Chapter Text
The zombie apocalypse didn't start off like it does in the movies.
There wasn't just some day where everyone was shocked by thousands of corpses coming back to life and shutting down society as we know it.
No, it started in Canada.
Weird seeing as how you NEVER actually see the cold country in any work involving the walking dead.
More specifically it happened in Nunavut, some oil corporations were out there searching for the resource, when they just happened to drill into the wrong iceberg, infecting the crew with the new disease.
Everyone kind of just thought the crew had died, which they did, but nobody imagined they'd come back.
It was weird how it all spread, some of the crew had managed to escape on a rescue boat only for the infection to follow, then that boat just happened to crash in one of the only towns for miles around. The universe seemed to be on this plague's side because one of the town's remaining living people took off on a small plane, unaware of the bite mark on his leg.
He flew all the way to Churchill before the infection took root and by then it was too late to save the small tourist town.
The world knew about the disease at that point, spreading like wildfire through social media. You'd think the government would intervene, keeping their citizens safe. But no, instead life went on how it normally did. You were expected to go to your shitty minimum wage job and pretend everything was fine while dead people ravaged through Manitoba. Hell, they didn't even close the damn borders, saying it was under control.
Then, like every other disease, it spread to the rest of the world. People panicked, raiding stores and finding places to hide out and the governments around the world finally decided to stop avoiding it all, but it was way too late at that point.
It all really went to shit when the president of the United states got it, that's how America fell anyway. All the other countries followed after.
It didn't help that they weren't like the dead on TV, they weren't rotting bodies that slowly limped around groaning. If anything they moved just like people, able to run and jump. They did not rot away, instead their skin turned leathery. If you wanted to compare them to any film the best would probably be ‘I am legend’. They were smart and resourceful, even able to open doors to chase after their prey. They became feral, eating anything that moved and losing most of their humanity.
Tommy remembers being six years old and taken out of school, shoved into the back of his parents car as they drove off to his crazy uncle's house to hide in his bunker. A year passed and everything was fine, until his uncle did not come back from a supply run. His parents would stay up late at night, whispering about the world falling to pieces, the virus spreading faster than any before.
Another two years passed before his dad went out and never returned. Leaving him and his mom alone in the bunker, supplies slowly running low. His mom cried a lot in those days; holding him close and praying to prime they'd make it. Then a week later she went to look for food and never returned.
Tommy waited for her, he waited for week’s until all the cans were empty and his water ran out.
He had no choice but to leave after that.
The surface wasnt how he remembered it, everything was so quiet. His uncle had lived just outside a small town that was littered with the dead. Somehow Tommy managed to avoid them, maybe it was the fact that he could fit through things the dead couldn't, or he was just small enough to never be spotted.
Later he found out that most of the Zombies just seemed to ignore him, discovering this when he accidentally fell through the room of a crumbling gas station and landed next to a few corpses. He'd been terrified and assumed that was the end, only for them to glance his way and go back their to search for others to eat.
Over the years he kept up a routine, every week he'd walk to town, collect a few cans and some water from the nearby lake, put it all in his wheel barrow and head back to the bunker.
He talked to a few of the zombies when he felt extra lonely, he even found his mom and dad walking among the dead. Theyd follow him around town and even gently brush into him sometimes making him giggle. He stopped getting too close when they tried biting him, keeping them at an arm's length after that fiasco.
Tommy didn't understand why they didnt attack him, I mean there were those that would come after him but he knew now to avoid those specific dead.
His 16th birthday soon came around and he found himself in a sticky situation. He looked through every house and store in town but it had been completely looted, leaving him hungry and in need of a change
So, for the first time since it all started , the boy packed up everything he needed and left town; waving his parents goodbye.
He spent a year on the road, hijacking a van he dubbed ‘Henry’ and syphoning gas whenever he could. Living on the road wasn't too bad, there definitely weren't as many places that seemed to have as much as his little town did but Tommy still thrived, sleeping in the small nest he made in the back of his van.
Most zombies still didn't bother him but he always carried around a pistol he'd snagged from a stray backpack just in case. It came in handy more than once when the dead grew hostile, the boy always switched towns after that, not feeling comfortable around the corpses nearby.
So there he was, a lanky 17 year old, standing on the side road of a big city watching Henry go up in flames.
He hadnt meant to set her on fire, he found a pack of cigarettes a while back and thought might as well give em a try before he got eaten or some shit. The dead were becoming more aggressive as of late, he needed to be a lot more careful around the corpses than ever before.
So he was on his way to the next town over and ran out of gas. Pulling off on a freeway just outside the city he syphoned gas from an abandoned sports car and lit up a cigarette to wait for the tank to fill.
How the hell was he supposed to know the ash could catch flame! It fell into the puddle of fuel he'd spit out from syphoning and lit up just below his feet. Tommy jumped, a few curse words leaving his mouth only to accidentally bump the side of the hose that went into the sports car, it fell to the ground bringing more gas down to fuel the growing fire.
Tommy tried stomping it out but soon it spread up the hose and went right towards Henry's gas tank. The boy managed to duck behind a car just as his trusty van exploded, burning with the rest of his shit.
He stared at his home now covered in flames, heart clenching when he realised the only thing he had on him was his backpack containing some water, a few days of food, and his pistol. Plus that stupid pack of cigarattes, which wernt that fucking good.
So yeah he was pretty fucked right now.
Hell, even the nearby city was shit. He only spent a few days there but it had barely any supplies. At least he hadn't seen too many zombies in the maze of pavement streets.
Speaking of the dead, he really needed to get out of here. That noise would bring walkers from all over in search of a meal and he didn't want to risk his luck.
So, with teary eyes, Tommy said farewell to poor old Henry and set off towards the skyscrapers.
The walk in was pretty uneventful, aside from the usual stray that stumbled past, not even bothering to glance at the boy. Even then he was still cautious, never sure when a zombie would come after him, he really needed a new weapon. As good as his pistol was he was running out of ammo, even more so nowadays.
As he passed a few department stores in what he assumed was downtown he could feel eyes watching him. It was a bitter feeling that usually followed an attack, so his guard was up.
Only no dead came charging out, nothing signalling immediate danger aside from the gut feeling of his. In fact there weren't any dead, like at all. Not a single zombie nearby leaving the place eerily quiet.
“Okay, time to get off the street Tommy.” He whispered to himself.
He hasn't survived this long without a good instinct, somehow always knowing which corpses were safe and which would eat his face if they had the chance.
Finding the nearest apartment complex, he walked through the shattered glass that used to be a locked entry way. It didn't take too long to get a good place to spend the night. The building was just as empty as the rest of the damn city was and he'd even managed to get a place with a few canned beans, score!
The sun began to set over the concrete city, making it way too dark for the boys' liking. He shut the apartment door, locking it with the deadbolt and chain before making his way to the only bedroom.
It was a pretty plane aside from the dresser, bed, and window leading to a rickety looking fire escape. He always made sure to have a second exit in case shit went down.
Tommy searched the dresser and found a brand new pair of cargo pants, which were a great improvement from his current ripped pants. He also found a slightly used red and white long sleeve, but hey at least it was soft. The clothes were a little big on him but he didn't mind too much, the summer heat was dying down now and soon winter would rear its ugly head.
Tommy was planning on moving south but now, he wasn't sure.
The final rays of light ducked beneath the horizon, only leaving the dull shine from the moon behind. It came through the window and illuminated the soft looking sheets, damn when was the last time he slept in a real bed?
Placing his pack down beside him and the pistol on the window sill, he tucked himself in closing his eyes and drifting off into a dreamless slumber.
Only his awakening wasn't so peaceful.
The first thing he noticed was that burning feeling that clung to his skin the moment he entered the city. The feeling of being watched only amplified as he regained his senses.
Then he noticed how dark it was. It must still be night, but the soft moonlight that acted as his comfort was now gone, replaced by a tall shadow.
Tommy was confused for a moment, until the shadow moved.
He was up in an instant, whipping around to look at the small window behind him.
There, squating on the fire escape, was a zombie.
He was right up against the glass, breath causing it to fog up slightly from its proximity.
It was tall, wearing a green top and black baggy pants, not a single speck of dirt on them. He had greying skin with small red veins spider webbing across his exposed skin. The thing wore a green and white striped bucket hat, like what kinda zombie wears a fucking bucket hat?!
Oh yeah, and the thing was also looking directly at Tommy, electric blue eyes piercing into his soul.
That feeling that he would get when encountering a hostile corpse was flaring in his gut, telling him that this dude was dangerous. They sat there for a few minutes, just looking at one another. Tommy, not daring to even breathe too loud.
He needed to get the fuck away from this thing, it was obviously smart seeing as how it was somehow on the fire escape. His gut dropped, realising he hadn't checked to see if the window was locked, didn't think he needed to.
The dead seemed to come to the same conclusion he did, because without breaking eye contact, it reached its thin hands down and tried to pull it open.
Tommy let out an audible exhale when it didn't budge, thanking prime for saving him from his own stupidity.
The thing wasn't so pleased, growling at the fact it couldn't come in and eat him.
The deep rumble broke the trance Tommy was in, snapping his body into action.
He leapt forward and grabbed his pistol off the window sill, just as the zombie began hitting the glass. He took his backpack and ran as fast as he could out of the room and down the hall.
The boy reached the front door when the sound of glass shattering caused him to jump.
Tommy struggled to get the locks open, flipping the deadbolt and pulling the chain with shaking hands.
When it was open, he vaulted out the door, slamming it shut behind him.
Another smart move in the apocalypse was to make sure you had a back up plan, hence why Tommy chose a room right next to the stairway.
He pulled open the heavy metal door just in time to hear the apartment burst open, a sickening scream following it.
He jumped up above the door and pulled down a steel latch, stopping the entry from opening, another useful thing he noticed as this door was the only one with a lock. Soon the monster was slamming into the thick metal, letting out another cry in frustration.
As handy as the latch was, he was also faced with a new problem. The reason said door had a lock in the first place was because the staircase only led to one place, the roof.
He hadn't had a chance to scout out the roof yet but there had to be another exit, right?
He was practically hyperventilating with how close the whole chase had been, but he couldn't let himself calm down yet.
Tommy ran up the flight, opening the matching door at the top of the stairs. He was met with the sight of a gravel covered roof, sun barely rising. He turned and latched the second lock above the door, maybe a bit of overkill but he wasnt taking any fucking risks.
“Okay think, how the fuck are you gonna get out of this.” He said, turning around and trying to see any other way off the building.
Only there wasn't another door, nothing to help him get out of this sticky situation.
Tommy realised there was one other way off the roof, the idea causing his gut to sink down to his fucking feet.
The only other way down, on the entire building, was the fire escape.
“Fuck fuck fuck, okay you can do this, just be really fucking quiet.” He whispered, making his way over to the metal rails that led down.
Tommy cringed at every shuffle his foot made against the gravel, every exhale shaking in fear.
He looked over the edge of the building, down the metal stairway, but was met with nothing.
The monster must be searching for him, not realising he was on the roof.
Gently as he could, he grabbed the rails and descended the metal ladder. He reached the first landing, being the small bedroom he'd been sleeping in, glass littering the bed and metal grid beneath his feet.
Tommy glanced into the building, noticing only the dark room in front of him. He caught a relieved sigh from escaping, not sure if the zombie was near. Then with a bit more speed, he began to descend the fire escape.
It wasn't the largest building in the area, maybe only ten stories tall.
He was moving down the stairs, getting faster and more reckless as he reached the ground floor, thankfully the ladder at the bottom was already down, probably how the thing got up in the first place.
The boy was on the third floor when he heard it, a groan of metal above him.
He snapped his head up and was met with those chilling eyes, just a few stories from him.
It was trying to be quiet, trying not to alert him that it found the blond.
Only now that it had been spotted it began to run down the stairs.
“FUCK!” He cried, before picking up his own pace, almost stumbling down the damn metal.
He could hear it growing closer as he came to the bottom level, knowing he didn't have time to take the ladder.
Tommy jumped, feet breaking the fall, tucking his shoulder and rolling as he hit the pavement.
Never in his life had he been grateful that he learned parkour in his spare time, an essential in his opinion for the apocalypse.
The boy ran as fast as he could out of the back alley the fire escape was located in, the creature letting out another scream behind him.
The sun was a bit higher in the sky now, meaning he could actually see the street in front of him as he ran full sprint away from the thing that wanted to use his bones as a damn tooth pick.
Tommy looked back in time to see it come skidding onto the road, running after him at an insane speed.
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
He needed to think, there needed to be a way out.
Just then a light caught his eye.
At the entrance of an abandoned nearby mall there was a boy, desperately waving his arms, mirror in one hand. Crouching underneath a loading dock door.
Without thought he set his destination for the building, hearing the things feet against the pavement behind him, growing closer.
He pushed against the pain in his legs, against the burn in his lungs as he ran. The kid around his age ducked under the metal door, giving him an entrance.
The thing seemed to notice this too because it let out an angry growl behind him.
Fuck, it was close.
Just as he could practically feel its arm reaching for him he slid under the metal gate, a loud slam echoing through the room as it was shut, latch locking it down to the concrete floor.
Tommy looked back, watching it shake as the zombie beat against it, Screaming like it was dying.
“Damn! That was a close one bossman!” a voice said from in front of him.
He turned only to be met with two teens around his age.
One was shorter than him, with brown hair just barely covering his eyes. He wore a button up shirt and brown pants, a smile wide on his face. He was the one who let him in.
“Yeah, a little too close for my comfort.” The other teen said.
He was much taller than the brunette, just as lanky as Tommy was. He wore a faded Hawaiian shirt, brown shorts and fuzzy dark blonde hair atop his head.
“Still, not everyday you see someone escape the angel of death.” The brunette laughed.
Tommy exhaled, still shaking from the whole ordeal as he laid his head back on the cold floor.
Only now realising this was the first time he's seen another human being in eight years.