you wouldn’t force it. 

Once the two of you get home, you pull the large Lego box out of Link’s backpack with mild struggle. Aside from whatever board games the two of you managed to swipe out of random abandoned stores, there wasn’t a ton of entertainment inside the base. At the moment, though, you felt like a child with a new toy on their birthday. 

You drop the box onto the floor, waiting impatiently for Link to get over here already. He plops next to you, scissors in his hand. He pulls the box over, cutting the tape off the sides. Turning the box upside down, a few bags filled with tiny pieces spill out, including an instruction manual. 

Hours pass by quickly, and by the end of it, you’ve got a masterpiece. A whole castle — in complete glory, except for the back, open in order to allow room for play. 

“Ah, so I ’m not allowed to bring home another stuffed animal, but you can drag a whole giant Lego set back home. I see how it is,” you tease, a lighthearted smile on your face as you elbow Link’s arm playfully. 

He pretends to be annoyed, but you can see right through it, and the subtle spark of playfulness in his cerulean eyes.

“But seriously,” you say, glancing back at him. “You think we’ll be alright for the winter?” 

Link meets your gaze, stoic and calm and collected as always. Your cupboard was overflowing with long-lasting and canned food currently, and you’d be able to make it through the winter fine, but what about after that? You’d already raised pretty much everything within close vicinity of the safe house, and had to wander further and further out for supply runs. But how long would that last? Food wasn’t renewable. It would end eventually. This wasn’t a sustainable way of living, and in the back of your mind, you knew that one day, if you two weren’t killed first, you’d be forced out of the safe house and have to move somewhere else with more supplies. 

The problem was, where?

Chapter Text

Chapter 7

You look up at the large building — one of those giant general stores where you could find just about anything you’d ever want, but you had to pay for a membership card first. Not you two, though, because anyone who would be regulating that had left a long time ago. 

You weren’t sure if you’d find anything useful here, since this was likely one of the first places people flocked to for supplies when the outbreak began, but it was worth a shot, as always. 

You come up to the large window, scanning the ground for any sizable rocks, but Link finds one first. He winds up the throw, but when it hits the glass, instead of shattering it, the large stone just bounces off. Both of you duck, covering your heads with your arms instinctively. The stone breezes over Link’s head, hitting the ground behind the two of you. You uncover your head, your eyes darting over to the glass, showing a few cracks, but remaining otherwise undamaged. 

“Uhm…” you hum out, rising and walking up to the window. It may be less tedious to try to find another way in. 

The building is large and cavernous, with many nooks and crannies under the debris where supplies could be hiding. You click your flashlight on, looking around. There are a few straggler zombies huddled off in a corner, but they haven’t noticed the two of you yet. You sneak after Link in the opposite direction, deciding not to bother them. First and foremost, the two of you needed to find hand warmers, thermoses, and preferably some matches and/or lighters. 

It’s hard to see, let alone try to find anything in the debris and semidarkness, but you’ll try regardless. You begin your search, eyes scanning over the ground, and the half-destroyed shelves. There’s a lot of things as usual, but you needed to pick out what was actually needed, and what was in the best conditions. You were looking for something specific this time. 

Wandering deeper in, and attempting to ignore the stench of rotten flesh and expired food, you continue your search. Your eyes train onto something on the ground. You kneel, reaching for the plastic object — an ice pack. Not what you were looking for, but it may be good in the summer. 

You rise, stepping carefully through the debris. You spot a box of hand warmers on the shelf, lying on its side. 

“Link!” You whisper-shout to get his attention, lifting the box up off the shelf. Maybe there were more somewhere nearby. 

You carefully brush aside the other boxes of things that had fallen to the floor, searching for more, while he moves on, keeping close, but continuing looking. You rip the box open, checking to make sure that it actually had something viable in there. They looked okay, but you couldn’t know until you actually decide to use one, but there was no need for the hand warmers yet. 

You swing your backpack off your shoulder, and drop the hand warmers inside. You sift around a bit more, finding a few other boxes, one of which was ripped open already, but there were still a few packs inside, so you pocket those. 

The two of you continue on with your search, separating, but never wandering too far away from one another. You find a lighter, but there’s no luck with matches, which is a shame. You also stumble upon a perfectly functional box cutter, though you’re not sure how much you actually need it. 

You pick it up, peeking into the nearby aisle to see where Link had gone off to, but it seems that a zombie beat you to him. 

It hobbles down the aisle, letting out a ravenous groan that gets Link’s attention. He takes a few steps back, his eyes meeting yours for a moment. You sneak after the zombie, pulling out your baseball bat, and taking a swing at its head. The zombie crashes into the shelf at its side, tumbling down, and taking a few products along with it.  

Your heart drops into your feet, however, as you hear another noise behind you. When you whip around, you find another zombie there, its hands reaching out to grab at you. 

You take your baseball bat into both hands, one at each end, using it as a barricade. The undead’s mouth hangs open, the jaw dislocated, a foul, rotten aroma exuding out of it. Its eyes are swollen and white, almost entirely blind, and it’s enough to make your stomach churn. 

Luckily, you aren’t forced to look at it for very long, as a shot rings out, and the zombie drops dead, ceasing its grip. Link follows up with another shot, but his handgun just clicks, out of ammo. You’re not sure if you should be grateful, or feel extremely lucky. Link was an excellent shot, but dang, you were right there. 

“You okay?” You whisper, coming over to him. He nods, looking down at his weapon of choice, before pocketing it with a sigh. He looks up at you, making sure you’re alright as well, which you confirm with a nod. 

“I think there’s a sports store nearby,” you suggest with a small smile. “They should have more ammo there. Maybe we’ll even find you another gun.”

The large general store was a moderate success, but maybe the sports store would be better. At least, if there wasn’t a whole horde of zombies out in the parking lot. You and Link peek over the edge of one of the cars, and watch the spread out group. Just going into the store, with its sliding glass doors shattered, wasn’t ideal. You’re going to need a distraction. 

You dig into your pocket, pulling out a few firecrackers. Though, they wouldn’t be much of a distraction for long. 

“I could distract them while you sneak into the store,” you offer, turning to your companion. There were a lot of taller cars around that you could climb up on. 

Link frowns disapprovingly at the offer, looking around the large amount of scattered undead. 

“Link, come on,” you urge. “We don’t have all day. I’ll be fine, you go.” 

The other boy ponders the situation for a few seconds longer, and then exhales a defeated sigh. You drop your backpack from your shoulders, handing it over to him. He gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze, and then sneaks away from you, diving behind the abandoned vehicles. You wait until he’s close to the store before peeking out again, searching for a suitable spot to climb up on that would be mostly safe. 

You spot a blue van that’s a reasonable distance away. You’ll have to be careful with zombies trying to climb up from the front, but they’re fairly brainless and slow to react anyway. 

You zigzag past a few lone walkers, and toss the firecrackers between the larger group, and the van. You stick around only for long enough to ignite them. You pull yourself up onto the roof of the van, watching the zombies crowd around the exploding firecrackers. You grip your baseball bat tightly. The zombies may be distracted for now, but their attention will turn to you, soon. 

“Hey!” You call out, waving your arm up in the air, attempting to get the group’s attention. Zombies had poor eyesight, but they were attracted by movement. You hop up in place a few times, watching as the undead lose interest in the burnt out firecrackers, and turn their attention to you instead. “Brainless! Get over here!” 

Your eyes flicker over to the store. No signs of Link. Well, no matter. You’ve got a job to do. 

The zombies mostly clear out the parking lot, huddling up by the van. You keep yourself away from the edge, and their raised hands, clawing for any piece of your flesh they can try and manage to reach. You’re careful with where you set your feet, not particularly wanting to get yanked off and gnawed alive. 

A zombie attempts to lift itself up onto the hood of the van, but given its decaying body, and poor coordination, it’s not hard to knock it back off, sending it flying into a few of its other friends. 

Your eyes dart towards the storefront, searching for your companion, but he’s nowhere to be found. Hopefully, he’s inside by now, or you’re doing all of this for nothing. You continue on with distracting the undead, keeping yourself in the middle of the van, and occasionally giving one or two of them a bap on the head if they get a little too close. 

You knock a few of them away like dominos, but in the process, the ones that were standing off to the sides bump into the van, causing it to rock to the side. 

“Whoa-“ you lower yourself to a crouch. The last thing you wanted was to lose your balance and go toppling down. 

There must’ve been a particularly intelligent zombie in the group however, as this time, it rammed into the van intentionally, sending it rocking again. This was going to be a problem. 

You swing your bat again, knocking a few more of the infected away, but it’s not much use as others join in shaking the van. Fear floods into your stomach anew, and you know you’ve got to do something about this, and quick. 

“LINK,” you call out, hoping to get his attention so that both of you could retreat before you were thrown off your tree to the gators. 

You notice something vaguely blonde dart past the window, and you take that as all you need to turn tail. 

You toss your baseball bat down, and wait for the shaking to cease more or less before diving down after it. You hit the ground with a roll, your layered clothes taking most of the impact. Your side hurts a bit, but now’s not the time to focus on it. You scramble for your baseball bat, picking yourself up onto your feet, and making distance between you and the horde. Link rushes up to you a few seconds later, his axe in his hand. 

He pulls you forward, pointing towards where he’d dropped your backpack. You grab one of the shoulder straps, find it quite a bit heavier than you’re used to. 

“What’d you stuff into this thing? Rocks?” You joke out of mild panic, swinging it onto your shoulders again. 

The two of you turn tail, running until you’re a safe distance away up on a nice, high rooftop. You drop down into a crouch, resting your limbs, and catching your breath. Link sticks by you, lowering himself as well. 

“Did you find any ammo?” You ask, sliding your backpack off, and setting it aside. 

Link nods, and pulls your backpack over to himself. He unzips it, and reaches a hand in, sifting for something specific. You cock your head to the side, raising a curious brow. 

From your backpack, Link retrieves a brand new handgun, a little dusty, but sleek and black. He shows it off to you, and then offers you the handle. It takes you a few seconds to process that this is for you.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8

You watch as yet another foam dart breezes past the empty can that once held mixed greens. You’d think that your utter hatred for them would’ve helped you, yet alas. It was a good thing that the two of you had decided to have you practice with a nerf gun first. You’d be a total waste of any real bullets. But, you were making progress. The hand gun had been a nice gift, but it was more Link’s thing anyway. You were beginning to miss your baseball bat, but you knew that it was good to have something long range, too. 

You take aim again, adjusting your arm, and wait. Link had said to only shoot on empty lungs, but now you were hyper aware of your breathing, and it made things only more complicated. You pull the trigger, and this time, the can falls off the kitchen island. You smile, allowing yourself the victory, but if it was a zombie, you would’ve probably been eaten by now. 

The sound of the trapdoor opening draws your attention up to the ceiling. Link drops in, closing the trapdoor behind him. He’s shivering, his expression mixed. 

“Hey,” you greet, adjusting your aim, shooting a foam dart to his knee. 

It bounces off, doing absolutely zero harm. Link glances at it, and raises a brow at you. He picks it up, and tosses it back to you. You catch the dart, returning your gaze back to the empty cans that stood in a line on the kitchen island. Link wanders off into the kitchen, and begins looking through the cabinets for something. He doesn’t find what he’s looking for in the first one, closing it, and looking into the second next. He kneels down, producing a large jug water bottle. At one point, it did hold water, but not anymore. Nonetheless, it could still easily be used for storage. 

“What’re you going to do with that?” You ask, not really expecting an answer. 

Link grabs the empty thing, and returns back to the trapdoor, nodding in its direction. He turns to you expectantly, silently asking you to accompany him. 

You leave the nerf gun on the table, and grab a jacket for extra warmth. The winds were relentless, making the cold worse both outside, and inside the safe house. You’ve been making steady preparations for the winter that had probably already hit, but it was barely enough to really fight off the chill. 

You follow Link out through the trapdoor, and down to the river in the woods behind the safe house. The water’s freezing cold, but it hasn’t turned to ice yet. Link fills the jug up with the water, and you help him haul it back home. The two of you had discussed what you’re going to do about the winter, and how you’re going to fend off the weather. You won’t be able to go on supply runs as often, at least once the snow falls. You’ll have to barricade yourselves somehow. Tape up the edges of the windows, doors, and the trapdoor. 

The two of you take the time to boil it, before you lower the heavy jug down into the base, and Link takes it, moving it into the bathroom, and empties the water into the bathtub. In a few more trips, you may have a decent supply of water, especially if you also take the time to fill up some pots and kettles. It’s not great, but it’ll have to do. You’ll get more water once you gather snow and melt it. You weren’t sure how safe it was, but what’s the worst that could happen? A stomach bug for a few days? Desperate, apocalyptic times called for desperate, apocalyptic measures. 

In any case, hopefully the snow wipes out some zombies. Link and you had already begun to notice a general decrease of them out in the streets. So long as they hadn’t also grown smart enough with their decayed brains to go huddle up together in some building, the spring might just be easier for you two. 

Your preparations continue for the next few days. You and Link were walking down on the road for once. There were no zombies around, but you still felt exposed somehow, down on the ground. Link is also on edge, glancing around, looking for some undead to suddenly jump out at you at any given moment. You’d hit jackpot on the latest supply run — a water filter! You haven’t seen any of those since forever. If it worked, the two of you wouldn’t have to worry about the safety of even boiled water anymore. 

Unfortunately, nature had its own plans. 

“Is that…snow?” You halt, and gaze up at the sky. 

Fluffy, white particles were beginning to fall. You reach your hand out, allowing a few snowflakes to fall onto your dark gloves. Snow.  

You smile, looking up again. It’d been a while since Central Hyrule had gotten any snow. Your eyes fall onto Link, his expression a little lighter. Though not for long. 

In what seems like a matter of a few minutes, the winds pick up, and so does the snow. It’s hard to see, the skyline white and misty with snowfall. You pull your hood over your head, a hat no longer enough. Nuzzling your face into the collar of your jacket for warmth, you grab onto Link’s arm. The last thing you needed now was to lose him in this white plain. 

The two of you stop, looking around for familiar landmarks you’re able to make out through the frost. 

“I thought snow storms were a Hebra thing,” you call out to your companion, speaking over the wind, which only seemed to pick up out of spite. You take your baseball bat into your hand, ready to swing in case of anything. You can barely look up to see what was in front of you. 

Link’s hand is raised in front of his face, attempting to shield his face from the snow. The two of you continue on at a snail’s pace, hoping you don’t accidentally miss the safe house. It’s cold, and all you can do is pull yourself closer to your companion, and look around, attempting how far away the two of you are. 

But the area doesn’t look right. This isn’t the path back home. 

“Hey,” you pull Link back, bringing the two of you to a halt amidst the space that steadily grew whiter, threatening to swallow the two of you as well, if you didn’t move swiftly. “I don’t think this is right…” 

Link pauses, scanning the area. A frown comes over his features, his mind beginning to doubt the route as well. 

You let go of his arm, digging into your pocket for the compass. The glass is cracked at the top, but it’s perfectly functional. The two of you watch the pointed spin, coming to a stop somewhere northwest. You had probably passed the safe house by accident. Drat. 

You turn, looking around, but find only the faint outlines of buildings. Fear settles in your chest. You’re lost. Lost in the middle of this ghostly, white town, where the snow will bury you if you don’t find your way back. 

Link’s hand finds yours again, a bit of warmth radiating through the gloves. You have to keep moving. 

“There’s that pizza place,” you point to the old, half-broken sign hanging over the storefront up ahead. “I think we’re on the wrong street.” 

Link and you make your way slowly into the alleyway, coming out on the other side of the building. It’s similarly easy white and windy here, but nonetheless, you keep walking. Link tugs on your hand to get your attention, pointing towards another abandoned storefront, some clothing place. Yes, this looks more familiar. 

The two of you continue on down the street, your hopes rising as you begin to recognize the place more and more. You round the corner of another alleyway, and finally come onto the street that you’ve seen hundreds of times before. Only a few feet away stands your base. Link separates from you, kneeling down beside the side of the building next to it to boost you up. It’s not slippery yet, the snow only falling. You reach your hand back down, and help Link up to you. From there, it's easy to get back up onto the familiar roof. Link opens up the trapdoor, and you follow him through it, close it shut, and lock it after you. Link moves to change into something warmer and dryer, but you remain by the trapdoor for a few minutes longer. You grab a roll of duct tape, and seal the trapdoor around the edges, allowing no air to wash in through the cracks. 

A few hours later, you lie wrapped up in a few blankets, warm, your stomach full. It’s dark out, mostly just due to the snowfall and clouds. Your watch still says 5:28 pm. 

Link lies next to you, messing around with a Rubix cube to occupy the time. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to drift off to sleep earlier than you usually would. Your only wish is that the next morning, neither you, nor Link, wakes up with a cold. 

Your sleep isn't an easy one. It hasn’t been for a while, but at least you catch some rest. At a point, you wake up to the familiar, dim room, and the sound of someone’s muffled snoring. Light creeps into the room through the cracks between the boards on the window. You sit up, keeping a few blankets close to you for warmth, and pull yourself to the windowsill. The world outside is white as you’ve never seen it before.

Chapter Text

Christmas Special!

Snow had fallen over the city, as though yet another curse to add to the existing ones. It had been a few days. Or weeks. You couldn’t tell anymore. You’d be excited for the snow any other time, but now, Link and you were stuck in your bunker, basically hibernating until the snow melted, and it got warmer so that you could go out on supply runs again without paranoia about hungry zombies buried beneath the snow. 

It was also stupid cold. The base had poor heating due to generally poor electricity. You couldn’t afford to get sick, so Link and you remained buried beneath the warm blankets, re-emerging mostly only for food and water. 

You didn’t know what month it was. Perhaps it is December now. Maybe New Year’s had already passed. Regardless, you began to think. Obviously, Santa Claus wasn’t going to come drop off any gifts, but that didn’t mean that you couldn’t have a little holiday cheer, apocalypse or not. 

Link is fast asleep, curled up in twisted blankets on the mattress on the floor. You lie next to him, your mind beginning to think. You doubted that Link would really allow you to head out on your own, but he’d also begun coughing a bit recently. His temperature wasn’t high, and he insisted that his throat felt fine, but this could be a good opportunity. 

It was still early in the morning. You lazily pull yourself out of bed. Doubling down on thermal clothing, you pull on your shoes, and some anti-slip gloves. A sleepy groan sounds from the other side of the room. You turn, finding Link slowly coming to, his blonde hair perhaps the worst bedhead you’ve ever seen. He sits up groggily, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. 

“Good morning,” you smile, coming up to the mattress and sitting down beside him. 

He hums a greeting in response, and a yawn follows. Link’s brows furrow in confusion when he notices that you’re dressed, and seemingly ready to head out. 

“I’m not going very far, I promise. I just want to go look for some medicine, and maybe some other things,” you explain quickly while he’s still half asleep. “It’s just to the general store down the road, and then I’ll be back. I’ll be so careful.” 

Link frowns, obviously not a fan of any such thing, but he was interrupted by coughing. It sounded worse than it actually was, but nonetheless, he was going to stay in bed whether he liked it or not. 

“I’ll be back soon, I promise,” You repeat, press a quick kiss to the top of his head, and begin to slowly unlock the trapdoor. You’re careful with the snow that had been swept onto it by the winds, brushing it aside the best you can, before climbing through. 

It’s cold outside, but your thermal layers protect you decently. If you’re quick, you may be able to avoid catching a cold. So, you start to carefully make your way across to the other roof, praying to Hylia that you won’t slip on unseen ice. It’s a relatively short way over to the store where you could’ve sworn you saw fairy lights before. If you could plug them to a generator…oh, it’d be a show! 

You make your way in through a broken window, being mindful of the glass. Retrieving a flashlight from your pocket, you click it on, and look around. The coast is clear, for now, aside from one straggler zombie who’d wandered out of the nearby aisle. Your breath stills. You had hoped that the freezing cold and ice would wipe them all out, but here one was, coated in naturally-grown frost. You strap your flashlight to your shoulder, and get out your baseball bat. Your feet step lightly across the debris littering the ground, following after the unsuspecting undead. It stops in its tracks, finally sensing some other presence around, but you’re much quicker. 

You take a swing, and the baseball bat connects with the zombie’s head with a loud crack. The thing stumbles to the ground, dazed in its confusion, and you bring the bat down on it once more. The sight is gruesome, so you try not to look for too long. The apocalypse had taken much of your humanity away from you, but you were still digging your claws into whatever little semblance of it you had left. Or at least trying to. 

You continue deeper into the abandoned store, looking for what you need. You do, actually, find some medicine, and stuff it into your backpack, but your mind is elsewhere. Lights…lights…ornaments… 

Finally, you find your way to the holiday aisle. Or, rather, what remained of it. 

“Link.”

You shook the boy’s shoulder, attempting to wake him up. It was a truly perilous task, that required nothing short of utmost patience and dedication. Absolutely not for the weak. 

Link slept like a rock. Always. You’ve tested it many times while stuck inside because of the snow. What other source of entertainment did you have? Reading? Drawing? The boy could sleep through a natural disaster if he so felt like it. 

“Link.” You repeat, shaking him more insistently. 

He groans, swatting your hand away, and rolls over. You huff, but just shake him more. Any other day, you would’ve left him alone, but not now. 

“Hey,” you try again. “Come on, wake up.” 

With another displeased groan, his heavy eyes finally open, and he looks up at you, half out of it. 

“Good morning. Now come on, get dressed,” you greet him with an excited smile. “I wanna show you something.” 

Link, with great reluctance, rolls out of bed, his hair and clothing a mess. He yawns, walking over to the wardrobe, and groggily pulls on some thermal clothing for the weather. 

It was beginning to get dark, but not so dark as to make you worried over anything. Now was the perfect time. 

You pull Link out of the safe house, and march him over to the town square, making sure there were no other frosted zombies around. You were not about to have this ruined. 

“You’ll love it, I promise,” you say, walking him over to a generator. 

You pull start the generator, and watch as it roars to life, not loud enough to attract too much unwanted attention. In the middle of the town square, the large Christmas tree flickers for a moment, and then alights in different colors. 

The tall tree is decorated in various ornaments to the best of your ability, yet much of the top remains, alas, bare, since you couldn’t reach that high from any nearby platforms. 

Nonetheless, it dances in multicolored lights, a few half-frozen zombies tangled up in its lower branches. 

“Do you like it?” You ask, turning to Link. 

Colors dance across his face, illuminated softly by the fairy lights. His lips are parted gently as he stares out at the tree, surprised and mesmerized. Your smile softens, and a subtle heat rises to your cheeks when he turns to you. He smiles. Link likes it. 

“Wait, wait, that’s not all!” You replied, taking his hand, and pulling him closer to the base. You’ll probably need a quick escape after this. 

The two of you stop in front of a firework. You let go of Link digging a match out of your pocket. He takes a few extra steps back, knowing that the moment this thing explodes, you’ll only have a few good seconds before zombies come running towards the noise, if there were any runners left who have endured the cold. Nonetheless, for the sake of the passed holidays, you’re willing to fire off one firework. 

You light the fuse, backing off to stand next to Link. The firework shoots up into the sky, a tail of ash following after it. It explodes in bright spots of orange and green against the backdrop of the dark, starry void. 

The two of you look up as the specks of color begin to fall back down, and you’re forced to tear your eyes away when Link tugs on your arm, beginning to pull you back to the safety of the safe house. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 10

In all your hopes of not having to take care of a sickly companion, you had, accidentally, placed the curse upon yourself instead. 

A few days later, you wake up to an aching pain in your throat whenever you swallow. You pull the blankets closer around yourself, attempting to maintain warmth trapped within them. You know you should get up and go get yourself some medicine, but you just don’t want to. Your limbs feel heavy, and you’ll be cold if you get out of bed. 

You close your eyes again, hoping to just go to sleep, and wake up again when your throat has magically cured itself and everything is fine again. You try not to swallow, not wanting to provoke your throat further. 

When you wake up again, though, it’s only worse. Your throat’s still sore, and it hurts more. You pull the blankets closer around yourself, desperate to keep the warmth that’s escaping from you. Your eyes scan over the heap of blankets to the side of you, noticing that Link was missing. Usually, you would drag yourself out of bed to say good morning, but right now, you really didn’t want to. 

So, Link came over to greet you himself. 

He returned back to your side from somewhere else in the base, and climbed back under the covers. He scooped a spoonful of something into his mouth, before offering the can to you. You look down at the contents, sliced potatoes. You grimace. Cold, chunky potatoes? Was Link trying to kill you? 

Link raises a brow, cocking his head to the side. Potatoes were probably one of the least disgusting canned foods you two currently had in the pantry. He stares at you for a few moments, analyzing you with his usual silence. Then, he reaches out, gently pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. You don’t bother to pull away. Despite the fact that you detest the awful-tasting medicine you know you’re going to have to drink, you already miss the feeling of a healthy throat. 

Link pulls his hand back with furrowed brows, and you confess, “throat’s sore.” 

Your companion sighs, and gets up. You look over your shoulder, your eyes following him as he walks into the bathroom, and disappears from sight, digging through your medical supplies for some cold medicine.

He returns shortly, holding a bottle of cold medicine, some cough drops, and a thermometer. He gives you the thermometer first, which you click on, and stick into your mouth. Maybe if your temperature isn't too high, he’s not going to make you drink that medicine. 

The thermometer begins to beep, and Link takes it back, looking down at the numbers on the small screen with a frown. Looks like you’re out of luck. Link reaches for the flu medicine, much to your utter dismay. His eyes flicker to yours, noticing the look on your face. An amused smile curves his lips, but he quickly gives you a look of sympathy instead. Of course he’s amused, he’s not sick, and have to deal with the torture of modern cold medicine. 

He checks that the medicine still seems fine, and hasn’t gone bad yet, before pouring you some into the cap, and extending the colored syrup to you. You give him a glare as you push yourself up into a sitting position, but suck it up, and take the cap. Despite its deceptive, cherry-red color, you know the horrors that it holds— 

Link sighs, watching you ponder over the medicine, giving you an impatient look. Despite the fact that you’re both stuck in the safe house, with no reason to try to go anywhere while the snow is still out, he does not have the time for this. 

You glance up at him, but you know it’s for the better, so you decide not to act like a child. You raise it up closer to yourself. The aroma is awful, already making you grimace before the liquid even touches your lips. And on top of the fact that this thing will taste awful, it’s also ice cold. You take a deep breath, and take it like a shot. It’s awful, but it’s over soon. You take a few deep breaths as Link hands you a bottle of water. 

He takes the cap from you, and moves the medicine out of your sight. For now. You watch Link open the door to the pantry, sifting through it for something that would be more suitable as food for, probably something more liquid based. He returns back to you with a few different options, and you pick out the one you like best. Link nods, placing that one on the counter, and puts the others away. Without a word of explanation, he dons on a few extra layers, grabs the canned soup, and unseals the trapdoor. You pull the blankets closer around yourself, hiding your nose as a gust of frigid wind makes its way inside the base. You watch him climb through, and close the door after himself. Where was he going? 

Some time later, the trapdoor opens again, and Link drops back through, a thermos, and a sealed bowl of soup in his hand. He closes the trapdoor, handing you the bowl first. You accept it, feeling the heat through the ceramic bottom.  He really bothered heating this up for you? 

“You didn’t have to, you know,” you say, looking up at your companion while he tapes the edges of the trapdoor back up. 

He glances at you, expression softening subtly. He fetches you a spoon from the kitchenette before going to change out of the cold layers. What you didn’t realize, though, is that his motives are not entirely altruistic. Once he reappears and digs himself back under the warm covers of your makeshift bed, it becomes abundantly clear — he’s cold, and he wants your soup!  

Link scoots closer to you, his eyes on the bowl. You shovel a few more spoonfuls into your mouth before you notice. Your eyes narrow, glancing between the soup, and him. 

“You know, you could’ve at least grabbed yourself a second spoon. If you use this one, you’re gonna catch whatever I have,” you attempt to reason with him. He looks up at you, and then back at the soup, and the spoon in your hand. His eyes trail to the kitchenette, but he’s already settled in the warm bed, and he’s lazy. 

“Well, suit yourself…” you shrug, continuing to eat the warm soup. Man, you missed warm food so much. If it weren’t for the scarcity of electricity as it was, you two would’ve gotten a microwave by now, or even a rice cooker. For now, if you really wanted to warm something up, you’d have to use the campfire up on the roof. 

You finish the soup, or just about all you can, and hand the bowl off to Link, who reluctantly gets out of bed, and takes it to the kitchen. He leaves your spoon in the sink to wash later, and grabs himself another one to finish off what was left in the bowl. You, in the meantime, take a cough drop out of the bag, and lie back down, snuggling into the blankets. With your throat momentarily frozen, the pain stops. You close your eyes. It was cold, and you wanted little more than just to sleep it all off until spring came, but unfortunately, hylians don’t hibernate. 

You feel the blankets behind you move. Link had come back, slipping back into the only warmth in the base. With gentle contact, his hand falls onto your shoulder. You don’t pay much mind to it, until it begins to migrate towards your hair, carefully tucking a stray lock behind your ear, almost skittish that you’d notice it.

You wake up to an itch in your throat, and you don’t have very much time to come to naturally, as the coughing starts. It sounds like you’re on your deathbed, but your throat actually feels a bit better now. You push yourself away from where you remember your companion being last, stuffing your face into your elbow to muffle the coughing. When it ceases, and you look up, your eyes meet Link’s, looking down at you in concern. He’s sitting up against the wall, a book in his lap. Seems like you hadn’t actually been asleep for that long.

“It sounds worse than it is,” you attempt to reassure, earning you a bemused look from him. 

You reach for a bottle of water, but find a thermos in its stead instead. You sit up and pop it open, to be met with hot air. Link must’ve warmed up some water for you, too. You take a sip gingerly, uncertain of how hot the water really is. It helps soothe your throat more, not to mention return some warmth to your body. You close the thermos after your thirst is satiated, glancing at Link again. 

“Thank you,” you smile, and he returns it. You scoot a little closer to him, eyes falling onto the book in his lap. Looks like some comics, or something of the sort. “What’re you reading?” 

He flips it over to show you the cover — it’s a fantasy comic you’ve never heard of before. 

“Is it good?” You ask, your gaze rising back up to meet Link’s. His smile widens, and he nods, before returning back to his reading. You reach over behind you, and grab another cough drop, unwrapping it before settling back into the mismatched sea of blankets, next to your companion. 

A headache gets the better of you some time later, and there you rest, with a damp hand towel over your forehead to soothe the pain. Link lies beside you, propped up onto an elbow, a monopoly board between the two of you. 

“I can’t tell if you’re genuinely bad at this, or if you’re just letting me win because I’m sick,” you tease him lightheartedly. 

Your eyes meet, a playful glint in Link’s that you’re not quite used to. The boy shrugs, holding back a smile. You sigh, shaking your head. Of course.  

Come nightfall, the temperatures drop below freezing again. Both of you are used to it by now, but that doesn’t mean you like weaving yourselves into blanket cocoons just to stay warm. You had just settled comfortably when you feel a hand on your shoulder, shaking you gently. 

You roll over, looking at your companion in confusion and mild annoyance, “what?” 

Then, your eyes fall onto the bottle of medicine that Link holds, pushing it towards you with an expectant look. Darn it. You were hoping you could avoid taking that disgusting concoction again, but Link just cares a little too much about your survival. You frown, but don’t bother arguing, forcing yourself to sit up again. It’s for the better. 

Link pours a dose into the cap, and you take it reluctantly. You take it like a shot again to avoid making your body feel any sicker than it already does, and hand your companion back the cap. He places a hand on your shoulder — a small, yet comforting gesture — before giving you some water to get rid of the lingering aftertaste. 

You accept it gratefully, taking a few sips of the warm water from the thermos, before handing it back to Link. He takes a drink as well, just as grateful for some warm water for once. 

Your coughing persists for a few days, but your throat does get better quickly, which you couldn’t be happier about. 

You wake up much earlier than you usually would, but hibernating in the safe house has rather messed with your sleep schedule. You stretch a little, blinking a few more times. Your eyes adjust to the dark, and that’s when you hear what woke you up again — coughing. It sounds just about the same way that you did a few days ago. You roll over, immediately seeing the culprit. 

“Link?” You say, trying to get his attention. “You alright?” 

He sighs wearily, not saying anything. He clears his throat, instead, though that doesn’t sound much better. You reach over, feeling his forehead for a fever. Yep. He’s burning up. Must’ve caught whatever you had. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 11

Sunlight floods in through the cracks in the wooden boards. The world outside is no longer white, yet the chilly winds hadn’t gone away, either. For the first time in what feels like forever, a few birds are chirping outside. 

You stand bent by the window, peeking through the thin lines between the barricades. Birds. You hadn’t seen birds in a lifetime! The outbreak had not only had an impact on Hyruleans, but also the animals. Luckily, it seemed as though animals couldn’t actually get infected, but that might’ve also been because they never lived long enough to fully go through the infection process in the first place. You hadn’t seen any wildlife since a few months into the apocalypse. Even the scavengers were hesitant to touch the undead. 

Link comes up behind you, trying to see through the window as well. He’d donned on a few extra thermal layers too, and was ready to head out. 

“Do you think most of the zombies are dead?” You ask. The last time that you’d seen some were back when you celebrated New Years, and who knows how long ago that was? What month was it? Was it spring yet? How old were the two of you now? How long has it been since the beginning of the outbreak? An eternity. Or so it felt like. 

You knew that not all zombies were probably dead. Some had to have survived. But you could still hope there were way less of them now. 

You step away from the window, and make your way to the trapdoor. Peeling the duct tape away, you unseal it, and push it open. Fresh air. Cold, fresh air. You pull yourself up onto the rooftop, and step away so Link can climb up after you. Sunshine. Warm, yellow sunshine. You look down at your skin. Dirty, and paled. You hadn’t been out in the sun properly in quite some time now. 

You turn to Link, your eyes meeting before the two of you look each other over. This is the first time in a while that the two of you can get a good look at each other out of dim lighting. Link’s skin is similarly pale, grime buried into his cheeks and hands. His hair is darker and longer. The time out of the sun had given it a more dark dirty blonde look, the messy, unkempt locks falling over his shoulders. As a gust of chill runs past you, he notices the same, averting his gaze, and lifts his hands up to pull it back into the usual ponytail. His bangs still seem to be an issue, though, and you make a mental note to yourself to give both of you haircuts later. You know you look just the same as him. 

“Where…” you trail off, ripping your gaze away from your companion to look around. “Do you want to go?” 

You hadn’t gone on any supply runs for a while, and now that you were thinking about it, how has the snow impacted the buildings? The zombies? The scraps? 

You look back to Link, offering, “we could also just go on a walk for now, check things out, take in the damage?” 

He nods, his expression weary, lost, even. Which was a little crazy to think about. Link had always been the stronger out of the two of you. He knew what to do, always. Or, at least he pretended to. However, at this point in the apocalypse, you were pretty capable yourself, and right now, everything was okay. It would be nice to have a manual right about now, though. Or ever. How to survive the Zombie Apocalypse 101 (for Dummies).  

The world was both the loudest, and the quietest it’s ever been. There were no zombies as the cracked cement crunched beneath your shoes. But the birds had returned. You could see little finches dart past the two of you on your walk. You’d even spotted a few vultures diligently tearing apart some carcasses that lay in the alleys. Desperate times for everyone, it seems. It almost felt as though the world was slowly healing, and the zombies were but a big nightmare. 

But you knew it wasn’t. One winter couldn’t have wiped them all out, surely, no matter how nice that would’ve been. And even if the cold wiped them out here, you didn’t know what the conditions were like in other parts of Hyrule. It never snowed in Faron, for instance. Were there still zombies there? What about even just south from here?  You were really beginning to miss the days before the radios went quiet. 

You round a corner when suddenly, Link’s arm shoots out, blocking your path, and bringing both of you to a halt. You are taken out of your thoughts, your eyes flickering to him, and then to the pavement in front of you two. 

A few feet away lies a body, the skin patchy and sunburnt. It doesn’t look particularly human outside of a vague silhouette, and the fact that it has two arms and two legs, but it’s rather bulky, the muscles defined, albeit rotten. 

“What is that?” You whisper, craning your neck in an attempt to get a better look. 

Link takes out his handgun, trained on the body. You get out your baseball bat, your go curling around the familiar material. A nauseating aroma hung around it, making you wish to never smell anything ever again. It was as though something had died, been rolled in manure, and then set aflame. 

As you get closer, you notice more details on the body, the burn marks, the exposed, firm flesh, the lack of hair both on the body, and on the head, and any clothing had been discarded. Whatever it was, it was lying face down. You gingerly creep closer, stopping a safe distance away, and adjust your grip on your baseball bat, holding it by the very end. You glance at Link, who meets your gaze briefly, his handgun aimed at the thing lying on the street. You take a deep breath, gingerly stepping even closer, until you can nudge the body with your baseball bat. You poke it once. It doesn’t react. Probably ( hopefully ) dead. You poke at its head. Still nothing. Finally, you get a better grip on your baseball bat, and roll it over onto its back. 

Both of you jump back, and Link pulls you behind him. But still, the thing doesn’t react. It’s definitely dead. You stalk closer again, a grimace sprouting on your face. The sight is gruesome indeed. You’re not even that that is a face that a mother could love. 

“What the heck is that ?” You question as Link and you come closer. 

The thing is very clearly a zombie, but none that you’ve ever seen before. It looks tougher than most zombies, almost as though the previously decayed skin had somehow found a way to regenerate itself. It definitely wasn’t a Viral. Virals didn’t look like that. They didn’t get such obvious burns on their flesh, and they very often had hair still. Not to mention, their teeth weren’t quite so sharp. They still resembled those of hylians. 

“Do you think this is one of those zombies that come out at night?” You ask Link. He’s walking circles around the zombie, his nose crinkled in disgust. He stops next to you again, pondering the possibility. It sure looked like the one that you two had encountered up on your own rooftop way before winter. 

You get out your journal, flipping back to the page where you had been documenting the infection stages. 

“Could this be stage four?” You muse. After all, this thing looks like its flesh had regenerated itself somehow, and the sunburn must’ve come later. Link half-nodded in agreement, still studying the dead body. 

Stage 3: Walker

Duration: Longest

The victim is no longer conscious, only acting on its instinct to feed. They're much more decayed, slow, and rather dumb, easily distracted if something is tossed their way.

Stage 3.1: Bomber

Duration: Until it explodes

Appearance is yet unknown. Presumably, they sneak up behind the victim, and explode. Nothing aside from blood and chunks of flesh are left behind after it.

Stage 4: Volatile / Nightcrawler

Duration: Unknown

Only come out at night. Their flesh has found a way to regenerate itself in spite of the decay, becoming firmer and stronger in the process, but also severely prone to sunburn. 

“I wonder where they go at dawn,” you point out, looking up from your journal. Link turns towards you, also silently pondering the question. 

“They have to go somewhere,” you continue. “And clearly not just into random buildings, or we would’ve stumbled upon one by now. But if they didn’t go anywhere, then we would probably be finding bodies like these all the time. Do you think they have..?” 

A nest.

“Ugh, no, they’re not dead,” you groan, peering in through one of the windows of the mall that the two of you had been at a few times before for supply runs. “Why are they not dead?” 

You take a step to the side, allowing Link to join you at the window, and look in himself. His brows furrow, not any more pleased with this than you are. 

One of the zombies notices Link and you at the window, and reaches a hand out, staggering forward. Only to practically fall apart within a few steps. Well, nevermind, then.  

“You wanna risk it, and go in there?” You ask Link, a smile blooming on your face once more as you watch another zombie collapse on flat ground. “They’re falling like bowling pins.” 

Maybe this spring will be easier after all. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 12

The weather grew warmer, a true evidence of spring’s arrival, and you’ve pretty much ditched your thermal clothing. Zombies grew fewer than prior to the winter, and wildflowers sprouted up through cracks in the pavement, alongside weeds and grass. With the decrease of zombies, however, you’ve also run into your own problem — food. Supplies were still plentiful back at the base, but Link and you had eaten through a lot of your provisions over the time beneath the snow. 

Since you’ve raided the vast majority of the buildings around your vague radius, that meant that the two of you had to venture out further to get new supplies. Unfortunately, now you also had to be more wary of what you’re scavenging. The last thing either of you needed was to get some sort of poisoning. 

Link and you have found a warehouse — shiny and new, completely undamaged. The problem, though, is that there is no way to get in. There are no windows, no holes in the walls, no cracks in the doors, and the doors themselves were too heavy to try and lift, even together. 

But there were probably good supplies in there, and hopefully no zombies. In any case, there was no sound coming from inside when you pressed your ear to the doors. 

You stared at the doors, debating going to find something else, but curiosity, and a bit of greed, was gnawing at you. Link lifts his axe over his head, and brings it down on the door with a loud clang, but the axe bounces off, leaving behind little more than a scrape and a dent. Link returned back to your side, rubbing his forearms. It looked like the recoil hurt. Nearly fifteen minutes of fruitless labor, trying to find a way in. 

If only you could knock something into the warehouse… You look around, but you don’t have a convenient wrecking ball out in the parking lot, much to your dismay. Across the road, there’s a car dealership, but most cars don’t work anymore, especially those that had been abandoned out on the road. Back when the apocalypse first started, it was rather common to hear a car combust off in the distance for one reason or another. 

Link’s eyes follow yours to the hill of cars that stand unoccupied just across the road. He glances to the doors of the warehouse, a mischievous smile growing on his face. He taps you on the shoulder to get your attention, and points at the cars, and then to the doors. He really wants to ram one of those into them. 

Admittedly, you kind of want to see that, too, but that’s only if you manage to start up one of those cars. 

“You think we’ll be able to find some keys inside?” You ask, looking at the building. They probably did have keys somewhere. No way the workers just kept them. 

You make your way across the road, glancing inside the dealership. There’s the remains of a zombie lying on the floor, but it’s definitely dead, so it should be safe to head inside. The front door is bent in, the lock already broken before your arrival. You click your flashlight on, beginning your search. You hop over the front desk, while Link heads deeper into the restricted area of the store. You sift through the cabinets, but there’s nothing that remotely resembles somewhere they would put a bunch of car keys. You pull one of the drawers open, retrieving some useless documents from it. One of them has a sticky note attached to it, a numeric code written on it. 

“Huh…” you put the papers down on the desk, and beneath them, you spot some car keys.

You pick them up, attached to some keychains and house keys. The label has a Jeep logo on it. They must’ve belonged to someone who used to work here. 

Bang! A loud gunshot echoes  through the store, your head whipping around to the door that led into the back area. What is Link up to now? 

You peek into the back room, finding your companion in front of a steel storage. Link had busted the lock. Maybe that’s what that code was for…

He opens the doors, revealing inside a whole bunch of hanging keys. You peer over his shoulder, looking at all of the brands. 

“So…you got a car preference?” You ask. 

The two of you need something sturdy — a bulkier, tougher car that you could ram the back of into that door — like a Ford, or a Subaru. 

You wander through the rows of cars, multiple sets of keys in hand. There are all sorts of cars still here. Different models, years, faces, shapes, you name it. But the problem was seeing which one still worked. It’d been months since anyone’s driven one of these, and their battery might’ve very well died. You can’t even begin to imagine how you’re going to try and jump-start one of these if all the rest of them have dead batteries, too. 

A bulky, new Subaru sits at the end of the row, looking like it could really take a hit if needed. Link and you sort through all of the different keys, trying to find one that it might react to. Finally, with a press of a button from a set of Link’s keys, the car beeps, signaling its revival. The two of you exchange a look of excitement, and you reach for the driver’s door. You love Link, but you’re not letting him behind the wheel. 

You take the key from him, and climb into the driver’s seat, while he hops into the passenger seat. You fix your seat into a comfortable position, and take the car off of the parking brake, before putting the gear shift into reverse. Lifting your foot off the brake, you feel the car stir. By some miracle, the battery wasn’t dead yet! 

“You got your seatbelt on?” You ask your companion while you pull your own on. Link nods, already buckled in. 

“Great,” you say, twisting your body so that you can see out of the back window as you reverse. You pull out of the parking spot, driving over to the road. The car struggles a little under your control, and a few less than normal sounds emit from it, but so long as it doesn’t blow up upon collision, that’s fine by you. 

You make your way across the road again, and turn the car so its back is facing the warehouse door. You brace yourself, glancing at Link. He doesn’t look like he’s changed his mind, meeting your gaze before looking through the back window again. 

“You should get out,” you tell him. “You know, in case the car decides to blow up upon impact.” 

This car hasn’t been driven in a good few months now, and there’s definitely something that either became wrong with it, or already was even before the apocalypse. It’s a valid concern, and you’d rather at least one of you get the resources from the warehouse. Yet, Link’s brows furrow, and he gives you an offended look for even suggesting such a thing.

You sigh, and put the car in reverse. Without another thought, you slam on the gas.

You flinch at the sound of the metal bending and scraping against the surface of the car. Yet, you're alive! Your eyes meet Link’s, a smile crossing over your face once more — it worked! He returns the smile, glancing into the warehouse through the back window of the car. The coast looks clear, and there’s a bunch of boxes around, untouched. 

“This might be our greatest heist to date,” you joke, putting the car back into drive. “I wish we could clear out all the roads somehow. Imagine if we could drive around town. We’d be able to travel farther and faster, get bigger hauls, hit and run zombies.” 

The car wobbles out from underneath the broken door with some struggle, and you drive it off to the side, before turning it off. Link and you exit the car, taking a moment to cringe at the huge dent that it now had, and pull out your flashlights. Inside the warehouse is dark, but safe. It hasn’t housed any occupants in a while. Inside the boxes, you find all sorts of things — machinery, tools, wood. It’s a shame there’s no food to be found, but you suppose you could always reverse collide with another warehouse door if need be. 

Link and you are packing some tools and materials into your backpacks when you suddenly hear heavy, sporadic breathing. Your ears perk up, and you look up to see a Viral zombie bolting to the two of you. 

You don’t have the time to reach for your bat. It collides into you, throwing you back against the cement floor. Your hands fly up instinctively, grabbing it by the neck, and trying to push the thing off, but it’s ravenous and stubborn. 

Blood splatters over your face, as Link’s axe connects with its head, a sickening crack! echoing through the warehouse. You’re pulled back up onto your feet, yanked outside before it has time to recover. You reach into your pocket, preserving on the unlock button a few times for good measure. 

The car beeps open, and the two of you fly into the backseat, slamming the door shut behind you. The zombie runs into the metal, its grimy hands clawing at the glass. Link had gotten a good hit on it, blood spilling out of a large gash on the side of its head. Nonetheless, it’s a nauseating sight you don’t look too long at. 

You separate from Link, and crawl back into the driver’s seat. Link joins you in the passenger’s, and you make sure that all of the doors are locked shut. The zombie moves with you, screaming and clawing at the glass. It begins hitting the window, but the glass remains strong still. For now. After that previous collision, you’re not sure how long that will last. 

You switch the car into reverse, backing up. The Viral stumbles, but regains its footing quickly. You crank the gear shift back to drive, and step on the paddle. The Viral is knocked down for good this time around, and you try to ignore the crunch that comes from beneath the tires. 

You drive the car out onto the road, attempting to navigate it past the cracks and potholes in the pavement. You glance through the rear view mirror, but it looks like you lost that zombie. Phew.

Chapter Text

Chapter 13

The two of you drive for a while longer, mostly just because you still have plenty of time before sunset now that spring’s come around. You attempt to regulate your breathing after the encounter, and remember that you’ve still yet to thank your companion for saving you. 

“Thank you, by the way,” you say to Link, keeping your eyes on the road. It’s much nicer when there aren’t any other drivers around. “I would’ve been zombie food if it weren’t for you.” 

The corners of Link’s lips quirk up subtly, but he doesn’t say anything. The two of you had saved each other countless times by now, and it was nice to have someone you know you can rely on, especially now. 

Something just over your windshield gets your attention. You slow the car down, leaning forward to get a better look. Your eyes widen. Not a bird, nor an insect, or even just a speck of dirt or a figment of your imagination. 

Up in the sky, a crate was slowly lowering down to the ground, a parachute slowing its fall. 

“A crate!” You exclaim, stepping on the gas. Link follows your eyes, his own widening at the sight. 

You hadn’t seen supply crates since the radios went out. The two of you wholeheartedly believed that at this point, any survivors in Central Hyrule were dead to the rest of the nation, but this crate proved otherwise. Of course, they wouldn’t send out supply crates to two random teenagers that they didn’t even know existed, but that just meant you had to be wary of other survivors closer out south. There must’ve been someone else. After all, where else would that Viral have come from?

You follow after the crates to the best of your ability along the road, being mindful of abandoned cars out on the road and other debris. The crates land in the plaza of the ruins of a mall, and you roll off next to them. Scanning about, it looks like the two of you are the first to the supplies. Link and you exit the car, weary of any ambushers, but the coast is clear for now.

You move the parachute aside, revealing beneath the fabric two supply crates. You kneel down, wasting no time to check the inside. 

“Medicine,” you mutter, studying the contents. Bottles, vials, syringes, pills. Link keeps looking around anxiously as he opens up the second one. Identical. 

You look at the supply crate, and then to your car. The back had been seriously dented, but if it still opens, you could haul these out of here. On the other hand, these were probably meant for other survivors. Then again, wasn’t every man for himself here? 

You take another scan of your surroundings. Your time was limited. You turn back to the medicine, take a good, hard look at it, and close the crate. 

You walk back to Link’s side, checking the contents of the second crate. Same stuff. You meet Link’s gaze, attempting to gauge his opinion through his eyes. He meets your eyes, and reaches for the handle to the crate. Seems you’re on the same page. 

“Help me haul this thing into the car,” you decide. 

The crate is heavy, and you grab the handle on one side, while Link grips the other. You and him put it down briefly closer to the car, and force the back door open, and lift the supply crate in. The back door closes again with some force, and the two of you climb back into the car. You spare one last glance to the other supply crate, your greed battling with logic. 

You start the car, and turn tail while any other survivors hadn’t come around to find that you had stolen half of their supplies. 

The back door of the Subaru that you had used to crash into the door of the warehouse malfunctioned out on the road and opened. The supply crate nearly slid out, and you almost lost your precious cargo. So, you stopped by that car dealership again. 

You leave your old car in the parking lot, and sneak back into the building to retrieve more keys. The search for a car that’s big enough so you’ll be able to haul the supply crate into the back of it starts anew, with multiple keys in your hands. Truth be told, it was kind of nice to be able to drive like that, especially when there was no one else on the road, and you could take whatever lane feels right to you. 

“Think it’ll fit in here?” You ask, unlocking a car that had actually reacted to the keys in your hand, and opening the back door. “Or we could try that truck over there.” 

You motion to the car with an open back area standing in the other row. That would be easier to haul things into, but it would also be less secure. Link’s eyes flicker between the two cars, and he gestures toward the first one with a door to the trunk. You nod, and climb into the driver’s seat again. You turn the key, but are met with deafening silence. The battery’s dead. Link reaches over from the passenger seat to try it for himself, but also gets no reaction. 

With a sigh, the two of you exit the car.

“I’ll go get the other car. You pop the hood open,” you say, going off to drive the car that you were using previously over to the new one. 

You drive the car over, lining them up to face each other as best you can. Link lifts the hood of the working vehicle, too, and you exit, leaving the keys in. You lean against the side of the car, watching him connect the jumper cables. You climb into the new car, waiting for some sort of signal. He looks up after a few moments of tinkering, and gives you a thumbs up. You turn the key again, but the car remains silent. It takes a couple more tries, but eventually, it purrs to life with a sigh of relief from both of you. 

Link disconnects the cables, and you join him to help move your cargo into the new car. You pause in front of the driver’s seat again, and look to the sky. The sun was lowering, and the clouds were orange. You’d wasted a lot of time, and night was falling quickly. Link waits patiently for you in the passenger seat, his expression also that of growing worry. 

You climb into the driver’s seat, and maneuver your car out onto the road again. 

You put as much pressure on the paddle as you can trust yourself with while making turns, racing against time itself. Daylight was fading by the second, and if you don’t get back to the base soon, the Nightcrawlers will begin to flood out wherever they come from. 

The car begins to slow down as the final nail in the coffin is sealed. The road is blocked off by an overturned truck. You’d forgotten all about it. 

You could turn the car around, but you know you wouldn’t make it in time. Link tugs on your sleeve to get your attention, pointing towards the side of the road. You’re going to have to park for the night, and go looking for a secure place to bunker down. You hadn’t spent a night in a random apartment since the beginning of the apocalypse. 

You pull up to the side of the road, and exit the car. You’re going to have to abandon the supply crate in the trunk for the night. Hopefully whatever group you stole it from won’t come looking, but you’ve also made it a decent distance away, so it’s unlikely to be an issue. In any case, you’ve got a much more pressing one on your hands now. 

Link pulls himself up onto the roof of your car, and then even higher, onto a balcony. You follow after him, making your way higher and higher, up to an open window to one of the higher levels of the building. He peeks into the apartment to see if it’s safe or not, and you make sure he doesn’t fall off the edge of the balcony railing. He climbs through, and offers you a hand to help you up. You accept it, climbing in yourself. 

It’s dark, but that much is a given. Old smears of blood have dried dark on the carpet, and one of the doors is blocked off by a wardrobe, another leads to an equally bloody bathroom, but it looks safe. There’s another door that leads into the bedroom, but whatever occupants that it could’ve belonged to had long since left. 

You dust the couch off, and plop down on it. Slipping your backpack off your shoulders, you dig through it in search of the provisions that you brought with you. Link sits down next to you, pulling out a few protein bars. Your hand finds the ones that were in your backpack, and you pull them out, placing them in the small space between you and him. You each choose one flavor from the selection, and put the rest away. Link and you eat on the couch, a comfortable silence between the two of you. 

Beep! Beep! Beep!  

You’re taken out of the moment when both of your wristwatches begin to beep, signalling the coming of night. Less than a minute later, cries come out of the night just past the window. The Nightcrawlers are out and about now, and the best that you can do is sit it out until the sun comes again. 

Link rises from the couch, suddenly not feeling so safe in the living room. He takes your hand, pulling you into the bedroom instead. It was a more secure room, with a smaller window that was only partially shattered. The bed looks more or less clean, so there is some hope of getting sleep tonight. The bed squeaks beneath your weight as you and your companion begin to settle, the mattress plush and cool. But scratching that comes from the roof immediately sucks out all the possible comfort. 

Something is on the roof, slinking towards the source of any noise it can find. Link and you freeze, afraid of putting any more weight on the old furniture. You can hear its breathing, hear when its limbs make contact with the outside wall of the building. In the darkness, you’re not sure if it’s your imagination, or if the Nightcrawler’s lanky fingers really curl around the top of the window frame. 

Link gingerly reaches over to the bedside table, picking up the alarm clock. He throws it out of the window, knocking out more glass with an ear-piercing shatter. A screech echoes through the night, and something heavy bounces off the wall after it. 

Link and you scramble into the closet for the night. It’s a little cramped, and the two of you are forced to sit huddled in a corner, but you feel much safer here. Sleep doesn’t come easily, but you periodically doze off on his shoulder. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 14

Link and you somehow managed to haul the supply crate back to the base, feeling the triumph of two people that had won a lifetime’s supply of medicine. You sorted through all the various bottles, boxes, and medical equipment that was in the supply crate, and in the end, ended up with a very organized storage that doubled as a bench in front of the kitchenette peninsula. The following evening, you spend time tinkering with the box tv that had been left in your base. 

The dropping of the two supply crates was a hopeful sight, but that’s where miracles ended. The TV showed nothing static, even when you and Link began to mess with the antenna. The radio was also nothing but static, adding no usefulness aside from white noise.  

You were still stranded, but life went on. The weather warmed, and that lifted your spirits. Sunshine spills over your face on yet another trip to the river. You sit next to Link, scrubbing a dirty shirt. The water is warm, and you relax with your shoes off, your trousers rolled up to the knees. You do your best to scrub the clothes clean, but some things just don’t come out anymore. You sigh, rinse the shirt off, and toss it back into the basket. 

You look around, eyes gliding over the newly born greenery, the clear water, the fresh aroma of the forest, and a sudden urge overcomes you. 

“We should go swimming,” you suggest, turning to Link. The weather was nice, and the two of you deserve a break. 

He looks up from the jacket that he was scrubbing, and then looks around. You didn’t have a lot more washing to get done. You could take a slight detour. He nods, and you hop up, making your way downstream. There was a pond not too far from here. It wasn’t very deep, but perhaps the rains had made it a decent size for swimming, 

“Hey, I’ll race you,” you glance over your shoulder at your companion, a grin blooming on your face. He raises a brow, and before he can fully catch up to you, you begin the countdown, “three…two…” 

You bolt. You know you’re cheating, and you don’t really care. You can hear Link’s footsteps follow yours. The pond is in sight. You amp up the pace, unwilling to let him win, especially since you decided to cheat. 

You reach the water first, out of breath, and with a grin on your face. Link is close at your heels. He stops next to you, landing a slap on your shoulder with a bemused expression. You deserve it. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you manage as you attempt to catch your breath. 

The pond is larger than you recall, clear, and warm. You ditch your outer layers on the shore, and wade into the warm. Link does the same, before following after you. It’s warm and refreshing at the same time, though there’s not a whole lot of space for diving. At the very least, the floor of the pond is soft and sandy, with a few plants growing beneath the waters. 

You splash some water in Link’s direction when he swims closer. He lifts an arm up to shield himself, and retaliates, splashing some back in your direction. How dare he reciprocate something you started? You fake an offended gasp, swiping another wave of water in his direction. He ducks under the water, getting his hair wet, but evading your attack. Be that way. 

You swim closer, and wait for him to resurface before pushing down on his shoulder, causing him to briefly go underwater again. You take your hand away very quickly, though. You weren’t trying to drown your companion. He resurfaced for longer this time, brushing the water out of his eyes with a playful smile. He shakes the excess water off, already creeping closer in pursuit of vengeance. The duel commences until you feel something brush against your leg in the water. 

You halt, spinning around. Looking down into the water, you catch sight of the tail of a fish. 

“Link!” You call over to him. “There’s fish in here!” 

You lift the fishing hook out of the water, the bait gone, but no fish to make up for it. Again. 

There you two sit on the shore with a few fishing rods lined up in hopes of catching something. Link is focused on them, but you’re honestly distracted. You haven’t had fresh food in forever, and your stomach was getting impatient at the mere prospect. You’re honestly debating just sharpening the end of a branch and going fishing the old-fashioned way, but you choose to remain civil. The apocalypse has done enough to you as is. You’ve tried your luck with the fishing rods, but it’s been fruitless labor. 

Finally, after what feels like forever, Link hops up, and picks up one of the fishing rods, beginning to reel in what could be tonight’s dinner. You watch, eyes darting between him and the water. You can already imagine some fried fish fillets, and your stomach growls at the thought. 

Your eyes widen as you watch a fish be lifted out of the pond. Link lowers it down onto the grass, and you throw your arms around his shoulders. 

“My hero!” You grin. “We’re gonna eat good tonight!”

Back home, the two of you go all out. It’s a masterpiece that deserves a Michelin star all on its own — fried in oil, on a pan, with crispy breadcrumbs, salt, spices, you even added some fancy herb for the look. 

You stand over the makeshift grill, diligently flipping the fillet over to make sure that it was perfect. A delicious aroma fills the air, and you can feel Link’s presence behind you, also drooling over the fresh food. 

“You don’t have to be breathing down my neck, I’m not going to gobble the fish down behind your back,” you joke, turning around, and giving Link a small push back. “And please don’t eat me, either.” 

You almost catch a hint of a smile on his face. He takes a step off to the side, instead, his eyes still focused primarily on the food. You would’ve thought that he hadn’t eaten at all in days. 

Link takes the fillet off the pan when he deems it done, moving it off onto a large plate. You grab two forks, and join your companion on the edge of your makeshift bed, ready to dig into the warm meal.

And it’s gone just as quickly as it was made. The two of you did your best to gut and clean it out in the forest, but you couldn’t do a whole lot about the bones aside from hope that you got most of them when you took the spine out. The two of you pick it apart, wolfing down pieces as soon as you were sure there were no bones in the meat. And it was good. 

“You know,” you say, finishing up the last few scraps. “Despite everything, I’m glad I've been stuck with you. I couldn’t ask for a better companion.”

You smile, bumping your shoulder lightly against Link’s. His expression softens, and he returns the smile, his cerulean eyes meeting yours. 

He gets up to take the scraps on the plate back into the kitchenette, and you curl up under the blankets with a full, warm stomach that, for the first time in months, did not contain any canned food. 

The following morning, you set out on another expedition further out south. The fish yesterday was good, but it’s not going to last you past today, and you need to stock up more. 

Given, it was a rather risky endeavor. The medicine crates that had been dropped some days back landed on the border between Central Hyrule and Faron. That meant that there were likely other surviving Hyruleans living somewhere in the area. Even if you hadn’t seen any signs of them, that didn’t mean that they weren’t there. 

No more crates have fallen, unless they were dropped in the night, but you aren’t desperate enough for resources to go out during the hours of the Nightcrawlers, even if you saw them fall. That would be a deathwish. 

So, you were limited to what you could find out and about. 

You kneel under a balcony, hoisting Link up into an open apartment. He extends a hand down to you, and helps you up after him. The two of you hadn’t raided this neighborhood yet, and with some luck, maybe the families left some non-expired food behind. At this point, the date on the label meant little to you — you didn’t even know what month it was — and so long as it didn’t smell or look weird, it was good to eat. 

You crack the glass door of the balcony, and unlock the door. It looks empty, but it’s also a more luxurious apartment with plenty of space for undead to hide. You make a beeline for the kitchen, while Link lags behind in the living room, checking things out with his handgun at the ready. You sift through the cabinets, on the search for anything that looks remotely safe to eat. You check the fridge, and then begin to open up the top cabinets. You find some alcohol, and halt for a moment. You could try to take a few bottles, not for consumption, but for potential future trade. You tap on one of the bottles to test the material. Glass. That won’t do, you need your hands for climbing. 

You close the cabinet again, and move on to the lower ones. You find some canned goods, which you shove into your backpack. You open up another cabinet, but your ears catch on to a different sound. You pause, your ears perking up in search of that sound again. Maybe your brain was just playing tricks on you? But no, there it was again, like a soft, distant whimpering. 

“Link?” You turn, finding your companion standing at the kitchen island. “Do you hear that?” 

He stills, his ears alert and searching for any unusual sounds in the air. 

He turns towards the corridor to the right of the kitchen, taking slow, soundless steps in its direction. You follow after him, loading your backpack onto your shoulders as quietly as you can manage. 

The two of you stop between two doors, searching for the source of the noise. The whimpering sounds again, and you slip your baseball bat into your hands, keeping it at the ready. Link pushes one of the doors open with his handgun. The door swings open slowly with mild creaking, and past it, you find a nursery. 

It looks strangely untouched. An uncomfortable feeling settles in your spine. The whimpering sounds again. Your bat lowers. No. Surely not?

Link and you step closer. A crib stands in the corner of the room, a light blanket hastily thrown over it. Link reaches a hand out, gingerly grasping the corner, and pulling it away. His handgun lowers. 

An infant. But not a regular one. The poor thing is in the same condition as any other undead. Its skin peeling, its chest cavity and ribs exposed, reeking of decay. But for a moment, it has you fooled. 

A glass-shattering scream echoes through the room. Both you and Link flinch back, hands flying to cover your ears. The thing’s lung capacity would be impressive if it weren’t for the circumstances. 

Link is the first to come back to his senses through the scream. He pulls you back slamming the door shut after you, but you can already hear the sound of zombies outside, responding to their siren call. 

Your ears still ringing, you rush after Link back onto the balcony, and up onto the roof of the building. You can still hear the infant’s wails, calling all nearby undead to your location. 

Link hops over the edge of the building onto the roof of the neighboring one, and you follow after him. You can outrun the Walkers, you know that, but if any Virals are around, you’ll be in trouble. You follow Link down to the ground, and then take off running. The screams fade into the distance, but you’re not out of the woods yet. 

You spot a small group of zombies up ahead, and Link ducks into an alleyway, hoping to take a shortcut past them. On the other end, however, a Viral’s already waiting for you. Link jumps back, and as the thing charges forward, you swing your baseball bat. It connects with its shoulder, sending it into the brick wall. Using its moment of daze to your advantage, you rush past it, but it’s hot on your tail. 

Link turns, aiming his handgun at the zombie. You glance over your shoulder, and out of the corner of the eye, spot another zombie to his left. You spin on your heel, your bat already at the ready. A gunshot sounds, and the first one drops to the ground. Your baseball bat connects with the second, and it drops, too. 

“[Name]!” 

You begin to turn, your gaze falling behind you. But you’re too slow. 

A white-hot sting ricochets through your shoulder. Teeth sink into flesh through the layers. A bullet zips past you. It buries into the head of your attacker. Too slow. 

A body falls to the ground behind you. Your fingers inch to your shoulder. There’s something wet there. You lift your hand. Blood coats your fingers.

Chapter Text

Chapter 15

Day 1.

A blood-stained towel lies in the sink. Scissors rest on top of it. A gauze roll stands on the counter, in company with the bottle of ointment. Silence hangs over the base like heavy fog. 

You sit on the toilet lid, watching your companion bandage your shoulder. And for what? 

“Link , ” you say, trying to get his attention. His gaze remains on the gauze as it is wrapped around your limb. His expression betrays nothing, not a single hint of emotion, or thought. 

“ Link, ” you repeat, a little more insistently. Still nothing, not even a look. 

“You’ll have to kill me,” you attempt to reason with this brick wall. “You kno—“ 

“Shut up,” he cuts you off. 

And you fall silent. In a matter of hours, days, weeks… you’ll turn. Worse yet, you’ll become a Viral before you become a Walker. You won’t just die, you’ll keep your consciousness for a while longer. You’ll kill Link if he doesn’t do it first. 

“ Link, ” you try again, your plea more desperate. 

Both of you know what will happen. Yet, he doesn’t even try to reach for his handgun. 

“[Name], please,” he shuts any attempts down. 

He just keeps bandaging your shoulder, as though this was no more than a skinned knee, an injury that won't even leave a scar. You’ll turn. You’ll turn, dammit! You’ll become a zombie, and you’ll kill Link if you don’t do something! 

And this boy just unscrews a bottle of water, offering it to you. Like this was after just another supply run. As though nothing happened. As though you hadn’t been bitten. As though everything would be fine. 

Reluctantly, you take the bottle, and drink a few gulps from it. Dread settles in the pit of your stomach, the same thought running in your mind over and over — you’ll turn. How much longer did you even have?

The rest of the day is spent in a daze. The bunker is quiet, and you remain in your own mind, every sting that sounds from your shoulder a cruel reminder of your fate. 

Link brought the remains of the fish he caught yesterday out of the fridge, but you didn’t feel so hungry anymore. Link ends up having to coax the food into you. 

You can’t sleep, either. How much longer did you have? The question kept you up, unwilling to go to sleep lest you wake up transformed. Worse still, Link lay next to you with naive proximity. Did he not care? Did it not bother him? Was he in denial? 

You shifted, rolling over in an attempt to get more comfortable, to welcome some sleep, but your shoulder shrieks in pain, letting you know real quick that you were not about to try putting any pressure on it. You roll over onto your other side instead, settling onto the warm pillow with a sigh. 

Yet, your thoughts don’t give you a piece of mind regardless. Your handgun rests next to Link’s off on the side of your makeshift bed. You look over your shoulder, past Link. Your eyes fall onto it, and your mind quiets. Yet, your hands remain still. You turn back to the wall, and close your eyes. 

Day 2.

 Your slumber is a restless one. You awaken in the dark of the safe house. Sweat is running down your forehead. You feel weak, your body heavier. You attempt to roll over to wake up Link, but when you so much as dare move, a stinging pain zaps through your shoulder. Your hand flies up to cover your wound, but the pain only grows worse, so you don’t touch it. You try not to put any pressure on your injury, or even really move it.

You grit your teeth, feeling about the blankets behind you. You find Link’s arms and shake him awake. By some miracle, he’s not sleeping like a log tonight. He looks over his shoulder, and immediately sits up upon seeing you in pain. His eyes dart from your face to your shoulder, and he gets up himself, before gingerly helping you up so that he can take you into the bathroom. 

You’re trembling from the loss of warmth as you find yourself sitting on the toilet lid again. You feel lightheaded, but your mind clears quickly when Link peels away the bandages on your shoulder, the pain of your injury causing you to still. You take a few deep breaths, attempting to get you breathing back under control, but your injury is unbearable. 

Link peels the last layer away, his brows knitting together at the sight. You dare a glance to your shoulder, but quickly avert your gaze in regret, feeling yourself gag a little. It was a less than pretty sight. The ointment was either taking its sweet time to work, or wasn’t working at all. It’s obvious it got infected, what else did you assume? 

“You think we’ll have to cut it off?” You make an attempt at a joke, more for your own sake than to humor your companion. 

Link didn’t respond, instead taking a clean towel, and letting it soak up some warm water from the thermos on the counter. He cleans your wound, padding at it gently, and whispers apologies in response to every hiss of pain. He redresses the bite, and covers it with a clean gauze. 

Link gives you some water to drink, worry beginning to show in his eyes, and the two of you return to bed. And that’s the last time you get up. 

Day 3.

Your condition only worsens. Soon, you find yourself too weak to even get up off the mattress. Link doesn’t head out. He hardly leaves your side. You didn’t mind it so much when you caught a cold in the winter, but now, it felt like yet another reminder that both of you were just waiting for you to go savage. 

Much to your worry, your skin had begun to turn pale and ashy. Link still redressed your wound every morning and evening. You had tried to tell him that it was a waste of material, but he insisted. The bite hadn’t gotten worse, or so he said, but what did it matter? You were going to turn no matter what the wound looked like. 

A part of you wanted to yell at your companion. Scold him for his recklessness and stupidity. Why didn’t he just put you out of your misery? You were bitten. You were going to turn into a zombie. There was no stopping that. And then what? Would Link finally reach for his handgun then ? Or would he still deny it all, up until you ripped a chunk or two off of him right in your own safe house? 

But you didn’t have the strength for it. 

Day 4.  

You’re not sure if you’re conscious or tripping. Your vision’s blurry around the edges, and you’re overcome by an insatiable hunger. 

“Link,” you croak out, voice hoarse, and throat dry. 

He’s at your side in a moment’s notice, expression softened, concern playing in those bright blue eyes of his. 

“I’m hungry…” you complain. 

He nods, disappearing just as quickly as he arrived. 

When he returns, it’s with a can of warmed soup. He sets it down, helping you sit up against the wall, propping up a pillow for you. He hands you the can and a spoon, and in the meantime, he begins to remove the gauze at your shoulder. 

He studies the wound, but you’re too busy wolfing down the soup. You’re so hungry… he cleans it up, careful as always. You don’t notice the pain as much, either numb to it, or too preoccupied with your meal. 

“It’s healing,” Link comments, a certain lightness in his tone that you haven’t heard in a while. “Does it hurt?” 

You shovel more of the soup into your mouth, enjoying the warmth that runs through your throat and chest. 

“[Name]?” Link’s voice brings you out of your ravenous trance. 

“Oh, uhm…” you lower the can.  “Not as much.” 

Due to your lightheadedness, you’re uncertain, but you can almost pick out a smile that crosses his face. 

You devour the can of soup with ease, despite the fact that typically, one would be shared between Link and you, and often serve for both breakfast and dinner. And still, hunger doesn’t stay away for very long. Not even two hours later, your stomach begins to beg for food once more. But you just ate. 

You know you can’t ask Link for more food, so you curl up next to him in your bed, and try to fall asleep somehow, someway. He cards his fingers through your hair, attempting to bring you some comfort. Your fever doesn’t let up. 

Day 5.  

You didn’t wake up that morning, and Link didn’t rouse you. He carefully redressed your wound, but left you be so you could rest. You were still breathing, your heart beating, but you were weak, and you needed it. 

The complaints for food had ceased, and the base was quiet. The bite wound looked better. The care had worked, but as something went well, something else became a concern. Your skin had turned ashy, almost developing a sickly, greenish undertone. Link tried not to pay it too much mind, but it was just one more thing that showed that the odds were never in your favor. 

By that afternoon, you still hadn’t woken up, your slumber deep. Link couldn’t do very much for you at that point. He draped a wet rag over your forehead, hoping it might fight off the fever. 

Already, the silence of the safe house had begun to feel lonely, weighing down on Link, and tearing him between restlessness and the loss of hope. 

He returned back to bed earlier, climbing under the covers with a heavy weight in his chest. His eyes turned to you, looking for the color that had drained out of your cheeks that morning. With a sigh, he lifted a hand up to the side of your neck to check your pulse. It was still there, but it was faint. 

He pulled his hand up, fixing your hair, and brushing it out of your face. He propped himself up onto an elbow, his expression turning solemn. 

“You’ll be alright,” he said, trying to convince himself of that fact more than the person that lay next to him. You had to be.

He began to turn away from you, but paused, and looked back. After a moment of pondering, he gingerly scooted himself a little closer, careful not to invade your personal space too much, sleeping or not. Hesitating, he leaned closer, and pressed a featherlight kiss to the top of your head — a final, silent prayer to the Goddess.

He pulled away quickly, and pushed himself back to give you your space. With a sigh, he rolled over so that his back faced you, and closed his eyes. He didn’t want to know what tomorrow would bring. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 16

Day…?

Your eyes open again. Your body is too light, and you almost can’t feel anything. Your throat is the Gerudo Desert, and your mind is foggy. You’re hungry. 

If it weren’t for how uncomfortable you feel, you almost would’ve assumed that you had made it into the afterlife. You lift a hand up, skin still ashy and sickly. You’re so hungry.  

Your hand drops back down onto the blankets, searching around for your companion. Your fingers stumble upon his arm, and curl around it. 

“Link,” you say, voice hoarse and your dry throat painful. You give him a shake, but he remains fast asleep as usual. 

You give up, allowing your hand to drop back down. There was no hope waking him up now. Your stomach growls loudly. When…did you eat? What time was it? 

You attempt to move your limbs, and return some blood into them. Realizing that your companion would only wake up who knows when, you slowly push yourself up. You’re wobbly on your feet, your body whining beneath its own weight to just lay down again, but the hunger. You’re ravenous. 

Stumbling, your hand finds the doorknob to the pantry, clutching it like a lifeline. You pull the door open, and try to read the labels on the cans. But find that you can’t. Not from this distance. Oh Hylia, you were going blind. Your eyes were decaying. Everything was decaying. 

You grip the doorway of the pantry with your hands, attempting to regulate your breathing and calm yourself down. Everything was fine. Everything was alright.  

You reach for one of the cans, and with the loss of necessary support, your legs give out right then and there. You fall to the ground, some cans coming down with you, and falling to the ground in one collective, loud, crash!  

You freeze, your hands holding you above the cold floor, your ears taking in the silence after the impact. Tears well up in your eyes, and you can’t hold them back anymore. You allow yourself to lower to the floor, and curl up there with all the shamelessness of a dying individual, the cans surrounding you. 

How can you lie to yourself like that? You don’t want to die. You can feel your own body deteriorating, and it’s agonizing. You open your tear-filled eyes, your gaze falling over a small can of something. And this hunger on top of everything else. You wish Link would just end your suffering. 

But instead, he’s asleep, and you reach out for the can, opening it. Chicken breast. You’re so hungry. You push yourself up into a sitting position, but then hesitate. Forks were stored all the way across the kitchenette, and you really didn’t want to move. And nor were you patient enough at this point. Despite your greater judgment, which had slowly been going quiet over the past few days, you reach into the shallow can, digging the meat out with your bare hands. 

It didn’t taste good. Cold. Wet. Bland. Slimy. But it was meat, and it subdued your hunger. You were so invested in your meal that you hadn’t even heard Link get up. 

“[Name]?” His voice brings you out of your animalistic trance. He stands at the corner of the kitchen peninsula, and perhaps it’s a good thing you cannot see his expression. 

For a moment, you regain clarity, and look down at yourself. At the liquid covering your mouth and hand. At the leftover bits of chicken on your fingers, under your nails. At the clawed-out contents of the can. What are you doing? What got into you? 

Seeing you lower the can you were just ravaging, Link begins to inch closer, approaching you like you were some kind of wild animal. Is that how he saw you now? It wouldn’t be an inaccurate assessment. 

He crouches down next to you, gingerly placing a hand on your shoulder, before gripping it a little tighter. You probably look terrible right now… slowly, you put the can down onto the floor. Link doesn’t say anything else, silently lingering to make sure you’re alright, before taking your arm to pull you up. You don’t fight it, either. He pulls you over to the sink, and grabs a rag, giving it to you so that you can clean yourself up. 

You take it clumsily, wiping down your face, and your hand. You try to get the bits of chicken out from under your nails, but you can’t see all that well, so Link takes the rag from you, getting the pieces out, and getting any other spots you’ve missed. 

Tears begin to flow anew as the realization returns to you. You don’t pull away from him, but you don’t seek out comfort either. 

“Link, I don’t want to die,” you voice your thoughts, looking up at him. But you can’t see. You can’t see his reaction. His face. His eyes. 

But you can feel when he pulls you into a hug. 

“You’re not going to die,” he reassures, despite everything. And that makes it so much worse. When you turn, he’ll be the first target. But for now, he slowly pulls you back to the makeshift bed, so you can rest in comfort and warmth.

You allow sleep to take you once more, curled up in the safety of your companion’s arms.

Day 7.

Your eyes open to greet the soft, morning light. Link sits next to you in bed, a can of something in his lap. You prop yourself up onto your elbow, leaning closer. It smells good. 

Link turns his head to you, the corners of his lips turning up in a smile. He offers you a spoonful. Soup. You accept it, feeling the warm liquid run down your throat, and into your chest. 

He offers you more spoonfuls, but after a few, you shake your head, not finding yourself very hungry yet. Despite the fact that you appreciated the warmth the soup provided, maybe you’d eat some later. 

You look up at Link, your eyes meeting his, and find yourself being able to see again. Bright, bright blue eyes. You can’t quite decipher the far side of the safe house, but you can see better than you could yesterday. You can see details in his face. His eyes. His expression. You can see Link. 

You look back at your shoulder, finding no gauze to redress. Your skin doesn’t look so ashy anymore. It seems to be regaining some hue. You pull the skin up a little so you can see the bite better. It looks healed. Still a bit pink, but far less ugly than only a few days ago. You don’t find your limbs so heavy anymore, either. Were…you alive? 

Chapter Text

Chapter 17

How were you alive?! You got bit, and then you felt like you were on death’s doorstep, and now you’ve just recovered? 

Your vision has returned to you in full, and soon, you found yourself getting up again on your own accord. You no longer felt ravenous, and when it was nice and warm, you climbed out onto the roof to feel the sun on your face. Link was still hesitant to allow you to accompany him on supply runs, but you understood that it was out of concern for you, even if you felt perfectly fine now. 

He himself was reluctant to leave you in the safe house, despite the fact that now you were most certainly not going to turn, and he would come home to a ravenous, agile monster, in the most literal sense. For now, though, you weren’t in a particular rush to go out for more supplies, anyway. You could afford a few days back at the base.

With another swing, your baseball bat connects with the makeshift dummy Link and you have set up on the roof. It topples over, and you pause, rolling your bitten shoulder. It’s healed well, but still began to ache dully with too much movement. According to the professional medical inspection and opinion of two teenagers though, you’ve diagnosed yourself with very minor damage, and there was no need to chop your whole arm off. 

Your ears perk up, sending movement behind you, and you find Link climbing up onto the roof after you, a drowsy veil still hung over his eyes. 

“Good morning,” you greet, and receive a hum back in response. Link yawns, rubbing his arms to fend off the cool morning wind. Did he really just crawl out of bed? 

His eyes flickered to your shoulder, before rising to meet your own, a question in his sleepy gaze. 

“My shoulder’s fine,” you reassure him. He nods, not needing any evidence. You close the distance between you, a sympathetic expression on your face as you watch him try to wake up. 

“By the way, I left some breakfast for you on the counter,” you mention. He glances back to the trapdoor, and the warmth of the base beyond it, especially with the promise of food. Link gives you a slight smile, and climbs back down, leaving you to your training. 

You turn back towards the makeshift training dummy, reaching a hand up to rub your shoulder. You decide to take a break before continuing with the practice, sitting down in one of the lawn chairs, and pull out your thermos. Unscrewing the top, you take a few sips of the warm water, allowing your limbs to rest before you return back to bullying the training dummy. 

You get up again, leave the thermos by the lawn chair, and adjust your grip on the bat. You raise it up to the side of your head, and take a swing. It connects with the ‘head’ of the dummy, toppling over again. Maybe Link and you could figure out a way to hang it up. It was getting bothersome to have to fix it back up every time. Alternatively, you could try putting some kind of weight inside, too. 

Your thoughts are interrupted mid-swing, the air suddenly beginning to vibrate with buzzing, slicing through the silence. Your posture grows defensive, glancing about to find the source, and then it clicks in your brain. You rush to the edge of the roof, eyes to the sky. 

There!

“LINK,” you call down, already rushing to the trapdoor. Quickly, you glance back to the sky, watching the plane pass by. The crates hadn’t dropped yet. Link’s head opens in through the trapdoor opening, an inquisitorial expression on his face, his handgun already on his belt. 

His eyes follow yours, widening as he spots the plane. He disappears back down, and your ears catch on to something metallic clinking together. He throws you the car keys, and you catch them, waiting for Link to lift himself up before climbing down to your car. 

You hop into the driver’s seat, hearing no complaints emerge from your companion as he settles into the passenger’s side, both preoccupied with the notion of more crates being dropped. The frequency was a surprise, truth be told. Hadn’t it been only a few weeks back that you stole one full of medicine, and here was another — maybe with food, or water, or weaponry. 

You step on the gas, and your car springs forth, running out onto the middle of the road. 

You follow after the falling crates to the best of your ability, weaving on and off the roads. The crates were always a race against time, and whomever they were actually being dropped for, in this case. 

The crates were being dropped closer to Hyrule’s south for the second time now. There had to be some survivors there. The colored smoke signal from the dropped crates drew nearer, and Link and you began to glance about for other takers. You looked to be the first arrivals. 

You put the car in reverse, and press the button to open the trunk. Link hops out of the car, and you follow, dropping by one of the crates. You pull the parachute away, and attempt to yank the lid open, but unlike last time, it doesn’t budge. 

“ Locked! ” You huff, digging into your pocket for a lockpick — they were you-proofing the crates now! How dare they? 

Link pulls his handgun off his belt, watching the surroundings while you begin to work on the lock. At least it doesn’t take very long for it to unlock. You pushed the lid open, looking inside. 

Food! Fresh food! Link and you exchange excited glances, and you quickly make your way over to the other side, working to unlock the other crate. When you lift the lid, you’re greeted with packs of water. 

“Let’s haul the water in first,” you decide quickly, prioritizing your thirst. You take one side of a large pack, and Link takes the other, making quick work of loading it into the back of your car. Link and you pick up another, and shove it into the trunk as well, before turning to the food container. There’s more packs of water left in the other, but you leave it for any other survivors. 

“What do we take?” You ask, digging through the crate of food. There was a lot, once more mostly food that would last in the long-term. The crate was cold, the products frozen to preserve them even further. 

Link comes up next to you, taking a look himself, and begins to check the labels. He grabs a few basic food groups — canned meats, vegetables, sealed grain products that would last for a while so long as the environment was dry. You follow his example, but also can’t help but take things that you haven’t had in forever. Bread would have to be eaten quick, but what did it cost to haphazardly toss two loaves into the trunk?

You toss another sack of grain into the trunk, your ears picking up on the sound of Link dropping the lid shut again. Your raid on the crates is not unnoticeable, but you leave plenty inside, too — some basic decency remains in you still, somehow. 

You secure the trunk shut, and rush into the driver’s seat. The last thing Link and you need is to get caught red-handed. You slam on the breaks, checking with a brief glance that Link has a seatbelt on, and drive off with your spoils. 

For the first time in months, you felt some kind of hope in your chest. You are alive, miraculously. Crates with supplies were being dropped again. You’ve gotten fresh food, bottled water. The sun was shining bright. 

Link and you sit in the double seat lawn chair, which has slowly been getting more use than the singular ones, and share a loaf of whole-wheat bread. Neither of you have had bread in forever, probably looking like children who were left unattended with a bag of candy. 

“If only we had some eggs,” you muse, stuffing another piece into your mouth. “We could make some sick croutons. Ooh, or French toast.”

Link looks up from his own piece, his gaze darting between the bag of bread, and the makeshift grill the two of you had set up. He rolls the bag up, foolishly leaving it with you, and gets up off the lawn chair. He holds up his index finger, signalling you to wait a moment, and descends back down into the interior of the base. You can hear him sifting through the kitchen for something, but you don’t realize what until you see the side of a frying pan peek over the edge of the opening in the roof, waving for you to come get it. 

You get up, curiosity winning you over, and look down to find Link standing under the opening, one hand holding a frying pan, and the other, oil. You take the frying pan from him, and then reach for the oil.

“What’s this?” You ask, stepping aside so that he can climb through.

He gives you a small, but no less grateful, smile for holding on to his things, and takes them from you without an explanation. Instead, he comes up to the makeshift grill, setting the pan down upon it, and pouring a bit of oil over it. He makes sure it’s spread evenly, and then kneels down, digging a box of matches out of his pocket. He pulls out one, and sets it aflame. Soon enough, the fire has spread over the branches beneath the grill, and you’ve got quite the little kitchen going. 

Link looks up, and bids you and the pack of bread closer with a wave of his hand. You return to his side, and hand him the loaf. He takes a few slices, and you watch as he drops them onto the pan. The oil sizzles. Link leaves the pan with you, dispersing back down to go get some spices. You watch him when he comes back, sitting by and observing as magic happens right in front of you. 

Link takes one of the slices of fried bread and moves it onto a place that he hands to you. 

“Why thank you,” you accept the bread, and wait for it to cool a little before taking a bite. But when you do…

It’s the best thing you think you’d ever tasted. 

“Link, are you a wizard?” You tease, taking another bite. “Fried bread should not taste this good!” 

He smiles bashfully, and maybe it’s just a trick of the light, but you could argue they turn a little rosy. Regardless, you’re only prompted to continue. 

Despite the fact that you watched him through the entire process, you press on playfully, “there has to be a secret ingredient, I refuse to believe it! And don’t tell me it’s ‘love’.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 18

You were glad that you hadn’t turned into a zombie. Of course you did. It’s a fate that you wouldn’t wish upon any half-decent individual. But in the glow of the moonlight, you find yourself sleepless. 

Link is snoring softly next to you, but that’s not the problem. You’re alive. How? Why? You lift your hands, and let them hover above you, recalling just a few days ago the color that your skin had been. And now, here it is — back to its original, warm hue. In all logical sense, you shouldn’t be alive right now, or at the very least, you shouldn’t be this conscious. 

You look over at your companion, sleeping soundly with his arms wrapped around a pillow. You prop yourself up onto an elbow, your free hand lowering to your shoulder. The tips of your fingers brush over the healed, yet indented mark. A zombie bite. 

Why? The question keeps swirling in your head. Hundreds — thousands — of Hyruleans had been bitten since the beginning of the outbreak. How many had survived the bite? There’s no way that you’re the only one. But what if you were? Why you? Could Link survive if he got bit? You weren’t fond of testing that idea. 

Your eyes dart to Link’s sleeping form once more, jealousy nuzzling its way into your chest. Only a little bit — you wish you were asleep right now, too. But no, your brain was too busy in its attempts to dig up a logical explanation for the miracle of your survival. 

With a sigh, you reach out, giving Link’s shoulder a shake. 

“Link,” You call out to him, attempting to gently rouse him from sleep. “Link?”

He stirs in his slumber, but it takes more persistence to get him to open his eyes. He hums out in confusion, eyes struggling not to droop back down. His hair is a messy bedhead, movements sluggish. You feel bad for waking him now, but it is something important to you. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you brush his hair out of his eyes, frowning apologetically. “I’m sorry for waking you up… but can we talk?” 

He props himself up onto an elbow, and rubs the sleep out of his eyes, before nodding. He cares about you, and anything that’s of concern to you is of concern to him. Link looks up at you, waiting for you to express whatever was on your mind. Now that he’s awake and attentive, though, you find yourself struggling to put your feelings to words. 

“Why…” you begin hesitantly, uncertain of how to properly word it, and finally settle on something that sounds about right. “Why do you think I didn’t turn?” 

Link’s eyes flicker to your shoulder, silent as ever in his considerations. At least this gives you room to continue your pondering. 

“So many other people had gotten bitten and turned, and there were no reports of anyone surviving it before radios and TVs went dark,” you go on. “Could it be genetic? A rare, recessive trait of some kind? The bite was deep enough to draw blood, so I definitely should’ve been infected.” 

You knew Link didn’t have answers. You weren’t scientists. Even the scientists didn’t have an antidote or any way to fight back the virus, let alone knowledge that some people could just recover. 

“Would it be far-fetched to say that I might be ‘immune’?” You continue. “If I get bitten again, will I turn then?” 

Your survival complicated things. Not for you and Link — you had no reservations about leaving Link yet — but for the Hylian race, at least. 

Link listened to you, considering your words, but you both knew something: even if you were immune, even just once, it didn’t matter what it meant right now. There were no scientists hunting you down in hopes of figuring out what was different about you, to turn you into a lab rat, and there was nothing that Link and you could do with the knowledge, either. 

Now that you’ve gotten all of that off your chest, though, you felt better. Link still looked at you the same as he always had. Nothing changed. You were alright. 

“Sorry about waking you up again,” you avert your gaze, falling silent. 

Link sighs softly, but it isn’t out of annoyance. He didn’t mind being shaken out of his sleep if something was bothering you. He rarely provided his own insight verbally, but he could be counted upon to listen without judgement. Link rolls back, resting partially on his side as the room falls to silence once more. He pats his shoulder, and opens his arms invitingly. 

The corners of your lips quirk up in a weary smile at the gesture. You shift closer to the boy, happy to rest your head on his shoulder, and be comforted by your now-shared warmth. 

And it’s only when Link drapes an arm over you, and rests his cheek against your head that you become acutely aware of your proximity. And not just the physical one, but the emotional one, too. It’s not uncomfortable, but it does make you wonder: how long have the two of you been acting like this? 

It must’ve started with the outbreak, when the two of you had been thrust together for survival. In some vague, blurry fog in your mind, you can still remember the early days. And the nightmarish nights. When Link and you would find some random, abandoned apartment to hide in, and stuff yourself into the bathroom or a closet until dawn blessed you with its presence. And your companionship persisted in small, comforting touches and moments since then. 

So, for the first time since teaming up with Link, you found yourself on the question: what were you? Friends? Companions? Did companions sleep on the same mattress piled with blankets? Did they seek out each other’s warmth when it got cold, or when they didn’t feel well? Did they wake up to find themselves curled up against the other’s side? Did companions eat from the same plate? Did they move the other’s hair out of their eyes? Were they as close as Link and you are? 

You weren’t sure. You were comfortable with him, but that was because of the apocalypse. It was convenient to sleep next to each other, to eat out of the same can or off the same plate. And the question of your relationship was not one you were about to bring up to him. 

In any case, he’s already asleep, his chest rising and falling slowly and steadily. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 19

It was hot. Unbearably hot. More arid than the Gerudo Desert. 

Any ramifications that had been established during the winter were very quickly reversed. Batteries dug out of drawers, layers shed, a fan stolen out of a furniture store. 

“‘Move to Central Hyrule,’ they said,” you huff, sitting in front of the fan with Link. “‘It’s great there,’ they said. ‘Most stable temperatures in the whole country,’ they said.” 

Link sighs next to you, his head dropping down onto your shoulder. Spring’s progression had brought with it varying temperatures. At least everything was nice, green, and sunny for the most part. That quickly turned into a bit of a problem when the temperatures had decided to veer themselves off to the opposite end after a winter when Link and you resorted to just hibernating for a solid month until snow melted. 

And now, there you two sit, in front of a fan to fend off the heat, in t-shirts and shorts. 

“A swim in the lake would be so nice right now, but I don’t want to go out,” you comment. But the thought of a pool — of water — is a heavenly idea. 

Link, on the other hand, is a little more determined. He gets up, and begins to put on knee guards that the two of you usually wore outside, just an extra safety repercussion when scaling buildings. You turn, and lazily watch him, already knowing that you’re getting dragged outside, too. To motivate yourself a bit, you lean over, and turn the fan off. Link tosses you your own equipment, and you pull it on begrudgingly. It’s annoying, but it’s better than skinning your knees while climbing. 

By the time that your shoes are on, too, you’re already eager to get down to the lake. Maybe it got more fish? Link and you could feast like kings again if you catch one!

You climb down to the ground, and begin towards the woods behind the base, when Link grabs your hand, and pulls you in the polar opposite direction. Where was he going? The river and the lake were the other way. 

“Where are we going?” You ask him as he pulls you down the street, but your companion just smiles, and keeps walking. 

You’re left in the dark, but you trust Link, and what’s the worst thing that he could be planning? 

He leads you into a small little summer store. There’s dolphin posters in the windows that had been partially torn down. And you’re not even allowed to come inside. Link smiles reassuringly, and turns you by your shoulders so that your back is facing the store. He walks in, leaving you to stand guard. This wasn’t how you usually did things, but if Link wanted to be mysterious, then fine. 

You don’t have to wait too long, but you can definitely hear someone rip up a few boxes inside the store. What was he doing? Despite your curiosity, you remain standing vigilant at the door. Link returns soon enough, without a word of explanation. He swings his backpack back onto his shoulders, though you can’t determine its contents. 

“What’d you get?” You try to ask, but are met with the same, subtly playful expression. “Fine then, keep your secrets.”

You roll your eyes lightheartedly, but let Link take your hand again, this time actually leading you back to the woods. The canopy provided by the trees wards off the heat somewhat, but you’re still sweating, and just dreaming of when you finally get to go into the lake. You follow the river downstream, and soon, the lake comes into view. It looks more like a pond at the moment, but you can still take a dip in it, and that’s the important part. 

You ditch your shoes and socks on the shore, and welcome the water. It’s refreshing and lukewarm, but better than your own sweat. You wade in until the water comes to your knees, then reach down to scoot some up into your hands, and splash it onto your face and neck. 

Suddenly, you feel something wet hit your back. You turn, and find Link standing on the shore, a water gun in his hands. So that’s what he wanted to get at that store. He beams at you, and you can’t help but return the smile. Link lowers his water gun, and reaches into his backpack, pulling out an identical one to his own, just in a different color. He tosses it to you, and you catch it. It’s one of those fancier, more expensive ones, with a further reach. 

“Oh, you’re on!” You call back to him, lowering yours to fill it with the river water. The first blast from him you dodge, and aim your own weapon. He turns tail, dashing behind a tree. You follow after him, getting out of the water, and find cover behind a boulder. Gingerly, you peek out from the top, scouting out the situation. You lower your head back down just as water flies overhead. These water guns have really got some range. You move to the farther side of the boulder. You know where Link is, and he’d likely be expecting you to peek out from the left side or the top again, but you go for the right instead. 

You keep your water gun close, and take quick aim when you go in for a shot. You watch water fly out, but you’re not sure if you hit Link or not. You can see his eyes widen briefly, and him dodging back behind the tree. In the meantime, you move to the other side of the rock, waiting for Link to show up again, your gun already trained on the tree he was behind. 

When Link braves up to peek out of his hiding place again, you’re already ready for him. The water shoots out, and this time, you have some indication of him getting hit. He clutches his arm dramatically, and falls back against the trunk, eliciting a chuckle out of you. But that’s precisely what he needs, for you to let your guard down! He moves out from the other side of the tree, and you just barely manage to evade the water as it splatters over the side of the rock. 

With a smile still, you lift yourself up slightly to aim your water gun from the top, while Link sees the opportunity to dash for a better cover. Of course, you’re not about to let him do that. You take aim instinctively, but then decide against it, and rush out from behind the boulder after him. You’ll have a better shot at him from behind, so that’s where you head. Link glances over his shoulder, and veers off to the side, your shots splashing his arms and hair. He uses the tree to his advantage, rolling onto the other side, and aiming for you in a moment of distraction. The water hits your chest, and this time, it’s time for your own dramatics. You halt in your step, and stagger in a performance that truly deserves an Oscar. 

You drop your water gun, and instead clutch the spot where he shot you, “how could you, Link? I thought I could trust you, and you just betray me like this?” 

With a quick glance to make sure that there was only soft grass behind you, you allow yourself to fall back, and flop down dramatically, very clearly dead. 

Link comes over to you, struggling to hold back laughter. His failing attempts are contagious, and soon, you become a less convincing, snickering corpse. Your companion offers you a hand up, and you accept it, of course, grabbing your water gun from the grass next to you. 

In an even more unexpected act of betrayal, you shoot him back, the water splashing over his shirt. His jaw drops. Truly, how could you, his most trusted companion? 

He aims his gun at you, shooting you back, and you’re just as quick to return the line of fire. This continues until both run out of water, and you have to move yourself back closer to the pond to get more ammo. After that, it’s only some time before you’re both exhausted and soaked to the bone. 

You sit next to Link on the riverbank, your water guns laying next to you while you catch your breath. The best thing was that you didn’t even feel cold. The sun was warming the two of you, and drying your clothes quickly. Link drains the last of the water in the water guns, and stuffs them back into his backpack. He pulls his shoes and shoes on, and you follow after him, tugging your own on. 

You assume that you’re heading back to the safe house, yet Link subverts your expectations once again. 

Instead, when the two of you make it back to town, Link takes your hand again, and pulls you away from the direction of the base. He’s decided that today, you’re going on a little field trip. 

“Are we going somewhere again?” You ask, already knowing that Link was not going to tell you anything. 

You allow Link to drag you to wherever he wants to go, and soon, the location is revealed to you as well — an abandoned fast food restaurant. You raise an eyebrow, looking at Link skeptically. You don’t really want to dig through a large, no longer functioning freezer full of defrosted and likely expired foods. 

Link pulls you inside, quickly checking to make sure that the building is empty before abandoning you at the counter. You watch with curiosity while he hops over the counter, and walks over to the mixer. He makes sure that it’s empty as well, before retrieving something else out of his backpack — a few bags of frozen fruits and berries, and water. He spread the few bags out over the counter for your choosing, and quickly tested the machine, already plugged into a generator. It roars to life with volume that makes you cringe and whip around to scan the entrance of the store. Is Link crazy?! This much noise is going to draw any zombies around the block over here! Even if your area hasn’t seen any zombies since the winter, that didn’t mean that some couldn’t just show up. 

Link notes your alarm, and hops back over the counter. Together, the two of you push the table towards the door, and stack another one on the surface for some extra weight. Feeling safer now, Link and you return back to the counter. He opens his arms, gesturing to the bags of frozen fruits and berries, all for your selection. You take a look at the smoothie ingredients, and then select the ones that you think would be the most appetizing when mixed together. 

Link takes your selection with a smile, and turns to the mixer. He fills the mixer with some water, and then adds some handfuls of the ingredients. The mixer is loud, and you turn your attention to the door. There’s no zombies trying to break down your barricade, though, and in a few minutes, Link taps you on the shoulder, pouring the bright-colored smoothie into two plastic cups. 

He vaults over the counter, coming out on the same side as you once more, and slides one cup over to you. You take the cold beverage, and lift the cup to your lips, taking a sip. It’s sweet, and the taste combination is delicious. 

“It’s good,” you comment to your companion, leaning off the counter, and go over to sit on one of the less trashed tables. 

Link and you take a seat in a comfortable booth across from each other. You raise up your cup, and Link taps his against it. 

“Cheers,” you chuckle, taking another sip of the cool drink. “Thanks for taking me out. It was fun.” 

A snicker escapes Link in memory of the water gun fight, and he nods, taking a drink from his cup. 

The two of you sit in the booth for a while, sipping your smoothies, and talking. It’s one of the more relaxed days during the outbreak, and you can’t help but feel grateful. Link typically wasn’t one to initiate play or tomfoolery, but here he was, having dragged you out to have a water gun fight to cool off, and then make a smoothie. 

And he wasn’t done quite yet, either. When the two of you finish your drinks, he motions for you to follow him. Link leads you out to the back of the restaurant, and then out through the second set of doors, into the courtyard. there, you find a giant, bouncy play place. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 20

Your shoes are ditched at the entrance. You climb in cautiously, the floor still inflated and bouncy. You take a cautious hop forward. The ceiling is clearly meant for kids that are shorter than Link or you, and you have to be careful not to hit your head. It’s a little dirty, truth be told, but so is everything nowadays. You would just have to be careful bouncing about. 

Despite the size difference, you were already beginning to feel a little more like a kid again, especially with no regulator telling you that you’re a little too old and too tall to be running around the playplace. There are a few swinging pieces, but most everything is made of the same material — some kind of foam covered in colorful vinyl. You couldn't injure yourself in this place if you tried. 

You continue forward, with Link following after you. You walk past a net, separating two rooms. On the other side, you can see a giant ball pit, still filled with a rainbow of plastic balls, and leading to it, an even more colossal slide. 

“Link, look at that!” You point out with a growing smile. He nods, having noticed it too, his eyes shining with childish excitement. 

You nudge his shoulder, feeling particularly playful, “race you there!” 

You bounce your way off to a hole in the ceiling of that particular level, and climb up a few block shapes through it, Link close on your tail. There’s quite a few ways to go, but you choose the path along a narrow ‘bridge’, the sides of which were attached to similar nets just in case a child fell. You feel the bridge rock to the side, and stumble, using the net as leverage to push yourself forward. Up ahead is a whole obstacle course, with those same, big foam shapes, and punching bags hung from the ceiling. 

Link and you slow down here. As fun as your little competition is, there’s a lot to explore here, too. 

“Look out,” you push one of the punching bags towards Link, who chuckles, and swats it away, not threatened whatsoever. 

You make it a point to keep in front of him even as you explore. You’re still the leader of this race, and you plan to keep it that way. 

One of the walls is made of that net material up ahead. You approach it with Link, glancing about. There’s no sign of that slide, but you can see a lot more. There looks to be another two levels to this thing, but you’re also beginning to struggle at grasping the layout of the playplace. No matter, you continue on. 

You keep on wandering. The walkways and rooms are all new, but that giant slide you saw at the beginning is nowhere to be seen. Where even are you anymore? Where’s the exit? Is there one? Is this a Monster House situation? Were you trapped here forever? 

“Hey, what’s that?” You call out, pointing up ahead to a larger hallway. 

A row of built-in canons stood lined up along one of the walls, with wide, open windows, big enough to take a look at the other side, but not poke your head through and fall down to the first level. But now, you can at least see the ball pit and slide again. You’re to its left, and on the right is a matching structure, with the outer side made out of a harder material, painted to look like the hull of a pirate ship. The launchers and windows made a whole lot more sense now. 

The floor was littered with a few stray plastic balls, so you pick one up. It’s light and hollow, and easy to load into one of the launchers. Link comes up to one of the canons, testing to see how it works. You watch curiously as he moves it around, taking aim. You look over at the make-believe ship on the other side, before tapping Link’s shoulder, offering a ‘cannonball’. He accepts it with a smile, and loads it into the launcher. Seeing the empty space left still, it seems like it could hold multiple projectiles, but for a test run, one’s enough. Your eyes follow the cannonball as it sails over the ball pit, and lands through one of the windows on the other side. 

“Woo!” You cheer, and offer Link a high-five. Neither of you had been in a playplace or anything even remotely resembling a bounce house in years, and you were very easily entertained. 

After tossing all of your plastic ammo over the ball pit, you continue on your way. Somehow, you end up on the third level of the playplace next. 

“Okay, this is ridiculous,” you say as you follow Link across the net floor. “Where is this slide?” 

Link shrugs, and continues on leading the two of you along the large place. It’d be one thing if the two of you were circling, but no, these were different sections leading to previously explored ones, and spider-webbing into new ones, too. 

The fourth floor turns out to be the most open, made up primarily of that same netting, and truth be told, it was rather boring outside of a large semi-sphere plastic window. Link and you crouch down in it, looking out onto the street below. Your view was obstructed by the taller buildings around, but the street under you you could see really well. You watch a small bird fly by, disappearing behind a building on its way back to its nest, or on the search for bugs and seeds. A plastic bag drifts through the wind along with some lighter scraps of debris. 

Link’s knee is pressed against yours, the space in the window mildly crammed between the two of you. You look up at him, but his gaze is away, ears perked up as he studies the surrounding space on the playplace’s fourth floor. He looks surprisingly focused, despite the previously lighthearted atmosphere. You look around as well, attempting to follow his eyes. 

“Is everything alright?” You lean closer and whisper, anxiety creeping into your gut. 

Link doesn't say anything, and at first, you want to repeat yourself. Maybe he zoned out, or didn’t hear. But then, you hear something too. It’s a quiet sound, almost imperceptible, and if Link wasn't already on guard, you would’ve dismissed it as a play on the ear. You turn your head, following the noise to a stack of large cubes that sat at the corner of the floor. You reach for your baseball bat, and anxiety grips your heart when your hand finds nothing. You fool. You’re unarmed. This was supposed to be a trip to the lake to cool off in the hot weather. You didn't bring your bat with you, and given the fact that Link hasn’t pulled out his handgun either, he didn't bring anything too. 

Slowly, you take Link’s hand, and creep out of the vertical dome. Your socks muffle the sound of your footsteps, but it’s already sensed your presence. An ashy, almost greenish hand reaches out and grips one of the foam cubes, using it as leverage to pull its body up. The nails are dirty and brown around the edges, a sickly, yellow tint to the color. The skin around the nail had cracked, red flesh showing through as the fingers strained. You pull Link up to your full height, deciding to sacrifice stealth for speed. 

The zombie raises itself up as well, stumbling and struggling to balance on the soft, slightly bouncy surface. It becomes abundantly clear then that Link and you had never seen a truly ravenous undead. Its cheeks are sunken in, the contours of its skull pushing against skin, the sockets almost hollow around the edges of its cloudy eyes. 

It focuses on you, and takes a hasty step forward. The bouncy flooring propels it forward, and it crashes head-first into a pole. Unlucky for you, the pole is protected by a foam covering, so it doesn't do much more damage than simply sending it crashing down onto the floor. 

Link takes the opportunity to turn tail, pulling you along with him. You’re faster than the zombie by all means, and more balanced, but the thing has the advantage of all the discoordination of a flying cockroach. You vault over an obstacle, and drop down to the third floor. The zombie stumbles over the incline, and falls head-first after you. You don’t linger. Link leads you through the maze of a playplace — once a fun sort of confusing, now feeling more like a saw trap. 

You draw a circle through the third floor once before you stumble upon the exit onto the second floor. You’ve been able to throw the zombie off your tail somewhat, as it stumbles and falls over the obstacles meant for small children, but it’s gaining ground. Link rushes over the narrow bridge, but you’re forced to slow down as the net swings so you don't fall. Just before getting off, you give the net a good push, using it to propel yourself through. The zombie, with its poor balance, can’t keep its ground and falls. The bridge keeps swinging, pulling it along to its rhythm, and preventing it from getting up to its feet. It crawls forward, and Link and you bolt. 

The two of you continue on through the third floor of the playplace, attempting to find the opening in the floor down to the second floor. Your ears catch on to the sound of something hitting the foam wall a bit too close to you for comfort. The zombie was back to following you. You just can’t seem to shake it. 

You glance over your shoulder, watching it for a couple of seconds. When you turn your head again, you just manage to dodge a punching bag that had appeared in front of you. But it gives you an idea. You tug Link back, and grab the punching bag. 

“Help me launch this thing?” You ask, pulling the punching bag back. It’s rather heavy, but that’s even better for your cause. Link’s brows furrow, but he joins you, takes hold of the punching bag, and helps you pull it back. 

“On my count,” you order, watching the zombie bounce clumsily over in your direction. You had to time this right. “Three…two…one…” 

Just close enough.

“Now!” 

You and Link release the punching bag, and it goes swinging at a deep angle towards the zombie. The undead doesn't have the mental capacity to react until it’s already been hit smack in the chest, and sent sailing away. 

You take Link’s hand again, and run off, a grin on your face. And your joy only amplifies as you finally find it a few minutes later — 

“The slide! Finally,” you exclaim, pulling Link forward. 

This was perfect! The slide was a direct way to the first floor, and likely an exit, too. You separate from your companion, and take a seat on one of the slides. Link joins you in one not too far away. You push off, and enjoy the long way down. It’s still as fun as when you were a kid. At the end, you’re plunged into the ballpit, and have to shovel the plastic balls away from yourself to move away from the slide. You watch Link slide down with a smile. He’s a little awkward, likely not having been on a slide for a couple of years, but he looks like he’s having fun. 

He lands in the ballpin a few steps away, and you move the plastic balls aside, coming over to him. 

“Was that fun?” You ask. 

The answer you suspected is confirmed by a precious, lop-sided grin.

The two of you shovel through the ballpit, knee-deep in plastic balls, making your way out towards the opening to a corridor. Your lighthearted mood just about lasts, but you hear a sharp cry behind you. Whipping around, you watch as the zombie from earlier painfully topples and rolls down the slide. It lands in the ballpit, and is completely submerged. 

Everything falls silent. 

Link and you freeze, watching the plastic balls. Was it dead? That didn’t look like enough to knock out a zombie, but that didn’t look like a light fall, either. 

Your eyes scan about, anxiety building in you like a coil. Was that it? 

Maybe it was your imagination, maybe it was influenced by your anxiety. But the ballpit seemed like it was almost breathing.  

In a moment of split-second decision-making, you grab Link, pull the two of you out of there, and don’t look back. 

Over the following days, you’ve more or less recovered from the chase in the playplace and the ballpit. It was still hot outside, but it became more tolerable. Nonetheless, it was a reminder of the coming summer, unless it was already summer. You weren’t sure. 

One particularly hot and lazy day, Link decided to spend his time tinkering with your car. You figured that so long as he didn't break anything, it was fine. 

Link is messing with something under the hood while you stand nearby, leaning against the side of the car. Your ears strain for any other sound around you, your baseball bat hanging at your hip. Yet, there’s nothing. The area around the base has been relatively safe, but you were still on your guard just in case. The last thing you needed was to get bitten a second time. 

“I hope it still turns on once you’re done with it,” you tease lightheartedly. 

Link doesn’t respond, and continues to fiddle with the car. 

“Why’d you want to tinker with it, anyway? It seemed like it was running fine.” 

Link just shrugged, and you decided to leave the topic. You had your own theories — it was a hot day, and the two of you weren’t going on a supply run, but Link still wanted to feel productive. 

You lean your cheek against your hand, watching him check on something or other. The sun was relentless, and you were bored, too. At least you had something to look at. Link is checking over the different parts of the car, and as you watch him, you begin to attempt to decipher how much he actually knows about what he’s doing. You had faith in Link, of course, but it was entertaining to sleuth over any small pauses or changes in his stoic expression — a glance off to something else, a slight furrowing of the brows, the subtle curve of a smile or frown on his lips. 

Link looks up at you, an inquisitive expression on his face. Your eyes meet, and you know you’ve been caught red-handed. 

You smile, and avert your gaze off to something else, “sorry, I’m bored.” 

You turn your attention away from him altogether, instead looking around the street, and then your gaze wanders up to the sky. It was a cloudless day — pure and bright blue. Almost as blue as someone’s eyes. A flock of birds flew overhead, and most everything preferred to take shelter somewhere in the shade at the present moment. 

The buzzing reaches your ears before the sight does. A plane. Link looks up at the sound as well, and quickly places the hood of the car back down. Already? But there was a drop just a week ago. Nonetheless, when life gives you lemons, you may as well make the most of them. 

Link tosses you the keys, and you hop into the car, already reaching for the ignition. The car roars to life, and you make quick work of turning it around, and pursuing the chase. 

This time, the plane dispatches the crates sooner than previously. Typically, it would drop them further south, on the border of Central Hyrule and the Faron region. This time, the crates land further away from the border. Just your luck! 

You’re the first arrivals. How could you not be? Your car rushes over only a few seconds after the crates touch the ground. Still, when Link and you exit the car, you take the time to scan over the surroundings, but it appears that the two of you are alone. 

You approach the loot, but instead of two crates, find only one. But you definitely didn't see anything else drop. They must’ve only sent one out this time. 

“Only one? I guess that explains how little time had passed,” you muse, half to yourself. 

You reach into your pocket for lockpicks, but find them empty. You roll your eyes, this time truly just at yourself, and sigh. 

“Hey, Link?” You call behind you, studying the lock on the crate. “Can you grab me a lockpick? I put some in the glove compartment of the car.” 

No answer is returned back to you. 

“Link?” You ask, beginning to turn your head back. Something strikes you, and your vision goes black. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 21

Your head is throbbing, buzzing as though a hive of carpenter bees were trapped in your skull. The light is too bright, your eyes desiring nothing more but to close again. There is an unfamiliar scent in the air. This definitely is not your safehouse. 

You think someone speaks to you, but your brain is still attempting to make sense of the environment. You try to lift a hand up, to shield your eyes from the light, but someone places it back down. Someone says something again, but the meaning in the words is lost on you once more. It isn’t Link, that much you are certain of, unless Link’s voice suddenly became soft and melodic. 

It is soothing, despite the peculiar nature of it all. But your brain suddenly clicks, some brain cells managing to successfully rub together to form a thought. You force your eyes to open, if only a little bit. Your vision is blurry, and partially obscured by the bright light pointed at your face. You can also make out something red hovering. 

“ Hello? ” A far-off voice calls out. “ Can you hear me? ” 

You squint your eyes, attempting to focus on the form above you. Red…and white… and… an angel, surely. You’ve died. Yes, that makes perfect sense. That would explain some things. But hold on a second…red? You focus.

“…Mipha?” 

“ Oh! Yes…How are you feeling? ” The voice responds. 

You sigh. Your head hurts. Your thoughts are fuzzy. 

“Am I dead?” You ask. 

The voice is silent for a moment, before the red shape above you moves, “ no, don’t worry. ” 

Wait a second. Mipha? 

“Mipha?” You spring up, suddenly clear-headed. You look at the zora, and then around the room. The windows are all boarded up, and there is medical equipment placed all around the room. Where are you? The thought that follows is a simple one — 

“Link?” Your head whips around, your eyes finding your companion in the cot next to yours. You reach out towards him, your hand falling on his chest before Mipha gently pulls you back to your cot.

“[Name], please, rest. You’ve not fully recovered yet. You have a concussion,” she coaxed you to lie back, before glancing to Link. “He’s asleep, but he’s okay, don’t worry.” 

“Concussion?” You echo. Wow. “How’d that happen?” 

Mipha’s eyes widen for a second, and she looks away, attempting to find the right words. 

“That’s…not important right now,” she finally decides. “It’s minor, but you should still get some more sleep, too.”

You don’t have the energy to question her at the moment, still feeling lightheaded. 

“Are we in Zora’s Domain?” You ask instead, looking around the room again. You’ve never been to the city, but Link always spoke of it fondly. 

Mipha’s expression only lowers at the mention, though. A small frown makes its way onto her face, and she shakes her head.

“No, this is Lurelin,” she corrects, tone solemn. 

“ Lurelin? ” Your brows rise. Lurelin? The fishing town out east on the Faron coast? 

“Wha- how?” You question, almost ready to spring out of your cot again. Lurelin was so far away from Central Hyrule. 

“[Name], please, I know that this is a shock, but you have to lay back down,” Mipha insisted gently. “Everything will be explained soon, but we have to make sure you’re alright first.” 

You wake again the following day. Mipha brings you breakfast. Food. And not only food, but fresh food. 

Your jaw drops, and you reach out for the plate, “mashed potatoes?” 

Mipha smiles and nods, “yeah, Lurelin isn’t the best region for farming, but we manage to get a few things to grow. The fish is also freshly caught. One of the benefits of living on the coast.”

You take the plate from the zora, and dig in. The food is warm and fresh, and though it lacks any spices, you’re used to bland food by now. Breakfast had never tasted better. 

You glance over to Link’s cot, and find it empty. 

“Where’s Link?” You ask between bites. You look back down at your food, simultaneously realizing that this whole plate is just yours. Not shared between you and your companion. 

“He already ate,” Mipha explains, putting away a few vials of something or other. “He told me to tell you that he’ll be looking around, and to go find him after breakfast.” 

You nod, stuffing another spoonful of mashed potatoes into your mouth. You finish breakfast quickly, thank Mipha, and get up to leave. Just as you do though, the door to the room bursts open, and something red runs through. 

“Mipha! The samples are ready!” 

You whip your head around, and see a little zora child, the same vibrant red as Mipha. He’s wearing simple, light clothing, and the tail on the back of his head is rather oversized, trailing behind him. 

“Oh! Thank you, Sidon,” Mipha smiles, before noticing that you’re watching. She gives you a sheepish, almost apologetic expression. 

“Who’s this?” You ask. 

“This is my brother, Sidon,” she explains, giving him a gentle push as a signal to turn and say hi. 

The zora child looks at you, and after a moment, gives you the cutest, most precious grin you’ve ever seen. 

“Hi, Sidon,” you greet him, unable to prevent the smile that forms on your face even if you wanted to. 

“Alright, you go run and play now,” his sister bids him off. 

He nods, and waves to the two of you enthusiastically, “bye!” 

You watch him run off through the door again, the tail trailing behind him making the sight rather comical. After he’s out of the room, you look back at Mipha, “does he help you here?” 

She shakes her head, “no, but if he decides to visit, the other medics sometimes tell him any information to relay back to me.” 

You nod, before asking, “what samples was he talking about?” 

Once more, her expression turns apologetic, “Blood samples. We took some from Link and you for testing. Sorry.”

The concept of having blood taken from you unknowingly is not a pleasant one, but you can’t fault the medic in the middle of a zombie outbreak, either. 

“And you’re just letting Link and I out without looking at the results?” You ask, not wishing to be confrontational. 

“If there was something wrong, Link and you would already be displaying the signs by now,” Mipha reasoned. “I don't expect to find anything peculiar in your results. Not to mention, your vitals showed nothing out of the ordinary.” 

You decide to trust the medic, and nod, before following after her to the door. The two of you part ways in the hallway so that you can go and look for Link.

“[Name]!” Mipha calls back to you as you reach for the door. 

“Yeah?” You raise a brow, turning back to her. 

“It’s going to take a few days for housing quarters to be arranged for Link and you, so when you’re done, come back to the hospital,” she said.

You nod in understanding, and give her a smile, which she returns. 

You exit the small hospital, and are hit by the gentle sea breeze the moment you open the door. The sun is shining bright outside. There’s the faint sound of seagulls calling overhead. The streets are partially covered with sand that no one’s bothered to sweep away. The air is salty. 

You look around at the wind-worn buildings, and in the distance, you see the border of town. The streets are empty save for a couple of children, who are quietly playing amongst each other, and run off when you approach. The town is cut off from the rest of Hyrule by a barbed wire fence, with a similar gate leading into it. There are watchmen stationed at makeshift towers at the entrance. You decide not to bother them. Beyond the barbed wire fence, you see the beginnings of Faron’s lush rainforest. 

You spot your car, parked by the entrance. It sits next to another, similarly big car — a dirty, off-white pickup truck. You come up to it with a smile, and pet the hood gently, before leaving it to hang out with its new friend. 

Turning away from the fence, you head in the opposite direction, and make your way towards the coast. The sea is calm today. The skies are clear, and the water is blue, lapping at the shore. You don’t head into the sand so that you won’t have to dig it out of your shoes, socks, and skin later. Instead, you head in the direction of the pier. 

At an entrance to the beach, you spot something interesting — a large sign, with red graffiti on it. REMEMBER: ZOMBIES CAN’T SWIM , it reads. Walking around the town more, you begin to notice sign after sign with the same words: zombies can’t swim , with red arrows pointing in what you quickly figure out is the direction to the sea. 

You keep on walking and studying the fishing town — the abandoned tourist attractions, the shops turned storage and housing areas, the chipping, colorful beach houses and hotels.

You’re distracted, so when you hear your name called out, you’re slow to react. You turn your head towards the sound that could’ve honestly been the wind. 

But it wasn’t. You don’t realize it until you catch a glimpse of long, blonde hair, and feel arms wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you into a hug. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 22

You’re startled, but it doesn’t last for long. You quickly recognize exactly who had run up to hug you. 

“Zelda!” You exclaim, laughing as you return the hug. 

Laughter erupts from her as well, and she squeezes you a little harder. The two of you had been friends back in school. Zelda was often busy with studies and extracurriculars, but she was friendly, and did her best to make time for her friends. You look over her shoulder, and see Link standing nearby, the corners of his lips upturned subtly. You give him a smile of greeting as well, before Zelda pulls away. 

“I can’t believe you’re alive!” She’s still smiling as though the knowledge has made her whole week. And maybe it has. You had attempted to rid yourself of any thought of the people you knew before the apocalypse as a way to not depress yourself further. The chances of them being alive were low, and you didn’t want to dwell on that. Yet, here Zelda is. And Mipha is back at the hospital, too. You don’t know her as well personally, but you know that Link and Mipha are childhood friends. 

Zelda looks different since the last time that you’ve seen her. Her long hair is pulled back and rather matted. Her skin is tanner and dirty in some areas. Dark circles had formed under her eyes. But her smile stayed the same — bright and warm as the sun. 

“When our supply crates began to go missing, I would’ve never thought it was you two,” she continues. “Father was so mad, he nearly waged a fight with our supplier. Impa suggested—”

“Wait, hold on a second,” you interupt. “ Impa? ”

Zelda nods enthusiastically, “ yes, Impa’s here too! She typically organizes our supply runs. She was the one who suggested curating an ambush on whoever was stealing our supplies…which just happened to be you two.” 

Your eyes grow wide, and you glance at Link, and exchange a ‘we screwed up’ look. Zelda notices, and chuckles. 

“Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble,” she reassured. “We get it — survival of the fittest. And we had been aware of someone else living over in Central Hyrule for a while now.”

“Really?” You ask, turning back to her. You had no clue there were other survivors aside from the supply crates. 

Zelda nodded again, “yes. Somewhere in the middle of winter, a group of our runners caught sight of fireworks, but didn’t investigate. Then, even before that, Impa found these two makeshift boats out of tree bark with some initials scratched into one of them. Maybe the other had some too — they were together — but that one was badly damaged.” 

Your mouth falls agape, your mind returning back to that day in the fall. Link and you were washing clothes by the river when you got bored, and decided to take a break and make a little boat out of tree bark. You would’ve never guessed those two had gone so far and stuck together, too! You look back at Link and smile. He looks equally surprised, and returns your smile. 

“I’m glad it was you two, though,” Zelda confessed, and addressed you once more. “I was just showing Link around the town, if you want to join the tour?”

You nod, looking around, “that would be nice.” 

The three of you set out, guided by Zelda as she leads you through the refurbished fishing town. 

“We still do a lot of fishing,” she explains, coming up to thz pier. You look out to the calm sea, taking in the view. In the distance, you spot a few figures in boats, standing over the water, or sitting down with a fishing rod. 

You continue on, looking this way and that as Zelda points things out on the street. She shows Link and you the various storage areas — for consumables, weapons, materials, and other things. 

“All of the medicine is kept in the hospital, though,” she notes. That made sense, though the structure and order of things still baffled you a little. 

“And all of this was organized by your father?” You ask, looking back at everything that you’d already passed. 

“In part,” Zelda confesses. “The remaining Lurelin locals are also a big help.” 

She spins on her heel suddenly, remembering something. She turns to Link, and points out with a beam, “and Purah’s been helping around here, too!” 

Link smiles at the mention of this individual as well, but you’re left in the dark. The name sounds vaguely familiar, but that could also just be your brain blindly attempting to put a face to it. 

You look between Link and Zelda, and then ask slowly, uncertain if you are already supposed to know the answer, “who’s Purah?” 

Zelda turns her attention back to you, surprised. 

“You don’t know Purah?” She asks, no judgment in her voice. You shake your head, and she smiles and waves you onwards down the street. “I can’t believe you don’t know Purah! That’s alright, we’ll introduce you.” 

Zelda leads you towards a bigger building, and speak of the devil! As you approach, an explosion sounds. 

“No panic! Everything is under control!” A voice calls out from inside. The door swings open, and grey smoke floods out. Two young women come out — one familiar to you, and the other one new entirely. She wore a lab coat, and goggles sat on top of her head. There must’ve been a red streak in her white hair at one point, but now, it’s faded into a discolored, orangish, pinkish hue. 

“What in the name of Hylia are you doing in there?!” One exclaims, waving a hand in front of her to disperse the smoke. “We gave you this lab for research, not to draw the undead closer to here!” 

“Loosen up a little, Impa!” The other retorts with an unbothered smile. “There are no zombies for a couple of miles, and even if there were, Lurelin is well protected, in part thanks to you~”

Impa catches on to the attempt to butter her up, and rolls her eyes, before she notices that the two have an audience. 

She gives you, Link, and Zelda a small smile of greeting, “ah, I see you two are awake.”

You nod, returning the greeting smile. 

“Sorry about knocking you out and bringing you here,” she continues, expression turning more apologetic. “We didn’t know that it was you two stealing from us.” 

You shake your head, and hold your arms up in mock surrender, “no hard feelings, we get it.” 

The other young woman smiles widely, stopping next to Impa, and exclaims, “well, look who we have here! Hey, Zelda. Hey, Linky. Oh, and I don’t think we’ve met.” 

She turns her attention to you, but your mind has to do a double take at a previous sentence. Linky? You attempt to suppress a giggle, but it’s difficult when you glance at your companion, noticing the mild reaction he has to the nickname as well. 

You decide that you can pick on him a little later though, and instead clear your throat, extending a hand. 

“I’m [Name]” you introduce yourself with your best smile. 

“Purah,” the Sheikah woman shakes your hand. 

“Purah is a researcher here,” Zelda chimes in with an explanation. 

“Yeah,” she nods, “I specialize in tech, but I’m now working closely with the hospital and Mipha, too. There’s also Robbie — he’s an engineer around here — but he’s off on an expedition right now, so you won’t see him.” 

The five of you continue talking, catching up, and explaining what’s been happening in the Central Hyrule and Faron regions. Zelda reveals that Lanayru had been largely wiped out. They didn’t know what the situation looked like in Hebra, Eldin, or the Gerudo Desert. Robbie and a small group of runners were on an investigation into the Akkala region currently, but that was also the region that had been infected first when the outbreak began, so they had to monitor the group’s location closely. They hoped that the expedition would yield some knowledge on the current situation, and give a relative number of undead present, and where they preferred to stick to. The coast of Faron Sea was currently the safest place in Hyrule, to their knowledge.

The sun had begun to set at the end of the day, the sea air growing chilly. Purah had returned back to her lab, and Impa left the group to do some tasks that needed to be completed around the base. 

“By the way,” Zelda says as the three of you stand on the pier, looking out towards the sea. “I trust that Mipha already told you, but we’re not going to have lodging ready for you two yet for a couple of days. You can stay at the hospital until then, but it would be helpful for us to know what your preferences are. We’ve turned the hotels down the street into communal housing buildings. We can either house you two together in a room, or in separate ones.”

It’s been so long at this point living with Link and sharing a mattress that you honestly had to contemplate the question, taking your gaze away from the sea. On one hand, it’d be nice to have your own private space again, but on the other, you’re so used to Link at this point. You look at him, attempting to gauge his own preference. 

Link looks at you, asking the same. Damn…

“Uh…” you struggle for an answer, not sounding remotely sure of your answer. “Well, I guess…separate?”

“You don’t have to decide now,” Zelda reassures. “It’s not too much trouble. Anyway, you should head back to the hospital for now. Sun’s going down.”

She looks up at the setting sun, the last of its rays reflected orange, pink, and red in the fluffy clouds floating over the sea. Anxiety dances in her green eyes — one that you and Link share. 

“Alright,” you speak up. “Thank you for showing us around, Zelda. It’s been great to see you again.” 

Zelda turns back to you, gaze flickering to Link briefly as well. She smiles, and nods, “you too. Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight, Zelda,” your smile grows as you wave her goodbye, and begin making your way off the pier. 

Link gives Zelda a smile and a nod, before following after you. The evening air is cool and quiet. The only sound is that of Link’s footsteps in rhythm to yours, and the soft buzz of ultraviolet lamps that had begun to turn on around the base. 

Link falls in line with you, and you giggle behind a hand, remembering something from the beginning of the day. He looks over at you, his bright blue eyes sparkling beneath the starry skies. He lifts an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curling up in slight amusement. 

You bite back another giggle, lowering your voice as if talking about a secret.

“ ‘Linky’? ” You tease.

His smile drops instantly, and he elbows you, though that action only elicits more laughter. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 23

Link and you return back to the hospital, the building brightly lit by the ultraviolet lamp posts. It continues to grow ever darker outside, the sun now disappearing beneath the horizon. You’re on your way to the cots when you hear your name.

“[Name],” Mipha says, peeking out from a different room. She kept her voice quiet and secretive. Clearly, this was a conversation meant only for you, and you separated from Link with a small wave. 

“Mipha?” You ask, slipping into the room after her. 

You find yourself in an emptier room, with mostly a shelf of boxes, and a few old pieces of equipment. Despite the fact that the floor had been scrubbed clean, you still notice the long since dry blood in the crevices between tile. Your ears perk up as you hear the door click behind you. 

“How are you feeling, [Name]?” Mipha asks, her expression a gentle frown. She looks at you like a mother who’s discovered that you’ve failed a math quiz. 

Your eyes glance at the door, which the doctor now blocks, and then back to her yellow eyes, “yeah..? I feel fine. Is everything alright?” 

You are beginning to get a bad feeling about all of this. Mipha looks at you with regret, one of her hands never leaving the pocket of her lab coat. Did the tests reveal something after all? But you did feel fine, unless…

“[Name], where’s the bite?” Mipha asks. 

You freeze, eyes widening. The bite. How did she know? Did the tests show it? 

Slowly, you raise your hands up in a gesture of surrender, showing that they were empty. You take a slow step back. 

“Mipha, I can explain-” you begin, your words as careful as your actions, but she cuts you off. 

“You know I don’t want to do this, [Name]. I care about you, and so do Link and Zelda, but my brother is here, and so is everyone else. I have a duty.” 

She truly does look regretful, but you understood her reasoning, and you have to explain yourself quickly before you receive a bullet somewhere. 

You pull back the collar of your shirt, revealing the bite to the Zora, “here. It’s right here. But it’s old. I got it…maybe two months ago? You can ask Link, it was still in the beginning of spring.” 

Cautiously, Mipha comes closer to you, and you turn yourself so that she can take a better look. Her brows furrow in confusion, and she shakes her head as she studies the old wound, already fully healed outside of the indentation.

“But how?” She asks, partially to herself. “If you were infected, you should’ve turned.” 

You sigh, nodding, “we don’t know either. It was a surprise for Link and I, too.” 

“And this was months ago?” 

“More or less, yeah.” 

Silence falls over the two again. Mipha continues to stare down at the scar on your shoulder. After an eternity, she nods, her hand emerging out of her coat pocket. 

“Would you mind telling me more?” She asks, her voice softer as she moves to unlock the door. 

You grab Link, and stay up with Mipha to explain how you got bit, and what happened afterwards. She jots down notes throughout your tale, and asks a couple of questions. At the end, she nods, and closes her notebook. 

“You’re incredibly lucky,” she concludes, a small smile returning to her face. 

You nod in agreement, unable to deny the fact that Hylia really must’ve smiled down upon you that day. 

“Would you mind if I perform a couple more tests?” Mipha asks, and quickly reassures, “nothing major. I just want to take a couple more samples from you tomorrow, or whenever you’re comfortable.” 

Your eyes flit over to Link, who looks back at you. It was your decision, and he wasn’t going to oppose.

“Sure, whatever helps you,” you agree with a smile. 

“Thank you,” Mipha’s own smile grows. She gets up from the chair, and places her notebook on the desk, titled Outbreak Log.  

It peaks your interest, and you decide to ask, “you keep a log?” 

Mipha glances over her shoulder, raising a brow. Then, she seems to catch on to your question. 

“Oh, no. Not really. It’s more so a log of common knowledge. Zombie terminology, everything else we already know about the outbreak. We’ve got a couple of these around Lurelin, this is just one copy. Do you want to read it?” She picked the notebook up, offering it to you. 

You take it with a grateful nod, flipping it over to study the back and the front. You take a brief look through the pages, holding it so Link can see as well. He leans in closer, his own curiosity peaked. It looks like quite a bit of information, and the beginning even has some photos. 

“Thanks, Mipha,” you say, closing the notebook. “I’ll return it to you.” 

Just as Zelda said, Link and you are moved into the hotel a few days later. You’re given an old-fashioned key, and directly up to the fourth floor. The building is worn down by salt and a lack of habitants and service. Nonetheless, it’s not bad, if a little smaller than your safe house. There’s a bathroom, a kitchenette, a big bed that’s not just a mattress on the floor. It has a frame. The windows were boarded up, but that was a given. 

What’s not to like? 

Except for a lack of company…

Your wristwatch had long since stopped beeping to signify the coming of night. The outside world was silent after the nightcrawlers had yelled out their calls to remind the living world of their threatening existence. And that was the problem — the silence. The cold. The emptiness of the sheets next to you. 

The bed had time to warm, sure, and you were comfortably stripped down to your nightwear, but you were alone. For the first time in many, many months, you were alone for the night. Safe, yes, but alone. 

You remember when you used to get annoyed at Link for snoring, or for taking up the majority of the bed and pushing you out into a corner in his sleep, or hogging the blankets. Now, though, lying here in your own bed, you find yourself very willing to be a little chilly if only he would be next to you. 

You made the decision, though. You told Zelda that you wanted separate rooms. Link probably didn’t have any trouble falling asleep — he slept like a rock, while you were left tossing and turning. It didn’t help one bit that this was a new and unfamiliar place, either. You didn’t feel fully comfortable here yet, it was different in smell, in texture, in sound. 

You sit up in bed, staring down the door at the corner of the room. He settled just across the hall from you. Your eyes fall to the floor, debating whether to step out onto the cold laminate. But what good would it do? Link slept without a care in the world, and if you were to get up and go knock on his door now, you’d be more likely to wake up your neighbors than him. You sigh, and lie back down. 

Rolling onto your side, you shut your eyes, and attempt to go to sleep. What rouses you this time is a knock on the door — soft, almost reluctant. 

You sit back up, blinking in confusion. Who would be knocking at this hour? Slowly, you get out of bed, moving carefully, and attempting to make as little noise as possible, just in case. You crack the door open a sliver, before opening it up more. You can’t help the grin that splits your face. Link stands there, also in his pajamas — have your prayers been answered? 

“Hi,” you greet him softly, not wanting to wake up anyone else. 

“Hi,” he responds, subtly fidgeting with his hands. “Can I come in?” 

It seems Hylia had heard you. 

“Why, you found a bug in your room?” You tease, already stepping aside to let him in. He shakes his head, slipping into your room. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” he confesses, but doesn’t elaborate further. Still, you sense that your reasons may be similar. 

“Well, you’re in luck! My bed doesn’t have any monsters under it — don’t worry, I’ve checked,” you joke, closing the door after Link. 

The corners of his lips curl in a small smile, and you make your way back to bed, feeling much lighter now. You climb back under the warm covers, and open up your arms in a silent invitation. Link hesitates for a moment, but the instance of reluctance fleets quickly, and he lays down next to you, his head occupying your shoulder. 

Finally, you’re able to relax. With a content sigh, your eyes drift shut, your nose filling with the scent of his hair. It’s nice to have a warm body next to you, and it makes you feel safer. If you ignored the salt that hung in the air, you could pretend like you’re back home in your base. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 24

Seagulls call over the sandy shores. Waves lap at the solid ground as it meets the soft, warm sand. The air holds a hint of salty humidity. The sun greets the boats as they’re swept along with their fishermen into the blue, rich waters. 

And the sun greets you as well, a curious child peeking in through the gaps in old driftwood boards nailed to the windows. Your companion is still nestled against you, warm, comfortable, and asleep. It takes you a moment to register where you are when your eyes open, and you reach a hand up to rub the sleep out of them. Your first attempt to move proves ineffective — you’re being crushed to death. 

Not really. 

Link has splayed himself over you in his sleep, but at least he’s light, so it’s not terribly bothersome. Nonetheless, it appears like you’re stuck in bed for the foreseeable future. You would get annoyed, but then remember how you couldn’t fall asleep last night, and all is quickly forgiven. 

Your fingers thread through his hair, avoiding any knots to the best of your ability. The action is soothing, and Link’s hair is soft. Or, as soft as apocalypse hair could be. You watch the sunlight dance over the locks as you play with them, making them shine like gold. Link stirs, but of course, doesn’t wake up. Subconsciously, he pulls himself closer to the warmth that you offer. It’s endearing, but it also does make you wonder — what are you doing? Laying in bed, cuddled up to your companion, your fingers running through his hair. 

It’s comfortable, but from the outside perspective, assumptions would be undeniable. You can feel your heart skip a beat, but you quickly shake it off. So what? It didn’t matter how close Link and you were. You were stuck together during the outbreak for months upon months, of course you’d become close. You sigh, and settle back against the pillow, your fingers continuing to mindlessly card through his hair. 

Your eyes wander around the room, looking for something to pass the time until Sleeping Beauty wakes up. They fall onto the journal that Mipha had given you, laying on the bedside table where you left it yesterday. You haven’t had the time to read it yet, but now looks like you’ve got nothing better to do anyway. 

You pick up the notebook, and prop it up against Link so that you can read comfortably while holding on to it with one hand. You flip through the first couple of pages, skimming through the text. It’s some general notes that you already know about the start of the outbreak. It began in Akkala, and continued to spread throughout Hyrule, until the quarantine zones progressively merged into one large, red mass over the nation. The TVs went out first, followed by radios. Hyruleans fell into a panic all over the nation. 

You continue to flip through the pages. The handwriting in the notebook varies. Clearly, multiple people had edited it. You learn a little bit more about the other regions of Hyrule — No one knows what’s become of Akkala. The infection spread throughout lower Eldin. Zora’s Domain, beloved tourist site and trade center, had been caught by surprise. Mipha and Sidon were evacuated along with a small group of Zoras, but Dorephan and many others remained. There’s more written for this section, more detail that sounds like a first-hand account, and additional notes etched out in elegant handwriting. 

The outbreak continued on towards Central Hyrule in the late summer. That sounded about right, from your own memories. You were enjoying summer break, and desperately attempting to thwart away the back-to-school spirit. Perhaps you were a little too insistent on avoiding school. 

From Lanayru, the outbreak made its way south into Necluda. First, it overtook the west, and then ran for the east. Once more, the handwriting changes, this time etched down rougher as new details are given. In West Necluda, Kakariko proved to be the safest town to be in, shielded by the surrounding mountaintops. All roads and paths to it  were swiftly blocked off, and no one’s heard from it since. The notes are brief, and the handwriting soon reverts back to another one. This time, its focus is on East Necluda. As an extra repercussion, Fort Hateno, an old, historic sight, had been utilized to block off the many roads leading into the region. It held strong for months, until the infection broke through it. Many people fled every which way, many taking to Hateno sea, and making their way south to Lurelin. 

From Central Hyrule, the infection spread to Tabantha. No one’s heard from the Rito residents since, and the last word that had been heard from the Gerudo was when the infection had spread to the brink of the desert. The zombies didn’t thrive in the hot and humid conditions of Faron, but that didn’t mean that the region was safe, either. Once more, people scattered, attempting to return back home to family and relatives, or seek refuge in another region. Zelda and her father were evacuated to Lurelin also, and since then, he’d become the leader of the small community that’s formed. The beachside town had quickly been reinforced, and a system was created to optimize the residential survival. 

You flip over a couple of pages, and stumble upon a surprisingly familiar structure of a list — it’s the zombie terminology that had been created by the residents. 

Stage I: Infection 

Duration: 10-12 hours

Desc: Saliva makes its way into the bloodstream, typically via a bite wound that breaks skin. Victim progressively becomes more aggressive. If the bitten limb is not amputated within 3 hours, it is too late for them. 

Stage II: Viral 

Duration: 2 months

Desc: The victim has lost their mind. They may attempt to fool you, but do not fall for it. It is not them anymore. Virals are the most dangerous undead that you may encounter during the light. Their auditory senses are enhanced, and their bodies are still capable of sprinting and climbing. Stand your ground and show no mercy. 

Stage III: Biter

Duration: Unknown

Desc: The most common type to encounter. These undead have decayed, and slowed. Powered by hunger, they wobble towards anything living, and is in some cases alright with making another zombie their next meal. They have poor coordination and senses, yet nonetheless shouldn’t be underestimated. 

Additional variants: 

Variant: Volatile 

Duration: Unknown

Desc: The most dangerous undead to encounter. They come out after sunset, and are stronger and swifter than Virals. They are afraid of ultraviolet light , and disappear once more at sunrise. It is unknown where they flee. 

Your brows furrow as you study the short list. Some images are provided next to each section as well. The Volatile is the only one who has just one — the angle makes it appear as though it had been taken from above, likely from one of the lookout towers near the gates to the town. It is illuminated by violet light, it’s mouth open in a silent roar that you can almost hear yourself. Its head is turned towards the photographer, or rather, where the light came from, body tensed and beady eyes filled with rage. 

An uncomfortable shiver runs down your spine, and you cover the photo with your hand, not wanting to look at it anymore. Instead, you return your gaze back to the words on the pages. 

“‘ Biter ?’” You muse under your breath, shaking your head in amusement. “ Like all of them don’t bite .” 

Your moment of amusement is brief, as your eyes float higher, to Stage I . 

“‘ Duration: ten to twelve hours… ’” you read out to yourself again, and fall silent. Ten to twelve hours. You were supposed to turn in a matter of hours . Not days like you previously assumed. Hours . Yet, your torture was elongated to a business week. For whatever reason — and likely the same for why you were still conscious and not feasting on the remains of your companion back at your base — the infection slowed down significantly in you. Was your immune system simply better? Was it something else? You’d have to ask Mipha about it when you return the notebook. 

For now, though, you close it, and place it back onto the bedside table. You don’t want to think about that right, or remember it, for that matter. Your hands return to brushing through the golden blonde locks of the boy slumbering over you. Link’s presence provides some comfort.

Chapter Text

Chapter 25

Life in Lurelin quickly turned out to be very different. There were set breakfast and dinner times when food would be given out, and everyone would eat together. Any leftovers would be reused the following day, or provided to the manual laborers of the community. It was strange, and a lot suddenly felt out of your control, but what were you to do? The alternative was getting thrown back out, and while Link and you had lived fine so far, you were miles away from your old base, and it was rather nice having other people around. Not to mention, you would occasionally get fresh food to eat, primarily in the form of fish. Zelda has shown Link and you the community garden that had been created, too, and that housed mighty banana trees, Hylian tomato plants, a few apple trees, and even a couple of hearty radishes. It was safe to assume that soon enough, you’d be treated to even more fresh produce, and you couldn’t miss that. 

Just yesterday, you’d gotten your first taste of palm fruit. It was unique, but didn’t have any profound taste. Still, it tasted better than anything out of a can. 

Link and you also tried to help out around town, with some guidance from Zelda. Two pairs of hands, however new and confused, were welcome pretty much everywhere. Sometimes you would be tasked with helping out at one of the hotels, or managing storage, or washing something or other, if not lugging fresh water for the hospital. You couldn’t say that you loved doing these things, and there were days when you returned back to your room with Link with soreness in your limbs, and no greater desire than to sleep it all off, but there were other days when you could sit back and enjoy the sunshine and the warm seawater. 

On one such day, you offered to help Mipha at the hospital with some simple work — pass this, put away that — while Link was outside, spending time with Sidon. There weren’t too many other kids Sidon’s age in the community, let alone Zora. Link wasn’t much of a young Zora child, either, but at least it was someone Sidon was really familiar with. Mipha was often busy at the hospital, and unable to spend much time with him. 

You watch through the window as the two play with a ball. Occasionally, your audience was noticed, and you received a smile or a wave. It was cute, and you never would’ve guessed that Link would be good with kids. 

You hear the door swing open, and Mipha reenter the room. You turn away from the window, and look up at her instead. As always, she wears a soft, yet worn expression.

“Have the results come back yet?” You ask out of curiosity. 

Mipha just shakes her head, before elaborating, “not yet.” 

Not wanting to sound rude, you ask nonchalantly, “what’s taking so long?” 

“There’s something strange in your blood,” she explained. “We’re trying to figure out what it is.”

“Is it life-threatening?” 

“No. Not to my knowledge. Have you been feeling alright?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Then likely not.” 

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you once more, but it’s easily broken, this time by Mipha. 

“Thank you for returning the Outbreak Log.” 

You look back up at her, and smile, “thank you for lending it to me. It was informative.” 

You pause, but suddenly remember something else you wanted to address, “I noticed that there’s a zombie terminology entry in there. I have one of those in my notebook.” 

“Really?” Mipha asked, her eyes briefly flitting to you as she stood by the counter, putting away various medical instruments.

“Yeah, but I think Link and I have encountered a couple that weren’t written down on there.” 

Mipha’s brows rose, and she turned her full attention to you, alarmed, yet curious, “you have?”

“Yeah. The day that I got bit, Link and I were on a supply run. We decided to try an apartment building we haven’t been to yet, and we heard this muffled whimpering sound. It was coming from a nursery…”

You have to pause, reliving the memories of that day. The infant, the Shrieker… you shake your head, waving the memory off. Any nightmares would be relived at night, but during the day, you did your best not to think about any of that. 

“We found a baby in the crib, but it was also undead,” you continue, averting your gaze from the Zora. “When we got closer, it let out this piercing, ear-shattering scream. I know that normal babies are loud, but this one was like twenty of them combined. It was trying to draw other zombies closer to us.” 

The silence that follows your explanation is deafening. Mipha’s expression is a mix of horror and concern. You begin to regret telling her anything. 

“And there was another time, even earlier,” you go on, this time more hesitantly. “Link and I decided to raid our old school, and we separated briefly in the cafeteria. I went into the kitchen, and I’m not one hundred percent sure what happened, but I think a zombie exploded.” 

“Exploded?” 

“Yes, I didn’t see it, but there was a loud blast, I was knocked down, and there was blood and pieces of flesh everywhere, even though I wasn’t injured.” 

Mipha’s brows furrow, and after a period of thought, she asks, “and these have been one-off encounters?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Well, that is valuable information nonetheless. Thank you, [Name].” 

You open your mouth to respond, but instead, in a miraculous form of subconscious thinking, you dodge forward, evading a ball that flies in through the open window. You freeze, your head whipping around to follow it. Luckily, it bounces off an empty wall, and rolls back to you. You turn back to look through the window, where you see Link and Sidon. Both are frozen as well, Link with a hand clasped over his mouth. 

“Sorry!” Sidon calls out, and you find yourself unable to be upset at the small child. 

You sigh, and look back at Mipha. She looks like her life just flashes before her eyes, and pinches the bridge of her nose. With a tired voice, she gestures to the window, “throw the ball back to them.” 

You pick up the ball that had huddled at your feet, and toss it back through the window to the two. Sidon’s face lights up, and he beams, running off to catch it, “thank you!” 

Mipha returns back to cleaning her medical equipment, and you turn away from the window once more. Your eyes follow after the medic, once more taking in the dark circles under her eyes, and the worn expression. Your mind returns back to the events summarized in the Outbreak Log, and what happened to Zora’s Domain. Your gaze wanders to the window, watching Link and Sidon return to their play. Sidon was smiling happily, and giggling as he kicked the ball. 

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” You ask Mipha. 

She glances at you, and shakes her head with a soft smile, “I don’t think so. How have you and Link been?” 

You glance out the window again, watching him and Sidon. He has a real smile on his face, for once in a blue moon. 

“Not half bad,” you answer, not even noticing the corners of your lips turning upward. “The manual labor is hard, but on the other hand, I get food, water, and shelter for free, so there’s not much to complain about.” 

“That’s fair. Though, if you don’t want to do manual labor around the community, you can try something else — fishing, farming, being a medical assistant,” Mipha suggested, listing off a few different jobs off the top of her head. “Alternatively, you could become a runner. I’m certain you know the dangers though, but we do need them. The only consistent one we have right now is Impa, and everyone else does something else around Lurelin part time.” 

You can’t say that the notion of having to go out again and worry about zombies with every step you take was any pleasant, but it does get you thinking about your previous base. There were still a lot of supplies housed there that could be transferred over here. Not to mention, all of your clothes were there too, and your weapons and other things. 

“I’ll talk to Impa about that,” you decide, to Mipha’s surprise. 

“Oh, well, good luck out there,” she nods, her brows raised. “Don’t get yourself killed, please.” 

The sun is setting over the ocean when you and Link return back to your room. It’d been a more relaxed day, which was much needed, but now, you have to bring up your idea to him. You lock the door after the two of you, not having any plans to head out again today. Link flops down on the bed with a comfortable sigh, sprawling out across the mattress. You smile, and take a seat on the edge of the bed. 

“And where do you propose I sleep?” You tease, shaking his shoulder to get his attention. 

“Link,” you say, your voice more serious. “I want to talk to you about something.” 

He turns his head, his bright blue eyes meeting your own. His expression is inquisitive, and he waits patiently for you to continue. 

“Do you like it here?” You ask first, before you say anything else. Link blinks in confusion, and then nods hesitantly. He cocks his head to the side, as though to ask what brought this on or gauge your own opinion. 

You nod as well, and explain, “we’ve got a lot of supplies back at our base. Supplies that Lurelin could use. If we stay here, we may as well move them back here instead of letting them go bad. Mipha said that Impa organizes the supply runs – we could talk to her.” 

Link considers your words, seeing some sense in the explanation. He nods in approval. 

You smile, and then pose the riskier question, “and…how do you feel about going on supply runs again, as a whole?” 

Link is hesitant once more this time, but not entirely opposed. Supply runs were dangerous, but the two of you were used to it by now. Especially if you got to do it together. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 26

Impa was in the front seat, her eyes on the road as the truck veered out of the way of static, driverless traffic. You sit in shotgun, with Link’s hand on the back of your seat, watching Impa drive over your shoulder. Zelda sits with Link in the back, cleaning the lens of her camera. She wasn’t supposed to come initially, but the three of you ran into her on the way to the car. She’d just gotten her camera fixed, and when you told her where you were headed, she really wanted to come along, despite Impa’s insistence that it was too dangerous for her. 

“So, it’s just the two of you?” The Sheikah’s voice cuts through the silence. 

“Yeah, pretty much since everything fell apart,” you confirm, Link nodding along to your answer. 

“I’m surprised,” Impa smiles, eyes fixed on the pavement ahead of the car. “Not that I don’t have faith in you two, but establishing some sort of order in Lurelin was not for the weak. People almost ate each other alive.” 

She pauses for a moment, and mutters, “sorry, poor choice of words.” 

You giggle, and shrug, “well, I don’t know about Link, but I knew that I couldn’t survive out on my own, and better someone who I know and trust rather than a total stranger.” 

“Fair enough. So, where’d you settle?” 

“A strange little one-room apartment with a trapdoor in the ceiling.” 

“A trapdoor?” Zelda perks up, looking up from her camera in curiosity.

“Yeah. I don’t know who needed a trapdoor there, but I couldn’t be more grateful for whomever did. The building also has some weak power,” you answer. 

“That’s rare nowadays. I’m beginning to wonder if Hylia has favorites,” Impa jokes dryly. 

You snicker, and go on with your description, “the bedroom door was boarded up and barricaded even before we stumbled upon the apartment, and Link and I didn’t want to investigate, so we set up the sleeping quarters in the corner of the main room. We also have a lot of blankets and sheets, if you want to take those, too.” 

“Would be nice. We barely made it through the winter. Out of all the years the temperatures could’ve dropped, why did it have to be this one? Central Hyrule was snowed in,” Impa shakes her head, recalling the time just a few months back. 

“Yeah, I think we hibernated through half the winter.” 

“Mhm, except for the time when you set off fireworks for everyone to see,” Impa scolded without any real malice in her tone. 

“We were celebrating New Year’s!” You defend yourself briskly. “You should’ve seen the tree in the square. I decorated it myself and some zombies ‘accidentally’ got wrapped up in the fairy lights.” 

Link snickers behind you, recalling the memory of that giant, half-decorated tree. Impa shakes her head, but the corners of her lips turn up into an amused smile. 

Zelda chuckles also, and adds, “aside from all the noise you two created, they were quite lovely. Is the tree still up?”

“Yeah,” you nod with a smile, “but I took the generator back home, so it’s not quite so colorful. Also the zombies chewed through the fairylights…”

“Oh,” Zelda replies, giggling at the mental image. The car falls quiet once more, until another thought pops into your head, and you feel like it’s something you ought to voice as well. 

“There’s also a small river off in the wooded area behind the base. We washed our clothes there and got a lot of drinking water,” you mention. “I think we should have a decent supply at the base still.”

“You better not be lying,” Impa jokes. “We have to treat all of our water and get the salt out of it. Extra water would be a lifesaver. The next time that it rains, you’ll see — every surface will be covered in rain barrels, containers, and all sorts of makeshift rain catchers.” 

You blink at Impa, processing that information and the mental image that accompanies it. You can’t say that that’s an unreasonable response, though — whatever helps survival. 

The drive continues on, and you allow Impa to focus on the road once more. It hasn’t changed very much, but as spring came around, sprouts began to make their way up through soil and pavement alike, peeking in through pre-existing cracks and pushing through to create new ones. It made the road rougher, but Impa already had to weave the car off and onto the road to avoid collision with the other stationary cars. In a way, it was rather heartening, seeing the greenery begin to take back the city streets. It added more color to the fading buildings, and gave them a peaceful look, as though the city was resting after tragedy. 

“Oh, right here!” You point out, gesturing through your window at the familiar building. Impa parks the car, off on the side of the road, and shuts off the engine. 

“That’s pretty high up,” she notes, her brows furrowing in thought. You had a lot of supplies there, and it would take some time and work to get them down to the car. 

“Hold on, we had a ramp here somewhere. We used it to haul up that one supply crate we stole from you,” you look around, attempting to locate the large piece of wood that the two of you stole off the back of a bookshelf, and used to load the crate onto the roof of the postal service van that was parked nearby, and then onto the roof of your base. 

You find it behind the house, securely stored, and still fairly sturdy. You pull Link aside, realization beginning to grow on you just how much stuff you’ve got holed up in the safehouse.

“Hey, do you think we should ask Zelda and Impa to stay down here while we pack things up?” You ask your companion. “We could shove all of our medical supplies back into the crate. It’s pretty safe, considering those things float down from hundreds of feet in the air and don’t damage anything in them.” 

Link nods, and as you go to talk to the other two, he begins to make his way up. 

“Hey,” you greet Impa and Zelda. “Can you stay down here and look out for zombies? Link and I are going to pack some things up.”

“Yeah, of course,” Impa nods, and Zelda smiles in turn. “Don’t tarry, though. We don’t have all day.”

“Thanks,” you smile, and follow after Link. 

You make your way up to the roof, and then through the open trapdoor. Link is already inside the base, the lamp on the kitchenette peninsula turned on, and casting light over the main room. It’s the same cozy glow as always. The same that had illuminated countless evenings and early mornings. You can hear Link sift through the cabinets in the bathroom, and you follow the sound, finding him pensive over the stores. 

“Hi,” you greet him, looking over his shoulder. He responds with a brief hum. 

Your gaze flickers back to the supply crate, sitting empty at the edge of the peninsula.

“We should line the edges with gauzes, cotton, boxes, stuff like that. And then the bottles and vials can go on the inside together,” you suggest. Link’s eyes glance to you, and then follow yours to the supply crate. He nods, and grabs a few things. 

The supply crate is heavy, but miraculously, the four of you manage to get it down and into the car with relatively few casualties. Next follows water, and then food, and finally, blankets, pillows, sheets, and kitchen utensils. Impa briefly debates with the rest of you whether to take plates and other things, but taking how bumpy the road is, it’s decided to wrap the more fragile stuff in blankets and pray to Hylia for the best. Link and you head up one final time to gather your personal belongings. You’re delighted to reunite with your baseball bat. You dig your and Link’s clothes out of the closet, and make quick work of sorting through them and stuffing them into your backpacks. 

You grab the small, plush cat that you’d found abandoned in a general store in the fall, and smile at its disgruntled face. The poor thing had been through so much, but you have no intention of leaving the little plush friend behind. You put it in the side pocket of your backpack, and make sure it’s secured properly, and wouldn’t fall out. You pat it on its little head, before your attention is drawn away by Link tapping you on the shoulder. 

You turn to him, a small smile on your face. He holds out your handgun to you, the same one that he’d given you at the beginning of winter, and helped you practice.

“Why thank you,” you accept it, feeling your smile grow. Even if you preferred your baseball bat, you still cherished the gift from him. You rise, standing in front of Link, your backpack at your feet.

“Anything else you need to grab?” You ask, looking around the safe house one last time. Link shakes his head, his gaze wandering around as well, before falling back on yours. 

You stand in front of him. His eyes are blue. Bright, bright blue, as always. With streaks of a lighter tint surrounding and angled to his pupils. Light from the lamp dances along his irises, giving them a warm halo along the rim. He’s beautiful. The two of you had been through a lot together, and you could not have wished for a better companion through it all. Those eyes separate from yours briefly, falling lower on your face. You glance at his lips. They part, as though to voice something, but he isn't given the chance. 

“[Name]! Link! Not to hurry you two, but we’ve still got to transport all of this back to Lurelin!” Impa’s voice sounds, followed by Zelda’s. 

“If you have more things, we can come back another day, but it is a long drive back, and it’s getting late!”

You offer Link a softened smile, but his gaze has already fallen away, eyes dullened, as though lost in his own thoughts. 

“C’mon,” you say, making your way to the trapdoor. He follows after you, and down to the car, where Impa and Zelda wait. Zelda notices the plush cat peeking out of your backpack pocket, and her face lights up. 

“Aww, that’s so cute!” She comments, reaching over to pet the plush. Impa observes from the driver’s seat door, but doesn’t comment. Nonetheless, you could swear that you see her expression soften. 

The four of you climb into the car, and Impa begins driving back southeast. The road is peaceful, and any zombies that are around mostly gather off in parking lots and plazas, which you avoid anyway. You lean your cheek against the palm of your hand, your eyes lazily scanning over the streets and buildings while she drives. You read the signs of storefronts as they pass, your eyes follow after birds when they fly off as the car wrooms by, and you enjoy the sight of bright greenery illuminated by sunlight. 

It’s Impa slowing down that draws your attention back to the road. 

“Impa, what is that?” you ask, perking up. Your eyes squint, attempting to make out the scene in the distance. Link and Zelda lean forward as well, looking through the front window from the backseat. 

The car comes to a stop. In front of you, not nearly far enough for comfort, stands a tall zombie, its eyes hollow, teeth bared. Its construction worker’s uniform had gone from bright orange to dirty and blotchy, washed out by sunlight, blood, and who knows what else. In its hands, it holds a rebar, a large chunk of concrete still attached to it, coating the pavement beneath it in dust and small chunks of rubble.

Chapter Text

Chapter 27

The car halts, its path obstructed by the tall, burly zombie some feet away. It lets out an angry roar, and uses its arms to bring the rebar, a large piece of concrete still attached at its end, up above its head in a feat of unnatural undead strength. However, balance is a different story, and its makeshift hammer is quickly brought back down to the ground by gravity after being flailed around. Dust and chunks of rubble chip off from the main piece, but the shake of the ground in the after effect can be felt even through the car. 

You hear a click, and a brief flash of light. Zelda had taken a picture. This isn’t a zombie you’ve encountered before. And worse still, it seems to have noticed you. 

“What do we do?” You ask, glancing over your shoulder at the rear window. The road is packed with abandoned cars. Impa could try turning the car around, but that wouldn’t happen in three simple actions. 

Link and Zelda are silent in the backseat, watching as the monstrosity adjusts its grip on the rebar. 

“Run it over?” You suggest, but Impa is quick to shake her head. 

“I wouldn’t risk it,” she says. “There’s no guarantee that’ll kill it, and there’s a supply truck behind it, too. The road’s blocked anyway.” 

“You can’t turn the car around,” Zelda voiced. “There’s not enough space.” 

The zombie roars once more, slamming its hammer down onto the ground, as though in challenge. This thing looks just about ready to come closer to the car, and something told you that one hit to the hood from that thing would be more than enough to have you stranded here.  

“I could try to distract it while you back out,” you tell Impa. 

Her brows furrow, and she whips her head around like you’d just said the most absurd thing, “no, absolutely not. Are you insane?! That’s suicide!” 

Link hums from the backseat, tapping you on the shoulder. He nods towards the zombie in front of the car, and reaches for the door handle. If you’re going, he’s coming with you. 

“I can help too,” Zelda suggests, beginning to reach for the door as well, but now it’s your turn to disagree. 

You grab her arm, shaking your head, “no. It’s too dangerous. You should stay with Impa.” 

She frowns, her gaze dropping, but retrieves her hand. You rub her arm briefly in reassurance, and then get out of the car. 

Your eyes meet Link’s, his axe already in his hands. You turn your attention back to the zombie, slipping your baseball bat into your hands. The two of you step in front of the car as Impa begins to slowly back up through the tight lanes. The zombie adjusts its grip on the rebar, and takes a heavy step forward. One of Link’s hands leaves his axe in favor of his handgun. He fires off a warning shot, which only agitates the undead more. Luckily, there’s no other zombies around. You steal a glance back at the car, and just then, the zombie raises the rebar once more. You whip your head back around, and just have the time to throw yourself to the side. The concrete hammer hits the pavement, sending pieces of rubble flying off in different directions. You transfer your weight over, using the opportunity to swing your bat. It connects with its shoulder, throwing the zombie off-balance. 

Link swings his axe, using the moment of disorientation to drive the cutting edge into the zombie’s back. The undead lets out a cry, and takes one of its hands off the rebar, making a swipe at Link. Luckily, he is able to dislodge his weapon, and jump back, the zombie’s rotting hands and decaying nails just missing him. It rises back onto its feet, gripping the rebar once more, and follows after Link. It raises up its makeshift hammer once more, the next smash at the ground directed at your companion. You aim your bat, and swing at its elbow so that it fumbles the attack. Link leaps out of the way, ending up back at your side as dust rises up into the air once more. 

You look around. Stationary cars surround you, and the only way out is back through the passage that Impa’s car had gone. There really wasn’t much space for you to go. At the same time, though, you didn’t want to end up as the target for this thing’s hammer. Your eyes glance between the undead and the cars that surround Link and you, before coming to a decision. 

“Link, up there,” you point to one of the cars, using the hood to boost yourself up onto the roof. Between decay and the rebar with a huge chunk of concrete still attached to the end of it, the zombie is severely slowed down. If you hope to buy Impa time without putting the two of you in the way of the hammer, you’re going to have to find something else for this thing to smash to pieces. 

You reach a hand out, helping Link up onto the roof after you. The zombie approaches the car you had just climbed on, but you hold your ground, waiting patiently. You give Link a push towards the pickup standing next to it, and he hops over as the undead begins to raise the hammer. You tarry only for another second, before following him, just as the hammer begins to lower. Link catches you, steadying you on the back of the truck while the ground shakes from the impact. There’s an ear-piercing CRUNCH! of metal as the roof of the car where you were just standing was caved in by the makeshift hammer, and the two of you are brought down to a kneel. The zombie turns back to you, enraged, and you scramble up onto the roof instead. 

You repeat the process a few more times – the undead lacks much of its brain, after all – until you hear a sharp, lengthy whistle. Impa. It must’ve been. Link hops off the car roof first, and you follow after him, right at his heel. You chance a glance back at the zombie, and your eyes widen. Sailing towards you is the rebar, spinning like a boomerang. 

And in the next moment, you’re pulled down to the ground. The fall is hard, though it’s cushioned a bit by the arms that wrapped around you, but you’re far more worried about the weapon that breezes over your head. You find Link next to you, his own eyes widened with fear, but you’re both alright. The rebar lands a couple of paces away from you, though the impact makes you flinch again. You only allow yourself a moment of rest. The zombie is still behind you, and you don’t have very much time before sunset. 

You pull Link up, giving him a brief ‘thank you,’ and keep running. You hop over the rebar, and keep going. Impa’s car, now turned around shows in the distance down the road. 

Only once the two of you are safely back in your seats do you and Link study your skinned knees and arms. 

You make it in the nick of time. As the sun is going down and the horizon turns a vibrant orange, the car rides in through the opened gates of Lurelin. Despite the loot that the four of you have collected, however, the reaction to your return is less than welcoming. A tall man stands just off the road, his long, white beard unkempt. He wears shorts and a simple, dirty shirt. His skin looks mildly sunburnt from spending a large portion of his day outside, and there’s an angry look in his eye. You hear Zelda mutter a curse under her breath from the backseat. 

“Oh no,” Impa sighs quietly, already dreading what the four of you are about to be subject to. 

The car comes to a stop, and Impa turns the engine off before exiting the vehicle. You glance to the back at your friend, but she’s looking away, so you follow Impa out of the car. Already, shame floods over you under the older man’s frustrated gaze, though he’s yet to say a word. You don’t even know exactly what any of you had done wrong, yet the look in his eye is enough. 

Zelda gets out of the car last, her eyes downturned. 

“Father, I-” she begins, but is promptly cut off. 

“Really, Zelda?” he interrupts her. “I thought we’ve talked about you joining supply runs. I thought you understood how dangerous it is.” 

“I do, but-” 

“Haven’t I made it clear that you’re not allowed out of these gates? Have you grown tired of living?” 

“No, Father-” 

“Then what, pray tell , were you doing out?” he questioned, his voice rising. “You know how dangerous it is. There are other things that you can do around the town if you’re so bored. I don’t understand why you’re raring out of the safety of the town so much!”

Zelda falls silent, her gaze on the sand-covered pavement beneath her feet. You, Impa, and Link stand awkwardly to the side. You feel like you ought to say something, to explain that Zelda just wanted to help, but you don’t want to accidentally make the situation worse. 

Zelda’s father reaches out for her camera, taking it out of her hands with ease. He clicks through the photos, his brows furrowing impossibly further, no doubt looking at the images of the zombie that she’d taken out of the car. 

“Seriously, Zelda? Playing ecologist? What’s next?” the man exclaims. “You could’ve been killed! Do you see this thing?”

He points the camera screen back at her, though Zelda only spares it an ashamed glance before her eyes are back on her shoes once more. Her father sighs, and shakes his head. His gaze falls onto you, Link, and Impa, and for a moment, you’re subjected to that same look of frustration and disappointment. Without another word, he turns and walks away, Zelda's camera still in his hand.

Chapter Text

It rained in Lurelin. The water rose up higher, no longer the brilliant blue that it once was. Instead, now it had become a pleasant grey, reflecting the cloud-covered skies above it. No thunder sounded in the distance, at least not yet, and as much as you would prefer to spend the day inside, duty called, and this time it was to take to the seas and get some fish. 

You really don’t know why you and Link were summoned specifically. Lurelin had plenty of more qualified fishermen to do the job, but you two decided not to argue. Surely it couldn’t be so bad? What was really required of you, to harpoon a few porgies? 

And that’s how you find yourself on the docks, a small boat being handed off to you and your companion. It has a distinct whale design, with its stern carved in the shape of a tail. On either side of the bow, in faded white paint, it bears slick lines, reminiscent of eyes. Its underbelly has grown lighter in color, washed out by the water, and the salt within it. 

“Here,” Zelda hands you an oar, a small, reassuring smile on her face. “I’m sure you’ll do just fine. Don’t drift off too far into the sea.” 

The wood is rough in your hands, or perhaps your hands had merely grown calloused from the supply runs and limited personal hygiene. At the very least, the sun isn’t beating down on you, but seeing the way that even such light rain had riled up the waters, you’d be more alright with battling heatstroke than risking your boat being overturned, and yourself pulled under. 

The grey waves beat at the docks, the occasionally taller one getting sliced against the floorboards. Link climbs into the boat first, and it rocks slightly due to the sudden shift in weight. 

“How many do we need?” You ask Zelda, tearing your eyes away from the rather unstable-looking contraption you’re about to place yourself and your companion into. 

“Just a few,” Zelda says, lifting her hand to her chin. “The other fishermen aren’t having much luck due to the rough seas. If we can’t get anything today, we’ll tap into our rations, but it’d be nice if we caught even one fresh fish.” 

You look back at the sea, and then at Zelda. Much as you love your friend, you can’t help but feel like she’s tossing you to the wolves here. Or, rather, the waves. 

Zelda’s expression softens, noticing your skeptical gaze, and adds on, “there’s life jackets in the boat.” 

You sigh, and in spite of your anxiety, step into the boat after Link. He welcomes you with a small smile, and the promised life jackets. He slips one onto himself, and you do the same. It’s a snug fit, but much better than going in without anything. From the inside of the boat, nothing looks badly tattered. Admittedly, things could’ve been worse. 

You wave Zelda goodbye, and turn towards the sea. Being further away from shore helps you not struggle so much against the waves, but there are a few moments where Link and you have to fight the waves in order to now have your boat slept off back onto the beach. 

The open sea is somewhat calmer. Although rain continues to beat down on the two of you and the water, it’s no longer tossing you this way and that. You two continue to row, passing through the narrow waterway along Korne Beach, and come out into the open sea. You look down into the grey waters, attempting to make out any hint of color that would suggest the presence of fish. 

“You see anything?” You yell over the wind. “We should throw the anchor out, there’s sea stacks further out!” 

Your companion places his oar down, making it stand up against the side of the boat. He moves to grab the small anchor, stashed at the bottom of the boat, ready to throw it out so you can remain stationary. You whip your head around, attempting to locate the rocks that you know you’ve seen around in better weather. And speak of the devil! As the waves lower, you notice one, heading straight for the boat. 

“Look out!” You exclaim, grabbing his attention. You grab your oar, and use it to push back against the rocks, Link’s joining it to combine strength a moment later. The boat scrapes by, but otherwise, remains intact. 

“Like that…” you point out dryly, looking back at the rock stack. 

Link lowers his oar, and with a weary sigh after that experience, goes to grab the anchor. The other rock stacks, from your memory, were further out to sea, so you’re likely safe for now. You help Link with the anchor, tossing it overboard. It sinks quickly, and your boat remains still, even as the waves break against its sides, occasionally spraying the two of you, as though you weren’t wet enough from the rain. 

You look over the side, shielding your eyes from the rain, and attempt to spot anything below the surface. The water is dim, and the rain that breaks the surface constantly is no help. Link comes over to you, a harpoon in each hand. He taps your shoulder, and offers one out, before taking a seat on the bench next to you. You take the harpoon into your hands, studying it for a moment, before your attention returns back to the water. Link gazes over the edge of the opposite side of the boat, also at the ready, and looking for fish. Occasionally, a particularly big wave crashes against your boat, sending water in your face. You turn away, and wipe the liquid off your face quickly, but sometimes, you mistake saltwater for rain, and have to grab a rag to rub the stinging out of your eyes. Though, that too is beginning to grow soaked. 

You sit there for what feels like forever. You’re drenched. You’re cold. Not a single piece of you is dry. 

At least Link is there with you, but he’s in much the same condition as you. His hair has lost its shape, and turned darker with weight, sticking to his face and neck. You lean against his side, staring at the shore with longing, like a lover whose warmth you cannot wait to return to. Alas, you are stuck here, until you have something to show for coming all the way out here, and also getting your boat broken to splinters by some rocks sticking out of the water. 

“You ever go fishing, before the apocalypse?” You ask, turning your gaze to Link. 

He tears his eyes off the water, meeting yours. He doesn’t respond for a few seconds, perhaps in recollection, and then nods. Link doesn’t elaborate, and neither do you. It’s nice to sit with him like this, even when you’re not talking, and you’re in a rocking boat amidst rain. 

You gaze out at the horizon, looking around. Your eyes force you to blink often, attempting to avoid the constant downpour above you, but without luck. In the distance, you spot an island, tall on the horizon past the curl of Cape Cresia. 

“Look, there’s Eventide Island,” you point out to Link. He looks in the direction you point, eyes following your own. 

“I heard that there’s a curse laid upon it,” you mention, your lips curling in a smile. You didn’t know how true the fact was yourself, but you do remember briefly learning about it at some point in elementary school. Link’s eyes return to yours, amusement dancing in their vast blue. Now that’s an ocean you’d rather be in. 

All of a sudden, Link sneezes. 

“You alright?” You ask, sitting upright again. Ugh, you really shouldn’t be out here. Clearly, no fish wanted to be caught today, and the two of you, Zelda, and Impa just brought back a whole bunch of rations from your previous base. What was one day of poor fishing? The last thing you needed was for you and Link to catch a cold. 

Link waves your concern off, but you’re alright with taking the excuse to get back onto solid ground. The rain is picking up. 

“C’mon, let’s get back to shore,” you get up, grabbing hold of the anchor chain. “Maybe someone else caught something.”

Link gets up, and moves over to you, helping you pull the slippery chain, and the heavy anchor out from the bottom of the sea. Not without struggle, you haul it up and into your boat, only getting one minor scare of your boat nearly capsizing. It was time to go home. 

On the way back, the waves are more cooperative, pushing you back to the beach. You continue to row, just to make the process faster, and combat the pullback of the sea. You remember where the sea stack had been, at least relatively, and Link and you avoid the area entirely, deciding that you’d much rather trail closer to Rimba Beach. Through the rain, you begin to see the docks from which your boat was borrowed, the beach houses in the distance. Soon, you’ll be out of the water, off this boat, and back on solid ground. You’ll be able to head back home, to dry off, change into warm clothes. 

You can practically taste tonight’s dinner, however canned it may be, when misfortune strikes anew. A particularly large wave rams into your boat, sending you and Link off to the side, and your boat rocking. You’re not given time to recover, to redistribute the weight once more, as another wave finishes the job, hidden right behind the first. The next thing you know is water. Cold, dark, murky. Stinging. 

You resurface with a gasp, your lifejacket forcing you back up. Your eyes burn with the saltwater that has gotten into them. Your hands reach out forward instinctively, feeling blind for anything to grab onto. Lucky for you, they quickly meet the wooden underbelly of your overturned boat, and you claw into it, holding yourself above the waves that roll around you, crashing into your back. 

“[Name]!” You hear your companion’s voice call out. 

You’ve mostly regained your breath now, able to hold your eyes open for a few milliseconds. You turn towards the source of the voice, noticing Link in the water, a few feet away from you. 

“Link!” You reach a hand out towards him, hoping that he heard you over the wind and the waves. He does, though shaking his head to get rid of the water, and pushes himself closer to your voice. He grabs hold of your arm, and you’re able to pull him back to your capsized boat, placing his hand onto the wood so that he can orient himself. 

You place yourself between Link and the oncoming waves, allowing him to recover. Your eyes burn, even as you turn away from the water that rocks the lifeline that is your boat. Your other hand is on Link’s back, a fistful of his shirt clenched firmly in your hand as you make sure that he remains close to the boat. 

“Are you alive?” You ask, only half-joking. 

He nods, muttering a brief assurance under his breath. 

You sit snuggled up to Link by the fire in the city center, shielded from the rain by a canopy. You’re more or less dry, except for your hair, and you’ve changed into a fresh pair of clothes. A blanket rests heavy on your shoulders, but at least you’re warm. No one had luck with fishing, as it turned out, but you’re okay with canned food for an extra day a week. You’ve had enough of seafaring for a good, long while. 

“How are you feeling?” You ask idly, looking at your companion. 

The corner of Link’s lips curls up into a smile, and he shakes his head, placing his face into his hand. You snicker. It seems like both of you share the same feelings about that experience. 

You yawn, returning your gaze back to the fire. Your watch begins to beep in warning, signaling the approach of 8:30, and with it, the end of sunset. You cover it with a hand, not wanting to disturb the sweet moment with the reminder of the horrors lurking outside the city gates during the night, though it’s not much good – Link’s watch is beeping, too. 

The victorious roars of the Volatiles sound moments later, and one by one, ultraviolet lights come on along the fence, and around the main buildings of town. Your attention is drawn back to Link with a tap on your shoulder. Link gets up, taking note of your tired expression. He offers his hand out to you, his other keeping the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He nods towards the housing area, a silent question in his eyes. 

You smile, and take his hand, allowing its warmth to envelop yours as he pulls you up, and leads you home.

Chapter Text

Chapter 29

It was another regular morning. You have begun to really get used to living in Lurelin. The waves and gulls woke you up. You had ditched any form of jackets a while ago. The summer sun beat down on everything, but there was no AC. Whatever electricity was still being transmitted into town went directly to the ultraviolet lights that hung around the tall barbed wire fence, and the main buildings of the community. 

The blankets in your room gathered sand on the floor. At the very least, your room got some fresh air and ventilation. Both of the windows were properly boarded up, but one was broken, even if you couldn’t immediately tell behind the boards. 

You wake up to another cloudy day, the sky grey and dim, but at least without rain, for now. You’ve had enough of rain since your last incident on the waters. You stretch a little, but find no weight on you. You glance over your shoulder, and spot Link, already awake and reading an old, weathered magazine – anything to entertain himself. 

“Good morning,” you greet him with a yawn, propping yourself up onto your elbow after rolling over to properly face him. “You’re up early.”

Link turns his attention away from the magazine, and gives you a smile in greeting. You look down at your watch, noting the time. 7:14 . You still had some time before breakfast officially started, and you weren’t on duty today, either. You move over closer to Link, resting your cheek against his arm, drowse still hanging over you after just waking up. You look down at the magazine he holds in his hands – just a standard gossip column from…

“How long ago is this?” you ask, taking note of the information on the page. A fashion designer, Cece, was teasing her new spring collection. 

Link shrugs, and turns the magazine over back to the cover page, scanning it and the masthead. However, he doesn’t find anything. Multiple corners from the pages are ripped or damaged, so it’s not much of a surprise. It had probably released sometime in the fall or winter of one year or another. The two of you return back to reading. 

It was a little surreal, reading what was ‘HOT NEWS’ prior to everything falling apart. Months prior to the outbreak, all anyone was worried about was school, work, what new movies were due to come out that year, will their favorite celebrity couple break up, what will the elections bring this year? They had no clue. Hyrule was due to collapse in a fiery mass of terror and destruction. Death would approach each of their doorsteps, and leave nothing behind. 

Link flips the page. The next section wonders about an alleged rendezvous of two famous actors. Were they together? What did this mean for the upcoming season of reality tv? The magazine theorized about how long they would last. Such issues seem so small to you now. You doubt that anyone cares about romantic relationships with everything else going on in the nation – maybe even the world – now. But then again… that makes you a bit of a hypocrite. 

Your eyes travel back up to Link – he’s looking down at the page. There’s a warmth in your chest when he’s around, and now that you’re thinking about it, you can feel a portion of that warmth gravitate to your cheeks. Somehow, despite everything, he still remains effortlessly pretty in your eyes. Even with the messy hair, even with the old, dirty clothes that were beginning to develop holes, even with the small pieces of sediment from the ocean sticking to his skin. He is your companion throughout it all, and he is so very dear to you. You like being close to him like this. It’s comfortable, and you actually feel like you’re okay with being vulnerable around him. Maybe if it were him… but how do you even begin to ask?

Later in the morning, Link and you crawl out of bed, and greet the blazing beach sun on your way to breakfast. You go to the main plaza where the food was typically served, and wait for your portion of breakfast. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s warm, and getting even a bit of fresh food on your plate felt great in comparison to just being handed a half full can of slimy something or other. Link and you take your plates and go to sit down in a relatively shaded spot, so you don’t have to feel like you were being burned alive by the sun. 

Your plates consist of some canned greens, beans, a small piece of poultry, and half a slice of bread – a miracle! Someone had not only managed to shoot down a seagull, but you now had grains on your plate, too? Now this is the life. Link and you steal from each other’s plates as you eat, picking and choosing what you like and don’t like. That is, until familiar voices draw your attention away from your food. You look over, spotting Impa not too far away, with Zelda at her heel, her camera back around her neck, and a book in her hands. 

“No, Zelda,” Impa rolls her eyes, arguing with the blonde. “I already told you – I’m not going. It’s too far away from us anyway. And you’re definitely not coming along. Don’t you remember last time?” 

Zelda frowns, looking apologetic, “I know, Impa, but please. This is important to me. This could… it could change so much.” 

Impa halts in her step, causing Zelda to nearly bump into her. She takes a step back as the other girl turns towards her with a sigh. 

“Fine,” Impa agrees, her voice softer now. “I’ll think about it.” 

Zelda gives her a small smile, hands her something, and walks away with a nod. Impa’s shoulders slump as she watches her go, quickly pocketing whatever was given to her, and pinches the bridge of her nose. She turns back around, and notices Link and you. 

“You two,” she says, coming closer. “Are you busy today?”

You look at Link, both of you freezing. You didn’t have anything assigned for today, to your knowledge. Both of you shake your heads, returning your attention back to Impa. 

“Great, meet me by the car once you’re done,” she requests before you can come up with any excuses. 

You sit in your usual place in the passenger seat as Impa drives you wherever you’re going on the next supply run. Link sits in the back, looking out the window. It’s quiet in the car, which isn’t a bad thing, but it seems like it’s going to be a long drive. 

“So,” you break the silence. “We saw you and Zelda talking about something.” 

Impa doesn’t respond immediately, keeping her eyes on the road ahead, “Yeah.”

Okay, dry. But maybe it’s private? 

The car falls silent again, and you slowly give up on getting anything more out of Impa, turning your eyes back to the window. Falsely so. 

“She thinks she knows where the Volatiles are coming from,” Impa speaks up again, getting both you and Link to perk up. 

“Really?” your head whips back around to look at the girl. 

“Yeah. She’s theorizing that since we don’t find them in buildings during the day, they go somewhere more specific. A set location.”

Impa falls silent once more, but again, it doesn’t last long.

“She thinks it’s the prison in Central Hyrule.”

Your eyes widen. The prison in Central Hyrule? The high-security one in the capital? 

“She wants to blow it up.”

“WHAT?” you can’t hold back your reaction, having expected anything but that. Zelda wants to blow up an entire building? The zombie apocalypse really does something to people – unbelievable. You look behind you to gauge Link’s reaction, and find him in much the same state as you – mouth agape, eyes widened, and leaning forward to make sure he’s hearing right. 

“Like, for real? She wants to blow up the whole prison ?” you double-check.

“Well, she wants us to make sure that her theory is right first. But if that’s truly where the Volatiles go every morning, then yes,” Impa confirms, somehow remaining level-headed about all this. 

“How would you even blow it up? We don’t have explosives… Do we?”

“No, we don’t. But Zelda thinks that someone else might.” 

“Who?”

Impa pauses again, and sighs, “have you heard of the Yiga Clan?” 

The Yiga… Clan? You look at Link, and the two of you share a clueless expression. 

“No? What is it?” you decide to ask.

“A group of people established not too long after everything fell to ruin. It was rumored that they resided by the Gerudo Highlands back when there were more survivors around. I don’t know where they are now, though. They’re not good people. Thieves, liars, traitors, and manipulators. They believe humanity is a lost cause, and they're known for their violence. If anyone would have explosives and be willing to trade them, it’d be them. But it would come for a price, and I don’t want to know what it is. In any case, Rhoam would never agree to even consider trading with them.” 

The car falls silent once more, each one of you in your own thoughts. You and Link had never heard of the Yiga Clan before, and probably for the better. But the possibility that the Volatiles resided in the old prison in Central Hyrule was both interesting and unnerving. It was a max-security prison, and it was unlikely that the people there would be evacuated. If the virus reached it… well, it probably spread like wildfire. And if the zombies couldn’t leave, and remained trapped with a lack of sunlight, perhaps that’s what mutated them? Maybe you were reaching, but that could explain their aversion to UV light. 

It did turn out to be a long drive. By the end of it, the trunk of the car was filled with cans of gasoline, and some extras were riding with Link in the back. Overall, a very successful run, but that also meant that Impa had to drive extra safe, lest something happen and the entire car goes up in flames and explodes. 

She parks the car on a hill off the main road. The area around you was rural, with vast stretches of tall grass, few trees… and a large building in the valley, surrounded by a tall, stone wall. 

“Is this the place?” you ask Impa, watching her dig binoculars out of the door pocket. 

She lifts them up to her face, looking down at the building below. She nods, and hands the binoculars off to you. You take them, and hold them up to your eyes, scanning the building. Nature has worn away at the walls, but the general lack of windows prevents you from being able to see much of anything inside. You move the binoculars, focusing in on a park of the outer wall that had collapsed, rubble laying about the opening, and providing a clear way in or out. 

“There’s an opening in the wall there,” you point out, lowering the binoculars, and handing them to Link so he can look as well. He accepts them curiously, and leans forward so that he could see through the opening between you and Impa. He lets out a thoughtful hum, looking around himself. 

Once Link is done looking as well, Impa twists her body, and opens the lid of the center console. After a bit of rummaging, she digs out a small camera out of the storage. 

“What’s that for?” you ask, watching her fiddle with it. 

“Since we can’t see much from here, and we’re most certain not waiting until nightfall, Zelda wanted us to install this somewhere so she can see if any volatiles come out after dusk,” Impa explains, and opens the car door. You and Link follow suit, glancing around for any Walkers, but there are none. The area’s deserted. 

Impa comes up to a tree that’s facing the prison, and begins to set up the camera so that it has a clear view of the collapsed portion of the wall. 

“That should do it,” she muttered, taking a step back. Impa looked over her shoulder to make sure the camera was still facing in the right direction, and nodded. Hopefully this held up for long enough that Zelda could get whatever footage she needed. 

As the sun began to set, the car drove through the gates of Lurelin City, and was parked off to the side by your and Link’s other one. 

“Great work today,” Impa gives the two of you a smile as you carry off the gasoline cans into the storage garage. You return the smile, dusting off your hands when the final few are set down. You stretch your arms out after the heavy lifting, and Link and you part ways with Impa, who excuses herself to go speak with Zelda. Link and you on the other hand, decide to go see if you could scavenge some leftovers from today’s dinner. 

The UV lights turn on around town as the two of you walk, the salty sea breeze brushing past you. 

“Do you really think that’s where the Volatiles hide?” you ask Link quietly. 

He doesn’t offer a response immediately, considering the possibility himself. Then, he shakes his head and shrugs. Even if Zelda is right, then what? Does she really want to blow up the entire prison? Make deals with the Yiga Clan? Would this lead to anything good at all? 

“Hey, you two!”

Your thoughts are interrupted by a familiar voice, and you turn to see Purah standing on the doorstep of her lab. There’s her usual smile on her face, and perhaps it’s merely the light, but there is a hint of worry in her eyes. Link and you halt in your steps, and she quickly trots over to the two of you. 

“You were out today, right?” she inquires, speaking softly as though in an attempt to be secretive. 

Link and you nod in confirmation. Did Purah need something?

“Have you… seen Robbie, perchance? Or any of our other people? Did Impa say anything like that?” Purah continued, glancing between the two of you, searching for a hint of something – anything. 

Link and you exchange a glance, and then shake your heads. Purah’s face begins to fall, but she quickly plasters a smile back onto her face.

“Ah, no biggie!” she exclaims, waving it off as though it was completely alright and nothing to worry over. Still, it was rather obvious that she is trying to convince herself more so than you and Link. “Probably just caught up in research! The gathering and preservation of samples takes time. Not to mention documentation…” 

Your eyes flit to Link, exchanging an awkward look. You can’t help but feel bad. It’s clear that Purah is worried over her friend, and though you didn’t know either of them personally prior to the outbreak, you feel like you should say something to reassure her that Robbie is still alive. 

Yet, before you can, Purah sends you on your way to dinner.

“You two go on ahead,” she smiles, pushing Link and you forward. “I’m sure you’re hungry, you should go get something to eat. Everyone appreciates what you do for the community.” 

And so, you and Link continue on down the moonlit streets towards the town square, and then back home to rest after you’ve filled your stomachs. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 30

Another sunny, windy day. You wake up to the familiar sight of unruly, blonde hair, and a warmth curled up against your side. Link is still fast asleep, drooling a little onto the pillow. He has a peaceful expression on his face, completely unbothered by the outside world beyond those messy bangs. You roll over, and debate draping an arm over Link, but as you lift your arm up, you notice your watch. 7:58. Darn. You sigh, realizing that the two of you had already overslept. 

So, instead of snuggling up to your companion, your hand lands on his shoulder, shaking him in an attempt to wake him up. 

“Link. Hey, wake up,” you say, trying to rouse him. 

He groans, and begins to roll over, muttering something about ‘five more minutes’. And how you relate... but alas. 

Finally, you manage to rouse Link out of slumber. The two of you make your way outside, wondering what will be given for breakfast today.

Wind rushes past you as you walk down the sandswept streets, carrying with it the salty seabreeze. It feels like another fairly regular day. Maybe Impa will call you up for another supply run, maybe you’ll be in charge of counting the food stocks, or maybe you’d visit the hospital to see if Mipha needed any assistance.

You get in line to get your breakfast, which just turns out to be fish soup. It’s primarily broth and very little of much else, but still, variety in your breakfast is highly appreciated. 

Link waits patiently off to the side while you get your fill, a soft hint of a smile on his face. You gotta say, Lurelin has provided the two of you a sense of security within the tall, barbed wire fence. The bowl warms your hands as Link and you move away from the gathering area, and go on in search of an area to eat nearby. 

The two of you settle in the grass off to the side of a street, plopping down and beginning to shovel the fish soup into your mouths. For all the broth and not much fish that it is, it does taste good. Link hums next to you in enjoyment, scooping up another spoonful. 

“What do you think we’re going to be assigned to today?” You ask, finding time between spoonfuls. 

Link shrugs. Whatever it is, Zelda’s made sure that for the most part, the two of you would be working together, or at least close by, so he wasn’t very concerned about it. 

You continue to eat your soup, when you notice a crowd beginning to gather around the area where you’d just gotten your breakfast. You pay it no mind — that is the typically communal area, after all — but it doesn’t stop there. Someone calls something out loudly, but you’re too far away to hear it. 

You nudge Link with your elbow, painstakingly pulling his attention away from food, and nod towards the crowd. 

“What’s up with that?” You muse curiously. Link sits up straighter, attempting to catch a glimpse of whatever the people were gathering around, but it’s too far away. 

You set your empty bowl aside, deciding that nothing’s going to happen to it in the grass while you’re away, and get up, dusting off your shorts. Link follows after you, curiosity getting the better of him as well. 

Perhaps this was just a group here for breakfast, but why are they not a line like usual? Did something happen? Did someone pass out? No, then people would be dispersing, and Mipha would be called. It had to be something else. Did they run out of soup? That would be unusual. Typically, more than enough is made for everyone. And even if it were the case, then more food would be fetched — simple.

Link and you approach the mob, attempting to listen into the snippets of conversation. This definitely wasn’t about breakfast. There’s a lot of chatter, and it sounds vehement. 

“What’s going on?” You ask Link, but he’s as clueless as you. 

“We’ll take any and all volunteers! Any information that was given to anyone!” A familiar voice rings out over the crowd. 

“I don’t understand why we have to go searching for him,” someone next to you mutters. 

“I know, right? Risk our necks going into the center of the outbreak for one guy?” Another person whispered back. 

Link takes your hand and begins to push through the crowd. You whisper an occasional ‘excuse us’ as you snake around, trying to figure out what all of this is about. 

“One group will travel to Akkala, while another remains here and continues on with supply runs!” The voice continued. 

Finally, you push to the front, where you see Impa standing on a few boxes, and looking out over the mass of individuals. Purah stands next to her, eyes darting between her younger sister and the group that crowded around them. When you come forward, her gaze focuses on you. 

“Hey, you two,” she gives you and Link a small smile. 

“Hey, Purah,” you come closer to her side, whispering. “Is this about Robbie?” 

She nods, her smile is faltering slightly, “yes. Impa’s launching an expedition to Akkala. She’s trying to gather volunteers and organize another group to continue doing her work here.”

You look over at Impa, who is still talking to the crowd, and feel a tugging on your arm. Link pulls you aside, closer to the crowd. You raise your brow, curious as to what he wanted. He nods towards Impa, attempting to subtly gesture towards her. Your brows rise higher, glancing at her, and then back at Link. Concern and insistence swirls in his eyes. 

“What, you want to volunteer?” You ask your companion. He nods, and you have to clarify. 

“To do runs here, or..?” 

Link shakes his head, and with a small sigh, you ask, “you want to rescue Robbie?” 

You appreciate Link’s selflessness, but not when he ropes you into it. Nonetheless, you can’t deny that you don’t particularly want to sit here in Lurelin and pretend like there’s nothing that could be done. You recall the evening when Purah pulled Link and you aside to ask if you or Impa had heard anything about Robbie or the group that went to Akkala. 

You sigh, and nod, “yeah. Alright.” 

You take Link’s hand again, pulling him back towards Impa. You give him one more look, just to make sure that this is truly what he wants. 

Link nods, and you wait for a quiet moment before getting Impa’s attention. 

“Impa?” You ask.

She looks down at you, her eyes briefly flickering to Link before they return back to you, “yes?” 

“We want to join you on the trip to Akkala.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 31

The garage door rolls up with a bit of force. Light floods in, rays shining in on the room otherwise coated in darkness. Metal gleams deeper in the room still partially coated in shadow. Impa steps in first, sparing a glance at Link and you over her shoulder. 

“What is this place?” You ask, following after her, only to halt in your step. Weapons cover the walls — shotguns, AKs, Ms, rifles, knives, machetes, handguns, hatchets. There were even a few bows and quivers of arrows hanging on the side of the tall shelves. 

“You have a whole arsenal here!” You look around, taking in all of the different equipment. You had been under the impression that all the weapons that Lurelin had was what everyone already had on hand — the harpoons, the guns of the guards on outposts, the equipment in the hospital, and whatever the runners had. After all, you never had to turn in your own weapons, so you sort of just assumed that everyone had their own equipment. 

You come up to one of the shelves, your fingers tentatively brushing against the leather-wrapped handle of a machete. Link looks around the storage garage as well, his eyes drawn to a sleek, black bow that hangs on one of the side walls. Impa takes a rifle off the wall, looking it over, and testing the handguard. Then, she swings it over her shoulder, attached by a strap. 

“We’re going to need the best we can get,” Impa said, picking up a police baton. “We don’t know what to expect, but we need to be prepared for anything.” 

She picks up another baton, and hands it to you. You take it, weighing it in your hand. It’s not much heavier than your baseball bat, but the baton is also meant to be held in only one hand. 

“This should be better than your bat,” Impa comments, moving on to a different section of the room. 

She reaches up towards a sniper rifle hung high on the wall, and takes it down. She aims it out of the garage door, away from you and Link. Her hand’s off the trigger, though — she’s just testing the sight. She lowers it, and swings it over her other shoulder. 

“Do you know who else is coming with us?” You ask, looking around the garage walls at the various guns and rifles. None of them look particularly new, they were likely scrapped from sports stores, or taken for public use from an existing owner. Or, alternatively, stolen off another runner or a corpse back when there were more people around. You wouldn’t say that they were in bad condition, either. 

“Just a few more people,” Impa answered. “Maybe two or three others. We have a decently-sized group already, and we want some runners to stay here to continue bringing in supplies.”

Since Impa’s car could fit more people (despite being less secure), it was chosen as the method of transportation. A few weapons were hauled into the backseat and open trunk. Next, you visited the food storage. 

Impa and Link carry in a large storage bin, and set it down on the ground. 

“We’ll need enough food and water for two weeks, plus taking into account anyone that we find from Robbie’s expedition,” she says, scanning the tall shelves of stock, filled to the brim with cans of this and that, as well as dried provisions. 

Her eyes land on a large pack of plastic water bottles, neatly stuffed under a shelf. She points at it, and requests, “[Name], could you and Link distribute those through the inside of the car?” 

You follow her gaze to the pack of water, and nod, grabbing the side, and drag it out. Link steps forward, and grabs the other end, helping you carry the heavy pack out the door. You move it down the street, and to the car, where you rip it open, and begin to fill up the various compartments. You climb into the passenger seat, placing two bottles into the cup holders. 

“Hello.”

You startle a little, not having expected anyone to come over. Your head whips around, only to find Zelda giving you a wave. 

She chuckles, and quickly apologizes, “sorry, I just wanted to see how things are going.” 

“Everything’s fine,” you answer, returning her smile. “Just packing rations.” 

Zelda nods, but her attention diverts to Link, who comes up to hand you more bottles to place into the center console. 

“Hi, Link,” she smiles, and steps aside to let him by. 

The corners of Link’s lips curl up ever so subtly, his expression softening in greeting. He hands you the bottles, but otherwise, doesn’t linger. 

“I wish I could come with you,” Zelda confesses quietly, turning back to you. Your smile falls a little, remembering the scolding she got the last time she joined you, Link, and Impa on a supply run. 

“Your father’s gonna slaughter all of us if he finds out you went with us to Akkala,” you point out to your friend. And you weren’t joking, either. Akkala was already known as the center of the outbreak, and was deemed highly dangerous. If the zombies — or whatever else lived there — didn’t get the first, Mr. Rhoam sure would when they got back. Zelda wouldn’t be allowed five feet away from him. Ever. 

“I know, I know,” Zelda sighs, her brow furrowing in frustration aimed at her father. 

Your eyes linger on her expression for a moment, before you turn away, placing the bottles of water that Link gave you into the center console. Of course, she was aware that her father cared about her a lot, but Zelda also couldn’t help but feel completely helpless here, sitting around while the people she knew went out and risked their lives. 

“Hey, Link,” you look into the backseat, trying to get the boy’s attention. “Can you give me two more?” 

Link looks up from what remains of the pack of water, and grabs another two. A playful gleam appears in his eyes, and he adjusts his hold on one of the bottles. Your brows furrow as you watch him, and quickly realize — he’s going to try to toss them to you. 

“Do not throw them!” You exclaim, not trusting either one of you with that, let alone in Impa’s car. 

He chuckles, a sound that’s music to your ears, and gets up. He holds the plastic bottles out to you, one in each hand. Your fingertips brush as you take them, and you find yourself unable to stop the way the corners of your lips curl. You place the two extra bottles of water into the compartment, and look up. Zelda is looking at you with a pensive expression, her brow raised.

“What?” You ask. 

Zelda smiles, glancing at Link, who’s kneeling on the ground and digging the last of the bottles out of their plastic confines. Her eyes return to you, a knowing look on her face. You retort with a look of your own that says shut up. 

Link and you return to Impa, who’s already packed up the bin full of food for the trip. Link helps her lug it all the way back to the car, where it stands to the side of the gates at the ready. The food is secured in the open back of the truck. Impa dusts off her hands, and Link hops out to join you on the ground. 

“Alright, that should be all,” she concludes. “I’ll get the others ready, and we’ll set out tomorrow. Try to get some sleep.” 

You give her a small wave, “goodnight, Impa.” 

She nods, Link’s hand finds yours, and he pulls you down the street towards the town plaza. Link and you stop for dinner, and head down to the beach. The tide is low as you sit on the docks, legs dangling over the edge. You finish your food, and set it aside, looking up at the grey-blue skies above. Orange and red streaks reach out in long beams, slowly overpowering whatever remained of the dull blue, and coloring the outline of clouds yellow. 

You feel Link’s fingertips brush yours. You glance at him, but he’s also looking up at the sky, his empty plate in his lap. His hand creeps over yours, and finally grows still again. His thumb rubs your knuckles, and you feel a subtle heat settle in your cheeks. Usually, Link would hold your hand to lead you somewhere, or rub them together to warm your hands or his own. But what was the reason now? You’re just sitting here, and both of your and Link’s hands alike are warm. 

Your look down at your hands, his over your own — calloused, scarred, yet nonetheless gentle. The next time you look up, his eyes are already on you — cerulean blue, rimmed with the orange light of the sunset, a perfect contrast, making both shine all the brighter. 

He smiles, and returns his gaze back to the sea. Disappointment rises in your chest. It’s only now that you notice that you’d leaned closer to him. You straighten yourself out, and push the feeling down, attempting to focus on the gentle waves below you instead. You don’t know what you had expected. 

The two of you sit in silence for a while. Progressively, the sky darkens, and so do your thoughts. Link’s thumb still brushes over your knuckles, yet your mind drifts to tomorrow instead. You’ll leave, you’ll have to spend the nights Hylia knows where. Akkala is literally on the other side of Hyrule. Impa was packing for two weeks. Nearly half a month. You were heading into the heart of the outbreak. What is wrong with you? And none of you even know what to expect. Would the place be barren and deserted? Would it be overflowing with undead? Were there other mutations of infected there? Was Robbie even alive? Would you scour the entire region until you turned over every pebble in the area? What would you tell Purah? 

You shake your head, pulling your hand from under Link’s. 

“We should go home,” you say, leaving no room for argument. 

Link looks at you, surprised and a little worried. Yet, he doesn’t reply. He merely gets up, offering his hand to help you up. Reluctantly, you take it. You don’t want to push away your best friend on your last day in the safety of Lurelin. You try to banish the anxiety that runs rampant in your mind as the two of you walk back to the living quarters, but the roars of volatiles that echo through the night make you jump, even if your watch did warn you. 

Finally, you make it back to the hotel. Link holds the door open for you as you enter your room. You wander through the darkness, your hand extended as you feel for the lamp on the nightstand. Your hand finds the cool, metallic surface of the base, and you flip the switch on. The lightbulb flickers a little, washing the room in pale yellow light. 

Link closes the door behind the two of you, and flops down on the bed like a sack of potatoes. He looks up at you, a smile on his face, and extends a hand out in invitation. You chuckle and shake your head, but it’s not an invitation you’ll decline. You climb into bed, and settle down beside him. Your cheek rests against his shoulder, your arm draped over him. He’s warm, and his arm comes to rest comfortably around your waist. The two of you lie silently for a few moments, just enjoying the peaceful downtime. And it’s not nearly long enough before your thoughts begin to drift back to Akkala. The two of you are leaving tomorrow, and you don’t know what awaits you there. You don’t know how dangerous it is, or what you’re going to find. You don’t even know if you’ll make it back in one piece, if at all. 

Your eyes float over to Link’s face. He’s resting back against the pillow, his expression content and his eyes closed. Maybe, just maybe… if you had to do it, it’d best be now.

You push yourself up onto an elbow, and his eyes flutter open to look at you, curious why you’re getting up all of a sudden.

“Link, what are we?” the words fall from your lips before you can change your mind.

Chapter Text

Chapter 32

Link blinks up at you, and softly clears his throat from lack of use. The only thing that follows is a singular, quiet word: “what?” 

You swallow, regret beginning to creep into your chest already. But backpedaling now wouldn’t be very convincing, so you force yourself to push through.

“What are we?” You repeat yourself. “Are we friends, companions… something more?” 

Link continues to stare up at you, looking taken aback, and like he was expecting you to say anything but that. 

At this point, your confidence is beginning to wane, so you blurt out in your defense, “I just want to make sure we’re on the same page is all, you know? I mean—” 

Regret rears its ugly head once more. You feel too frantic in your explanation. There’s no way you’re being convincing right now. And there’s no way Link can’t see right through it. The last thing you want to do is ruin your relationship entirely. What is wrong with you?! Why would you ask him that in the first place? You two are in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, for Hylia’s sake! What relationship talk could there possibly be?

Link sits up, and to your surprise, he doesn’t try to move away from you. He remains sitting at your side, his expression soft, yet pensive. For a minute, both of you are silent, and you want nothing more than to drop right through the mattress, or rewind time itself. It’s not the usual silence that you have with Link. It’s not comfortable or peaceful. The silence is loud, and it’s beyond awkward, to the point that you feel like you’re ready to bolt out of the room altogether. And then, Link finally speaks.

“I like you, [Name]. A lot.” 

His voice is soft, almost vulnerable, and yet, you cannot help but feel like there’s a second statement there beneath the surface. It didn’t feel like a complete sentence. It felt a lot more like a ‘I like you a lot, but…’ 

“But..?” You ask, your gaze lifting up to meet his. 

Link doesn’t look offended, or disgusted, or even uncomfortable. His blue eyes pull away for a few seconds. His expression doesn't change as he ponders. Then, his head gives a tiny shake, and he looks back up at you. 

“Nothing. No buts,” he clarifies. 

The two of you fall into silence once more, both looking away awkwardly. His words replay in your mind. ‘No buts’. He just likes me… A lot. 

“I’m okay with being whatever you want us to be, [Name],” Link speaks up again.

 ‘Whatever you want us to be.’ How terribly selfless. And how very typical of Link. 

You maul over his words, chewing on your lip as you think. On one hand, you don’t want to unknowingly pressure him into reciprocating your feelings. On the other hand, though, his words imply that he feels the same, but would be willing to set those feelings aside if you wish to merely remain friends. 

“So…” you reply. “Does that mean..?” 

You don’t finish the sentence, allowing Link to speak more about what he feels. He waits for you to continue the thought, until he realizes that you’re expecting him to say something. His eyes fall away too, and he remains silent, using the same tactic. You huff softly. You really don’t want to play this awkward game of hot potato with your feelings. And it seems neither does he. 

“Listen, I like you too, but if you don’t want to be in a romantic relationship, I understand,” you say quickly. “I mean, there’s  a zombie apocalypse, and—“ 

“I want to,” Link interrupts you. 

You freeze, reading his expression. His eyes are soft, his brows upturned. He looks genuine. He means it.

For the umteenth time, silence settles over the two of you.

“Are you sure?” You know the way it sounds, but you have to ask. 

A small grin breaks out onto Link’s face, and he chuckles, nodding more firmly, “Yes, [Name]. I’m very sure.” 

The corners of your own lips curl upward in response to Link’s, “oh.” 

His words warm your chest, and you can feel a bit of that heat travel up to your cheeks as well. You allow your thoughts to simmer and process the information in a quiet moment, before speaking again. 

“So…” you chuckle with a bit of awkwardness, your words playful. “Does this make you… my boyfriend?” 

Link’s own smile widens — so, so warm and loving, “yeah… I guess it does.” 

You look away, your smile practically splitting your face even as you try to keep it subtle. On the inside, though, you’re giggling and kicking your feet. This is a dream — it has to be! But no, Link is sitting just next to you, smiling. You can feel just how hot your cheeks have gotten. 

“That’s, uhm.. that’s great,” you blurt out, already beginning to laugh at yourself. Smooth, truly. It’s okay, though, because Link begins to laugh softly as well, watching as you drag a hand over your face, your gaze focused down at the blanket beneath the two of you. If you had to be awkward, at least you could be awkward together. 

That is something you like about him: you don't have to force yourself to act all cool and nonchalant around him. He is your most trusted companion, and you’ve seen each other through it all — when one of you fell ill, or got an injury, and even through your near-death. You can be a person with him, in your entirety, flaws and all. And he will continue to look at you like you’re the only one in the world that matters. 

You glance back at your watch. 9:31. And you have to wake up at the crack of dawn tomorrow. You look up at Link again, and truthfully, you have no idea where to go now after your confession, so what better way to continue on than to change the topic? 

“We should probably try to sleep,” you offer casually. 

Link checks his own watch, and nods. He climbs under the blanket, and pats the spot next to him, pulling the corner back in invitation. And as always, it’s not one you’ll refuse. You pull the blanket over yourself as well, and scoot closer to your companion. Link welcomes you with open arms, and you’re free to find warmth against his side, your head resting on his shoulder. His arms wrap around you securely, and you find it comfortable to drape your own arm over his waist. 

Moonlight shines through the cracks between the wooden boards nailed over the window of the room. There’s the usual salt and sand in the air. Crickets sing somewhere in the grass below, and you can just barely hear the sound of waves lapping against the smooth shores. Link’s breathing is soft and slow as he rests next to you. You move your head a little, and now, you can hear his heartbeat — a steady, soothing beat to lull you right to sleep.

Chapter Text

Chapter 33

The following morning, you come to still wrapped up in Link’s hold. You have only a few milliseconds of peace before what happened yesterday hits you like a ton of bricks. You lift yourself up onto an elbow, taking a peek at Link’s face. The boy’s fast asleep. Your mind plays last evening on loop. You confessed. Link reciprocated your feelings. He’s now your boyfriend. After so long, it’s too hard to believe, and a part of yourself tries to convince you that it was all just a very vivid dream. 

But no. He’s yours, and you’re his. 

Careful not to disturb the boy sleeping soundly next to you, you lie back down. Your cheek rests against his shoulder, and you sigh in contentment. He’s warm, and it’s dark outside. You can just curl up next to him, forget about any responsibilities and the apocalypse, and go back to sleep.

Knock! Knock! Knock! 

You nearly leap out of bed. Link stirs next to you, but he’s a heavy sleeper. He’s probably just going to roll over and ignore any disturbances.

“Link? [Name]?” Impa’s voice calls out from the other side of the door. “Are you awake? It’s time to go.”

Link sighs, his eyes still closed. He pulls you closer, whether consciously or subconsciously. You glance between him and the door, and debate pretending like you’re asleep too, if only for one more minute. 

But Impa knows that Link is a hopeless cause to try to wake up, so she tries you instead. 

“[Naaame]?” She calls out again, louder this time as she knocks on the door again. Annoyance is beginning to seep into her tone.

You sigh, but you know this isn’t a fight you should even try to win. You promised that Link and you would come on the expedition to Akkala to find Robbie, and the search for him is more important than your desire for a few extra minutes in a warm, cozy bed. 

Impa begins to knock again when you finally give in. 

“Alright, alright! We’re coming!” You call back. 

The knocking stops, and Impa’s voice sounds once more, “Hurry up! I’ll meet you two at the gates.” 

Her footsteps disappear down the hall, and you turn to Link. He looks so peaceful, and a part of you feels guilty having to rouse him, but you know you have to. 

“Link?” You shake his shoulder. “Link, wake up. It’s time to get ready.” 

But Link remains hibernating. You give his shoulder a rough push, but he just ignores it. 

“Are you even alive?” You joke, reaching over to feel his pulse. His heart’s beating fine and steady, so clearly he is. 

“Link, come on,” you huff. “If I was being eaten by zombies, you wouldn’t even lift an eyelid.”

Still nothing. Dang. 

Fine, whatever. You can try again later, but since you’re already up, you might as well get yourself ready. You painstakingly pull yourself out of Link’s hold, to which he groans sleepily, sensing the loss of warmth. But still doesn’t awake up.

You stretch, and walk over to the wardrobe, where you keep some of your clothes, equipment, weapons, and a few tools. Akkala was up north, where it was cooler. Not to mention, summer was due to wrap up eventually, and who knew how long you would spend there. You put on a light, long sleeve shirt for coverage, and settle for your regular shorts, socks pulled up high over your calves. You pull your sneakers onto your feet, and return back to the bed to awaken your companion. 

“Link,” you sigh, giving his shoulder a firm shake. “Get up, it’s time to go.” 

Finally, finally, he stirs and opens his eyes, squinting at you. 

“Hello,” you greet him, voice sweeter. The corners of his lips turn upward, and he reaches up for you. His fingertips brush against your cheek, and you find yourself leaning into the affectionate touch. But you can’t linger in the moment too long. 

“Come on, before Impa breaks down our door,” you joke, taking his hand and pulling his begrudging self out of bed. 

The two of you make your way down to the gates of the city, where Impa and a small group of other runners wait. 

“Finally, there you two are!” She exclaims when she sees Link and you, crossing her arms over her chest. “Took you long enough.”

“Sorry,” you offer her an apologetic smile. 

Impa sighs, and nods to the truck, “come on, you’re riding in the backseat. Make sure you’ve got a gun on you.” 

Link and you stuff yourselves into the backseat, carefully maneuvering around all the other equipment in there. You make sure your handgun is secured on your belt for easy access, and your new baton is within reach. It’s crammed, but altogether not an awful arrangement, unless you’re going to have to flee into the inside of the car. 

The passenger seat door opens, and a burly woman in a beige tank top, with a  heavy-looking rifle strapped to her back, slides in. 

She turns to look at Link and you, maybe in her late 20s or early 30s, and smiles, extending a hand back, “hey, I’m Jen. Pleasure to be working with you. You friends of Impa?” 

You return the smile, and shake her hand, “I’m [Name], and this is Link. Sorry, I don’t think I’ve seen you around the community much.” 

Jen’s smile doesn’t falter, and she just nods, “yeah, I’m usually fishing or helping out in the kitchens. My sister, Jerrin, works with Purah and Robbie. She’s not been herself since he went missing.” 

Jen points through the back window to the two men that sit in the open trunk, “that’s Grayson — he’s my brother — and Will. They’re good, I wouldn’t be too worried about anything. We’ve got quite the team here.” 

“Alright, enough chatter,” Impa says, turning the key in the ignition. The truck roars to life. She rolls her window down, and calls out to the passengers. “Everyone ready? We’re not turning back until we reach Akkala.” 

Link nods, and the others answer in various iterations of agreement. You take a moment to check your equipment for the umpteenth time. Handgun, baton, pocketknife, arm and knee guards — yeah, you have everything. 

You look out the window as Impa drives the car up north. The trunk runs over the stone road of Bridge of Hylia. The view is amazing with the vastness of Lake Hylia beneath it, the water a brilliant, crystal blue. Even after all these years and a zombie apocalypse, the tall bridge still stands sturdy. No calamity could bring down the third Ancient Wonder of Hyrule.

It’s a long journey north, though, and you doze off by accident a few times. Soon, Faron’s humid climate is left behind as you make your way steadily through the border between Central Hyrule and West Necluda. 

Jen turns out to be quite the talker. She continues to talk about this and that throughout the whole car ride. You don’t mind, though most of her attention goes to Link. He’s not much of a participant, but he is a good listener. 

“Impa?” You decide to ask as evening falls. “Where are we going to stay the night?” 

She sighs wearily, “we’ll find someplace to secure. It’s not safe to stay in the car.” 

You nod, and return your gaze out the window, though your attention is drawn to something brush against your hand. You look down, and notice that Link’s hand had creeped up to yours, his fingertips brushing against the side in a wordless request. Heat rises to your cheeks, and you turn your hand over to welcome his own. Your fingers intertwine, and your thumbs rubs soothing circles into his hand for the rest of the trip. 

Once your watches begin to creep to seven, you’re forced to stop and find a secure location to sleep. Impa parks the car, and you hop out. Will and Grayson pull a cover over the trunk of the car, hiding the supplies and equipment in there. 

You scan the abandoned buildings around you, looking for someplace that looks like it could sustain the group for the night. 

“There’s an open window there!” Jen points out, taking a few steps closer to the abandoned building. You follow her gaze, and see the window too, up on the second floor. It’s not very high up. 

“Alright, you three go investigate. Be careful,” Impa tells Jen, Link, and you. 

You nod, and follow after Jen onto the top of a car, and then higher onto the awning below the window. 

The inside is dim. Baby blue walls, holding within them a bedroom. There is an uncanny neatness about the room. The bed is perfectly made, the clock stands on the nightstand collecting dust. No blood splatters decorate the carpet or the walls. All is still. 

Link clicks on his flashlight, drawing a spotlight to a small radius within the room. On the wall opposite the bed hangs a flatscreen TV, beneath a thin console table. A large wardrobe stands in the corner of the room, its doors firmly closed. 

Jen creeps towards the door, and gingerly pushes it open. She’s careful not to make noise, but the hinges still creak as it swings open. The house is silent, the coast is clear. She closes the door, and locks it. 

“Looks like we’ll be safe here,” Jen said with a smile. 

Her hand idly brushes against the handle of the wardrobe. She tugs on it to check the inside for supplies, but the door swings open with the weight of a body. The stench of decay washes into the room in an instant. 

Jen leaps back, reaching to swing her gun to her front. The zombie lets out a groan, but before either of them can react, your hand is on your baton, connecting with the head of the undead. Blood splatters across the previously untouched rug, and everything falls silent once more. 

Jen, Link, and you stand frozen for a moment, but the zombie’s definitely dead now. 

“Nice going,” Jen comments, being the first to move and nudge the zombie with her boot. It doesn’t react, so she picks it up carefully, and drags it over to the window, pushing it out. You’re rather impressed yourself. You didn’t expect such quick reflexes, let alone from you, but given how long you’ve been surviving around the undead, perhaps you should give yourself more credit. Your body and mind has adapted for the sake of your survival. 

“Impa!” Jen calls softly, waving her hand out the window to get the other woman’s attention. 

Impa climbs up to join the three of you, and Will and Grayson follow. She looks around the room, and nods in approval. It’s not much, but it’s enough for your group to spend one night. 

Jen helps the two men push the wardrobe in front of the window to barricade it, while Link, Impa, and you move a small sofa out of the living room of the apartment and into the bedroom, before locking the door once more for safety. 

 It’s decided that two or three people could sleep in the bed, while the others take up the sofa, armchair, or rug. Grayson quickly offers to sleep in the armchair, and Will says he’d be happy to sleep on the rug. You decline the invitation to divide up the bed with Impa and Jen, preferring to stay on the sofa with Link. That arrangement pleases everyone, and soon, the group is getting ready to get some sleep. 

After chewing on some dried rations — your dinner — you leave your equipment hanging on the back of the sofa, where it won’t get in the way, but still remain within reach. Grayson is already passed out cold in the armchair, snoring a little. Will lies down on a clean portion of the rug where blood hadn’t splattered everywhere. Jen is doing some maintenance on her gun, sitting on the edge of the bed, while Impa stands by the wardrobe blocking the window, attempting to peer through the tiny crack between the wood back and the wall.

Link is already laying down on the sofa, his blue eyes following you with tender expectation. Of course, the two of you were going to sleep together, just as you’ve done since forever. As you pass by him, he reaches up, catching your arm. Your eyes meet his. He looks sleepy, his expression gentle, lazy, and full of admiration. Heat rises to your cheeks, and you’re tempted to bat his hand away out of embarrassment. 

Instead, you give the room around you one last glance, before joining Link under a thin blanket. You find your spot on his chest, and his arms are quick to wrap around you, enveloping you in his warmth. Your eyes drift shut, exhaustion from a lengthy car ride finally seeping into your bones. Before you drift off, you feel Link press a kiss to the top of your head while no one is looking. 

Chapter Text

Your Journal

Stage 1: Victim is infected via a bite.

Duration: ~5-7 days

The victim’s body begins to decay, and their consciousness progressively falls to insatiable hunger. Victim is likely to experience loss of senses, such as eyesight, and high fever. Skin turns ashy and discolored. 

Stage 2: Viral / Runner

Duration: Unknown

The mind is almost completely controlled by the parasite, but the victim occasionally shows signs of brief moments of regaining consciousness, though not for long. The body is least decayed at this stage, and the victim is extremely agile, with good hearing. Its eyesight, however, is still poor, mostly focusing on movement. 

Stage 3: Walker

Duration: Longest

The victim is no longer conscious, only acting on its instinct to feed. They’re much more decayed, slow, and rather dumb, easily distracted if something is tossed their way. 

Mutation 3.1: Bomber

Duration: Until it explodes

Appearance is yet unknown. Presumably, they sneak up behind the victim, and explode. Nothing aside from blood and chunks of flesh are left behind after it.

Mutation 3.2: Shrieker

Duration: Unknown

Mutation only occurs in infected infants and young children. Typically reside in one place. Their chest cavity had become exposed, allowing for a greater lung capacity. When the victim approaches, it will let out a prolonged, ear-piercing scream, disorienting them, and drawing other zombies to its location. Any interactions between it and other zombies are unknown.

Mutation 3.3: Goon

Duration: Unknown

These zombies are much taller than typical Walkers, standing at 7-8 feet tall. They're muscular, allowing them to carry heavy weapons, occasionally rebars with concrete still attached to them. Their skin is thick, and they are unnaturally strong despite their decaying muscles. For it's strength, it sacrifices its speed, making them incredibly slow.  

Stage 4: Volatile / Nightcrawler

Duration: Unknown

Only come out at night. Their flesh has found a way to regenerate itself in spite of the decay, becoming firmer and stronger in the process, but also severely prone to sunburn.