Chapter Text
The chime rings in the wind outside, and Ryan blinks open his eyes. It's still dark outside, but if he's awake, then it must be around six or so. He turns over, spotting his sister where she is in her bedroom. No monsters. Great. It's just another day when none of the monsters come near the house. Although Ryan is anxious about leaving to get supplies. On the other hand, Sarah is eager to get outside, even though Ryan wants her to stay home. Home where the door is locked, and where Sarah can be safe.
He gets up slowly, careful not to make much noise. The windows provide a perfect look outside. Only the ones in Sarah's room have a cover over them. Ryan has always slept on the couch, and he needs the view outside. Staring out into the trees, he spots something moving. You better not come any closer. He can't quite tell if it's one of the monsters, or an actual person. In some ways, people are worse. When they see a house in good enough condition, they try to take it without trade. Move on. The figure soon comes into view, what used to be a person standing about twenty metres from the house. Long claws, and jaw completely gone. The tongue hanging from its mouth makes for a creepy sight as it stares up at his wind chime in the tree.
Then, without any thoughts at all, the mindless creature walks back off into the distance, and Ryan sighs in relief. He'd rather not have to engage with any of those things. The last time, he almost got bitten by one, and most bites induce infection. He can't leave Sarah by herself. Not when there is barely anything left for her as it is. No friends, and not even a safe environment to go outside. She's still a teen, and Ryan quite vividly remembers being that age. Although he was much less extroverted and talkative.
He checks all of the shelves. They've only got enough food to stretch for another three days. Three days if they only eat two meals a day. Two smaller meals. Barely anything. Great. Ryan tries to think of the best place to go. There are plenty of places that haven't been touched yet, but they're all quite deep within the red-zone of things. Dozens of monsters. He also cannot know for certain that they haven't already been cleared out. When the news first came, people were rushing to buy– or steal –as much as possible. That was before it all went to shit.
Ryan turns back to his sister, and this time, she's staring at him. He waves.
"Hey. Did I wake you up?"
"No. I normally wake up at this time." She mutters.
"Sure."
He makes use of their rations for breakfast. Sarah stares outside for most of the time. Ryan can imagine what she's thinking about, and what she's eventually going to ask about.
"It's best if you stay home. I'll be gone for as long as I am, so even if I don't show up later today, that doesn't mean I'm never coming home. That happened last time." He reminds her.
"It's still better to see that you are fine." She responds.
"I know, but there isn't much that I can do about that. If I get eaten by a monster, I want it to be me only."
"You better not." She retorts.
He doesn't plan on it, but just encase, he has taught her what to do if he never comes home. Ryan refreshes her on it, before going to get everything ready for another supply run. The largest bag is the one that Ryan has for supply runs. It's heavy, but he can hold it, and it's balanced in most situations. He exchanged every zipper on all of the smaller pockets for button closures, because they are much more quiet. Over the years, he's sewed on more pockets. They're for the smaller things. A flashlight, first aid equipment (albeit expired) and some small mechanical toys that he uses for distractions if he's in a pinch.
"I'm leaving. I'll try to be home tonight, but there's a chance of a horde coming in, and in that case I might need an extra day or two. Remember to keep away from the windows. If you're looking outside, keep your distance. You may not see them, but they can see you." He tells her.
"Okay."
Then Ryan is out the door. The trees surrounding their home are only helpful when hiding. Otherwise, Ryan feels uneasy with so many blindspots. So far he hasn't seen any of the monsters. He encounters part of a skeleton near the road. He's seen so many that it no longer bothers him. It just means that he is close. He sees several abandoned cars, and trucks. A few have corpses inside, and the ones that don't have been broken open. He peeks inside one to find it hotwired. There's a package of sugar-free mints in the cupholder. He tucks them into one of the smaller pockets on his bag.
It's only ten minutes before he sees a monster. A newly infected, from the looks of it. The bones are practically showing. It's going to die soon. Not enough to eat around here. As he gets closer, it starts to step towards him. Ryan knows it to be no threat. He almost admires it– or rather, the person it used to be –for managing to get away from whatever infected it in the first place.
Every infected that gets enough to eat becomes mutated into something inhuman. Ryan hasn't seen it himself, but he's seen the aftermath. Most of them have claws, sharp and hard enough to take off a head with ease. Huge fangs were another common feature. The most eerie feature that Ryan had heard about, was from a man that he had met a year ago. He had claimed that one of the monsters spoke to him with a human voice. It could mimic the voice of a child, or a friend. That was something that freaked Ryan out most of all. Especially with his sister in mind. She wouldn't hesitate to help someone in need.
Ryan feels bad for this one, though. He can't bring himself to kill it, but it's far gone enough that eating something now would be of no help. So he walks away, leaving it to stumble after him at a pace too slow to catch anything.
He encounters a car with the window rolled down. There's a skeleton in the backseat lying down, but there's still a bag sitting in the driver's seat. He takes it in hand, finding a few pamphlets of various hospices in New York. He sighs, checking the other pockets. There's a necklace, and from the looks of it, it's silver. Score. The monsters hate silver. It burns them. He puts it around his neck, and grabs out another object from the bag.
"Never thought that I'd find anything like this." He mutters.
Various pill bottles inside of a large, plastic bag. He wonders if any would be valuable. If he finds a nice enough person, he might be able to trade them for something more useful. He places them in his bag. He finds nothing else, so he moves on.
The next few vehicles are basically empty. Although he finds an unopened water bottle in the door of an old pickup truck. He doesn't open any that have corpses inside the front seats. He'd rather not take things in such close proximity to the dead anyways. Especially not food. On one, he finds a sign saying "help," and can only imagine what good it did with the corpses inside. As he draws nearer to the larger parts of the city, he only encounters more corpses, and more vehicles left to wither away.
He finds a few homes scattered about, as well as what looks to be a café, and a gas station. He checks the windows, and they appear to be empty, so he goes inside. He takes the soap bottles from the washrooms, and some flour from the kitchen. He can probably make something with it at home. He finds an unopened bottle of rootbeer, and reasons that there's probably enough preservatives in it to outlast half a year after it's best before date. He goes out the employee exits to avoid tripping any possible bells.
Inside one home, he finds some more baking supplies. He tucks them inside his bag. He can feel the weight start to slow him down, but he can find more. He finds some brand new batteries in a drawer. He can use them to replace the dead ones in his power bank at home. He likes the comfort of having his phone, even if he can't message anyone. Sarah likes playing games on hers, so she'd enjoy having charge again as well. Other than some food gone too bad to be of use, Ryan finds nothing more. He goes into the bedroom of the last house, finding some clothes. He also finds some sewing thread, which will be useful for when Ryan needs to repair things, or when Sarah wants to make something.
Most of the buildings he finds are boarded up, or clearly empty of anything useful. He finds one with the entire interior burnt beyond recognition. He can't tell what business it used to be. He spots a few monsters, heart rate elevating as he watches them. All of them have common features, fangs and claws, one of them has multiple sets of eyes. Ryan makes sure to avoid them, quietly.
He's getting closer to what used to be the more populated area of the city. He can smell what seems to be smoke as he crosses over from one street to another. There's some rental scooters still parked on the curb side. He finds a bike in the middle of the road, as well as something gorey that he can't even begin to describe. He checks the windows of the nearby homes. One of them is suspiciously noisy. He can hear something banging inside, so he avoids it.
He climbs into the window of one home, searching for anything useful. He takes the toothpaste in the washroom. When he goes into the kitchen, he finds a large container of water. It's too much for him to carry, so he leaves it behind. He also finds a bag of cat food, which he decidedly takes. It's better than nothing, and only for if they need it.
As Ryan starts to cross the street, he finds himself looking at one of the monsters. Shit . Its eyes are staring right at his, and Ryan stays still, hoping that it will turn away, but it only tilts its head. Ryan isn't taking any chances, so with his straps pulled tightly, he turns, and starts to run away.
"Fuck fuck fuck fuck." He whispers.
As he rounds another corner, he almost walks right into a stumbling pile of starving monsters. He pivots, changing route into what used to be someone's backyard. He climbs over a garden fence, searching for somewhere to hide. He can hear whatever is following him getting closer, so he ducks into the nearest building. An apartment complex, by the looks of it. Ryan climbs the stairs until his legs ache. By the time he feels safe, he's reached the twelfth floor. Cursing, he sits inside of the hallway, berating himself for being so stupid as to get caught.
"Sarah will have my head when I get back." He mutters.
He tips his head back, letting it fall into the wall as he rests his body. He didn't expect to be running so much today, but he isn't dead, so that's a plus in his book. Just as he's about to get up, however, he hears a sound. Something moves nearby, and Ryan practically jumps as something jumps into the hallway through an open window.
"Okay, fuck you for scaring me like that!" He exclaims.
A ginger tabby cat strides toward him, carrying a dead rat in her mouth. Ryan cringes as it brings the catch near him.
"Ugh, no thanks." He says.
Then the cat takes off. Ryan tries to catch up with it, not wanting it to get hurt, but it jumps out the window before he can do anything about it. He sighs, hoping that it will survive. If it has done so for around two years, then it should be fine.
He looks around, trying each of the doors. The first is locked, figures. He tries another door, finding it unable to budge. He makes his way to the end of the hallway, all of the doors seemingly locked. When he reaches the door in the left-most corner, he hears something. A soft mewing, and scratching on the door. Looks like you found yourself trapped, huh? He tries the door, and finds the knob turning. He shoves the door forward, but it catches on a chain lock.
"Fuck."
He slots his shoe in the gap, crouching down to take off his bag. He takes out his folding ruler, reaching through the gap to push the pin aside with the ruler. He hears as it scrapes along the metal edges, before it reaches the end. He pries the corner of the ruler underneath the pin, before it pops off. He opens the door, putting the ruler away, and putting aside his backpack for later. I could probably rest here for a bit. Those monsters are bound to be right outside. He peers out the open window.
"Shit."
A horde. Something that Ryan has never seen before. Old and new infected swarming the streets below him. He ducks his head back inside as he feels something brush against his legs. He looks down to find the ginger cat purring against him, its tail wiggling.
"So you got in through the window? You must've climbed the balcony, huh? Quite the escape artist." He states.
He crouches down, spotting the metal nameplate on its collar.
"Schrödinger? What kind of name...?" He mutters.
He feels as though he recognises the name.
"Wasn't there some sort of theory? A cat, and a box... something? "
The cat only tilts its... her head.
"Is this your home? I guess your owner isn't around anymore. Sorry about that." He says.
He sits down on the couch, reaching down to pet her. Her fur is quite soft. He expected it to be dirty, but she seems to be eating. Must be eating rats. There must be plenty throughout these apartments. He leans back, letting his head sink into the soft cushioning.
"I hope that Sarah is okay." He mumbles.
Ryan doesn't even recognise that he is falling asleep. He's so tired from all of the running. He's barely had the time to sleep at home either, and with Shrodinger as his company, he feels strangely safe. He vaguely wonders how he will get home.
"Mmrew?"
"No..."
"Mmrow?"
He groans, his eyes blinking open. He sits up, stretching his arms back as he yawns. The cat sits in front of him, her head tilted.
"Wh...mmhh...what's up?" He questions.
She purrs loudly, and it's only when he looks down that he sees the dead rat. He's about to decline, when he hears a sound. It's coming from behind the closed door near what appears to be both the kitchen, and washroom. Ryan goes completely still. Fuck.
"Mmmrew?"
Please be quiet. Please, please, please! She only picks up her latest catch, and takes off. It takes him a moment to realise where she is going. She heads straight for the closed door, before dropping the rat. Then, with one of her tiny paws, she pushes the rat under the door, once, then more, and then retracts it. Ryan dares not even breathe as he hears something move inside that room. It comes closer, and closer to the door. He can hear something breathing– wheezing –and then the wet sound of it feasting upon the rat. Ryan tries not to gag. Then, something bangs into the door. The thing makes what he can only describe as a raspy sigh-like whisper as its fingers sneak under the door. Whatever Ryan was expecting, it wasn't this.
Long, curved claws reach out for the cat, before curling upwards. Ryan just now notices the various scratches along the bottom of the door as it makes even more. The cat, however, remains unbothered. For it to have turned into a monster like this, it must've been eating regularly. He looks at the cat. So this is where your owner went. You've been feeding them this entire time, haven't you? It is sickening, and yet completely endearing. Whoever this monster used to be, their cat loves them enough to not only stay, but also make sure that they are fed by catching rats.
He's snapped out of thought as she excitedly comes over, pawing at his leg. Maybe... maybe I could try to... resolve this for you. He looks towards the door. It isn't impossible to kill a monster, and surely one that had been feeding on only rats for however long must be quite weak in comparison to the ones that chased him here. He slowly steps towards the kitchen, grasping a cast-iron pan. If he can kill this monster, then maybe the cat will want to come home with him. Sarah would be thrilled, and Ryan can't just leave a cat in the middle of nowhere by herself. Come on Ryan. You have a pretty good swing. You can chop wood with an axe, so you could probably do harm to some freaky monster without dying.
He gets closer, careful not to step too near to the frontside of the door as his hand touches the knob, curls around it, and then... he takes a deep breath. The moonlight makes it even more frightening as Ryan turns it, and the door creaks open as he steps back, and then–
"Fuck!"
He falls back as the monster takes a swipe at him, slicing a small bit into his cheek as it attempts to lunge. Chains are the only thing holding it back, tied to the frame of the bed in the corner of what appears to have once been a bedroom. Ryan can only stare. At the monster, and the room. The entirety of the walls are caked in splotches of brown. Almost everything inside has been flung about, caked in dried blood, and rotten pieces of the monster's own flesh. He spots a photograph on the wall. A young man around Ryan's age, holding the cat with a smile on his face. How can stuff like this happen?
The creature before him barely looks humanoid. He's never seen a monster like this. Its jaw is so long, jagged fangs hanging out. The top of its skull is flayed open, and strange tendrils squirm about. It's as if they are searching. Remnants of what must have been clothing are stuck to its skin, torn up to reveal how thin it is. It sniffs the air, nose opening up in the most horrifying way possible. Ryan falls back a little more, not willing to chance how close he is.
It tilts its head, before three long tongues come out from between its teeth. It licks off the small spot of Ryan's blood from its claws, before growling, and then retreating back into the bedroom. Ryan stays put for at least five minutes, stunned. He's never been so close to one of them before. From how monstrous this one is, he wouldn't be surprised if it's been here since the early days.
Being too scared to close the door, Ryan keeps his distance from the bedroom of the apartment. He takes out the cat food from earlier, filling the bowl that has presumably sat over a year and a half empty. Schrödinger comes over, eating the food provided. He also fills the water dish, wondering where she got her water from before this. He keeps a watchful eye on the door. He can't wait to be out of this mess, but as he peers outside, he can see that there are still so many monsters outside the building.
"I guess that I'm going to be here for a while. Sorry Sarah, I guess it'll be more than one night."
He pushes the couch to the opposing wall from the bedroom, locking the apartment door. The cat curls up beside him as he lays down. Ryan wonders about a lot of things. He wonders how life would have been had this all ceased to happen. If he would have gone to college, if Sarah would have finished high school. Maybe he would have met someone– a friend, or maybe even something else. It's all useless to think about now. No matter what he does now, he cannot change the fact that society has crumbled.
Ryan wakes up to the sound of the chains rattling. At first, he thinks that one of the wind chimes has gotten tangled, but then he remembers where he is, and his eyes snap open as he startles into wakefulness. The cat is nowhere to be seen. Ryan gets up, careful not to make a sound as he arms himself with a small shovel from his bag. As he gets closer, he can hear the cat's purr coming from the bedroom. It is still dark, and the door is closed most of the way. Ryan curses himself for what he's about to do, pressing a hand to the door as he presses on it, letting the hinges creak open.
The chains reflect bits of light from the sunset coming in the window. They move up, and down, clinking. There's someone there. An actual person. He looks down as something else moves. The cat, purring within the person's lap. Ryan comes closer. He doesn't know what to do.
"What are you doing?" He whispers.
The cat stretches within their lap, and that's when Ryan notices something peculiar, aside from the absence of the monster. This person— who came out of seemingly nowhere —is wearing chains. Ryan's heart drops, and the person tilts their head up to stare at him, their eyes glowing impossibly in the absence of light. Almost as if... they aren't human at all.
"What... what are you?" He whispers.
It has to be the monster, only it now looks to be human again, aside from the glowing eyes. It... he tilts his head up, before lifting the cat out of his lap, and placing her on the bed. The chains fall onto the floor as he gets up. Ryan steps back as the humanoid creeps closer, and closer, and closer.
"Stay away!" Ryan tries.
That doesn't seem to work, so Ryan backs up enough to leave the room, making him safe. The humanoid monster cannot come here. Even so, he tugs at the chains.
"You can't come in here, they aren't long enough." Ryan states.
The monster rolls his eyes– what? –and without hesitation, pinches the base of the chains tied to one of his arms, severing the metal in an instant. Ryan is speechless as the monster destroys the chains with ease. Ryan flees to the far wall, but without any chains, the monster simply leaves the room, following his direction until they are so close that they can touch. Ryan closes his eyes.
"You're not dying." A voice speaks.
Ryan opens his eyes, but nobody else is there. Only the monster in humanoid form who has yet to kill him for some reason.
"What?" He practically chokes out.
"It's rude to invite yourself into a house without asking, but I'm assuming it is no longer immoral..." The monster says.
I'm hallucinating, or maybe I'm dead already. The monster's glowing eyes search his face, and then he sighs.
"Fuck– too soon –my default coping mechanism in awkward situations is to be sarcastic, and make jokes."
Ryan can't even begin to comprehend the situation. One moment he's on a supply run, and the next he's talking to a humanoid monster as if said monster hadn't tried to eat him the day prior. Schrödinger brushes against the monster's legs, and that's when Ryan realises that he's wearing pajamas instead of the torn up clothing from before.
"Hey sweetie! I've missed you so much!"
I'm dead. I've got to be dead. Being threatened by the monster was a lot easier when it looked like it was from Hell, and not like a socially awkward cat dad.
"How– wh...why?" Ryan stutters out.
"I'm assuming that you're in shock, and I wish that I could explain everything accurately, but I don't really remember much beyond the past week and– of course –two years ago. I'm really glad that someone came along to let me out of there, because as much as this kitty loves me, she can't open the door." He gets in reply.
"Wait, so you knew you were attacking me?" Ryan questions.
"I didn't really attack you, I just needed something. You are what you eat, right? It seems that after eating all this time, I'm now able to make myself look normal again. I did need something to copy, though, and you provided that." The monster responds.
"Wha...wait, that doesn't make any sense. If monsters can do that, then why don't they all look like humans?" Ryan reasons.
"No clue, but in all seriousness, I assume I got lucky."
Ryan can't even make sense of anything anymore. All that he knows is that he can't leave until the horde of monsters are gone. Although it is safe for now, he doesn't know if he wants to spend his time with this guy.
"You can stay here until the other monsters leave, unless you're completely repulsed by me. Although, even with Lady Schrödinger at my side, I'm kind of in need of actual human interaction."
Ryan dislikes the idea already. He hated talking to people even before the world went to shit. Of course it would be his fate to run into an extrovert. He doesn't need any more extroverted energy than his sister supplies.
"I'm not that into talking to people." He replies.
"Well at least tell me your name, mine is Dylan."
Yeah, Ryan is already sick of this.
"Why?"
The look he receives makes him seem like the stupid one, but why tell a monster your name in the first place?
"Well, maybe because I'm thankful, and because I have nothing else to call you."
"It's Ryan." He mutters.
"Great! You've already met my cat, so that's all for introductions. Are you hungry? I don't mean to be ominous, but I'm really hungry, and I'd rather not eat another rat." Dylan rambles.
"Does your diet have to be– you know –meat?" Ryan enquires.
It's a valid question in his eyes, mostly because he has no such sort of meat to offer.
"No. Meat is more of an instinctual craving."
Ryan takes his backpack, looking over everything he has. He barely has anything ready-made. He finds a half-eaten bag of peanut butter Butterpops tucked in one of the smaller pockets, forgotten about from a different supply-run. He also has the root beer, the mints, some crackers, and a roll of caramel-flavoured biscuits.
"I'm not that hungry, so take whatever you want." He offers.
Dylan unfolds the butterpop bag, snorting.
"One of my friends used to sing the stupid advertisement song for these." He comments.
"They're okay, but I've eaten better things since being in an apocalypse." Ryan says.
"I'm much more into salty things. Instant noodles were my entire diet before it shifted to dead rats."
"Healthy." Ryan snarks.
"What did you used to eat?" Dylan asks, snacking on Butterpops and drinking root beer.
Ryan opens the bottle of water he found earlier.
"Whatever real food I could afford to make. I used to make this creamed spinach pasta using the pasta from boxed macaroni and cheese. My sister liked adding the cheese powder to her tomato soup." He tells.
"That sounds interesting. I never liked that boxed stuff, it's too salty. How did Canadians eat that all the time?" Dylan complains.
"I don't think every Canadian ate it. Most other places thought that Americans ran around shooting everyone, and that isn't true." Ryan voices.
"Wasn't, I'm going to assume that we shoot people plenty now." Dylan revises.
"Probably, but I've never shot a person before."
"Really? Nobody like me ever tried to eat you?"
"I said person ." Ryan affirms.
Then it's silent for a bit. Ryan takes a moment to watch the monsters below them shuffle around. At this point, I'm looking for an alternative route. There's bound to be a fire exit out of here that leads to a more secluded alley.
"Are there any fire exits that avoid the main street?" Ryan questions.
"No clue, but you could always use the balconies to get down. That's how the cat has been getting around." Dylan mentions.
"Did you forget that I have a bag?"
"No, but I could carry it for you." Dylan offers.
What? Ryan pauses a moment.
"You..." he begins, " you're not coming with me."
Ryan doesn't expect him to actually look hurt by the statement. It isn't like he's obligated to bring the other to his house. It isn't like Ryan needs to repay him either.
"I'm not bringing a monster home, that's where my sister is, and you are going nowhere near her." He adds.
Dylan looks disappointed, and a little angry. It doesn't matter, because Ryan isn't going to budge. He repacks all of his stuff, paying little attention to anything else.
"So you think that I don't matter because I'm a little different than you." Dylan suddenly speaks.
"You're the one who was a freaky creature a couple of hours ago, so you can't tell me that I'm being ridiculous." Ryan jabs.
"I'm not going to hurt you, or anyone . I don't want to stay in this apartment forever, and Schrödinger can't stay here, so forgive me for wanting to leave."
"I'm not stopping you from leaving, you just can't come with me." Ryan states.
"It'll take forever to find a safer place, not to mention another person to talk with."
"If you follow me, I will kill you." Ryan threatens.
His gaze is stern, and unmoving.
"You know that I could easily kill you at any time, " Dylan points out, "and yet I don't. The only harm I've done is when I scratched you, and it doesn't look like much of a wound."
"I don't care." Ryan clips.
He straps on his bag, before turning to unlock the door, as he opens it, the door slams. Ryan looks to the side. He never should have gone this far into the city.
"Move."
He pulls at the door, but it won't budge. Not with a certain fucker holding it closed.
"You must be so mature." Ryan spits.
The other doesn't respond with words, instead shoving him to the ground. He lands hard, cursing as his head knocks into the wood.
"You're only alive because I allowed you to be. I... I..."
Dylan falls to the floor, clutching his head as if it were the one that just hit the floor. Ryan distances himself further, pulling his bag to his chest. One moment, there's what looks to be a person before him, and the next moment, there's only a monster. It happens so fast, blood getting everywhere. Ryan struggles to get his bag on as he opens the door, rushing down the hallway, and to the stairs. He spots the cat on the way, hiding her in his bag before a terrifying screech echoes throughout the building.
About halfway down, he comes across a fire exit, rushing outside, and down the many more flights of stairs. Something is behind him, and he isn't sure if it's the same one, or a different monster. When he reaches the bottom, he can see the monsters in the street. He goes the opposite way, before breaking into a run once more.
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck! He rushes by several buildings, each with boarded windows. When he finally finds an open window, he climbs inside, shutting it, and then locking it.
"Fuck. I'm never coming here again." He decides.
Not when monsters can now disguise as people. People who know how to make stupid jokes, and lure you in. It's becoming more dangerous than I thought. Ryan opens the second pocket a little more, and a fluffy head pokes out.
"You're far better coming with me. He would've eaten you eventually."
He strokes her head, before slipping the straps back over his shoulders. I can't remember if I saw this place on my way here, but this is definitely a house. Ryan opens the door. There's a strange smell. Something sweet, but also bitter. He can't quite tell what it is until he's at the edge of the hallway, looking into the kitchen. That smell. Something he has smelt before. The smell of a recent death. The smell of rot. There's a sound then. The sound of banging, and then Ryan recognises what house this was. The one house he didn't go inside, and for this reason. Whoever had once sought refuge in here was so dead that they were nothing more than a sludge scattered about the walls.
Ryan tries to be quiet as he reaches for the front door. He turns the knob, but the hinges creak as the door slowly drifts open. The banging stops, and he runs. Ryan doesn't think that he's ever run faster than he does in this moment. He can feel every spark of friction on the soles of his shoes, creating enough heat that the plastic there melts slightly, rubbing into the pavement below his feet. He climbs over one fence, stumbling to his feet as he reaches for a taller one, hoisting himself over into another yard. He spots the trees.
Even within the sanctity of the woods, Ryan still runs for around five minutes more to make sure that nothing has followed him. Then he opens his bag, drinking down all of the water, and letting the cat out. She promptly begins to eat grass, and Ryan scoffs.
"Stop that! You're going to throw up if you-"
Something fast darts in front of him, and then she is gone. He watches as a monster– one with large claws, and sharp teeth –holds the cat. She hisses at it, attempting to scare it off, but it doesn't look deterred at all. Ryan can't move. His legs just won't move. His heart drops as he hears something else. The screeching sound of another monster, so loud that he covers his ears. The monster's head is taken completely off as another one holds it in hand, tearing off strips of flesh to feast on. Ryan closes his eyes shut. He's going to die. He's really going to die after surviving this long. He can hear something being torn apart, and he can hope that it's the first monster, and not the cat. Then he can hear something move right in front of him. He's completely winded as something hits his abdomen. He almost vomits, eyes flying open as he chokes.
"That's the last time you ever steal my fucking cat!" A voice warns with the hint of a growl.
"I-It's... I..." He can't even speak.
"I don't want to hear any excuses."
Then Ryan really does vomit. He chokes so hard that he vomits again.
"Oh fuck– I didn't actually hit you too hard, right?"
His head feels fuzzy, throbbing as the pain catches up with him. He vaguely wonders when his mother is finally coming home, even though he knows it better than anyone. She hates him, and he's going to be alone for a very long time.
"Do you think that he's going to make it? I might've hit him too hard."
"Mmow?"
"I probably should apologise, you're right... it bothered me when he said all those things..."
“So you're just going to leave then?! Take off like a coward! Thanks for raising a son, even though you never gave a shit about me! Hey, you probably know that my graduation's in a month, but don't even bother coming, because nobody wants you there, and we both know that you'd rather not have anything to do with your children! I never want to see you again!”
"I'm not a monster."
I'm not. She was going to leave us anyway. It wasn't my fault that she drank, or that she turned off the main road. It wasn't my car that was found in the lake. It wasn't my fault. Even here, sitting at the door... waiting...
"I'm home when I'm with you! Who wants a hug!"
Mom?
"Mmmhh..."
"Ryan?"
It isn't my fault that you wanted to die so badly.
"Mom...? I thought..."
Maybe I did...
"Unfortunately not your mom. Are you okay man?"
I did want you to leave, but I didn't want you to die, so I'm sorry.
"Ryan?"
He tries to open his eyes, but he can't quite get them to stay open. His ears feel stuffed, and so does his nose. His mouth tastes bad, and he smells like vomit. Groaning, he turns onto his left side, clutching his stomach. There's bound to be a bruise from how tender it feels.
"F-Fuuck." He grits out.
"Okay, ‘still hurts. I'm going to carry you, but you'll need to tell me where your house is."
House? He knows where his house is. Of course he does.
"Seven... the number... turn..." He mumbles.
"The seventh turn-off?"
"Mmh-hhmm."
"Okay. Just go back to sleep, I'll get you there, don't worry."
Ryan doesn't see a point in arguing with the voice. That never worked with his mom. He lets himself relax.
"Ryan? Can you wake up? I'd rather not let your sister think that you're dead when I knock on the door."
His eyes flitter open. Fuck.
"When did you..."
"You told me where to go, so I'm claiming no responsibility." Dylan claims.
"Leave. Now. " Ryan demands.
"Do you really hate me that badly?! If it weren't for me, you'd be torn up!"
"Because of what you did when you started chasing me!" Ryan shouts.
"I'm sorry– I guess that I'm still working on keeping my temper in check –but you stole my cat!" Dylan accuses.
"Only after you turned into a monster, and tried to kill me!"
"Who says that I was trying to kill you!"
"If you don't be quiet, I'm going to kill you both!" A voice interrupts.
Sarah is standing in the doorway. Ryan crosses his arms, turning his back to the other as he waves to his sister.
"Hey."
"Are you trying to get us killed by luring monsters over here?" She scolds.
"No, I've already lured the worst one here." He remarks.
"Says you, and you stole Schrödinger." Dylan reminds him.
Sarah looks back and forth at them.
"What's that?" She questions.
Dylan takes off the bag, snapping his fingers just above the opening. Schrödinger's head pokes out, and Sarah's eyes widen with surprise.
"Oh my god – let's get inside –and I'm not letting this... pass by." She says.
Ryan reluctantly allows Dylan inside. I'm going to regret this. Ryan empties the bag as Dylan talks about the cat's favourite things to do, and how she's so good at catching rats that he had to get a noisy collar for her.
"Is your head doing better?" Dylan asks.
"Everything hurts, no thanks to you." He retorts.
Ryan leans in closer.
"If you hurt my sister, I swear-"
"I won't."
Ryan doesn't trust him at all. For all that he knows, they'll be both dead tomorrow. He looks to the couch. There's no way that he's allowing Dylan to sleep in his bedroom, or on the couch. He could so easily fall asleep whilst his sister is eaten.
"You're sleeping in my bed, with me." Ryan informs him.
"Okay, fine." Dylan agrees.
Ryan doesn't normally start fires in the wood stove, but he needs a proper source of heat to make flatbread. Sarah and Dylan exchange stories with each other. It almost makes Ryan forget that the other man is far from human.
"I haven't seen a cat since I was nine. The owner of the nearest convenience store had one, and it looked a lot worse than yours does." Sarah says.
"She knows how to take care of herself. I haven't been able to help her, so she was alone until yesterday. Almost two years without anyone, living off of rats, and whatever else she could find. I was finally able to see her again yesterday, when Ryan helped me out. I can see why he tried to take her... I shouldn't have punched him." Dylan explains.
"You punched him? I'm surprised you're still here."
"He's... Ryan's very forgiving. You're lucky you have him to help you." She only has me because everyone else is dead.
It takes a while before they are ready. Ryan boils some water from the rain collector outside, and makes tea. Dylan eats the most, which makes sense with his... qualities. He seems embarrassed by how much he takes, but Sarah assures him that letting them both spend time with the cat is enough payment. Ryan would disagree, but he knows that Sarah would never let it go if he said so. It doesn't take long for the sunlight to die out. Sarah falls asleep first, as Ryan does his rounds checking everything. He gives the plants water, and makes sure that the lights are all off. He finds a metal bowl, and fills it with cat food. After everything is finished, he dresses in his pajamas, and settles into bed, as far away from Dylan as possible.
"I thought that you were keeping watch, shouldn't you be closer?" Dylan whispers.
"Shut up."
Ryan's head still hurts from hitting the floor, and his stomach took enough of a blow that he's still a bit nauseous. He falls asleep faster than he would ever like to admit, relaxing into the softness of the bed, instead of the solidity of the couch. He doesn't remember his dream, but he imagines that it was about his mom.
Ryan wakes up to something sharp, poking his chest. He groans, trying to turn over, only to be met with resistance. Who? He squirms as the claws dig in deeper, but gentle as to not cause bleeding. His heart hammers even still.
"Dylan." He whispers.
The claws are smaller than he remembers them being, so Dylan is probably not back to being a monster. Maybe he's at some sort of halfway point. Even so, Ryan wants nothing to do with his claws, or the breathing against his back. He manages to pull free from the arms holding him in place. He turns back to observe him.
"Dylan." He calls, only a little louder.
Two glowing circles are the only thing he can see within the darkness of the early morning. That'll never get any less weird.
"Your claws keep poking me." He explains.
"Sorry, I can't help it."
"I'm pretty sure that you can." Ryan huffs.
The hands pull away, but the feeling of them lingers. Ryan closes his eyes, ready to rest a little more. He hears a shuffling, but he keeps his eyes closed.
"Ryan?"
Great.
"What?"
"Well... I'm annoying, and I know that I am but– really, I'm serious when I say this –I can't fall asleep without holding something." Dylan rambles.
Ryan resists the urge to sleep on the couch instead of dealing with this, but then he'd look stupid, and there's a good reason as to why he decided to in the first place. So he opens his eyes.
"You're not touching me with those claws." He says.
"But they aren't claws anymore— here, feel them." Dylan replies.
He holds up his hand, meeting soft fingertips, and the slight edge of fingernails. Ryan sighs.
"I'm... I don't like being embraced." He mentions.
Then, without another word, he gets out of bed. He can only see Dylan's eyes, and then the eyes of the cat as she wakes up from the movement. He takes his pillow.
"Just use this, I've slept enough." Ryan offers.
He doesn't get a reply, but the pillow is taken. With the sunset just brimming the forest floor, he watches as Dylan switches positions into something horrendous. How can he even sleep like that? His arms are wrapped around the pillow, and so are his legs. The corner of the blanket is woven through the space between him and the pillow, where the two objects are squished against his cheek. Somehow, he seems to be comfortable enough to fall asleep. Ryan leaves without another glance, closing the door behind him.
He looks around the kitchen for a while. There isn't much that he can do with what he has. Without any perishable ingredients, he can only really make bland, flat things. There might be something in the attic. He thinks about the idea, eyes drifting back to his bedroom. With Dylan still a wall away from his sister, he isn't keeping them out of his sight. No, not even if he seems harmless. It doesn't matter what he says, he would have killed me earlier if I didn't run.
Out of curiosity, he peeks his head into the bedroom. Now there is only a lump within a blanket. Ryan misses the warmth of the huge thing already. He spots Schrödinger, sitting down beside her on the bed. He strokes her forehead, smiling at the obnoxiously loud purr that resounds from her vocal chords. You two are a pair , he scoffs.
He glances back at the living room. Sarah will be up soon, and it's probably a better idea to have everyone up at the same time. Although Ryan still wants to talk to his sister about the fact that Dylan is not-so-obviously dangerous. He can't wait to explain that. There's no way she'll believe it. Not unless he shows her... but that would be a bad idea. Even so, he wants to discuss it with the monster himself, even if he looks a little harmless underneath all of Ryan's blankets. He tilts his head down to the cat once more.
"You're both adorable, but you're also vicious, aren't you?" He says.
"Mmrow?" She replies.
Ryan sighs, already exhausted. He places a fist onto the headboard, knocking a few times. The blankets don't move.
"Dylan? It'd be nice if you could wake up." He states.
He hears a slight shuffle, but he can't see any movement. Why do heavy sleepers have to exist? At this rate, Sarah will have to help him wake Dylan up. He places a hand on top of the mound, shaking it back and forth.
"Wake up, man."
He hears a sound akin to a huff. He's got to be awake.
"I'm not going to wait around for you to come out of there." Ryan voices.
He takes one corner of the fabric into hand, before flipping it over. He almost falls off the bed when he sees the glowing eyes once more, because what he sees isn't anything humanoid. Large teeth grinding together as it growls at him. Ryan's heart is beating so fast, and he doesn't know whether to run, or scream, or stay still. He's never been so defenseless. In his panic, however, he watches as the creature huffs once more, before pulling itself into the blankets. Oh that fucker.
"Nope. We aren't doing this." Ryan braves.
He stands up, spotting the glare of the eyes from under the fabric's shadow. He ignores it. If he's going to protect anyone, he needs to be brave. So he turns his back to the creature, pulling out some clothes from his bag. He's not giving Dylan his own clothes, that's for sure. He'd fit better into the clothes he found outside anyways. He leaves them on the edge of the bed, and turns around to leave the room.
"I'm going to attempt to make something edible, and you are getting dressed." Ryan tells him.
There's probably a difference between being brave, and being stupid, but Ryan is willing to bet that he's still alive for a reason. So he closes the door as he leaves, and wakes up Sarah, before preparing whatever he can. He finds some oats in the attic, and makes porridge with it. By the time he's finished, Dylan still isn't out of his bedroom.
"I can get him." Sarah volunteers.
"No, I'll do it." Ryan counters.
He doesn't like the possibility of Dylan still being... that. As he opens the door, he feels uneasy. The room is empty by the looks of it, but his closet door is open a little.
"Are you really hiding?" Ryan questions.
"Just go wait with your sister." A voice calls out.
"Why?"
He doesn't hear anything for a moment. Only silence. Now I feel bad. Thinking over everything that has happened in the short while, Ryan probably shouldn't have taken the cat. Actually, if he was able to get out of those chains the entire time, then why didn't he? Ryan leans over, opening the closet door.
"What are you doing?" Dylan questions.
His appearance is less monstrous than Ryan thought it would be. Those claws, teeth, and eyes are still very eerie-looking, but Ryan can handle those. He sits by the door.
"Look I... I never apologised for all that I did." Ryan mentions.
"Yeah, you didn't." Dylan affirms.
Okay. I can do this. I can do this.
"So... yeah, I– um –yeah, sorry."
Yep. I fucked up. I totally fucked that up.
"Oh, okay. That's good, because I thought for a moment that you were having a seizure." Dylan snarks.
Ryan rolls his eyes upon seeing the smirk on his face, even when accompanied by those horrific teeth. He tries his best not to laugh at the situation. It reminds him of when he used to have others to talk to. Friends, or even just people passing by in their own lives. It's a hollow feeling for the most part. In some ways perhaps, the hollowness is slowly filling in, but it's like tar. It clings to the edges of his vessel, so when it finally drops inside, he's already used to the feeling of belonging to nothing at all. Ryan has Sarah, and that's all that he needs. What more can you want in this world?
"I made something to eat." Let's just get to the table.
The table is quieter than Ryan expects. Mostly because the second Dylan gets food, he starts eating as if he were starved for days, and Ryan thinks that it's probably some sort of monster thing. He would at least have manners if he were normal... I think...
"So... I was thinking about the next time you go out." Sarah begins.
Dylan, who has already finished his bowl, begins to scrape the edges of the pot to ensure that nothing goes to waste. Ryan turns to her. Just the mention has his appetite lost, so he pushes his bowl over to the devourer seated next to him.
"You want to come." He states.
"I could help out if I come with you— Dylan can stay here, or he could even come with —I'd be protected! I can fend for myself, and you know that!" She argues.
You can't even chop the firewood. Dylan looks between them.
"I'd prefer not to watch siblings fight, so I'm going to put it out there that I'm fully prepared to protect anybody... so... yeah." He mentions.
"See?! He may be kind of weird, but he's tall, and he survived on his own this long." Sarah lists.
"Those are all just observations. You don't even know him! I know things about him that you'd— well —you'd think twice about keeping him so close to you!" Ryan blurts.
"Harsh." Dylan mutters.
Sarah pushes herself out of her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. Ryan knows how frustrated being a teenager is. He can't imagine how hard it must be having your teenage years lived out in this world of chaos.
"What he means is that I'm... I'm infected." Dylan informs her.
"What?!"
Great. Your wording needs work in every scenario! Ryan shoves his chair back with how quickly he gets up.
"He said that wrong. He's not actively turning, Sarah, he is turned. He was turned back when this all started, but somehow the infection mutated him back into himself." Ryan tries to explain.
"You didn't think to tell me?! How does that even happen?!" Sarah exclaims.
"I really don't know." Dylan answers, "but I guess that I can be of help to you— I'd like to stay here, I mean."
"You said that before, but we don't know if you're going to eat us both in a few days. What if we find nothing to eat? I'm fairly certain that you almost ate me before." Ryan points out.
"What?!" His sister reacts.
"You stole my cat! Or I guess if you mean the first time, I wasn't trying to eat you. You're assuming things." Dylan defends.
"Why were you even still in that apartment anyways? You broke out of those chains like nothing." Ryan curiously comments, now remembering the moment.
"I was only able to after the second mutation, and by then I could think clearly enough to know that I was hungry enough to potentially eat my cat! Not to mention that she needs a place to stay, and clearly the apartment wasn't safe!"
"Okay, okay. Fine. "
Sarah only stands up, her chair drawing back, and screeching against the floor.
"Nuh-uh! You don't get to come in here like this, and tell me this all without letting me share my own opinion!" She says.
Ryan sighs, "okay, fair."
Sarah only stares at him.
"Dude, I don't think she was done speaking. You interrupted her." Dylan whispers.
His sister glares at them both even harder, and he isn't in the mood to deal with this right now.
"Yeah, and now she's pissed at you for mentioning it." He replies.
"We are going out for supplies, and I'm coming with you." She decides.
Ryan immediately declines, "who agreed to that, because I didn't."
"And you didn't have to." She retorts.
"Fine then, let's all get eaten by monsters!" He snarks back, dramatically.
"We won't. Your zombie boy is coming with." She says.
Ryan looks to Dylan. No, I can't see that going well. We'd be doomed.
"Yeah... how about no? "
Dylan scoffs, "wow. Way to make a guy feel wanted."
"You're assuming that you are–"
"I know you like me." Dylan decides.
"Who said that?!"
"Didn't have to, it was implied."
"Yeah, sure."
Sarah claps her hands together, tilting them forward.
"Okay, so we're done now? It's decided?" She confirms.
How did this even happen? Next time let's get eaten by the monsters before deciding to find refuge in an apartment building.
"Fine. We'll all leave. Should we bring the cat on the mission too?" He enquires, mostly sarcastic.
"Yeah, I'll carry her. Do you have, like, a bag... or... yeah, a bag?" Dylan asks.
Ryan turns to his sister, hoping she understands what he's implying. Finally a reason to get rid of that bag she's so set on destroying. Not sure why, it seems useful to me. She takes the hint, rushing to her room for the glittery pink backpack covered in a pattern of blue balloons.
"Here's your gear." She tells Dylan.
The guy seems happy at how ridiculous the bag is, cooing at his cat like she's a baby, and tucking her into the backpack with gentle hands. He has to adjust the straps a lot just to get it on, the thing having been made for a pre-to-young teen, and not someone so tall.
"Sweet." He says.
The cat's head is sticking out of the unzipped part, and Ryan just cannot with this situation, but it's happening regardless, so he might as well try to find humour in it all.
"I'm the one who knows the most about which places to avoid." Ryan comments, pulling out his makeshift map.
Dylan gives him a look, and Ryan returns it with one he hopes conveys his thought of "shut up. I did my best when I drew it."
"So this entire area—" he draws a large X over the areas from before, "off limits. Too many monsters."
He draws dotted lines around the areas he's thoroughly searched already, leaving only a few nearby areas to search. The other two make small comments here and there, but Ryan shuts down most of their suggestions. He's not being rude, they just don't have the experience that he does when it comes to this sort of thing.
"Have you been here yet?" Dylan asks.
He points to a section out of the way, past what Ryan would be comfortable travelling to. Ryan watches him closely, and he appears to be serious.
"No. Why would we go there?" Ryan questions.
Dylan smirks, straightening in his chair like he's the smartest person in the world.
"Only because there's a farm there. It was fenced off, but it's been abandoned since the woman who lived there died— or at least it was. Plenty of stuff there, and it's out of the way." He informs them.
"So you used to be a trespasser, fun ." Ryan mutters.
"Who cares," Sarah argues, "if there's anything useful, then we should go there."
Ryan really wants to believe that something would be there, but he can't be hopeful. Not when he knows what's out there. He's seen so much. Too much. Far more than Dylan has seen, or what he's allowed Sarah to see.
"It's probably empty, or worse— maybe the monsters have set up camp."
Dylan sighs, "look, I know that we got off on the wrong foot. I really messed up on that, but if anything happens, I will be there. Any monsters up there are probably withering away, so they'll be no match for me."
He tenses a little, before slowly bringing his hand closer to where Ryan's sits on the table. Their fingers touch, and Ryan begrudgingly lets his hand settle on top of his.
"Leave some of the burden to us, okay? You have too much, and that's not healthy."
Ryan lets the touch linger, before pulling away his hand. He mulls it over a little, but ultimately comes to the same conclusion. They are all going to starve without searching, and what better place to start than one presumably far off from danger?
"Fine. I'm leading, though. Nobody is dying before me if anything happens." He affirms.
"Whatever you say." Sarah agrees with a huff.
"I'll try my best." Dylan shoots.
Good enough.