Chapter 1: An End at the Beginning
Chapter Text
“Repent. The end is extremely fucking nigh” - Graffiti, Unknown, 28 Days Later
This is the end of humanity. We are fucked. Completely.
This is the thought that occurs to Malik as he's pressed up against a wall outside of the operating room, looking on in horror as camouflage-clothed soldiers mow down his patients and coworkers alike. This is it. This is the end. This is how I die. I’m not ready. He closes his eyes as the barrel of a machine gun is pointed in his direction. He hears it fire, but he feels no pain. Instead he is showered in bits of concrete from the wall as it is riddled with bullets just beside him from the firing weapon and greeted with the screams of the soldier pointing it at him. He opens his eyes to find his colectomy patient from last week ripping the throat out of the man. Not man, boy. The soldier could be no older than twenty. A waste. This is all a waste of life. Most of these people were not even sick. There was no need for them to die in this senseless way.
But the military is losing control. This Malik knows. And with loss of control comes panic. There can be no more infected if there are no people to turn. They are desperate to regain command of the situation. He should have seen this coming. The soldiers had been restless and wary and sleep deprived for weeks. It was only a matter of time before someone up the ranks snapped and ordered an end to all of them. Scared men were weak men.
The hallway is something from a slasher film. Blood spatter up the walls, pooling on the floor, soaking into scrubs and camo and patient gowns until all Malik can see is red. But as gruesome as the sight of all the bodies and death is, it's the sounds that turn his whole body cold and a shiver rips through him. It's the whimpers and screaming of people not quite yet dead, and the tearing of flesh as the infected rip into their victims, and the gunfire in the distance that signals more death.
Malik stands frozen like a statue entirely too long. Maybe his mind has finally snapped at the sheer horror of what's happening in front of him. He stands there so long that the screaming subsides and the infected start to lose interest in the bodies around him. They do not feed on the dead, a paramedic had whispered to him the week before as they wheeled him away to psych. Five sets of glazed eyes were fixed on him now, mouths drooling blood and ripping through sinew in their hands as they slowly stood to trip and shuffle their way closer.
No matter what. You have to keep moving. Stagnation is death.
It's his father's words in his mind that finally snap him out of whatever daze he's in. Malik tugs a pistol from the soldier's belt. And the knife from his hand. The soldier blinks at him. He's still alive… even as his former patient is slurping up his intestines like spaghetti from his gaping abdomen. Malik grimaces at the sight.
“I'm sorry,” he whispers, before he slices the man's throat. Straight through to the carotid. It's the only humane thing to do. The infected patient chews a few more moments before its eyes drift over to Malik and once again he is reminded that he needs to leave. He needs to go. Now.
He runs.
The sun is barely creeping over the horizon when Malik wakes up. The birds chirp to greet the dawn and the sound of forlorn moans below greet Malik. The air is chilly and damp with morning dew. His nose and cheeks are cold, and hair a little damp as he shuffles around in his sleeping bag. He unties the rope that he was using to secure himself to the branch he was sleeping in and looks down. Three infected are pawing at the tree he's in, looking up at Malik with glazed eyes and drool running out of their mouths. Malik sighs. Good morning, indeed.
“It's your turn,” Kadar calls to him from a tree a few feet away. Kadar's untying himself as well, scrubbing a hand through hair that’s already too long again. Malik sighs again and nods, grabbing his hunting knife from his belt. He extricates himself from the warmth of his sleeping bag reluctantly and then sits perfectly still. They're drawn to movement and sound.
“Hey!” Kadar calls down to the people. No, creatures. They weren't people anymore. It was difficult to keep reminding himself of that. What little research had been done before everything went to shit suggested that the infected retained none of their humanity. None of their soul. They were empty, grotesque husks that were hell bent on their most basic function. Consume. The people that they once had been were long gone. “Over here! Yeah, that's right, come get a taste!” Kadar taps a stick against the tree trunk, climbing down a few branches to get their attention better. “This way. That's it… come on now. You know you want it. Look at how tasty I am. A perfect snack. Let's go. This way!”
Malik rolls his eyes at his brother's words. Always so extra. He waits until the things are almost at the other tree and then silently climbs down from the safety of his own refuge, swinging off the lowest branch to land on all fours. Knife at the ready, he jams it into the base of the closest zombie's skull. It flops to the ground, drawing the gaze of the one just ahead of it. It turns and lunges at Malik, but he easily steps aside and thrusts the knife into its temple. A loud snap and Malik jerks his head up to see Kadar fall out of the tree and land on his back with a groan. The zombie is on him in seconds. A zombie that had been a large, strong man. Fuck.
“Mal! Mal?!” Kadar shouts in panic as his hand holds the zombie's face back. The creature is mindlessly snapping at him, trying to get closer. Its fingers tear at Kadar but Malik is there in a flash, his knife embedded in its skull. Kadar sighs in relief, even as the corpse falls on top of him. Malik rolls the body off his brother and retrieves his blade with a squelch, wiping it on the flannel shirt of the dead man beside them. I’m sorry, Malik thinks. Even after all this time, he can’t help but be sorry every time that he kills one. They were just like them once. They did not ask for this. You’re at rest now.
“Stupid. Foolish. Reckless,” Malik grumbles at his brother, even as his eyes scan their surroundings for any hint of any other unwelcome visitors. Kadar’s shouts may have brought more. He is momentarily relieved to find them perfectly alone.
“It all worked out, didn't it?” Kadar grins at him, as Malik helps him up. His little brother is completely unperturbed by the frown of disapproval on his face. “Breakfast?”
“Pack first,” Malik replies, even as Kadar starts mumbling under his breath about him. Something he was sure about how relentless and uptight he was. Malik chooses to ignore this in favour of clambering back up his tree to retrieve his things.
You must always be ready to leave at a moment's notice. Never be caught unawares.
His father's lessons were drilled into him. As they should have been in Kadar. And yet it was Malik that seemed to remind his brother over and over again of their father's teachings. They'd kept them alive so far, right?
When he was younger, and his father had dragged them out into the woods for ‘survival training’ he’d thought their old man was crazy. It was unnecessary. When exactly were they going to be lost in the woods with no modern technology and no way to provide for themselves? It had seemed ridiculous. Now, he thanked their father every morning and every night before he went to sleep because they were still here. Still alive. And he had to think it could only be thanks to what their father had taught them. Granted, his father had taught them how to hunt and not how to avoid being hunted by flesh eating monsters. But the survival base was there, and it had come in handy more times than Malik could count.
Malik turned on the GPS to check their bearings briefly. They were somewhere in the middle of White Mountain National Forest in New Hampshire. They would continue making their way north. Why north? Malik wasn’t really sure. There was no real reason to pick a direction. Just away. Away from civilization. Civilization meant more infected. Getting out of Boston had been a nightmare that Malik would just as soon forget. They had no family to try and get to. Nowhere in particular to go. Well, sort of. He had some ideas. As long as they were together and away from any cities, Malik would be okay with that. It was late in the summer now and the nights were getting longer and colder. He would have to consider finding them somewhere more permanent for the winter. Where that would be, he had no idea. Staying in one place still seemed like a death sentence.
Just take it one day at a time. Confront the challenge in front of you before you worry about the next one. But always have the bigger picture in mind.
Only when their packs were ready, sleeping bags rolled, and area checked again did Malik allow Kadar to build a fire. They boiled water for the day first. Always water first in case they had to run. You could do without food longer than you could do without water. And then they heated up a can of beans to share between them. It wasn't much of a breakfast but it was something. And if Malik only ate a third of it, claiming not to be hungry, so that Kadar could eat the rest, well… that’s just how things normally went. Perhaps they could try hunting for some meat later. Malik had spotted some fresh deer tracks while he was checking their perimeter before breakfast.
A branch in the not so far distance snapped and Kadar froze with the spork half way to his mouth. Malik stood up immediately, knife in hand. His eyes scanned the area but found nothing. Odd. An animal? A zombie would have made itself known by now. They were not especially stealthy. He maintained his guarded posture for another ten minutes, even as Kadar had already given up in favour of eating. When nothing came of the noise, Malik dropped his arm. He kept the knife in his hands though. It was the weirdest feeling. He couldn't help but feel like they were being watched. Kadar was blissfully unaware as always. It grated on Malik’s nerves. It was exhausting having to be wary for the both of them. He was tired. So tired.
He couldn’t remember the last time that he had felt safe. Even when they had briefly travelled with others fleeing the cities. He wasn’t sure that he was willing to do that again. People generally believed more people meant safety. But to Malik, more people meant more mouths to feed, a bigger target, more chances for someone to do something stupid. Attachments to hurt later when they inevitably died. No, never again. It was better just the two of them.
He kept watch while his brother finished his breakfast and then they shouldered their packs and headed off. He took note of where the sun was and turned off the GPS, Malik wouldn’t waste the batteries anymore than he had to.
It was around late afternoon when Kadar’s complaining made them finally stop by a river. Kadar took the opportunity to strip down and jump into the river to wash off. Malik opted to keep watch once again, sitting on his pack with his compound bow in his hands.
Guns are too noisy. A true hunter doesn’t alert the whole forest every time he makes a kill.
Despite Kadar’s aimless chatting, Malik’s eyes land on a grouse in the tall branches just to the east. He stood carefully and grabbed an arrow from the quiver attached to his pack. Pulling the bow string taught, he aimed carefully and slowly let his breath leave him. The bowstring made a thunk of sound as it released and the grouse a squawk of surprise as it fell to the ground below.
“Fuck yeah!” Kadar cheered, smiling brightly as he splashed over to the shore. He clambered up onto the rocks, completely naked and uncaring as he stepped carefully over to grab their prize. He held the arrow in his hands, the grouse speared through the neck and waved it around in his excitement. “Perfect shot, Mal.”
“Don’t drop it in the river, idiot.”
“That only happened once,” Kadar countered, but he did keep a hand on the bird as he waded back across to Malik. Maybe there was hope for his brother yet. Malik was already busy defeathering the thing as his brother got dressed. He handed the bird back to Kadar as he got undressed to do his own washing, but not before doing a thorough check of their surroundings again. His vigilance had spared them the surprise of unwanted guests too many times to count, no need to get sloppy now. The water was nice on his sore muscles, and he noted that his ribs were a little more prominent than they had once been. Their last restock of food had been two weeks ago before they hit the park and Malik had carefully been rationing the non-perishables. The wild forage would be disappearing soon too with the change of seasons. It should last until they made it through the woods, but there was no guarantee they would find anything when they emerged.
Kadar had already started a fire and was roasting the bird when he emerged from the water and got dressed. He supposed they wouldn’t be going much further today, with the prospect of eating a good meal for once. They could take it easy for one day. He washed their clothes in the river and laid them out on the rocks to dry in the sun. Kadar was salivating over the prospect of meat as he carefully turned the spit, eyes fixed on the blackening, crispy skin of the grouse. His brother had a one-track mind for food. It had once been amusing. Now it made Malik feel like he was not providing enough. Despite Malik giving him part of his rations, his brother was losing weight too. The combination of little food and their constant travelling by foot had left them both wasting away.
The grouse was decently fat, and Malik ate his half for once. The feeling of being full for the first time in a long time made him placid and sleepy, but he was still alert enough to hear rustling in the forest. He held up his hand for Kadar to be quiet, and listened. The rustling stopped. That feeling of being watched still hovered over him. It left him feeling unnerved. Was someone stalking them? Was there someone else out in these woods? Would they have to run? Or worse, would they have to fight someone? They hadn’t had to kill anyone. Yet. No one still living at least. Other survivors they had spoken to had warned them not to be so trusting of others. Plenty of people out there were just as dangerous as the infected.
“It’s just an animal or something,” Kadar said after a moment.
“I don’t think so,” Malik mumbled, still scanning the trees, hand resting on the hilt of his knife.
Malik trusted his intuition implicitly. And it told him to be careful. There was something out there. Someone. Someone that had followed them from their previous camp site. Whether it was a friend or not remained to be seen. But Malik would not be resting easily tonight.
The rest of the evening was spent getting ready for bed. They found boughs big enough to sleep on, hauled their packs up the trees and tied themselves into place for the night. The moon was hidden behind clouds and the forest was pitch black. The kind of darkness that your eyes didn’t adjust to. Just all encompassing, disquieting obscurity. Kadar had been asleep within minutes, and Malik listened to his soft snoring as he lay on his side watching the ground below them. Not that he could see much. It was a pointless endeavour. But every once and awhile, the clouds would drift and the moonlight would light the forest floor enough for him to assure himself that they were alone. He had his knife in his hand under his pillow, ready to pounce if he had to. The paracord tied around him was a little looser than usual. Not loose enough for him to fall if he fell asleep, but not as tight as he routinely tied it. Just in case. He would be ready if their stalker made an appearance. Malik did not relish the thought of taking a life. He was not a murderer. He had taken an oath to help and to heal. But if it came down to them and whoever threatened harm, he would not hesitate.
He was drifting in and out of sleep, beginning to think that he was paranoid when it happened. A figure came out of the gloom and paused just under them, looking up at their sleeping figures. It was a man. Malik thought they looked to be a similar size. The stranger was surprisingly silent in his movements, even with a heavy pack, not unlike the ones they carried, on his back. His face was covered with a hood, but Malik could tell that he was watching them. His fingers tightened around the knife handle and he all but held his breath, not moving. Who are you? What do you want?
The man watched them for a moment before a twig snapped behind him and the stranger turned in the direction of the noise. Malik watched as the man carefully lowered his pack and pulled a knife from his belt. The zombie stumbled towards the man and he carefully dispatched it, with a quick and efficient blow through the woman’s jaw. The man quietly laid the zombie on the ground before removing his knife. He was trying not to wake them. It only made Malik more suspicious.
The figure went over to the remnants of their fire and picked up the grouse carcass. There wasn’t much left on it. They did not waste food. Regardless of how little was left, the man left with it, shouldering his pack. He could make out the man pulling a few scraps of meat from the bones as he went. And then there was nothing but silence again. Malik’s fingers eased on the knife handle. He’d been holding it so tightly that his fingers ached from the tension in them. Was that it? He was just hungry? It still seemed strange. All that effort just for a few burnt scraps of food.
Malik kept listening for what must have been another hour, but the stranger did not return. Eventually sleep overtook him, more questions on his mind than answers.
The next week went much the same way. They travelled north during the day, keeping the river on their right side. It had the benefit of providing them a bath every day and water for them to boil and drink. It was also an easy landmark to follow. Malik checked the GPS every morning to make sure they were on track. He was not as lucky in hunting however and so they were forced to eat their supplies. They were nearing the edge of the park when they were coming up on the last of it. They should be out of the woods by tomorrow afternoon, he figured, so when he pulled out the last protein bar from his pack he handed it to his brother with a smile. Kadar looked at him warily.
“What about you?”
“I ate one this morning while you were sleeping in, lazy shit.”
Kadar studied him a moment and then seemed to accept that his brother was telling the truth. He’d never been very good at reading Malik’s poker face. Malik drank more water that day to try and trick his stomach into thinking it was full. Occasionally he peeled a bit of edible bark from the trees to nibble on. Not too much, just enough to keep the rumbling at bay. If Malik kept stopping to stuff dandelion leaves in his mouth, his brother didn’t notice or comment. They stopped as dusk creeped in and Malik found a patch of blueberries. He picked the plants clean and shoved the full can at his brother with a tired smile.
“I already ate my fill. This is your half.”
He was particularly exhausted that night and though he stayed awake longer than Kadar to listen for their shy travelling companion, he couldn’t fight the tiredness that pulled at him.
Kadar frowned at the half-full bag of jerky leaning against their fire pit the following morning, pulling the note attached to it to read as Malik climbed down from his sleeping spot.
“What does this mean?”
Malik pulled the note from his brother’s hand and studied the small tidy script. The paper looked like it had been ripped out of a journal from the date in the top corner.
You need to eat too.
Malik looked up to see his brother frowning at him, but Malik was looking around them for any signs of their silent stalker. He knew it was pointless but he couldn’t help but look anyway. How did he know that Malik was giving his brother all of their food? He would have to be pretty close to them to observe that, wouldn’t he?
“Says the asshole who steals our scraps!” Malik called out into the quiet morning.
There was no response. Not that he’d been expecting one. Kadar was looking at his brother like he’d lost his mind, even as he snatched up the bag and stuffed three pieces of jerky into his mouth. He handed the bag over to Malik who looked at it warily before taking a piece out and looking it over. Seemed like a lot of work to go to to poison them. Though maybe he just wanted to gain their trust before he stabbed them in the back and took their supplies. He wasn’t about to trust anyone but his brother out here. People did terrible things in desperate times. It was them against the world.
“Have you not been eating?” Kadar asked quietly, breaking him out of the long stare he had leveled at the jerky in his hand. And of course that was his brother’s concern. Not that some mysterious stranger was watching them.
“I’m eating, don’t worry,” Malik lied. “Our stalker is just stirring the pot. We should be careful. We don’t know what his intentions are.”
“His? You knew someone was following us? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Malik chewed on the jerky thoughtfully, “Didn’t want to worry you. He never did anything threatening. Was just keeping his distance.”
“Seems his intention is to feed you,” Kadar told him with a grin.
“Don’t trust so easily, kid,” Malik said with a serious look. “We can’t trust him. We don’t know him.”
“Maybe he knows some good jokes,” Kadar mumbled, unpacking the pot to boil some water for the day. “Sure would beat listening to your pessimistic mother-henning.”
“That pessimistic mother-henning has kept us both alive,” Malik reminded him with a scowl. After the fourth piece of jerky, his stomach stopped aching. He would have kept eating but his shrunken stomach was apparently full after so little, and he didn’t want to make himself sick. It would sustain him until they found somewhere to scavenge. It was enough for now.
He grabbed the pot and made his way to the river for water, pushing their mysterious benefactor out of his mind to focus on the day in front of them.
Chapter 2: Seatbelts and Stunning Stalkers
Notes:
I've been messing around with this chapter for a long time now. I've had it and the next one since I posted the first chapter, having written them all at one time. It's not how I want it, but I can't keep looking at it. So I hope it's alright.
I have been feeling supremely unmotivated, so I'm sorry for the slow updates. I have ideas for things. But then I go to actually write and it's just like... Nope! :D We'll get there. Some day. XD
Edit: I forgot my zombie quote at the beginning. It's there now.
Chapter Text
“So until next time, remember: Cardio, seat belts, and this really has nothing to do with anything, but a little sunscreen never hurt anybody.”
- Columbus, Zombieland
The small, sleepy town of Randolph appeared to be deserted. They stuck to the edges of buildings as they scouted the town, keeping a wary eye out for any signs of life or the undead, respectively. When nothing had jumped out at them by late afternoon, Malik relaxed ever so slightly. Which wasn’t saying much really.
“Let’s hit the pharmacy. We need to restock our med kit. Might be some snacks and things too.”
Kadar nodded, knife still in hand and followed his brother quietly to the small building off the main street. The windows were smashed in and Malik hoped that it hadn’t been looted clean already. He threw an empty can down an aisle and when nothing came looking after the sound, he deemed it safe enough. They split up so Kadar could look for food and drink as Malik looked through the pharmacy, pulling gauze and bandages and carefully reading through medication names. He stocked up on antibiotics, just in case. It would seem people had already made off with all the pain medication, but he did find a single bottle of hydromorphone under a counter and slipped it into his pack. They hadn’t had any serious injuries yet, but Malik believed in being prepared for any situation. It wasn’t like there were any pharmaceutical plants making this shit anymore.
Kadar tossed a bottle of warm gatorade at him and Malik smiled thankfully, draining the whole thing before he placed the empty bottle on the counter. He was about to ask his brother what he’d managed to find when the sound of a car outside brought him up short. He grabbed Kadar and pulled him behind the pharmacy counter.
Peeking around the corner, he watched two men jump out and make their way into the store. One held a hunting rifle, the other a pistol. Shit, shit, shit. Malik looked around and saw a back door on the other side of the pharmacy, motioning for Kadar to go first. His brother had just slipped through when someone grabbed his pack and hauled him back. He closed the back door with his foot as he fell back, to keep some distance between the men and his brother.
“Wait, hold on, where do you think you’re going?” a man asked him in a heavily accented voice.
“Let him go, we’re only here for the antibiotics,” the other said behind him, with a similar accent. Something European. Italian maybe?
Malik’s hand gripped his knife and he swung out blindly behind him at the man holding his bag. The hand released him and he fell forward onto his knees, jumping up and holding his knife at the ready in front of him. The two men looked at him with concern mostly, until one laughed at him.
“Feisty,” the first one said with a grin. “I won’t hurt you. Just wanted to talk. Where are you from?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Malik grumbled, looking over their guns. Do not come back in here, Kadar. Do not be that stupid.
The second man had turned away to look through the bottles behind the counter. He kept looking at a list in his hand and then back at the bottles, frowning. Malik couldn’t help but be a little curious. They hadn’t shot him yet. That was good. Maybe he could help them. And then they could just part ways amicably. Or something. It was worth a shot at least.
“What are you looking for?”
The blond one looked over at him from his search, seeming to weigh his options of how much to trust a complete stranger. Finally, he sighed and spoke, “Antibiotics. His sister has an infection.”
Against Malik’s better judgment, he responded, “You want things ending in -cillin or -mycin.”
The first man’s eyes widened, “You have medical experience?”
“A little. Not much,” he lied. His hand reached for the door knob and the darker haired one held his hunting rifle back up immediately. Malik froze.
“Not so fast. We need you.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Malik growled at him, grip tightening on his knife.
“Not your call anymore.”
“Ezio…”
“No. Claudia needs him,” the man growled. “You help my sister. Then you can go.”
“I won’t-” Malik started to say, but then this ‘Ezio’ moved with a speed that Malik wasn’t expecting. He slashed out at the guy but the butt of his rifle slammed into Malik’s temple and then all he knew was darkness.
Kadar hesitated at the door as it slammed shut behind him. What the hell, Malik?! His hand reached for the knob to go back for his brother, but a hand covered his mouth to silence him just as another reached around his chest and hauled him away from the door. He struggled but the grip on him was firm. Kadar chanced a glance up into the hooded face of his assailant only to be met with stoic amber eyes.
“Shhh,” the man said quietly, “Be quiet. They’ll hear you.”
Kadar’s eyes narrowed and he renewed his efforts to free himself, making his captor roll his eyes and huff in annoyance. The grip tightened and Kadar realized with some resignation that he wasn’t going anywhere if this guy didn’t want him to.
“Stop struggling. If you promise to be quiet, I’ll let you go. Okay?” the man whispered again, fixing Kadar with an even, serious look that rivaled Malik’s when he meant business. He studied the guy’s face for another moment, and then nodded. The guy released him and Kadar fell on the ground as he scrambled away from him. He made a beeline for the pharmacy door, and the guy grabbed his pack to keep him from entering, making him fall back on his ass again. This guy was going to get a punch in the face if he thought that he was going to keep Kadar from getting to his brother.
“Don’t be stupid,” the man hissed under his breath, leveling Kadar with an angry glare. “You don’t know what they want. They could be dangerous. Think your brother starved himself to keep you alive just for you to rush in and get yourself shot?”
“How…” Kadar began and then his eyes widened, “It was you. The jerky. How long have you been following us?”
The guy shuffled his feet, shrugging his shoulders. “Since Plymouth.”
Kadar’s eyes widened again, “That was like… a month ago.”
The guy shrugged again, looking at the ground, but he crept closer to the door to listen in. Kadar did the same, but popped his head up to look through the window. And just in time to see Malik get knocked out.
“Mal-” he started to shout, but the guy covered his mouth again and dragged him behind the dumpster out back. The back door slammed open just as they got behind cover, someone coming out to search for the source of the noise. The two of them held their breaths, pressed into a corner and trying to stay quiet.
“I’ve got what he said, let’s go…” a voice said from inside. And then more insistent, “Ezio. Let’s go.”
The door shut and the guy released Kadar again. He kicked at their stalker until he had some space and raced around the side of the pharmacy just in time to see the car drive off.
“Fuck. Fuck!” Kadar looked around wildly. What the hell did he do? Those shit heads had kidnapped his brother. How was he supposed to catch up to them? What were they planning to do with Malik? What if-
“Come on,” the other guy said, grabbing Kadar’s arm and dragging him over to the parking lot of abandoned cars by the pharmacy. “One of these has to work.”
They lucked out on the second try (the stranger apparently knew how to hotwire a car) and then the guy was driving them off in the direction the car had gone. How they were going to find Malik, Kadar didn’t know. But he had to try. Malik would probably murder him anyway for getting into a car with a complete stranger. Hadn’t he said that they couldn’t trust this guy? That they didn’t know his intentions?
“Why are you helping me?” Kadar finally asked, looking over at the guy. “What do you care if they took my brother?”
“Got nothing else to do,” the guy admitted with a shrug and a lop-sided grin.
Kadar narrowed his eyes at him. What kind of answer was that? Who risked their lives for complete strangers because they were what… bored? He looked to be about Malik’s age. He was wearing a hoodie and military cargo pants tucked into his boots. A slouchy beanie covered his hair. Was he a deserter? He said he’d been following them since Plymouth. There was a military base near Lexington, he knew. That was a long way from Plymouth though. Maybe he just grabbed the pants from somewhere. They were all looters and thieves in this new world. That didn’t seem right though. They were tucked in like the military guys did, and his laces were done in a way that reminded Kadar of how his father had always done his combat boots. A military man through and through.
“You a soldier?”
The guy looked over at him in surprise, but only for a moment before returning his eyes to the road. “Was.”
“So what? You just abandoned your post?”
The guy laughed bitterly, “Something like that.”
Kadar remained quiet for a long time, arms crossed over his chest.
“Put your seatbelt on, kid,” the guy told him, eyes still on the road.
“Seatbelts seem kind of pointless when it’s the end of the fucking world,” Kadar replied.
The guy punched him in the thigh so hard that he got a charlie horse and Kadar groaned.
“Won’t ask again,” the military guy growled. “Don’t need your brother coming for me when you fly through the windshield and become a smear on the pavement.”
“You’re scared of Malik?” Kadar laughed, but he did up his seat belt. “Big, military guy like you?”
“Not scared. But your brother knows what he’s doing.” There was a pause, and then with a little more curiosity the guy asked, “What did you guys do before?”
Were they really going to sit here and play the getting to know you game? How much should he really say? He couldn’t help but feel like Malik would tell him not to divulge any personal information. But the guy had been honest with him and told him that he was a soldier. He could at least return the favour. But what if he was lying? It was too much to think about. Especially when all he could really think about was how some psychos had taken off with his brother. The guy didn’t seem so bad. He’d tried to feed them. Well, no… he’d tried to feed Malik. He couldn’t be that bad.
“I was at Harvard. Getting my Masters, civil engineering,” Kadar told him, staring out the windshield like it would reveal some clue as to where his brother had been taken. “Malik’s a doctor. Surgical resident. General surgery.”
The guy nodded, but looked confused. “How do two nerds like yourselves have so much survival training?”
Kadar chose not to get offended by being called ‘nerds’. He’d been called worse. “How do you know we have survival training?” he asked instead.
The guy gave him a look like Kadar was being stupid. “Like I said, your brother knows what he’s doing. You, on the other hand…”
“Hey, I know stuff too!” Kadar protested, feeling a bit like a whiny brat. But whatever, fuck this guy. “From our dad. He was a military man too. Used to always take us on trips out into the woods. He left Mal out there on his own for a week once, when he was twelve. Like a test. Malik made him promise not to do it to me.”
“Your dad sounds kind of crazy,” the guy said, but he was smiling a little.
“Yeah. Maybe,” Kadar agreed with a grin. “Useful now. For a couple of nerds.” The guy huffed a laugh. Yeah, maybe he was okay after all. “I’m Kadar, by the way. My brother is Malik. What’s your name?”
The guy paused again, looking over at him and shifting a little uncomfortably. Maybe he was shy after all. Or maybe he was hiding something. His behaviour was strange in any case.
“Altair,” he said finally.
“Like the star?” The guy nodded. “Huh. Cool name.” The silence stretched on after that and Kadar began to fidget. He didn’t like silence. It just reminded him that someone had Malik and they were doing god knows what to him. “How are we going to find him?”
“Mud on their tires,” Altair pointed to the road. And sure enough every so often, there were tire prints on the road. Kadar had to admit that he was a little impressed. It was the kind of tracking that he thought Malik would have done. Or that he might have, if he wasn’t so busy panicking. New guy seemed good under pressure. Definitely a plus in the light of the way things were now.
“Smarter than you look,” he admitted.
Altair glared at him and then looked back at the road with a sharp intake of breath as his eyes landed on marks of the tires pulling off onto an almost invisible dirt road, “Hold on,” he told him, jerking the steering wheel to make the turn. He shut the lights off as they drove down the road. No sense in giving them an idea that they were coming. Yeah, the guy was pretty smart. You’d have to be to survive on your own for so long. Hadn’t he said he’d been following them for almost a month. Kadar couldn’t help but think how lonely that would be. A month with no one to talk to. Even if he’d been listening to them bicker back and forth. At least he had had Malik. Even if he was annoying. It was still another human to talk to. This guy though…
Maybe he’d ask Malik if they could keep him. He knew that Malik was all for it just being the two of them. But the guy clearly had his uses. And he’d tried to look after Malik, when it should have been Kadar looking after him.
After the note, it occurred to Kadar that it should have been obvious that his brother wasn’t eating as much as him. The way he’d started lagging behind. How it seemed to take more effort to haul himself up those trees at night. The way his clothes had seemed baggier. He had a sudden rush of guilt. What kind of shitty brother didn’t realize that their brother was starving themselves to keep them alive? When a complete stranger noticed…
“Thanks, by the way,” Kadar mumbled.
“For what?”
“I didn’t realize…” Kadar trailed off. “I didn’t know he wasn’t eating.”
Altair was silent and then seemed to look pensive, “Don’t think he wanted you to know, kid.”
“Stop calling me kid. I’m twenty seven for fuck’s sake.”
At this, Altair laughed again. It was a good laugh. Warm and rumbling. It was good to hear laughter again. Malik didn’t laugh much anymore. Too busy worrying about every little thing. Yeah, maybe he’d fight to keep this guy. Maybe he would lighten Malik up a little.
“I’ll stop calling you kid when you stop deserving the title. Maybe grow up a little and stop relying on your brother so much. You’re spoiled.”
“I’m not spoiled!” Kadar groused. But he knew that he was. Malik protected him. Always. He took the whole world on his shoulders so that Kadar didn’t have to. It had always been that way. Maybe he’d stopped realizing it at some point. Maybe he was taking advantage. He vowed to try harder. Maybe lessen Malik’s burden a little. “Maybe I rely on Mal a little too much. But he’s real stubborn, you know. Let’s see how you do trying to tell him no.”
“Like I said, I’m not scared of your brother,” Altair said with a grin. “Maybe he could do with someone telling him no once in a while too.”
And that Kadar would love to see. But first they needed to get him back. It was getting dark out, and the road was getting a bit harder to see, but through the brush of the forest there were faint flickering lights. Huh, power. A generator maybe? Altair stopped the car, reaching into his pack and pulling out a pistol. He looked it over, checking the clip, and then slid it into a holster on his hip. Next he pulled out a long rifle. Looked like a sniper rifle. Not something every civilian was carrying around with them. And Kadar couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't noticed it before. Kind of hard to miss something like that.
“Leave your pack. Grab your weapons.” Altair climbed out of the truck and then hauled himself up into the bed of the truck, leaning forward on the cab of the car with his rifle to look through the scope. “Huh. Cabin. No lookouts.” He paused his scanning, to look back at Kadar. “Brother’s still alive. Easy to spot that grumpy face of his.”
Kadar couldn’t help but laugh a little at that. Too true. “Let’s go say hello then.”
Altair shook his head with a grin. “You're much too eager, rushing in is a good way to die. Recon first, kid. Follow me.”
Malik glared at the blond man wrapping a bandage around his head. The guy kept giving him apologetic smiles, which did not improve his mood any. He had a splitting fucking headache. He was god knows fucking where. Kadar was probably losing his mind. If he hadn’t already been eaten by fucking zombies. Fuck, what if they’d gotten him. What if he was already dead because Malik wasn’t there to protect him. His hands fidgeted, not unlike how Kadar’s did when he was anxious about something.
“What’s wrong?” the blond guy asked.
“My fucking head hurts,” Malik growled with a glare.
“Grumpy stronzo, aren’t you?” the dark haired guy said from behind with a grin. “Look… I’m sorry, okay? We needed you. My sister…” He motioned to a single bed in the corner where a young woman was resting. “She’s sick. And we don’t know what we’re doing. Can’t exactly take her to a hospital.” When Malik continued to glare at him, the guy sighed. He did look apologetic. Not that that meant anything to Malik right then. Not when Kadar was out there all alone. “Please…”
“I have people to look after too, you know,” Malik grumbled, “And now I’m here. And they could be in trouble.”
“We didn’t see anyone else,” the blond one said, “I’m sorry. We’ll take you right back after. I’m sure they’re fine. The town is abandoned.”
“For now,” Malik mumbled in a sigh. The guy tied off his bandage and then stepped out of the way. They were both just staring at him. Malik considered just making a run for it, but well… maybe he could just get this over with quickly. He should at least check her out. “Was she bitten?”
“No. Just a bad cut. We didn’t have the easiest time getting here.”
“Nobody has,” Malik agreed. Finally he stood and made his way over to the sleeping girl. She was quite beautiful. She looked to be the same age as Kadar maybe. Her skin was flushed with fever and sweat covered her forehead. “Get me some boiling water and towels.”
The two moved to do so behind him and Malik turned his attention to her bandaged leg. The dressings were soaked in blood and pus. He was sure whatever was underneath was going to be bad. The girl whimpered as he unwrapped her leg, hissing in a breath at the cut underneath. It was long and jagged up the side of her calf. It probably had needed stitches at some point, but instead it was just open and exposed. And in between the cut, well…
“Merda,” the one guy said beside him, plunking down a boiling pot of water and some clean rags. “It wasn’t that bad yesterday.”
“It’s not good,” Malik agreed. “Did you bring my pack?”
The blond guy nodded, rushing to grab it but before Malik could get into it the dark haired one stopped him. “What do you need in there? I’ll get it. I don’t know if we can trust you yet.”
Malik rolled his eyes. “My medical kit. It’s in the left zipper compartment.”
The guy pulled it out and handed it to him wordlessly. When Malik pulled out a scalpel the guy grabbed his hand, “What are you doing?!”
“The infection is very bad,” Malik told him calmly. “If you want to save her leg. Save her, for that matter. We need to cut away the infected area and drain the wound. It’s not going to be pretty, but she should be able to keep her leg. Antibiotics are not going to cut it. If we leave this she could get septic and die. She might anyway…”
“You said you only knew a little bit.”
“Well, I lied,” Malik told him. “Maybe I didn’t want to be abducted by strangers for finding out that I’m a surgeon. I hear we’re in short supply these days.”
“A surgeon,” the blond one smiled, excited by this information. “Better than we could have hoped for, Ezio. I thought you might be a nurse or something.”
Malik gave this Ezio a look, waiting for permission. When Ezio finally nodded, Malik nodded back and then pulled on some vinyl surgical gloves. It sure wasn’t a sterile environment, but what choice did he have? “Hold her down. In case she wakes up.”
He’d been operating for about twenty minutes, and managed to cut away most of the infected and decaying flesh on the outside of the wound. There was no suction to evacuate the infection, so he’d had to resort to scooping with his fingers. He was just thankful that the girl was out from the fever. He shouldn’t have been thankful for that because it surely was not a good sign, but doing this without anesthesia would have been torturous. He was about to start slicing again when the door to the small cabin slammed open and all hell broke loose.
Ezio had his rifle up with inhuman speed again. The blond fumbled with his pistol before pointing it as well. And in the doorway, with their own guns raised were his brother and some other guy who he didn’t recognize. Who the fuck…
“Kadar, stop!” Malik said immediately, putting his hands up.
Kadar took in his bandaged head, but didn’t lower his weapon. The other guy seemed to be looking at Ezio, the only real potential threat in the room. Though it was hard to tell precisely what he was looking at with the hood obscuring his eyes. “They took you Mal!” Kadar shouted, looking between the two men and then uncertainly at the girl on the bed. “What the fuck is going on?”
“We… borrowed your friend here,” Leonardo said carefully. “We needed his help.”
“You kidnapped my brother,” Kadar growled, correcting the statement. “Let him go. Now.”
“Not until he’s done,” Ezio said back, voice low and dangerous. He was looking back at the unknown man beside Kadar with the same kind of look that he was surely receiving. “Put your weapons down. Now.”
It was clear that no one was going to be putting their weapons down in this standoff and Malik felt frustration boil up inside him. He couldn’t stop in the middle of surgery. The longer the wound was open and exposed the further the chance for a worse infection.
“Enough!” Malik shouted, “Kadar, and whoever the fuck you are, go sit over there. You two, get back over here. I need hands.”
“But Mal…” Kadar said, looking forlorn.
“Not now. Later. I’m fine. Go sit, and shut up.”
“Leonardo, watch them,” Ezio said, lowering his weapon with one last wary look at the stranger and then putting his hands back on his sister’s shoulders.
Malik went back to work without looking, even though he was suddenly anxious. Who the hell was that guy with his brother? A hooded figure. Their stalker perhaps? He glanced over his shoulder at the guy. He was leaning against the wall by the door, rifle cradled in his hands watching Malik work. He couldn’t see the guy’s face, but he was definitely watching them. Kadar was pacing with agitation in the corner. Still, no one was shooting at anyone so that was good. He could accept a momentary truce.
“Focus,” Ezio growled at him and Malik snapped his attention back to his patient.
Another half hour later and he was sure that he’d carved out the worst of it. Nothing to do now but flush it, stitch it up, give her antibiotics and pray to whatever gods they believed in. It was all they could do. He wished he could do more. He finished stitching neatly, spread some antibiotic cream over the incision site and then wrapped the leg carefully.
“I don’t know if it will be enough,” Malik told Ezio with a grim look. “But that's all I can do.”
Ezio nodded, looking pale and tired. Malik looked through the pile of bottles that they’d lifted from the pharmacy and gave Ezio instructions on what to give her and for how long. How to treat the wound. What to look for if the infection got worse, and what that would mean… likely amputation. He threw the bloody rags into the fireplace along with his gloves and then rinsed his surgical kit with the hot water in the bowl. He’d have to disinfect it properly another time.
“Alright. I upheld my end of the bargain. Can we go now?”
Ezio looked like he wanted to tie Malik to his sister’s bed to keep him but he sighed and nodded. Leonardo spoke up though as Malik gathered his things. “Thank you, amico mio. But why don’t you all spend the night? It is dark out now. It will be safer, yes? I can make something for dinner.”
“Thank you, but no. I think we’ll just be going.”
But then he turned and saw Kadar sleeping in an armchair in the corner and his resolve wavered. How long had it been since they’d slept indoors? Had some semblance of safety?
“Couldn’t hurt to stay one night,” the stranger said from where he was still leaning against the wall. “Kid’s tired.”
Malik’s eyes narrowed at him, “And just who the fuck are you?”
“Wait. Don’t you know him?” Ezio was immediately wary again, raising his rifle to point at the man again. To the stranger’s credit, he didn’t get jumpy. Didn’t raise his rifle. Just stood there, calm and quiet as always. It said that he was no stranger to being held at gunpoint. Malik could not be sure if this was an admirable trait or not.
“We haven’t been properly introduced, no,” the man agreed, but his lips quirked into a bit of a grin, “But we know each other. Kind of.”
“You’ve been following us a long time,” Malik folded his arms over his chest, trying to figure out how to proceed. “Why have you decided to grace us with your presence now?”
“Kid wanted to run back in. Might have gotten himself killed. Thought maybe you wouldn’t like that so much.”
Malik blinked at him in surprise. Well, he was right about that. He wouldn’t have wanted Kadar to run back into the pharmacy. So the stranger had intervened. To save Kadar. He’d brought him to save Malik. But why?
“Thank you,” he said instead, if a little grudgingly, “For keeping him safe for me.”
The guy tilted his head in acknowledgement, leaning his rifle against the chair beside Kadar.
“Do you always wear a hood?” Malik asked, eyes narrowing at him. “Are you afraid for people to see your face?”
The guy shrugged his shoulders, still smirking. “Habit, I guess. Not sure why it should bother you so much, Mal.”
“It’s Malik.”
The smirk only grew larger and Malik wanted to throttle the guy. Why, he didn’t know. It just felt like the guy was making fun of him or something. It rubbed him entirely the wrong way. This mysterious man who had tracked them through the woods to lecture Malik on his eating habits. Just who did he think he was?
“Well, I’m Leonardo,” the blond man said with an awkward smile, “That is Ezio. His sister, Claudia. We know Malik now, so you are…”
“Altair,” the hooded man mumbled, slouching down the wall to sit finally. He jerked his thumb over to the armchair. “Kadar, Malik’s brother.”
“And how do you know each other?” Ezio was still looking at the hooded man, or Altair, with distrust.
“We’re travelling companions,” Altair mumbled, leaning his arms on his knees.
“He’s been following us for weeks,” Malik corrected, still watching him just as Altair stared back. Or at least he thought he was. He still couldn’t tell because of the damn hood. Maybe he would burn that sweater while he slept.
“Why have you been following them?”
Altair shrugged his shoulders lazily, “They were interesting.”
“That’s not a real answer,” Malik growled.
Altair just shrugged again, much to Malik’s annoyance. “It’s the only one I have for you.”
“You-” Malik wanted to slap him. Right across his stupid smug grinning face. “Fine. Whatever.”
“Food!” Leonardo announced, clapping his hands together. “Let me put something together. You must be hungry.”
“He is,” Altair replied and Malik had to work very hard not to yell at him.
Seriously, who the hell was this guy? Marching right into his life and acting like he knew him. How much could he possibly know about them after stalking them from the shadows for these last few weeks? Did he honestly have nothing better to do? No one else to bother? Oh. Well… Malik deflated a little. That was actually kind of sad. What if he really didn’t have anything better to do because everyone he knew was already gone?
“I’ll… help Leo. Seems like you two should… I don’t know… figure your shit out.” And with that Ezio was gone into the little kitchen off to the side.
Malik didn’t quite know what to do, so he went and sat in front of Kadar, resting his back against the side of the chair. A physical barrier in between this stranger and his brother. And then, just because it was pissing him off, he leaned forward and tugged the guy’s hood off. He didn’t try and stop Malik but he did frown at him. And… oh. Their stalker was really good looking. That was unexpected.
“Better?” Altair asked, still frowning.
“I like to see who I’m speaking to,” Malik muttered back, not quite able to draw his eyes away from those handsome features.
“Really? I thought you just liked to yell into the void at me.”
“Well you didn’t exactly come by to introduce yourself. How else was I supposed to respond?”
“Didn’t feel like taking an arrow to the chest,” Altair grinned at him. And the full effect of that lop-sided grin with those warm eyes, left Malik a little breathless. Maybe the hood was better left up. For everyone else’s protection. Because that was just unfair. “You’re a good shot.”
“I guess,” Malik shrugged his shoulders, finally tearing his eyes away. He watched the two men in the kitchen instead. They kept casting wary glances over their shoulders at the two of them, talking quietly between themselves. Likely about what to do with them. Malik wasn’t sure that he could trust them. He wasn’t sure he could trust this guy either for that matter. “How did you find me?”
“Wasn’t that hard,” Altair said, stifling a yawn but ultimately failing. He didn’t elaborate any further, much to Malik’s annoyance. He rested his chin on his arms and continued to watch Malik intently. It made him slightly uncomfortable.
“Something on my face?”
“No. Just never seen you this close.”
Malik felt his cheeks flush and Altair’s smirk reappeared. At this point, he definitely had to be baiting him. He felt a resurgence of aggravation. “Wouldn’t think you would have seen me at all, since you only came by when it was dark out.”
“You saw me, hm?” Altair perked up a little. “Thought I was being sneaky. Should have known better. You’re always so perceptive.”
“You don’t even know me, don't speak about me like you do,” Malik countered, eyes narrowing once again.
“I guess not,” Altair shrugged again, “But I know you would do anything for that kid. And that you’re pretty clever. And that you’re not always so serious, but maybe that’s only when he’s around.”
Malik felt strangely exposed. This guy had been watching them more closely than he’d realized. It should have been creepy. Instead, he found it oddly… endearing, if a little unsettling. It was odd to feel someone take enough interest in you to notice these things. And still he knew nothing about this guy. Except that he’d left him some food. And that he’d brought his brother back to him.
“What do you want from us?” Malik asked instead.
“What do you mean?” Altair looked confused by the question, and Malik focused instead on his eyes. Like he would be able to determine if the guy was lying to him or not.
“You keep helping us. Why? What’s in it for you?”
“Are you always this cynical?”
“It’s the end of the world. Things have gone to shit and no one does anything for free. I’m allowed to be skeptical.”
Altair raised his eyebrows at him, but didn’t look offended by the statement. Instead he looked like he was considering what to say.
“I don’t know. There’s nothing in it for me,” he admitted, eyes turning down to look at his own hands. “I just came across you one day in the forest. At first, I was keeping an eye on you for my own safety. You were the first people I’d seen in awhile. I didn’t know if I could trust you. So I waited and watched. I was… impressed, I guess. You handled yourself well. I thought maybe I would introduce myself at some point, but… I don’t know. I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Interrupt…” Malik was now confused.
“Yeah, you seemed like you were doing just fine together,” he shrugged again. Clearly another habit. “And like I said, I didn’t want to get shot.”
Malik opened his mouth to respond but Leonardo interrupted them with a call of ‘dinner!’. Altair leaned over him and shook Kadar’s shoulder until he startled awake, looking around in confusion. When his eyes landed on Altair, he blinked a few times, confused.
“Holy shit. Why are you hot?”
Altair laughed, running a hand through his short brown hair in what could only be embarrassment before lightly punching Kadar in the shoulder.
“Go eat, kid. I know you’re always hungry.”
Malik was just getting up when there was a bang on the window behind them, a bloody hand making a print against the glass. Ezio swore as he and Leonardo both came out from behind the counter.
“We forgot to cover the windows. The light… Stupid…”
“I got it,” Altair told him, grabbing his knife and moving to the door. The two Italians did not argue and Malik frowned at them. Sure, let the new guy go take care of it. No problem. No telling how many of those things had been attracted by the light.
“So cover them,” Malik growled back at his hosts, and before he knew it he was following Altair outside, closing the door behind them.
“I said, I got it,” he mumbled, even as he walked up to the thing with no fear to put his knife through its temple. He was removing the knife when another stumbled out of the shadows and grabbed Altair’s arm, already moving to bite down. He startled a little, but Malik was already pushing his knife through its brain.
“How have you lived this long on your own?” Malik asked him with a disapproving frown.
“Just lucky, I guess,” he grinned back at Malik, which only made him roll his eyes.
“We should check the perimeter for more.” Malik started walking without waiting to see if Altair would follow him. It was dark out, but there were no clouds tonight so the moon lit up the area around the small cabin. They dispatched two more before they completed their lap around the house and then waited outside another few moments to listen for any more.
“Probably wandered away from the town, got lost in the woods,” Altair said quietly. “Doubt we’ll find many more. I’m sure you’re hungry.”
“Why are you so concerned about my eating habits?”
“Someone has to be,” Altair replied. And Malik was thankful for the darkness because it covered up the blush that had found its way to his cheeks again. What was he supposed to say to that?
“Worry about your own caloric intake,” he told the other man as he opened the door.
The others were seated around the little round table already, plates of spaghetti waiting for them. It smelled heavenly. Malik couldn’t remember the last time that he had had pasta. Real pasta. Not some shitty chef boyardee in a can that they’d pilfered from someone’s pantry. It took everything in him not to stuff the whole thing into his mouth in two bites. Just because civilization had crumbled didn’t mean that they had to behave like wild animals. So instead he carefully twirled some onto his fork and took a normal, respectful bite.
“Fuck, that’s good.” It sounded like something Kadar would say, so he was surprised that the words had come from his own mouth.
Leonardo laughed and smiled brightly at them, “It’s nothing. Just a little something from the tomatoes and herbs in the garden. It’s all about the sauce. Normally, I would have made the pasta too but… well, we can’t be too picky these days.”
“Herbs, salt… better than the shit we’ve been eating,” Kadar said and then shrugged his shoulders at Malik’s glare. “What? It’s true.”
They talked over dinner in companionable conversation. It almost felt normal. Like eating with friends. Before everything went to hell. It was… nice. But Malik reminded himself not to get used to it. They weren’t staying. They couldn’t. Ezio got up several times during dinner to change the cold rag on his sister’s forehead, but was otherwise surprisingly jovial. Maybe he’d misjudged him and he’d just been worried about his sister. Malik couldn’t say that he wouldn’t have kidnapped whoever he could to save his brother too.
It was late in the evening when the conversation fell into a comfortable silence and Leonardo announced that he was going to bed. Malik went to check on his patient with Ezio. They’d managed to crush up some of the antibiotics earlier to get them down her throat with some water, but she had yet to wake up. Malik unraveled the incision site to take a peek and nodded. The skin wasn’t as red and angry as before. This was good. He applied some more of the antibiotic cream and wrapped it back up again. Ezio watched him carefully the entire time.
“Thank you. Doctor.”
“You could have just asked,” Malik told him, with a small grin. “For next time.”
“I couldn’t afford for you to say no,” Ezio admitted. “She’s all I have left.”
Malik nodded again. “I understand.”
Ezio grabbed them some pillows and blankets and retreated into the room that Leonardo had disappeared into. Kadar had already curled up into the big armchair by the fire again and was fast asleep. Little shit.
Malik spread a blanket on the floor in front of the fireplace and watched Altair do the same, feeling a little unsure of how to proceed. Differences aside, the two guys seemed nice. But he still didn’t trust them enough to just go to sleep when they were all vulnerable. And he wasn’t sure that he trusted Altair any better.
“I can take the first watch,” Altair told him, like he had read his mind, sitting down on the blanket. He had his sniper rifle laid out on the floor beside them and his pistol on the blanket in front of him.
Malik hesitated before laying down, pillowing his arms behind his head and staring up at the ceiling. He was tired, and he still had a bitch of a headache thanks to Ezio. He would love nothing more than to sleep. But…
“Not like I haven’t kept watch for you guys before,” Altair told him.
Malik looked over at him confused. There had been suspiciously few zombies gathered around their trees the last few weeks. Had Altair been clearing them out?
“Who keeps watch for you?”
Altair just shrugged again and lay back on the blanket beside him, mimicking Malik to pillow his head on his folded arms behind his head. He didn’t offer any further response and Malik decided that he was a light sleeper anyway. Surely he would hear any approaching noise and be able to react in time.
“Maybe just for a little bit,” Malik finally agreed. “Just let me nap for an hour and then wake me up.”
“Sure,” Altair told him.
Malik closed his eyes, feeling warm and almost comfortable for the first time in a long time. He let Kadar’s soft snores lull him into sleep. And maybe it felt a bit like a dream when someone covered him over with a blanket, gently tucking in the sides.
Chapter 3: Cold Feet, Warm Hands
Notes:
I've written and re-written and re-written again parts of this chapter over and over. I'm done lol. I can't anymore. I also wrote about 90% of it on my phone, so hopefully I edited it sufficiently for any typos with my clumsy fingers. Not much zombie action in this chapter, apologies, but it will come have no fear.
Also, engagement on this doubled over the last chapter. Almost at a hundred hits. So thanks to everyone that stopped by for a read. I appreciate the heck out of you <3
Chapter Text
“You take happiness wherever you can get it. And don't ever be sorry for it.”
- Carol, The Walking Dead
Malik awoke to the smell of something delicious. He felt groggy and slightly delirious as he rolled over to get up. He was sure that he hadn’t slept so deeply since… well, since ‘before’. The blanket ‘bed’ beside his was empty, as was the armchair by the fire, the windows had been uncovered to let a bit of morning sunshine through, and there were quiet voices coming from the kitchen. Malik dug the heels of his hands into his eyes to wipe the sleep from them and blinked dazedly around the room. It looked like he was the last one to get up. And if it was morning…
“You were supposed to wake me up,” he grumbled.
“But you looked so peaceful,” Altair told him with a grin, even as he had big dark circles under his eyes to show that he hadn’t slept much, if at all. “I took a nap when the kid got up.”
“It’s true,” Kadar agreed with a nod, “Breakfast is almost ready. You have good timing.”
Malik took in the pleased look on his brother’s face and wanted to tell him not to get used to it. They weren’t staying. They’d already overstayed. But the smell of… was that bacon? Oh man, how long had it been since he had had bacon. And eggs. How the hell did they have bacon and eggs? It was too much for his sleep-addled brain to handle at the moment.
“Come sit,” Leonardo said cheerfully, “How do you take your coffee, doctor?”
“Malik is fine, and just black,” he mumbled, still feeling oddly unsteady as he got up. He better not have a fucking concussion. He was glaring at his socked feet when a hand steadied him under his elbow. He looked up confused to find warm, amber eyes looking at him with a touch of concern. “I’m fine. Just… half-asleep still.”
“Right,” Altair replied, clearly not believing a word that he said. Malik wanted to shake his arm off, but found that he was suddenly thankful for the steadying grip that guided him into a chair at the table. All of the fussing made Malik uncomfortable. He was the one that fussed. Over Kadar. Over his patients. People did not fuss over him. Strange (and stupidly handsome) stalkers were not supposed to fuss over him. As if Altair could read his thoughts, he shot Malik another grin and Malik rolled his eyes with a huff of annoyance. Kadar looked at him curiously, his own small grin appearing.
“Ezio’s out checking the perimeter. He should be back soon,” Leonardo explained, placing a steaming cup of coffee in front of Malik. He accepted it gratefully, taking a sip with a pleased sigh. They’d run out of coffee weeks ago, and it wasn't exactly a priority. Not when you had to limit the weight you were carrying, and not when sustenance took precedence over preferences. Malik was lost in the delicious bitterness of it. His one vice. Everything else he could do without, but caffeine… he’d missed it. He savoured a few sips, only half listening as Altair and Kadar bantered back and forth.
“You know,” Altair told Kadar with a serious expression, “People are making apocalypse jokes like there's no tomorrow.”
Malik rolled his eyes as Kadar collapsed in laughter on the table. A small smile made its way onto Malik’s face at the sight anyway. It was a stupid joke, but it was nice to see his brother smile and laugh again. Altair grinned at his brother as he sipped from his own coffee mug. It almost felt as normal as last night and it made Malik ache with a longing for things to return to how they were before. He abandoned his coffee reluctantly in favour of checking on his patient.
Claudia was less flushed than she was the previous night. She looked for all intents and purposes like she was just sleeping deeply. He moved the cloth on her forehead aside to place the back of his hand to her forehead, her cheek, her neck. She was not as warm as she was before. Maybe they’d managed to get the antibiotics into her on time. He’d been a little aggressive with the dosage, but he didn’t want to take any chances.
“She looks much better, thanks to you,” Ezio’s smooth voice said behind him and Malik turned to look at him with a small smile.
“Another day might have been too late,” Malik admitted. Infections were no joke. He’d seen many a seemingly strong and healthy person succumb to nasty infections in the surgical wing.
“She woke up for a minute this morning. I managed to get the antibiotics and painkillers down her with some water before she went back to sleep. I was beginning to worry that she’d never wake up again.”
“She might just pull through,” Malik told him with a small smile. “Not sure when she’ll be able to walk any significant distance though.”
Ezio grimaced at this in understanding. They would be stuck there for a while. “Can we not convince you to stay for a little while? I would feel better knowing that you were around. In case something goes wrong…”
Stagnation is death, Malik reminded himself. What you want is not always what is smart. And not sticking around in one place to wait for the dead to catch up with them was what had kept them from joining them. “No, I’m sorry…” Malik said, and he meant it. “We need to keep moving.”
Ezio sighed with resignation, but nodded. He seemed like a smart enough guy. Malik knew that he understood. “Are you trying to get somewhere?”
“Nowhere in particular. Just, away. Hopefully we can find something secluded before winter sets in. Our uncle had a place on Hudson Bay in Québec… He was even more of a survival nut than our father. It would probably have whatever we needed to get by. He lived off-the-grid. A homesteader. It would be set up to operate without all the technology that we’re used to having. If we can get there… long journey by foot.”
“Maybe we could join you there one day,” Leonardo’s voice behind them made him jump.
Malik contemplated this for a moment. He didn’t really trust them yet, but there was something about them that made him think maybe it would be okay to share this with them. Something about Ezio’s calming, reassuring resolve and Leonardo’s open and cheerful demeanor. Hell, if they didn’t make it, maybe these guys would and could make use of the cabin. For all Malik knew the place was gone and they were marching to their deaths. He grabbed a book from a side table and wrote the address to his uncle’s cabin on it. He ripped the corner off and handed it to Ezio. “Maybe when Claudia is feeling better.”
In reality when they left they would probably never see each other again. The chances of any of them making it there were slim. Very slim. Impossible even. The odds were not in their favour. As if the journey was not perilous enough from starvation, dehydration, exposure, illness, predators… they had new predators to contend with now on top of it.
The meal they ate was a little more subdued than the one last night with their impending departure hovering over all of them. Kadar had tried to argue his case that they should stay a few more days, but Malik was not to be deterred. Even a few days would lead them closer to winter, and they would need every day they could get.
“So… Can we keep him?” Kadar asked quietly as they packed up the clothes that Leonardo had kindly washed for them.
“He’s not a pet,” Malik grumbled. He’d momentarily forgotten that departing meant they had to make a decision about Altair. Not that he’d offered to come with them. He hadn’t asked Ezio about staying either. The man had been suspiciously quiet for the rest of the morning.
Malik’s rational side said no. It was a bad idea. They did not know him. They knew nothing about him. And it would be harder to feed three people. But it would also mean three sets of eyes to keep watch. An extra set of capable hands if they got into a jam. Altair brought his own set of skills to their band of two. Kadar had told him how he’d tracked the car here, how he’d hotwired the truck they used, that he used to be a soldier. Malik thought back to this morning and how he’d made his brother laugh, pulling him away from the bleakness of their situation if just for a moment.
“He’d probably just follow us anyway. Might as well just put him to use,” Kadar reasoned with a grin. “Come on, Mal. Don’t make him follow us by himself again. I think he’s lonely.”
“We can’t take in every stray we come across,” Malik told his brother with a serious look. His eyes drifted over to the other man, sitting on the counter with his coffee cup in hand. He was watching Ezio and Leonardo fuss over Claudia, fingers tapping the body of the mug, looking like he was contemplating something. His eyes came back to settle on his brother and took in his bright, hopeful expression. Well, shit. “It’s up to him.”
“Yes!” Kadar grinned, “It’ll be great, I promise.”
They had left later into the morning than Malik would have liked, but he was determined not to get too comfortable with the Italians. It would only serve to make the separation harder, and Kadar’s pouting at having to leave was already enough on its own. The hike was a little noisier than usual with the new addition to their party. Kadar was relentless in his questions for the other man. Some questions Altair answered easily, others were carefully stepped around and deflected with a joke or vollying a question back onto his brother. For his part, Malik was quiet and observant, choosing to listen to the answers and only inserting a comment here and there when appropriate. Mostly he was just trying to be as vigilant as possible. The woods were a little thicker here and without clear lines of sight it wouldn’t take too much for something to sneak up on them.
The day was blissfully uneventful and as the shadows started to grow longer they decided to find some place to rest for the night. The wind had picked up, whipping leaves and dirt around them and Malik inhaled deeply. There was a certain smell in the air when rain was imminent. Petrichor, he'd heard it called. It was that kind of earthy, musty scent that always preceded a good downpour. Maybe they should have stayed another night after all.
After dinner, Kadar looked at Malik a little uncertainly as he unfolded the single tarp they carried with them. He strung it up in the trees over a particularly wide bough that they would use as a sleeping platform for the evening. Just high enough they would be able to sit up under it, but low enough that it should keep the rain off of them if it started blowing in sideways.
“Mal, there's no clouds…”
“Still going to rain,” Malik told him, continuing to prep for the evening. He unrolled both of their sleeping bags on the same bough and took out the paracord for later. They only had one tarp, so they'd be sleeping up there together tonight. He wondered what Altair planned to sleep in, or how. He contemplated asking, but the guy had left his pack with them and wandered off. Weirdo.
The sun had almost set when Malik climbed up the tree to their sleeping spot. He didn't bother extinguishing the small fire they'd made to cook. Firstly, because he felt it would rain soon. And secondly, because Altair had yet to return and he might need the light to find them. Maybe he was already dead. That didn't take long… Malik crawled into his sleeping bag and started tying himself securely to the branch as Kadar used his shoulders to climb around in front of him. He crawled into his own sleeping bag, leaning back against Malik and accepting the rope to tie himself in too.
“He's not back yet…” Kadar mumbled sadly. “Think he's okay? Should we look for him?”
“It's dark now. No sense in searching in the dark,” Malik replied softly. Kadar settled in between Malik's legs, sleeping bags overlapping as he rested his head against Malik's stomach and looked up at him with worried eyes. “He's a big boy, Kadar. I'm sure the idiot’s fine. Maybe he found somewhere else to sleep. Maybe he wanted some privacy. Who knows…”
He didn't really believe his own words though. Altair had left his pack with them. Whatever he was doing out there, however he planned to sleep, it was without any gear. Malik had hauled Altair’s pack up with their own so it wouldn't get wet. He felt uneasy as he lay there, and he could feel the tension practically radiating off of his brother. He lazily carded his fingers through Kadar’s hair in front of him, like he used to when they were younger to calm him down and eventually his brother drifted off to sleep.
Some time later the rain started as Malik had predicted. A great, torrential downpour. Hopefully, Altair had found shelter of some kind, for he was surely soaked through at this point otherwise. Malik was still awake. He was past being worried. Now he was just angry. What the hell was Altair doing? Where the fuck was he? Would they be finding his half devoured corpse in the morning when they resumed their journey north?
An hour or so later, a twig snapped and he looked down to see Altair standing under their tree. Completely soaked and looking like a drowned rat. His shivering was visible even from this height. Surely they taught soldiers how to avoid hypothermia and exposure. For example, do not spend prolonged time when it is already cold and windy out in wet clothes. Truly idiotic. Kadar had claimed he was smart, but Malik had yet to be convinced.
He sighed, “Are you coming up or do you prefer to freeze to death?”
Altair huffed out a shaky laugh and started climbing. He sat on the branch underneath them and wrapped his arms firmly around himself, knees drawn up and into his chest. Malik noted the way his body periodically jerked with another quiver and frowned.
“What were you doing?”
“S-scouting,” Altair stuttered out.
Stupid. Foolish. Malik shook his head at him. “You need to get out of those wet clothes. Do you have extras in your bag?”
Altair nodded, still shaking, and Malik reached over to where he'd tied all their bags up. It was hard to reach them from Kadar sleeping practically on top of him but he managed it somehow. He felt around in the guy’s pack until he felt fabric and pulled out another pair of pants and a sweater. He carefully handed them down to Altair and averted his gaze as he heard Altair attempting to change while balancing on a branch. Not an easy task to be sure.
When the movement ceased, he looked back down to see Altair had strewn his wet clothes over the branch to be dealt with later. He was still shivering though and he wasn't fully protected from the rain down there. Malik grumbled and sat up straight again, “Get up here before those get wet too. You can sit behind me.”
Altair stared at him for a minute, seemingly uncertain and then climbed up. It took him a lot longer than it should have and he seemed a little uncoordinated. When he settled with his back against the trunk of the tree, Malik noticed how pale he was and the frequency of his shivering.
“Fuck,” Malik growled out, digging in his pack for a protein bar. “Take your wet boots and socks off.”
“Why?”
“Just do it,” Malik told him, putting the food in his lap and then unzipping a side pocket to pull out a small, plastic covered square. He turned to grab Altair's boots from him, tying the laces together and attaching them to a clip on his bag and just tossed the socks down to the rest of Altair’s wet clothes. If they made it onto the branch, he didn't know or care. They were soaked anyway.
“Stick your legs in here.” He unzipped his sleeping bag a little, and waited for Altair to comply as he unwrapped the emergency thermal blanket from its package. He twisted as much as he could and draped the thing around Altair's shoulders, pulling it up over his wet hair. Altair was still just staring at him like he didn't understand why Malik was making a big deal out of it. “Legs. Now.”
“S-so bossy,” Altair teased, but he did finally slide his legs into the sleeping bag on either side of Malik's hips. His feet were like ice blocks and Malik grimaced at the unpleasant feeling of having them so close, zipping the sleeping bag up fully once more so Altair’s legs were inside up to his thighs.
“Eat this. Slowly.” He held the protein bar out to Altair. Altair didn't move to take it and when he opened his mouth (surely with some other smart ass remark), Malik cut him off. “Don't argue with me. I'll force feed you if I have to.”
The smirk reappeared, though it was slightly less convincing with his lips quivering like they were. Malik ripped the package open and passed it behind him, Altair accepted it with shaking fingers. While Altair chewed, Malik rubbed his calves and feet through the sleeping bag to try and get some warmth and feeling back into them. The wrapper of the protein bar fluttered past him down towards the ground and Malik turned to glare at the man behind him. “I said slowly. Are you incapable of listening?”
Altair shrugged in that infuriating way of his, and Malik sighed. He leaned back against Altair’s chest, pulling his arms around him and the thermal blanket along with it, tucking the ends into the sleeping bag to trap their body heat in an attempt to rewarm him. Altair tensed behind him, but Malik could care less if he was uncomfortable with the idea of snuggling up to another man. It was the best way to warm up, and Altair had been showing all the signs of mild hypothermia. He rubbed his hands along Altairs frigid forearms and hands. Up and down, up and down. He was tired and desperately wanted to go to sleep but it would have to wait until Altair was out of the danger zone.
He wasn't sure how long he rubbed the circulation back into Altair’s extremities. A long time it seemed like. At some point his head had dropped back against Altair’s shoulder in exhaustion, and his movements had become more languid as he fought to stay awake himself. He glanced up and over behind him to find Altair’s head tipped back against the tree trunk. He looked to be asleep, brows relaxed and lips slightly parted as he breathed deep and even. Malik felt Altair’s hands and noticed they were almost a reasonable temperature now. Kadar hadn't moved from where he was using Malik's thigh as a pillow. It would seem everyone got to have a good night's rest except him. So he supposed at least that hadn't changed.
Malik sighed and wrapped Altair’s arms around his torso more, pulling the sleeping bag up to cover his hands and Malik’s chest further. He should be fine come morning. Though there was no cure for reckless idiocy.
Only now that the medical crisis had passed did Malik realize that a complete stranger was wrapped around him and half sharing his sleeping bag. He was… comfortable. Too comfortable. Malik glanced over at Altair's sleeping face again and felt a familiar redness make its reappearance on his cheeks.
He shouldn’t have been comfortable, Malik couldn’t help thinking. Altair was still a stranger. Malik should be wary of him, and it was very trusting of him to consider sleeping so close to the man. What if he decided to cut his throat in his sleep or something? Altair made a soft grumbling sound and Malik watched as his eyebrows pinched together a little in his sleep before evening out again. He wondered what he was dreaming about for a moment. This was foolish. He looked away and settled back into Altair’s chest more, Altair’s arms tightened around him almost imperceptibly and Malik felt the corners of his lips pull up a little.
Well, might as well get some sleep. He would need all of his energy to properly give the idiot a verbal thrashing in the morning.
Malik felt movement underneath him and blinked his eyes open slowly. His brother was sitting outside of his sleeping bag, legs straddling either side of the wide bough they were resting on. The grin on his face was positively evil. Malik was about to question why when the warmth pressed against his back and the arms wrapped around him brought him back to how he had fallen asleep last night.
“Moooorning,” Kadar said, grin curling wickedly. Like the Grinch. “Never thought I’d wake up to this.”
“Uh-” Malik said slowly, trying to get his brain to switch on. One of the arms around him moved a little and he tilted his head back to look behind him and up into those same warm amber eyes. Altair was awake. And apparently had been sitting there quietly waiting for Malik to wake up. “Hi.” Hi?! Malik mentally cursed at how ridiculous he probably sounded. “I um… how are you feeling?”
“Good,” Altair replied simply, smiling down at him. Altair’s hands were resting on Malik’s stomach and his fingers spread out a little, slowly stretching out over Malik’s sweater. Malik resisted the urge to squirm under the feeling. “I haven’t slept that well in a long time.”
Malik looked away because he couldn’t look at those seemingly all-knowing eyes anymore and sat up straight abruptly. The arms around him fell away and he could feel Altair stretching behind him. Malik chanced a look up at his brother again and regretted it, Kadar still grinning from ear to ear.
“You were hypothermic,” Malik mumbled, running his fingers through his hair. And why did it sound like he was explaining himself? To both of them. Like he was guilty or something. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.” A pause and then he turned to glare at Altair over his shoulder. “Maybe not so smart to go for a walk in the rain for hours when it’s so damn cold out.”
“I found a path that should make the journey a little easier. Probably used by rangers,” Altair countered. “Better than cutting our way through the thick brush.”
“Yes, completely worth almost incapacitating yourself,” Malik shot back with a roll of his eyes.
“Should I leave for a bit?” Kadar asked teasingly, “So you can just get it out of your systems already?”
“Kadar,” Malik growled out in warning, but Altair laughed. It only made Malik more annoyed and embarrassed. He shouldn’t be embarrassed, he reasoned. He was just doing his job with what he had to work with. He would have done that for anyone last night. So why did it feel so intimate to wake up in Altair’s arms?
It was still raining hard enough that they would be soaked in an instant if they tried to move. They were going to be stuck here for a little while it seemed. Altair extricated himself from Malik’s sleeping bag and Malik was a little sad for the loss of warmth. It was a chilly morning and he felt lethargic and lazy. Altair climbed down to the branch below and stood on it with a hand braced against the tree trunk to relieve himself over the edge, back to the brothers.
“Guess we should have taken Ezio up on his offer,” Kadar said thoughtfully, looking out at the rain. “Probably would have been more comfortable in that warm cabin, rather than stuck up here on this hard ass branch.”
“There was no way that we could have known, and there’s no sense in worrying about it now.” Malik protested, digging into his bag to pull out some protein bars and dried fruits for ‘breakfast’. They had replenished their food stock from a little variety store that Leonardo had told them about in town before they had headed back out. He didn’t relish the thought of having to sit in the damn tree all day either. Hopefully the rain would let up and they could keep going. As it was, they would be sitting up here until it passed. Hiking in rain ponchos just didn’t cut it in this kind of downpour.
Altair had climbed back up in the interim and was sitting behind Malik again with his legs dangling over the side. Malik noted that his feet were still bare. “Put some socks on before you get cold again.”
“Is he always like this?” Altair asked Kadar with a laugh, but he was reaching into his bag to find a dry pair.
“Always,” Kadar agreed with a nod. “If Malik’s not giving you shit about something, he’s probably sick. Or asleep. Even then, he talks in his sleep sometimes.”
“Oh fuck you both,” Malik said sourly, shoving a protein bar at each of them and then ripping into his own irritably. So this was how it was going to be now? The two of them against Malik. He could see this getting old very quickly. He was just trying to look after them. Why did they make it seem like he was the unreasonable one?
“It comes from a place of love,” Kadar said fondly, making Altair laugh again. “He’s just a little abrupt about it. It’s his way.”
“Charming,” Altair agreed with a smirk.
“Shut up and eat your food.” Malik glared out at the misty forest, refusing to look at either of the traitors. If he chewed on his protein bar a little more aggressively than usual, so be it, he was annoyed.
They spent the rest of the day, huddled together with the emergency blanket draped over the three of them. Somehow Malik had ended up in the middle of this cuddle sandwich, Kadar pressed to his right side and Altair his left. They chatted about nothing and everything, about ninety five percent of which was provided by Kadar. And if they fell asleep that night in a similar position to how they had the night before, well Malik just reasoned it was because it was so damn cold out and apparently the fool behind him didn’t have a sleeping bag. And if he felt a little more relaxed and comfortable than he had on other nights, Malik reasoned again that it was just because he was tired from the tag team’s incessant chattering all day.
Chapter 4: Biters and Bullets
Notes:
Hey all! Sorry for the wait. There's been a lot going on. I've had this chapter for awhile, just needed some tweaking. I wrote 95% of it on my phone again, so I tried to edit as much as possible. If I missed anything, let me know.
A warning of sorts. I have tagged this story as 'chose not to warn', which as far as I know kind of gives writers carte blanche to do as they want. I usually don't like to put in too many warnings because I feel it ruins the surprise or suspense or whatever, but I don't want anyone getting upset. There will be major/minor character death in this story. There's a bit of it in this chapter, but there will be more. Again, it is a zombie apocalypse AU, so it should be expected to some degree, but there you have it. I hope I don't lose any readers because of it, but I understand that some people are more sensitive to that kind of thing, thus the warning.
Parts of this chapter are pretty 'action movie-y', suspend belief and just go with it. I wanted it to be kind of fun, don't overanalyze how much sense it makes :P It's just a fan fiction after all. This badass Altair scene is for you Inès, I know how much you love him doing crazy things <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“You know, as bad as those things are, at least they're predictable. It's the normal people that scare me.”
- Bill, The Last of Us
By about mid morning of the next day, they found themselves in a parking lot off the forest. The trail that Altair had previously found had sped up their journey considerably. There were two cars in the parking lot and about five zombies, two of which were younger than thirteen. Malik grimaced at the sight. He would never get used to that. Altair and Kadar had fallen silent beside him. They somberly put the zombies down and then lay them out beside each other. Another family taken as a casualty of this senseless virus. It could just as easily have been them, Malik thought.
Decency would have had them bury them, but practicality and survival had them thinking about moving on. There was not much room for humanity and soft hearts in this new world they found themselves in. At least they were at rest now. A small mercy.
Malik and Altair argued about the pros and cons of continuing on foot versus taking a vehicle. Kadar watched them from his seat on the hood of one of the cars, shaking his head with a small grin. In the end, Altair won the argument. Malik was outvoted by the man and his traitorous little brother. Once again he considered that this would probably not be the last time that this happened and no, he was not pouting about it.
He simmered in his displeasure in the passenger seat, studying the map in his lap, as Altair drove the truck. Kadar was stretched out in the backseat napping. Malik had been reluctant to get back into a car, much less drive down a highway but Altair had reasoned that they should try and take the truck as far as they could. They would cover far more distance and there weren’t too many large cities along the route.
It only took about an hour to reach the border, where it would likely have taken a day and a half on foot, with minimal complications. If anything it was going a little too smoothly for Malik. When they approached the port of entry, Altair slowed down, taking in the traffic jam of cars. This many cars meant there had once been lots of people. And lots of people, at least these days, meant the likelihood of lots of infected. Malik reached back to shake his brother awake so that they could formulate a plan.
“We’re not getting the car through. We’ll have to go on foot. We can find another car once we’re across,” Altair told them, glancing around at all the abandoned vehicles. It was too quiet. Had the occupants of the cars already wandered away? It had been almost two months already since things went to shit. It was possible. Still the undead never travelled too far on their own without something to chase.
“It’s too quiet,” Malik said, voicing his worries.
“I’ll scout ahead,” Altair told him, quietly opening the cab door even as Malik went to protest. And just like that he took off, creeping along the abandoned cars towards their destination.
“Idiot,” Malik grumbled. “We’re going to have to have a talk about taking off into unknown situations. Alone.”
“He’ll be fine,” Kadar told him, stretching his arms. “He’s not stupid. He’s made it this far on his own, he must have some idea how to keep away from them.”
“Maybe he’s just been lucky.”
“We could use lucky.” Kadar leaned between the seats to try and see where Altair had disappeared to.
Malik fiddled with a loose thread on his pants as they waited, never taking his eyes off their surroundings. It had been close to half an hour now. Maybe the bastard’s luck had finally run out. Maybe he was already dead and they were waiting here for nothing. They should have crossed at a less obvious point, where there were fewer buildings. Fewer possible infected. They should have gone further northeast and crossed through the forest. Malik’s mind went to every possible bad situation without his permission. Lifeless amber eyes as the undead gnawed on organs and flesh, strangers with bad intentions shooting Altair in the back, soldiers capturing a deserter and bringing their own brand of justice.
“There’s a car coming,” Kadar whispered, breaking Malik out of his panicked thoughts and they both ducked down.
An SUV with tinted windows stopped not far from them, they could hear several car doors opening. Fuck, where the hell was that idiot?! Malik almost jumped out of his skin when the driver’s side door opened quietly and Altair grabbed his wrist to get his attention.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Malik hissed, keeping his voice as quiet as possible.
Altair said nothing, instead motioned for them both to get out of the car. They stayed as low as possible as they inched out of the driver’s side door, pressing their backs to the body of the car as they listened to the new arrivals argue amongst themselves. There seemed to be a bunch of them.
“Do you think we lost them?
“No, they’ll find us if we stay here. How are we going to get through this mess?”
“Becca, how long?”
“How should I know? An hour, maybe?”
“Fuck. Why won’t they leave us alone?”
Malik flattened himself to the ground to look under the truck. He counted eight pairs of feet. A big group. They were certainly outnumbered. And no way to gauge their intentions.
“Well, we can’t just stay here and wait for them to catch up to us. We should cross ASAP and find another ride.”
“Oh sure, Antony. No problem. Let’s just easily find a working vehicle, with enough gas and enough seating for eight fucking people. Why don’t I just call us an Uber XL?”
“Don’t hear any fucking brilliant ideas coming from you, Shaun.”
“Enough! This isn’t helping. Let’s scout ahead. Don’t get separated. Keep your eyes peeled for the dead.”
The people walked off towards the abandoned cars and border crossing and Malik turned to look at Altair. “What did you find?”
“Maybe twenty infected, around the offices. We’re not getting through that way.”
“FUCK!” A yell from the distance, and then there was gunfire, loud and frequent.
“Unless…” Altair arched an eyebrow at the sound, standing up to look in the direction of the new people.
“Morons,” Malik groaned, “They’ll draw any infected from ten kilometers away.”
“If they’re keeping the dead busy, maybe we can sneak by.” Altair was already grabbing his pack from the bed of the truck and Kadar and Malik hurried to do the same.
“Shouldn’t we help them?” Kadar asked uneasily as the gunfire continued. “We can’t just use them as bait.”
“We don’t know them, Kadar,” Malik told him, but he unclipped his bow from his pack to hold in his hands anyway. Altair had a knife in his and Kadar sighed and did the same, sliding his own hunting knife out of its sheath at his belt. Armed and ready, Altair tilted his head indicating that they should follow him. It wasn’t easy to crouch with an eighty litre pack on your back, but somehow they managed it. They crept along, sticking to the far left of the vehicles. When they came up to a gap they would have to run through they paused. Seven of the strangers were in the middle of the street with various weapons drawn, one guy had a fucking katana… how the hell?
Their shooting needed work, several of them took several shots to take down their targets. Katana guy sliced clean through the middle of an infected’s head as a woman beside him threw an axe into the chest of another (which of course did nothing to slow it down). Destroy the brain or don’t even bother. Although a good knee-capping could buy you a bit of time.
“Antony?! Antony, where are you?” a dark-haired woman shouted, panicked as she shot another zombie closing in on her. “Get back here!”
Another guy stumbled out backwards between two cars with a cry of hysteria before stumbling over a concrete block and falling onto his back. Three zombies descended on him, even as the others tried to shoot them off. The all too familiar sound of ripping flesh made Malik wince, hearing Kadar’s breath hitch behind him.
“Now,” Altair whispered. They sprinted as fast as they could through the gap while the others were occupied with trying to save their friend. It was already too late from that first bite, but Malik did not begrudge them trying to keep the man from being ripped to pieces.
“Hey! Wait! Help us! Please!”
Malik felt his chest tighten with guilt. They were using these people’s lives as a distraction to ensure their own safety. It felt awful. The man’s screams only made it worse. Was this what it had come to? Them against everyone? It didn’t feel right. It probably never would.
“God damn it! Please don’t leave us!” More gunshots, more screaming.
“Don’t,” Altair hissed, grabbing Kadar by the forearm when he turned to go back once they’d cleared the gap. “Listen to Malik. We don’t know them. You can’t save everyone, Kadar.”
“They’re dying…”
This time a woman screamed amid the shouting and cursing and gunfire and Kadar ripped his arm out of Altair’s grip, dropping his pack and taking off.
“Kadar!”
“Damn it, kid!”
Malik was dropping his pack and grabbing his quiver even as the words left his lips. He heard Altair curse behind him, and soon they were both barreling forward to get around the cars. Kadar was removing his knife from a zombie on the ground as another reached for him. Malik drew back and shot it through the head, Altair running forward and pulling his brother out of the way to push his combat knife up and through the back of another’s skull.
He couldn’t be sure how long it took them to clear the rest of the undead. Too long probably. And more would be drawn to the noise. When the last one fell, they were all panting and exhausted, eyes darting around frantically for any stragglers.
“It’s okay, it’s okay… I’ve got you…” the dark haired woman said, crouching on the ground with the man that had fallen.
The others looked on silently with grim expressions. The man’s limbs looked like hamburger meat in the places where the infected had been feasting on him. His breathing was already ragged. Malik hated to see anyone suffer.
“You should say goodbye and put him out of his misery,” he said softly. “I’ve seen people turn. It’s… painful. And he’s already in a lot of pain.”
“Not that I don’t appreciate the help, but fuck you,” the woman hissed.
“Layla, he’s right…” the one with the katana said. “He’s suffering.”
“No.”
“Layla…”
“We should go,” Altair said to them, but his eyes were on Kadar. “We helped them like you wanted. Now we go.”
“But-” Kadar looked on with slumped shoulders. His brother had always been way too empathetic. He couldn’t stand to leave anyone in pain. In this new world it was a trait that was going to get him into trouble one day, Malik couldn’t help thinking. He didn’t want to strip his brother of the kindness that he had, but he would need to learn when it should be applied.
“Wait.” A dark haired man held his hand out, “Maybe we could work together to get through. There could be more.”
“We have enough friends,” Altair replied coldly, already shouldering his pack.
“A wonder how with that personality,” the British one grumbled, earning a look from the dark haired man. Altair ignored him, holding out Kadar’s pack to him with a pointed look. Malik carefully retrieved the few arrows that he used. He couldn’t afford to waste any.
“Layla, say goodbye… we have to go. They’re coming,” a blonde woman told her gently.
“I’m sorry Antony… We’ll miss you.”
The others were all exchanging looks, silently asking who was going to do it. It couldn’t be easy to kill your friend, even as a kindness. Malik took sympathy on them.
“I can do it. If you want. It will be over quickly.”
Seven pairs of stunned eyes turned to look at him and suddenly he wondered if it had been a good idea to offer after all. Then one by one they nodded. The blonde woman pried Layla away and Malik walked forward quietly, unclipping his knife from its sheath. The dark-haired woman wailed and buried her face in the blonde woman’s shoulder, and Malik swallowed hard. He knelt down beside the guy with a calm expression. The guy could barely keep his eyes open, blinking blearily at Malik. His hand came up and grabbed Malik's, making him falter for a minute.
“Th-thank you…”
“Rest now,” Malik told him, and then drew his blade across his throat in one swift motion. It didn’t take long for the life to leave his eyes and when it did Malik closed his eyes with two fingers. Holding the guy’s head gently with one hand he thrust his knife into his temple to prevent him from turning into one of the monsters that had taken his life. Everyone was silent when he got up and walked back over to Altair and Kadar, taking in their expressions. Kadar looked lost. Altair had a look of grim approval. Everyone knew it was the right choice.
They cautiously picked their way through the rest of the abandoned cars and through the border crossing. The others followed them quietly. There was nothing they could really do to prevent them from doing so. There was a collective sigh of gratitude when they didn’t run into many more of the dead. Just a few here and there which were easily dispatched by whoever was closest. On the other side, the cars had thinned out and Altair was already taking inventory.
“I’ll find us another ride,” he told Malik, dropping his pack down beside him. Malik watched him go for a moment before he took in the exhausted group of survivors. A few had gone off to do the same as Altair. Malik opted to search the offices for anything useful, unclipping his combat knife from its sheath.
“Stay here. Be careful,” he told Kadar with a look that told him not to fuck around.
He’d barely started looking through drawers when two guys came in with him to search as well. The dark-haired guy from before and the sarcastic Brit. He ignored them in favour of continuing his search. He came around a desk and almost tripped over a dead officer, kicking lightly at his foot to see if he would get up and try to eat them or not. Nothing. Upon closer inspection he noted the hole in the back of the guy’s head and the gun in his hands. Malik couldn’t say he blamed the guy, or that he hadn’t had similar thoughts himself at some point or another over the last few months.
Carefully he extracted the weapon from the guy’s hands, checking it over. It needed to be cleaned, but it looked to be in working order. He found a box of ammunition on the desk not far away and carefully reloaded the gun, before putting the extra ammunition in his pack. He put the safety on the pistol and shoved it into the pocket of his coat. He didn’t really care for firearms, but it would be useful as a last resort.
“Hey Shaun! Tea!” the dark-haired one said brightly, throwing a box at the Brit.
The ginger-haired man frowned at the box before rolling his eyes, “This should barely be considered tea, Des.” But Malik noted how he shoved it into his own bag with a small smile.
“Where are you guys headed?” This Des guy asked Malik as he rummaged through a cupboard.
Malik said nothing, continuing to search through desk drawers. There wasn’t much. He found some snacks and half a mickey of vodka that he stashed as well, because maybe they could use it for a molotov or for wound cleaning or something in an emergency.
“Chatty bunch, aren’t you?” the Brit scoffed.
“I don’t see the point in making small talk,” Malik shot back, unfastening the first aid box from the wall to look through its contents.
“I’m Desmond. That’s my boyfriend, Shaun. You and the kid brothers? You look similar enough," Desmond continued on, not at all deterred by Malik’s sullen expression.
“Yes,” he said simply, packing some antibiotic cream, medical tape and extra bandages into his already overfilled medical kit.
“We’re heading north. Maybe we could travel together for a bit?” Desmond offered with a smile. “You guys look like you can handle yourselves. And we don’t have many strong fighters in our group. Mostly academics…”
“You say that like it should be insulting,” Shaun groused, making Desmond laugh.
“It’s the end of the world, babe. Need people right now who can make a headshot not tell us the history of the french revolution.”
“Thank you, but we’re not interested in more travelling companions,” Malik told them, wondering if Altair had already found them a car and if he should just go.
“Well, maybe just-”
Desmond was cut off by the sound of screeching tires, loud voices and gunfire. The three of them immediately ducked as bullets came ripping through the windows of the little office. Malik looked through the open door to see the other survivors scrambling away, his brother among them. Shit. Fuck. What the hell was this now?! Hadn’t these people been talking about getting away from someone? Was this the someone? Why the fuck, in a world full of bigger problems, were people shooting at them?
“Come on out!” A rough voice shouted over what sounded like a megaphone. “Come out with your hands up. Surrender, and maybe we’ll let you live. Make us come in after you and we won’t be so generous.”
Desmond and Shaun were whispering frantically on the other side of the room, huddled together. Malik opted to look around for an escape route. The door they came in was not an option. It would be like a shooting gallery in the road in between the stations. There was a window at the back of the building that he made his way over to. He quickly opened it and shoved his pack through, before pulling a desk over to use as a ladder. A few more bullets ripped through the building and Malik threw himself onto the floor, waiting for the shooting to stop. When it did he vaulted up onto the desk and threw himself through the window, landing with a grunt and just rolling out of the way when Shaun landed behind him, followed by Desmond.
A border patrol SUV pulled up just beside them and the passenger side door swung open to reveal Altair. “Where’s Kadar?” he shouted at Malik as Desmond and Shaun crawled into the back seat without invitation. Malik shoved his pack at them and then quickly looked around, seeing his brother climb into another car with the other survivors. It took off quickly and Malik cursed as panic flooded through him.
Altair and Kadar’s packs were just to the side of the building, so he sprinted across and flipped one on to each shoulder, reaching out to grab Altair’s rifle from the side of the building. He was slowed by the weight of the packs, but adrenaline pushed him through as more bullets ripped through the middle of the two buildings and he heard men shouting and hurried footsteps. Another two packs were thrown into the back, Desmond grabbing them from him as Shaun muttered curses, before Malik climbed into the passenger seat with Altair’s rifle.
“Go! Go!” Malik urged, even as Altair was driving off. The back window shattered under the onslaught of incoming shots and they all ducked, Altair just barely so that he could keep his eyes on the road.
“Where the fuck are your friends going with my brother?” Malik shouted over the gunfire.
“We have a meet up spot. In case we got separated. Shaun, map.” Desmond grabbed the map from the Brit and handed it to Malik, who quickly looked it over for the starred spot on the road. The gunfire had subsided, so Malik took the opportunity to find out exactly what the hell they had gotten themselves into.
“Why are those people after you?” Malik asked, turning in his seat to look at the pair of men.
“Not after us. After the girls,” Desmond said with a grim expression. “Military guys. We were with them for a bit. A ‘safe zone’ out of Concord. It got overrun about a month back and we’ve been hopping around ever since. They made it pretty clear that us male civilians were expendable. When it became clear what they wanted the girls for, we snuck away. Been running from those bastards for the last few weeks. They just keep finding us.”
“Persistent,” Altair mumbled, looking in the rear view mirror and grabbing the map away from Malik to study it quickly for a moment or two before he took a sharp turn off onto a side road. Malik looked through the broken glass of the rear view to see a few cars on the horizon, coming from the crossing, just before they were out of sight from the turn. “Put your seatbelt on,” Altair growled at him, “Bad as your brother.”
Malik huffed in impatience but did as he was told. The road was less well maintained and bumpy as hell. And no saying what the hell they might run into out here. “How are we going to lose them? We can’t very well lead them right to the others.”
“I’ll shake them,” Altair said in a low voice that held more confidence than Malik was feeling at the moment.
“We can’t let them have the girls,” Shaun said adamantly. “And if they catch us… well, I have to assume there will be some interrogation. Don’t know about you lot, but I’m not sure I could withstand whatever measures they would deem necessary to extract their information.”
Malik did not relish the thought himself. Altair spent half the time staring at the road and half the time checking the rear view for the pursuers. Some twenty minutes later of following the back roads, and still being pursued, he cursed and unbuckled his seat belt. “Malik, switch with me.”
“How? The car is moving!” But he was already unbuckling his seatbelt. Carefully while Altair sort of held himself up by the steering wheel, Malik slid his legs under him to get a foot on the gas pedal and then through some awkward maneuvering they switched places. The car swerved a few times but they managed to keep it on the road. Altair was already messing around with his sniper rifle while Malik tried to keep his eyes in front of them, somewhat unsuccessfully. “You think you’re going to make a shot from a moving car?”
“Just keep the damn thing as straight as you can,” Altair grumbled at him, climbing into the back seat between Desmond and Shaun and shoving their packs at the two protesting men. “Might want to cover your ears,” he told them, leaning the rifle against the back of the seat to point out the rear view window.
“Fuck, fuck…” How could the day have descended into such chaos so quickly? Maybe they should have stayed an extra day with the Italians after all. So as not to get involved with this bullshit. And this was exactly why Malik had preferred just the company of his brother. And the quiet of the forest. People in the new world were fucking crazy.
“Steady,” Altair mumbled again, making some adjustments on the rifle. Malik glanced in the rear view mirror to see Shaun and Desmond with their hands over their ears, looking between Altair and the back window nervously. He heard the long breath that Altair let out and then the echo of the gunshot which was indeed incredibly loud contained within the vehicle. They were met with the sound of screeching tires and Malik glanced into the rear view mirror in time to see one of the cars flip off the side of the road.
“Holy shit,” Desmond cried, looking behind them in disbelief. “How did you do that?”
“Practice,” Altair said evenly, even as he prepared his next shot. Before another shot could be taken, the car was peppered again with more gunfire and everyone swore and ducked. He heard a sharp grunt behind him and felt his stomach drop. Did somebody get shot? That was not a good sound.
“Altair?”
“Keep it straight,” he grumbled again. And then another loud bang, more screeching tires, and Altair was climbing back into the passenger seat. “Should slow them down.”
“You’re a soldier,” Shaun said suspiciously from the back seat. “No civilian is making shots like that.”
“Was.”
“Shaun, give the guy a break. He just made two impossible shots to keep those fuckers off our asses. Just be happy he's in this car and not theirs.”
“Altair?” Malik asked again, taking a second to look over at him. His jaw was tight like he was gritting his teeth and when Malik reached over and grabbed his shoulder to look at his right side, he groaned in pain. “Were you hit?”
“I’m fine. Keep driving.”
“How bad?” Malik asked, taking another turn down a side road to get them back towards the main one now that their pursuers were sufficiently slowed down.
“I’ll live. Probably. Just keep driving.”
“We’re going to have to stop somewhere along the way.” Malik wasn’t about to let the guy bleed out beside him. Nobody protested, so Malik took that to mean that they were okay with it. “How long will your friends wait at that location?”
“Couple days. We agreed if no one makes it in forty eight hours that we would just keep going.”
“Okay.” Malik’s fingers clenched on the steering wheel. His brother was off somewhere with strangers. Altair had been shot. There were psychotic military guys after them. This day just continued to be one unpleasant surprise after another. What next?
He drove another twenty minutes before they came across a subdivision. He might have driven them further away from their pursuers, but he had no idea how bad Altair’s gunshot was and he wasn’t about to risk it. Malik drove to the end of it and pulled the car around the back of the house and out of view of the road, cutting the engine and looking around. No obvious threats. The back door to the house was open. Maybe whoever had lived here had already run off. Or stumbled off. “Gonna do a quick sweep,” he told Altair, who just nodded against the window he was leaning on. “Desmond, with me. Shaun, keep an eye out for him please.”
“Wait a minute-” Shaun started to protest again, but Desmond just shook his head.
It seemed they finally had run into some luck, because there was no one in the house. No people. No infected. Malik breathed out a sigh of relief, but they were far from out of the woods. “Cover the windows with whatever you can. It’s going to be dark soon. And we don’t want anyone to see the lights.”
Instructions relayed he went back to the car to grab the other two. He told Shaun to bring his bag and then carefully helped Altair out of the passenger side. The door had a veritable waterfall of blood on it that made him frown at Altair’s pale and drawn face. “Should have told me it was more than just a graze. Idiot.”
“You would have tried to stop sooner,” Altair replied with a weak grin, leaning heavily against him.
It was true, but still. When he got Altair into the house, he plopped him into one of the kitchen chairs and then went about clearing off the kitchen table. Desmond had lit a bunch of candles that he’d found, but that wasn’t going to be enough light to repair a bullet wound with. Malik sent Shaun to look for flashlights or anything they could use. He managed to come back with a camping light and two small flashlights. It would have to do. There was a sheet on the table, water boiling on the gas stove and his medical kit laid out on a chair beside the table. Now all he needed was the patient.
“Take these.” Malik shoved two of the morphine tablets at the man who looked at them suspiciously before downing them with a grimace. “Drink this.” He handed Altair the mickey of vodka, which he downed half of without much prompting. Taking his clothes off was a slower ordeal, and when they got down to his t-shirt, Malik declared it a lost cause and just cut him out of it. If he was a little distracted by all the warm coloured skin and defined musculature underneath, he didn’t dwell on it for too long. “Okay, lay down. Shaun, you hand me what I need. Desmond, try to keep the light steady. Ready?”
“You know what you’re doing?” Desmond asked cautiously.
“Yes,” Malik responded shortly. He didn’t elaborate. They did not have time for pleasantries.
Altair just nodded grimly. It was going to hurt like hell. Malik shoved the balled up t-shirt into his mouth to muffle the sound and sighed heavily. The bullet was lodged in his upper shoulder and in a tricky place, but it hadn’t nicked anything vital. He did need to open the wound more to get at it and Altair’s muffled yelling made it hard to concentrate. Even still, Malik worked as quickly as possible. The sooner he finished, the sooner he could let the man rest. At some point Altair’s agonized groaning stopped, and Malik glanced over Altair’s face to see that he’d passed out. He instructed Shaun to remove the shirt from his mouth and kept working, thankful for the small things.
When he finally started stitching up the wound, the others seemed to deem it okay to finally speak. “You a doctor?” Desmond asked quietly.
“Surgical resident,” Malik replied, not pausing for a second as he focused on keeping his stitches neat. Though judging by all the pale scars he could see in various places of Altair’s torso, one more scar wouldn't be such a big deal. Still, he could try to minimize this one as best he could. He was no plastic surgeon, but he’d always had neat stitches.
“Kind of invaluable now. He’s lucky you were here.”
“Yeah, real lucky,” Malik grumbled. So lucky that they’d run into these idiots. So lucky that they’d been chased and shot at when they could have been quietly continuing on their way unhindered. They could have been quietly eating dinner just the three of them right about now. Instead they were separated, injured, and-
“I’m sorry you guys had to get involved.”
Malik looked up to see the sincere apology on the guy’s face, but it was hard to really accept it just then. Instead, Malik focused on getting the wound properly bandaged and keeping his thoughts to himself. His eyes kept drifting up to Altair’s face. He looked younger without the ever present closed-off stoicness he usually sported in between his smirks for Malik and easy smiles for Kadar. Malik wondered how old he was. Surprisingly his age had never come up with Kadar’s endless litany of questions.
Kadar. He hoped he was okay. He hoped that they had served as a sufficient distraction to let the others get away. If anything happened to him- No. Malik wasn’t going to think about that. It would be alright. They would get to the rendez-vous point tomorrow and they would go their separate ways, and everything would be fine. It had to be.
“Are you two together?” Desmond asked curiously and Malik’s eyes snapped up to the other man. He hadn’t realized that he had been staring at Altair. Malik willed himself not to blush and shook his head.
“No. He’s just been travelling with us for a little while.”
“Hmm,” Desmond replied with a bit of a small smile. “I just thought- Nah, nevermind.”
“What?” Malik snapped impatiently, gathering up all the bloody things to be disposed of and tossing his surgical instruments into a bowl to clean.
“Just seems like there’s something there,” Desmond mumbled, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know you guys or anything, just kind of something in the way you look at each other.”
“Stop being nosy, Des,” Shaun told him, like a reprimand.
“I’m not! Just saying,” Desmond grumbled back, but shot Shaun a fond smile.
“There’s nothing there. I don’t even know him.”
Malik turned away from them to go to the kitchen sink. Thankfully the water was still working. He scrubbed Altair’s blood from his hands, feeling sort of thrown. He hadn’t stopped to examine how he might feel about Altair, he didn’t need a couple of strangers trying to figure it out for him. He wasn’t about to sit here and do it himself either. They didn’t have time for… feelings. It was the end of the world. They had more important things to contend with. Like fucking zombies. And crazy fucking military guys. Apparently.
“He’s pretty good-looking. When he doesn’t have that grim expression on his face,” Desmond persisted, making Malik roll his eyes even though Desmond couldn’t see it.
“Don’t tell me you’re leaving me after all this time for some stupidly handsome badass,” Shaun teased, making Desmond laugh. “He was kind of incredible today.”
“Seriously,” Desmond agreed, “I can’t believe he made those shots. Glad he’s on our side.”
He’s not on your side. Malik thought, still scrubbing the blood out from under his nails. His hands were a little red from the excessive washing. Maybe he was trying to distract himself a little too hard.
“If the water’s working, I’m going to take a shower,” Desmond said when Malik didn’t respond. “Do you still need us?”
“No. You’re good,” Malik told him, turning around to lean against the counter, and folding his arms over his chest.
“I’m going to go with him,” Shaun said with a bit of a smirk, seeing an answering one appear on Desmond’s face. “Should probably conserve water and all that. Apocalypse and all…”
“Mmhmm.” Was all Malik managed as the two men walked off to the staircase that led upstairs. He wasn’t entirely sure how anyone could think about sex after what they’d just experienced. But then near death experiences did tend to get the adrenaline flowing, so maybe he couldn’t entirely blame them.
In the silence that had descended on the kitchen, Malik walked back over to Altair and studied his face. Some of his hair had fallen into his eyes and Malik lightly pushed it away with his fingers. He was good-looking, like Desmond had said, but Malik already knew that. Altair had an annoying habit of flirting with Malik. It frustrated him because he didn’t think Altair actually meant any of it. It was just his personality. He’d probably flirt with just about anyone that was near. Though never with Kadar. Whether that was because he expected Malik to hit him if he tried or not, Malik wasn’t really sure. But he did expect that if there were others in their group Altair would probably flirt with them too. Malik wasn’t of particular interest to him, he figured, just an easy form of entertainment.
The man never seemed to take anything too seriously. Well, except combat. Then he was extremely serious. It was probably the soldier in him. Malik had spent enough time around soldiers from living on military bases with their father not to know how they were. All jokes until it was time for action. Altair did not seem to be an exception to this.
Malik stood there contemplating the man in front of him for probably longer than he meant to. He was considering if they should move Altair to a bed to be more comfortable when the man in question made a soft groan and his eyes fluttered open. He went to sit up and hissed in pain, Malik quickly put a hand on his other shoulder to prevent him from moving further.
“Take it easy,” Malik told him softly. Altair’s eyes settled on him and he couldn’t help the flip-flop feeling that occurred in his stomach. Those eyes were something else. They always made him feel weirdly exposed, like Altair could tell exactly what he was thinking just by looking at him. “How are you feeling?”
“Fucking great,” Altair grumbled and let out a long, frustrated breath. “Did you get it out?”
“Of course,” Malik told him. He frowned when Altair made to sit up again. Malik was going to argue with him to rest, but he knew that it was futile. So instead he helped Altair into a sitting position on the table and grabbed a bottle of water, opening it and passing it to him. Altair drank the whole thing and then threw his legs over the side of the table, sliding off and promptly almost falling on his face. Malik was quick to get his arms around Altair’s waist and keep him upright, having Altair mostly just slump into his chest.
“You’re going to be a little groggy from the dilaudid,” Malik told him, helping Altair straighten up. He kept his hands on his waist just to be sure he didn’t fall over again. “A little dizzy probably. Let’s get you to bed. You need to rest. You lost a lot of blood and we don’t exactly have a way of replenishing it quickly.”
“Let’s, hm?” Altair mused, leaning in to Malik a little. Whether intentionally or not, Malik wasn’t sure, but his arm slid a little more securely around Altair’s waist. “Are you inviting yourself into my bed?”
“I’m inviting to help you get into one so you don’t face plant onto the floor, idiot.”
“But you’re such a good cuddler,” Altair replied smoothly, the usual lop-sided grin making an appearance. “I’ve gotten used to our sleeping arrangements. Might be lonely without you there to keep me warm. It’s just good patient care.”
Malik let out an exasperated sigh as he helped Altair down the hallway and into another bedroom. Desmond and Shaun had yet to come down from their ‘shower’, Malik could only assume that they’d fallen asleep somewhere upstairs from the lack of noise, so this bedroom would probably be fine. He helped Altair sit on the end of the bed and then he bent down to unlace his boots, tugging them off and choosing to ignore the way that Altair was watching him. Again with this pointless flirting. It was maddening. Malik was not amused by it at all.
“Alright, get in,” Malik said, pulling the covers back and helping Altair get his legs under before folding the blanket back over. He went over to double check that the window was locked and properly covered while Altair situated himself and then made to leave. “Get some sleep.”
“You’re leaving?”
Malik stopped at the door and took a minute before he turned around, “Someone has to stay up and keep watch, and those two aren’t about to do it.”
Altair went to open his mouth and Malik cut him off before whatever he was going to say could make Malik feel even more awkward. “Just try and rest. We’ll head out in the morning.”
And with that he closed the door and made his way back out to the kitchen, slumping into a chair with a heavy sigh. Now that he was sitting, the exhaustion and stress of the day settled in heavily and he put his elbows on the table to cover his face with his hands. Another sleepless night of worrying on the horizon, Malik thought. There was no time to feel sorry for himself, so instead he got up and searched the kitchen until he found some instant coffee and put the kettle on. It was going to be a long night.
Notes:
If you guys have any favourite quotes from zombie media (books, games, movies, manga, whatever), I'd love to hear them! I have a list going of ones that I want to use and try to make them relevant to the chapters if I can, but if you have any that you really like and they relate I'd love to use them!
Chapter 5: Coffee and Comfort
Notes:
Obligatory 'I know nothing about the military'. It's just a stupid story.
A little peek into Altair's mind. The first one, I think? I don't think I've done his POV yet in this story. So I hope you enjoy.
Also, I was laughing to myself because I think this story is the third time that I've shot Altair. I need to stop shooting the poor guy. Altair! I'm sorry! Stop doing heroic shit, you dummy.
And if you can, please leave me a comment and let me know what you think! Being greeted by silence after an update is killing me, and it keeps happening, and my anxiety screams 'they hate it. it was bad'. So yeah, I would appreciate it. Not begging for comments, but I'm getting close ^.^;
Chapter Text
“Survival is the key word to remember—not victory, not conquest, just survival.”
- Max Brooks, The Zombie Survival Guide
“Come in, Eagle One.”
“This is Eagle One, go ahead,” Rauf said into his radio.
Altair was scoping out the north from their watch tower. It had been a fairly quiet night, all things considered. He’d barely taken out any of these ‘infected’ from this new virus. Maybe five all evening. Altair had started feeling a prickle of apprehension creep up on him over the last hour. Trying to snipe slow moving targets in the dark would normally be easy, but it wasn’t like dead people showed up on thermals. Rauf was indispensable. Altair’s eyes were good, but Rauf was next level. It was why he was the best damn spotter in the whole squad. Altair would be lost without him. They’d been nearly inseparable since boot. Done tours together.
Rauf was his best friend. His unshakeable, comforting moral compass. The only person who ever really understood him. Rauf was always there with an easy laugh or some sage piece of advice and honestly, Altair didn’t know how he ever got along in life without him. He was an attractive guy and they’d traded awkward hand jobs once after a mission, coming down from the adrenaline. They’d sort of laughed it off and agreed that they were better off as friends. As it turned out, Rauf was a great wingman and so Altair didn’t suffer too much for lack of company. Now here they were, called in to help defend this damn base from infected civilians in what was looking like an increasingly unwinnable kind of situation.
It seemed like a joke at first. Really, zombies? He’d thought his CO was kidding. But then they looked at the footage and the reports coming in from all over, and they had all fallen into line pretty damn quick. They weren’t fast, these things. They walked like they didn’t have a care in the world, which he supposed they didn’t anymore. It really should have been easy to deal with them. No, it wasn’t their speed. It was the number. People were turning faster than they could be dealt with. And the amount of time between point of infection and conversion seemed to vary wildly. Some people died and came back within a few minutes. Others took hours. And they didn’t stop. They didn’t need rest. Injuries did not slow them. They just kept coming. Nothing short of a headshot would stop their advance. And no amount of consumption would curb their hunger.
They were both running on little sleep. Altair was ready for a long nap after their shift. They were due for replacement in about half an hour and he was looking forward to finally eating and getting some shut eye. That was until the call. He had a bad feeling about it, even when Rauf responded.
“Eagle Three is not responding. We need a sit rep. Do you have a visual from your position?”
“Stand by, Alpha One.” Rauf responded, turning his attention to the east with his scope. “Oh fuck…”
Rauf was usually unflappable and Altair knew immediately from the tone of his voice that things must be bad. He turned his rifle to look over at the other tower with Rauf and felt his stomach drop out. How were there so many? How had they not warned them about this? Where the hell was Eagle Three?
“Alpha One, I- East tower is compromised. Incoming infected. No visual on Eagle Three.” Rauf shook his head, dropping all pretense. “Fuck, there’s gotta be at least a hundred.”
“Repeat, Eagle One. A h-hundred?”
“Affirmative. Get the fuck out of there. Fence is already bending.”
“Copy. Regroup at rally point November Oscar Romeo Five. Good luck, Alpha One out.”
“You too, man. See you soon.” Rauf called back over the radio, and then turned back to Altair with a grim but resolute expression. “I guess we’re going on a trip.”
“What the fuck were those assholes doing?!” Altair growled, already collapsing his rifle mount and gathering up his things. “How the hell do you let that many get that close without some kind of warning?”
“I don’t know, man,” Rauf replied somberly, “But I’m not sticking around to find out. Let’s get to a car before they leave us behind.”
They made their way down the tower and jogged into the parking lot in time to see soldiers scrambling every which way. A few of the trucks were already pulling out, laden with soldiers and military personnel in the back. They managed to climb into the back of a different truck just as they heard a resounding crash from the back of the base. The fence was down and the dead were pouring in. There were muzzle flashes and the rapid tak-a-tak-a-tak of automatic weapons being fired by the remaining soldiers who had yet to get to this side of the base.
The truck pulled away and Altair and Rauf watched as the undead overwhelmed the remaining soldiers in seemingly no time at all. There were explosions from grenades as last ditch attempts were made to clear them, and now the base was just a smoking pile of death in the distance.
“This is so fucked up,” Rauf mumbled beside him, looking shaken. It was so unlike him that it had the added effect of unnerving Altair as well. Looking around the back of the truck at all the other soldiers, the feeling of hopelessness was palpable. This couldn’t be it, surely. The whole world taken down by a virus. It just couldn’t end like this. There had to be something to do, someplace they could go…
Altair was abruptly snatched from his thoughts as the truck came to a screeching halt. The soldiers all launched out of their seats by sheer force were now mumbling in disquiet looking around. And then he heard it. The sounds of moaning, snarling undead. And by the volume of it there were quite a few. The truck wasn’t moving. It wasn’t backing up. What- A scream from the front of the truck and Altair knew exactly why they weren’t moving.
“Fuck. Out, now!” Altair yelled, hopping out of the back of the truck with his rifle and jogging back enough to take in what was happening. The others followed him and Altair felt his shoulders drop in utter disbelief at the sheer number of fucking biters blocking the road. They must have come from the city. It was the only explanation for so many of them. They didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of taking this many down.
“Oh God. We’re all gonna die,” some private yelled, before just taking off in a random direction.
He was followed by others and soon there were just a few of them, the more veteran soldiers, trying to think of a logical way out of their predicament. Trained to remain calm in the face of a horrible situation and just think things through.
“We’ll head north,” Altair grumbled, “We need to get away from the major cities.”
“Roger that,” one guy said, looking pale but steady.
“Move out,” Rauf mumbled with one last shake of his head at the literal wall of undead walking towards them.
At least they’re slow, Altair thought as the six of them started jogging.
The sound of the horde behind them got quieter the more distance they put between them, and they found themselves slowing to a brisk walk as they entered a smaller town. Some buildings were on fire. There was screaming and people running in the streets. It was chaos, simply put.
“Maybe we can find a vehicle,” Rauf offered, looking around.
“Fan out,” Altair ordered, not sure when he fell into the role of de facto leader but no one else seemed to be stepping up and he and Rauf looked to be the oldest and most experienced among them. “Look for a working car, that’s not on fucking fire. Stay frosty.”
The others nodded and disappeared, leaving just him and Rauf. Altair shouldered his rifle, slinging the strap around him and pulled out his service pistol. A sniper rifle would do him no good in these close quarters. The streets were relatively narrow and he felt instantly claustrophobic. There was no room to react in a place like this. Being a sniper, he didn’t like close combat. He could do it, if he had to. He was trained for every possible situation, but it didn’t mean that he liked it. The sense of unease within him grew further.
“Holding up okay?” Rauf asked him, and Altair couldn't help but laugh. Really Rauf?
“Fuckin’ dandy,” Altair replied with a grin, and then a little more seriously. “We’ll get through this. It can’t end like this. It just… can’t.”
“Some things are beyond our control,” Rauf told him, eyes sharp as he led the way through a side alley. “We just need to keep going. We can’t give up.”
“I know,” Altair agreed, gun at the ready.
There was a blood-curdling scream from the street behind them and they both turned abruptly towards it, guns at the ready and looking for the immediate threat. One of the others probably, Altair thought grimly. He only took one step in the direction of the scream before there was another one behind him.
What he saw when he turned around instantly turned his blood cold. Rauf. Trying to wrestle off a woman who was quite literally ripping his throat out. Altair fired a shot into her brain without hesitation, but it was too late and they both knew it.
Rauf slumped to the ground along with the zombie and Altair was at his side in an instant, pressing his hands to the wound.
“Stay with me, buddy,” Altair told him frantically, pulling a bandana out of his pocket and pressing it to the gash. There was too much blood. It soaked through almost instantly. “Fuck. I-Rauf don’t do this to me, man. I can’t.”
“You can,” Rauf rasped, struggling to breathe. “If anyone can-”
“No. Fuck you. You’re not going to die. You can’t.” Altair could feel his eyes prickling, but there was no time for crying. Not when Rauf needed him. “Rauf, please.”
“Go.” Rauf pushed at him weakly and Altair looked up to see more zombies shuffling their way down the alley towards them. “You’ve got this, A. I love you, man.”
“Rauf…”
Altair looked back at his friend, but he was already gone, eyes blank and staring.
Altair awoke with a start, gasping for breath and soaked in a cold sweat. Sitting up abruptly, brought a searing pain to his shoulder and he groaned, bringing a hand up to press gingerly against it. Oh right, he got shot yesterday. Fucking perfect.
The room was pitch black and he felt slightly disoriented, taking a minute to figure out where the fuck he was exactly. Slowly, things came back into place. They were in a house. They were resting here because he’d gone and gotten himself injured. He wondered what time it was. The house was silent. Walking over to the window, Altair pulled the blinds back a little to look outside noting that it was still totally dark out. He wouldn’t be getting back to sleep, he knew that much. Fucking nightmares.
He was still exhausted and sore and a little nauseous, but he shuffled his way out of the room and followed the flickering light down the hallway into the kitchen. The candles were all still burning, and there at the table sat Malik. A cup of coffee in front of him, feet up on the table as he read a book propped open in his lap. He looked half dead. So stubborn.
“You should get some sleep,” Altair told him from the doorway.
Malik jumped and almost fell out of his chair, the book clattered to the floor and he looked up at Altair with a glare. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“I can see that,” Altair responded easily, sitting in the chair across from him before leaning forward and stealing Malik’s cup of coffee. “My point stands. You’re too tired to make a very good lookout.”
“I’m fine,” Malik protested, watching Altair drink his coffee with resignation. He got up and put the kettle back on. “You shouldn’t be up. You need to rest.”
“I don’t need a lot of sleep to run on.”
“You might think that’s true normally, although I don’t believe it, but you lost a lot of blood yesterday. People don’t just recover from that with a few hours of sleep.” Malik crossed his arms over his chest and fixed him with his best ‘i’m a doctor and you need to listen to me’ look. Altair was becoming intimately familiar with it. Malik should also be familiar with the fact that Altair was not intimidated by him. Malik wasn’t the only stubborn one in this kitchen. “You’re not superman. You need rest.”
“I’m a quick healer,” Altair sipped at the lukewarm coffee, before giving Malik a grin.
The grin made Malik frown harder and Altair had to keep himself from laughing. This guy was just way too easy to get worked up. It brought him no small amount of pleasure.
“It would be really great if you would just stop trying to kill yourself,” Malik shot back, “Or do you think somehow that your life is so easily thrown away.”
“My life is no more important than anyone else’s.”
After all, who was he? Just a soldier. A regular man. He was nobody important. He had no purpose anymore. Although that wasn’t entirely true now. He seemed to have found one again in making sure the two brothers were safe and taken care of. Somehow he thought this answer would make Malik uncomfortable though. Or more angry. He was incredibly attractive when he was angry, and Altair couldn’t put his finger on why exactly that was. Something to do with that intensity that burned in his eyes when he got all fired up over something. Hm. It just did things for Altair.
“You’re an idiot. And you’re going to get yourself killed. You’re reckless with your life. Kadar’s going to be gutted when your luck runs out and I’m going to have to pick up the pieces. He seems to think the sun shines out of your ass and I don’t have the heart to tell him that his hero is fucking suicidal.”
Altair couldn’t help but laugh. Such vitriol.
“He’s a good kid,” Altair conceded, leaning his uninjured arm on the table to rest his chin in his hand and look at Malik contemplatively, “Won’t you miss me too?”
“No.”
Malik turned away to take the kettle off the stove before it could start screaming and fixed another cup of coffee, marching over to snatch his old cup from in front of Altair and refill it as well. Altair couldn’t help but think that he protested the notion a little too much.
“You need to stop with the excessive flirting. We have more important things to worry about than getting laid. Like the fact that dead people are literally hunting us.”
Altair tilted his head to the side questioningly, “We’re not dead yet. Just because it’s the end of the world, doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy ourselves.”
“You-” Malik held his hands up and then gripped his hands into fists like he’d momentarily been considering strangling him. Altair felt another smile coming on. If only Malik would let him help him relax. It must be difficult being so tightly wound all the time. Well, not all the time. He’d seen that Malik was capable of not being so uptight. It was like a challenge that Altair was determined to overcome. “You’re so fucking arrogant.”
“I prefer to think of it as being confident,” Altair countered, lightly rolling his shoulder when a twinge of pain shot through it.
The movement did not escape Malik’s notice (like anything ever could) and the anger seemed to dissolve from his stupidly handsome face in an instant. Doctor mode activated.
“You shouldn’t be moving it so much. I should make you a sling.” Malik was already looking around the room, and Altair couldn’t help but have a little whiplash from how quickly Malik could go from spouting insults into caregiver mode. He cast an overly fond look at Malik’s back before he could help himself and had to scramble to even out his expression when Malik turned around. He must have looked strange because immediately Malik was suspicious. “What’s wrong? Do you feel sick? Dilaudid can give you nausea. And you’re not normally supposed to mix it with alcohol, but I figured you’re not normally supposed to perform surgery without anesthesia either so it couldn’t hurt.”
“You’re something,” Altair told him with a laugh. “Do you ever just… stop? You must be exhausted. Worrying about everyone else constantly. Don’t you ever think of yourself?”
“No.”
Yeah, Altair believed that. Incredible.
“This will work,” Malik said, mostly to himself as he raided the hall closet and came back with a sheet. He grabbed a pair of scissors and started cutting. Altair watched with interest as Malik performed surgery on the cloth, sipping his coffee. Malik was like some kind of beautiful and brilliant MacGyver. Altair could admit to himself that he was totally gone for the guy. He probably was even before he spoke to him that first time. There was just something about him. And it didn’t hurt that he was stunning to look at. He probably had looked even better before all this shit went down. He’d lost so much weight, even since Altair had first started following the two of them. It was a shame.
Malik was staring at him, having paused in his sling-crafting and Altair realized belatedly that it was because he was staring at him first. Shit.
“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Malik asked him with a raised eyebrow.
“Never better,” Altair replied, busying himself with another sip of coffee.
Malik eyed him suspiciously again, like he didn’t quite believe him and then went back to his cutting. It didn’t take long before he was coming over to Altair’s side. “Let your shoulder relax, and hold your arm like, yeah like that.” He wrapped the fabric around it and then around Altair’s neck, adjusting it here and there. “How’s that? Is your arm comfortable?”
“As comfortable as it’s going to be.”
“Smart ass,” Malik said with exasperation, but it almost sounded warm. Progress.
“I can keep watch,” Altair told him again, noting the darkness under Malik’s eyes from this close. “I won’t be going back to sleep any time soon. I promise I’ll wake you if anything comes looking for us. Not like I’m much good right now.”
Malik leaned against the table and watched him for a moment. “Why not?”
“Why not, what?”
“Why won’t you be going back to sleep?”
Altair shifted a little in his chair and averted his gaze to anything but those intense brown eyes that seemed to be trying to figure him out just then. “Just don’t sleep very well.”
“That’s vague.”
Altair shrugged his shoulder, the uninjured one. He would have crossed his arms, but that was impossible right now. He didn’t want to talk about this. He ventured a glance back up to see Malik’s eyes narrowed at him, but then they eased into a more neutral expression.
“Fine. Don’t tell me.”
“So you’ll sleep?”
“No.”
“Fuck. Are you always so stubborn?”
“Yes.”
Altair shook his head. The man was impossible. It was like bashing your head against a brick wall and expecting it not to hurt. He wished Kadar were here to talk some sense into him. Malik couldn’t keep running on fumes like this. It was going to take its toll sooner or later. He hoped the kid was okay. If something happened to him, he wasn’t sure what Malik would do. Probably burn the world the rest of the way to the ground.
“Can you read to me?” Altair asked quietly.
“What?” It seemed like it was Malik’s turn to be confused by the abrupt turn in their conversation. Altair gave him a small smile.
“I’m bored. I can’t turn the pages easily.” I like listening to you speak.
Malik sort of chewed on the inside of his cheek, like he was seriously contemplating saying no and then he sighed. “Fine. What do you want to listen to?”
“What were you reading before?”
“Slaughterhouse-Five,” Malik told him with a shrug, taking his previous seat and grabbing the book. “There aren’t many options in this house. Have you read it?”
“A long time ago. Can we relocate somewhere more comfortable?”
Malik was back to looking at him suspiciously and Altair gave him his most innocent look. He nodded his head towards the living room, not ten steps away from them.
“Couch is better than these hard kitchen chairs,” he reasoned. It did nothing to erase the look. He didn’t wait for Malik to come around to the idea, just got up with his coffee and moved over to the couch. He eased himself into a corner and put his feet up on the cushions, looking expectantly over the back of the couch at Malik.
Malik shook his head, but grabbed his own coffee and his book and made his way over. He looked down at where Altair’s legs were resting on the couch and back over at the man attached to them with a raised eyebrow. Altair just shrugged again, making him wince, but he lifted his feet a little so that Malik could have a seat before promptly putting them back on Malik’s thighs. So what? He liked to stretch out. He was tall. And if this was the only way he got to have contact with Malik then he had to take what he could get, didn’t he?
Malik settled in, not outwardly bothered by the arrangement and started reading. Altair sipped his coffee some more, reclining a bit further which pushed his calves further along Malik until he was laid out flat on the couch. He folded his uninjured arm behind his head and closed his eyes to listen. Malik’s voice was like the best audiobook. All rich and deep and soothing. People said they could listen to someone with an attractive voice read a phone book, and Altair was inclined to agree. He would listen to Malik recite anything. The content didn’t matter, it was all about the tone of his voice.
“Are you asleep?” Malik asked a little while later.
“Nope. Still listening,” Altair mumbled quietly. “Continue.”
“Oh, thank you for your permission.”
Altair grinned, eyes still closed and sighed contentedly as he settled further into the cushions. He listened to the misadventures of Billy Pilgrim and Malik’s smooth voice and felt more relaxed than he had any right to be with a gunshot wound in his shoulder and zombies likely lurking right outside their window. And if he fell asleep to that perfect voice, well who could really blame him?
“Look at how cute they are. And he’s trying to deny that anything’s going on there. Please.”
“Shut up, Des. You’ll wake them up. I’m sure they had a long night.”
“Yeah. Long night of making eyes at each other and pretending they don’t want to jump each other’s bones.”
“Honestly-”
Altair blinked his eyes open and looked down the couch at where Malik was slumped into the corner, book open on his chest, totally dead to the world. Finally. All it took was Altair bullying him into a comfortable place and getting him to do something so monotonous as to read to him for hours until he could finally shut that damn brain off and succumb to his obvious exhaustion.
“Can you two morons keep it down? He needs to sleep.”
The two men turned and looked at him sharply. The redhead elbowed the dark haired one in the ribs. “See? Look what you’ve done. Bloody menace.”
“Him? What about you? You’re the one who got shot.”
“He doesn’t sleep much. Don’t ruin the beautiful moment, please,” Altair whispered back, glaring daggers. They better not wake Malik up or Altair’s vengeance would be swift and merciless, injured or not.
“Let’s check if there’s food,” Desmond said instead, shoving Shaun away from them. But not before shaking his head at Altair. He heard something like ‘gone for each other, I told you’ whispered as they left. Altair was awake now, but he didn’t bother to move from where he was resting. He was comfortable. And Malik looked comfortable. And peaceful. And that was no small thing. He wasn’t about to disturb him.
There was a loud smash in the kitchen and Malik sat bolt upright, launching the book off of him and staring wide. Altair growled in annoyance as he sat up and looked over the back of the couch where Shaun was completely still and wide-eyed and Desmond was shooting them both an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”
“Christ. You’re so clumsy, Des.”
“I didn’t mean to…”
“What time is it?” Malik mumbled tiredly, scrubbing his hand over his eyes.
“Early,” Shaun replied from the kitchen. “We should get on the road as soon as the sun is up.”
“Shouldn’t-a fallen asleep,” Malik looked over at Altair, clearly still half asleep despite the abruptness of his awakening.
“You needed it,” Altair said seriously, reluctantly taking his legs back from their resting place on Malik. “I told them not to wake you.” He raised his voice a little on this, so the guys in the kitchen could hear it too.
“I said I was sorry!” Desmond protested.
“Yes, well-” Shaun began, when there was a thump on the window.
Four heads turned to the noise and they all seemed to collectively hold their breaths. Another thump. And then at the door there was a bang, followed by more thumping. The steady sound of moans and groans started to become audible and Altair gritted his teeth.
“Shit.”
“Yes. Shit,” Malik agreed with a sigh. “Let’s see how many there are.”
Shaun pulled back the blind a little to look out and then immediately stepped back, looking pale.
“Lots.”
“How many is lots?” Altair inquired with a frown, standing up from the couch.
“Enough that we’ll have trouble getting out of here.”
“Where did they come from?” Desmond wondered out loud. “We didn’t see any on the way in?”
“I expect they were wandering around the neighbourhood. All it takes is one noise to draw them,” Malik explained, looking like he was considering a plan.
“Maybe we can draw them to the front, so we can go out back and get in the car without too many issues,” Altair offered.
“And how do you propose we do that exactly?”
“A distraction?”
They both turned and looked at the other two men and Desmond’s eyes went wide just as Shaun frowned deeply.
“And why in the bloody fuck are you looking at us like that?”
“You just seem very good at making noise already,” Altair shot back with a grin. And then he pointed to his arm with a pout. “I’m injured.”
Desmond sighed, patting Shaun on the arm. “It’s fine. We can do it.”
“Alright,” Malik agreed with a nod, even as Shaun looked ready to protest again. “Here’s what we’re going to do.”
Chapter 6: Safety First
Notes:
Hey all! Sorry for the long delay. It's been like a month. I had finals. And then it was the holidays. And then I got sick with the plague. Well, I am still sick with the plague, because colds like to migrate to my lungs every time I get sick. In any case, thank you for your patience. And thank you for your lovely comments! Again, I really do appreciate them all. Even the short and sweet ones.
I hope everyone that celebrates winter holidays had good ones, and wishing everyone a happy new year! <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
”Oh, no. No, see-see, this is a really shit idea. You know why? Because it's really obviously a shit idea.”
- Jim, 28 Days Later
Well, it wasn’t exactly a great plan. But it was a plan.
Malik couldn’t help but hope that it would be enough to get them through this mess, and get them safely away from this neighbourhood. One challenge at a time. One day at a time. It was the only way to think about things these days. If you got too far ahead of yourself it was all too easy to get lost in the details and get hung up on the fact that maybe things hadn’t worked out the way you had planned them. And let’s be real, Malik thought, no part of the past couple of months was going according to how he thought they would. Right now the plan was simple. Get out of this house. Get to the car. Get to Kadar. The rest could be changed on the fly, and it probably would be.
Desmond and Shaun gave them a nod, and headed off upstairs. They would try to draw the undead to the front of the house from the upper level, where it should be reasonably safe. When it was clear, Altair and Malik would get the car and back it up closer to the house. Desmond and Shaun could jump down onto the roof of the car from the second level. And then they could get the hell out of here. It was simple. Hopefully effective. The dead were somewhat predictable at least. Make noise, the dead follow. The unknown was always just how many there were and where they would pop out of.
“Now we wait,” Malik said quietly, glancing out the window where he had pulled the curtain back a little to inspect the rear garden. There were maybe ten undead in the backyard right now, shuffling around their getaway car aimlessly.
Shaun and Desmond were shouting and banging at the window upstairs now, and Malik watched as they all turned towards the noise. They growled and moaned and started shuffling off in search of the new distraction. Malik felt his shoulders relax a little as he let out a long breath. “It’s working. Get ready. We should be able to-mmph.”
When he turned his head to address Altair, he found himself pressed up against the wall beside the back door. Altair’s lips were warm and insistent against his, and the kiss somehow managed to be both soft and confident. Malik was probably too surprised to kiss back, but had his brain been functioning it might have supplied that it was a good kiss. It could have been great if he were an active participant. Altair’s lips moved against his for another moment, and then he was pulling back all too soon with that infuriating grin on his face.
“Just in case,” Altair told him, before pressing another quick peck to the downturned corner of Malik’s mouth.
“You-”
“Yeah, yeah. I am frustrating, careless, aggravating, idiotic, whatever else you want to throw at me. Save it for later.”
Malik shut his mouth, pressing it into a thin line of irritation. It was… true. He probably would have called him all those things, but he also didn’t really have time to think about insulting the idiot. Or to think too much about what had just happened because they had to move. Taking a deep breath, Malik looked out the window again and saw the last of the visible zombies shuffle around the corner of the house. The banging from upstairs was joined by the steady thump of undead hands on the front door and front windows of the house behind them. There was probably quite the crowd gathered there now. It wouldn’t be long before they broke a window and got in.
“Let’s go,” Altair whispered, opening the door and creeping out towards the SUV. With the broken back window from their earlier gunfight they would need to ensure that they weren’t still for too long. No need to give their undead stalkers easy access to a tinned meal. “You’ll have to drive.”
“No shit,” Malik muttered back, earning him another quirked grin from Altair. He resisted rolling his eyes at the other man. He would be less restless when they were on the road and headed towards his little brother. And there would be no calm until they were all together again.
Malik threw his pack in the back with the rest of their bags and then they quietly climbed into the car and shut the doors as silently as possible with a soft click. Alright, Malik thought, so far so good. No unexpected appearances. Altair fumbled with his seatbelt, and then turned to look at Malik with a very serious expression and a raised eyebrow.
“It’s funny to me,” Malik started as he put his own seatbelt on. “That for someone who is as reckless and impulsive as you are, that you should care so much about safety.”
“There’s nothing funny about getting thrown through a windshield,” Altair replied seriously, but then he smiled and opened his mouth to add more. “Especially when-”
Altair cut himself off abruptly as they both heard the crunch of glass behind them in the back of the car. They both turned at the same time, already reaching for weapons, only to be confronted with a gun being pointed at them.
“Don’t move or I’ll blow your fucking heads off,” the man growled at them from the back of the car. “Don’t even think about pulling out those weapons.” He crawled carefully over the back of the seating until he sat behind them, never taking his eyes off of them and never lowering his gun. When he was seated, he pointed the gun to the side of Altair’s head. “Start the car. We’re leaving. No funny business or he’s dead.”
Malik stared at the man for a moment, trying to think of a way out of this. It wasn’t looking good, that much was obvious. The man was in bloodied military fatigues. A long gash across the side of his head, various small scrapes and cuts marred his face. Perhaps one of the men that had been following them. Maybe he’d sustained the wounds when Altair had taken out the driver of their car. In any case, it didn’t matter where he came from because he was still here and holding them hostage.
“Our friends,” Malik began, swallowing unsteadily. “We can’t just leave them.”
“Don’t much care about your friends,” the man replied, shoving the end of the pistol more roughly against Altair’s head and making him growl in irritation. “Start the fucking car and drive.”
What choice did he have? Malik was going to have to hope that the house held a little while longer, and that Desmond and Shaun could keep themselves safe. They had the map. They were the only way that he was going to find Kadar again. He turned the key, started the engine of the car and pulled the car around the house. A quick glance in the rearview mirror before he turned the corner of the house showed him Shaun and Desmond standing on the roof of the second level and looking utterly devastated by their apparent betrayal. As he pulled onto the road, he could see the small horde of creatures that had assembled at the front of the house. Thirty maybe? Definitely not easily dispatched by two men. Malik felt a surge of panic. Just stay up high. Stay out of reach. We’ll come back for you. Don’t do anything stupid.
“Where are the others?” the man asked, when they were driving through the neighbourhood.
“What others?” Altair grumbled, earning himself a sharp smack in the head from the other guy.
“You know who I’m talking about. The others. The women. I know the rest of my squad will have found them by now. And I’m not getting left behind again. You’re going to take me to them. I know you have a meet up place somewhere.”
“Some squad,” Altair snorted, “Leavin’ men behind. Trying to kidnap civvies. Wanting to rape women. Cowardly. Disgusting. You’re a disgrace.”
“What the fuck would you know about it?” the man snarled, and then something seemed to click into place. “It was you. The sniper. You killed Washington and Rodriguez. You’re military.”
“Was.”
“Was, hm? Going to lecture me on abandoning men? You hypocritical piece of shit.”
“Not the one who was abandoned, POG.”
“Ain’t no POG, you jumped up-”
“Probably skating by, completely useless. It’s no wonder they left you behind. Fucking liability out here.”
“Shut your damn mouth!” the soldier yelled, making Malik’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. What the fuck was Altair thinking, trying to rile this guy up? Malik risked a glance over to see Altair looking at him out of the corner of his eye. He nodded minutely and flicked his eyes down to the end of the street at the steel barrier that blocked it, where the road split on either side.
“Remember, what I’m always telling you two about safety,” Altair told him. Yeah. Seatbelts. Malik nodded, catching on to what he was saying. It wasn’t the best plan that he’d ever heard, but it was a plan.
“What the hell are you telling him?” the man in the back asked suspiciously. “What are you-”
“Fuck,” Malik mumbled, stepping fully on the gas pedal to bring the car up to speed.
“Stop!” the soldier yelled, pointing the gun instead at Malik’s head. “Slow down! Stop the-”
Malik managed to look over at Altair just before the car slammed into the steel barrier, an exchanged look of anticipation and fear. He heard the sickening crunch of metal and the shattering of glass and then there was nothing but darkness.
Altair groaned at the ringing in his ears, the blood was already rushing into his head from hanging upside down. And there was pain, lots of pain. Not just from his shoulder, but across his chest and in his head and well, just about everywhere. He absently wondered if he’d broken some ribs. Still, the seatbelt had done its job. The airbag had done the rest. Being upside down was disorienting and he sort of shook himself out of his thoughts to take stock of the situation.
He turned his head to look over at Malik only to find him hanging limp and bloodied in the driver’s seat. The airbag in front of him was spattered with fresh blood. Altair’s heart stuttered in his chest as he tried to reach for him, but couldn’t quite manage it as a hot flash of pain shot through his chest.
“Malik,” Altair called out, voice a little strangled. “Mal?”
There was no answer and Altair felt his heart rate pick up further. If he’d killed him, he would never forgive himself. But they had to do something. That soldier would have killed them for sure when he got what he wanted. The soldier. Altair’s eyes noted the rather large, jagged hole in the windshield and the blood around the edges. And this is what he was always trying to say about seatbelts.
Shifting around, Altair fumbled to reach for the seatbelt release, and when he finally succeeded he crumpled to the roof of the car with another groan of pain. He crawled through the broken glass and debris on his knees until he was in front of Malik, pressing his free hand to Malik’s cheek. His nose was dripping blood and he had a long gash on his cheek.
“Mal?” Altair tried again, feeling an increasing feeling of panic. “Mal, wake up.”
When there was still no response, Altair brought his fingers to Malik’s pulse point and was immediately relieved to find the soft thrum of his beating heart. Alive. Thank fuck. Now to just cut him out and find another car to go back and get the other two idiots. Altair was fumbling with the clip of his knife holster when he heard a scream just outside the car.
Altair flattened himself to the roof of the car to look out the shattered windshield. Through the wisps of smoke escaping from the engine, he could see the mangled body of the soldier on the ground outside. There were three infected crouched around him and already tearing into his limbs. The guy’s head was bent at an odd angle so that he was looking Altair’s way but there was no mistaking the slow blink. The bastard was still alive. Somehow.
“Kill me,” the soldier said in a gurgle of blood. Altair blinked back at the man, holding the eye contact even as he heard the tearing sound of flesh and the frenzied groans of the dead as they enjoyed their meal. “Please,” the man said again, “Kill me. Soldier to soldier. You owe me this.”
“I owe you nothing,” Altair said evenly, coldly. “Rot in hell you piece of shit.”
“No,” the man groaned, “Please. I’m sorry. Kill me.”
“No,” Altair replied, finally turning away and taking his knife out again.
He very pointedly tuned out the sounds behind him and set to work at cutting Malik out of his seatbelt. Growing frustrated with only using one hand, Altair cut through the sling around his neck. It would hurt to use his arm, but he didn’t see any other way. It was difficult, but he managed to slow Malik’s fall better than his own. At least he didn’t let him hit his head any harder.
“Wake up, Mal. Come on,” Altair mumbled, smoothing blood-soaked sticky hair out of Malik’s eyes.
His attention shifted when a hand tugged on his sleeve, dragging his injured arm over towards the front of the car. One of the zombies had stuck its arm through the hole in the windshield and was trying to drag his forearm over to its mouth, snarling and snapping its teeth. The soldier’s blood was all over its face and painted it bright red.
“Fuck.” He’d been hoping the soldier would provide a longer distraction for their unwanted guests. He ripped his arm out of its grasp with a sharp hiss of a breath and then jabbed his knife through one of its eyes, angling it up and into the skull cavity. The zombie dropped and he retrieved his knife, just in time for another to start pulling Malik’s leg through the driver’s side window. “No, no, no…”
The zombie made to bite down on his calf when a stick pushed itself through the thing’s head with a loud squelch of sound that both unsettled and pleased Altair. Who-
“You guys alive in there?”
Altair released a long breath, letting his eyes slide shut in relief for a moment. He had no idea how they had managed it, but he wasn’t about to turn down a bit of help.
“Yeah, alive. Malik’s knocked out though. Help me out of here so that we can get him out,” Altair called out.
“Door’s buggered,” a familiar British drawl sounded on his other side. “Going to have to crawl through the window.”
“Great.” Altair smoothed a hand across Malik’s cheek again. “We’ll get you out. Hold tight.” He shimmied on his back until his head was out of the passenger side window and then attempted to wiggle out. Shaun’s hands came down to grip under his arms, helping to drag him out. Altair groaned in pain as the motion pulled on his injured shoulder, but this was no time to feel sorry for himself. When he was out, he looked around at the carnage of their flipped vehicle and the debris littered around them. “Someone should find a car while the others get Malik out. We shouldn’t stick around. The noise-”
“Already found one, didn’t we?” Shaun scoffed. “After you abandoned us, we had to find our own way out. Didn’t think we’d just sit there and make ourselves available to be fed on, did you?”
“We didn’t abandon you,” Altair growled, “That dickhead took us hostage. We were gonna come back.”
“Oh right, well-”
“Can it, babe. We don’t have time for this,” Desmond called out, voice heavy with exasperation. “Why don’t you haul the bags up to the other car? Altair and I will get Malik out.”
“There were three…”
“What are you on about?” Shaun mumbled.
“Shit!”
Shaun and Altair both turned to see Desmond get wrestled to the ground by the infected that Altair had forgotten about. They both rushed around the car, but it would seem that Desmond had it handled, putting a knife up through the bottom of its jaw and into its head. The corpse fell onto him and he let out a long, slow sigh of relief.
“A little help?”
Maybe these two were not so useless after all.
Fifteen minutes later found them safely stowed in the minivan that Shaun and Desmond had found. Shaun drove, Desmond was playing the navigator, and Altair was in the backseat with Malik. Altair flipped through Malik’s medical kit, pulling things out haphazardly, when he had what he needed he unbuckled himself to kneel beside Malik’s seat and set about cleaning him up.
“I saw the soldier. Where did he come from?” Desmond asked, looking back at the two of them.
“No idea.” Altair poured some water on to a clean cloth and started carefully wiping all the blood off Malik’s face so that he could see what he was doing. “We got in the car, like we planned. He must have been out there waiting for us. Climbed in through the back window, held a gun to my head and told him to drive. So he drove.”
“I don’t know why they won’t fuck off and leave us alone.”
“What else have they got to do?” Altair replied evenly, dabbing at the gash in Malik’s cheek. “It’s probably fun for them. Sick fucks.”
Desmond shuttered. “How’s the doc?”
“Battered to shit,” Altair mumbled, feeling guilty. He grabbed a bottle of peroxide and poured some onto a square of gauze before holding it back to Malik’s cheek. “Alive though. He’s tough. He’ll make it.”
“You guys are crazy,” Desmond said with a laugh. “Whose idea was it to launch yourselves at a barricade? We heard the crash from two streets over, followed the smoke from the engine to find you in that ditch.”
“Only way. That guy would have killed us eventually. It was him or us.”
“Yeah. Just like it was you guys or us. I’m starting to see a pattern,” Shaun grumbled from the front. Altair turned to see the man glaring at him in the rearview mirror.
“We would have come back, like I said.” Altair pulled out a box of butterfly closures and started applying them to Malik’s cheek. It didn’t look deep enough for stitches, which was all well and good because Altair didn’t know the first thing about suturing. These would do though, to keep the wound closed until it healed. He shook his head a little at the sheer number of things that Malik had managed to pack into his kit. It was like a hospital storeroom. Everything you could imagine.
“Don’t suppose either of you know how to set a broken nose?” Altair asked, carefully running a finger along the crooked bridge of Malik’s nose. It was already starting to swell, and still bleeding a little. He brought the gauze back up to stem the flow with a sigh.
“Nope. We can ask him when he wakes up.”
“If he wakes up,” the British bastard piped up, making Altair turn to glare at him before he resettled back into his seat and buckled himself back in. It was all that he could do for Malik for now.
“He’ll wake up.” He has to.
“Shaun,” Desmond protested with another resigned sigh. “Stop riling him up. They didn’t abandon us. Not willingly.”
“You’re too forgiving, Des.”
“No, he’s just not stupid,” Altair muttered darkly back.
“Listen, you-”
“Let’s play the quiet game now,” Desmond cut in with another sigh, hitting play on the van’s outdated CD player and enveloping the interior with the upbeat electronic sounds of Lady Gaga.
Altair pressed a hand to his face in aggravation, and then let it flop back into his lap. He rolled his head to the side to take in Malik’s sleeping, bruised face and let out a long, slow breath. It was going to be a very long drive.
Two hours of driving later, Altair decided that he never wanted to hear another fucking Lady Gaga song ever again. He was also horrified that Desmond seemed to know all the words to her songs. The Canadian highways were surprisingly empty and they only had to detour around a few collisions on their way to the meeting point. All in all it was pretty smooth sailing.
Altair tried not to let the dull throb of worry in his chest get to him too much. Malik had still not moved a muscle. Still just as lifeless and limp as he had been when Altair had cut him out of his seat. What if the airbag didn't deploy in time? What if he was bleeding into his brain or it was swelling in his skull right now? Altair still didn’t think he’d ever be able to forgive himself if he had killed him. It was a stupid plan. If he’d given Malik a minute to think, he probably would have come up with something better. Something less negligent. Something that wouldn’t have resulted in this. Why had he gone along with it? Malik should have known better.
“There it is,” Desmond pointed to the sign for the shopping complex. “Next exit.”
“They better be there,” Altair growled, “Malik will kill us all if he doesn’t get back to his brother soon.”
“He’ll have to wake up first.”
“What’s your fucking problem? We’ve covered this already. It’s your fault those assholes came after us in the first place. If anyone should be apologizing, it’s you guys.”
“Let’s not play the blame game,” Desmond intervened, holding his hands up. “We’re all alive. We’ll be with the others soon. We can formulate some kind of game plan. Fighting is helping no one. Please. Just stop. Both of you.”
They settled into a slowly simmering silence of unsaid animosity as Shaun guided the car towards their destination. The car pulled into the parking lot of the outdoor shopping complex. Only a few cars were parked there. For the life of him, Altair couldn’t remember what kind of car the other group had pulled away in. Shaun turned the engine off. Nobody moved.
“You sure this is it?” Altair asked, looking around. “How do we know they’re here?”
“Only one way to find out,” Desmond mumbled, getting out of the car and stretching his back.
The double front doors of one of the shop’s opened and Kadar came barreling out of it, followed closely by a blonde woman and… was that that Italian guy?
“Malik!”
Altair sighed heavily and opened the backdoor of the van, wincing a little when Kadar collided with him in a big hug.
“Altair!” Kadar smiled widely at him as he stepped back, but then his brows knitted together. “You look like shit. What the hell happened to you? Where’s M-”
He cut himself off when he turned and saw his brother in the backseat.
“He’s still out,” Altair started, feeling a fresh wave of guilt. “We ran into some trouble.”
The blonde woman had wrapped an arm around Shaun’s shoulders, frowning at the two of them. “We assumed you got delayed when you didn’t show up last night. At least, we hoped it was just a delay.”
“Desmond! Grazie a Dio!”
Ezio walked up and folded Desmond in a tight hug, thumping him on the back. Confused, Altair turned back to look at Kadar.
“Apparently they are cousins. Small world, right?” Kadar attempted a smile, but it was not up to his usual level of cheerfulness. “They decided to come after us. They must have missed the military guys. It was a good thing they did. A bullet hit something in the engine and we stalled on the highway. Ezio’s family happened to drive by and find us.”
“We should get inside,” the blonde woman said, “We can stay the night again here and make a plan.”
“Yeah,” Kadar agreed, still staring at Malik.
“I’ll help you bring him in,” Ezio said with a small smile for Altair. Altair eyed him suspiciously. “I owe Malik for saving Claudia’s life after all.”
“He saved Claudia?” Desmond asked, glancing back at Malik with a newfound respect.
“Yes. I owe him a life debt.”
“No need to be so dramatic, Ezio,” Kadar cut in with a small laugh, going around to the other side of the van to extricate his brother.
“Be careful with his neck. And his ribs,” Altair warned, feeling an odd sense of protectiveness. He would prefer to move Malik himself, but he knew that that wasn’t going to happen. Not with his shoulder and his own ribs being the mess that they were.
“We’ll get the bags,” Desmond said beside him, making him jump a little. Desmond tilted his head towards the car, looking at Shaun who was muttering curses and grumbling about not being a bellhop. Altair stood there feeling entirely useless.
They managed to get everything and everyone inside the grocery store. It had been thoroughly looted, but there were still some things on the shelves. They made their way through the aisles and into the back of the store where the employee area was. Several makeshift beds had been set up, and Ezio and Kadar deposited Malik onto Kadar’s sleeping bag.
Kadar smoothed a hand through his brother’s hair with a frown before looking up at Altair. “So what happened?”
“Which time?” Altair asked with a grim smile. At Kadar’s ‘don’t fuck with me’ look, Altair sighed and sat down on the floor beside Malik. He started at the beginning and told Kadar how they were chased, how he had been shot, that they stayed in the house overnight and were taken hostage in the morning. He told him how Malik had gone along with his idea to rid themselves of their captor. “And that’s it really…”
“Busy twenty four hours for you guys,” Ezio laughed from behind him. Altair hadn’t realized that he’d still been hovering. “Well, you’re never boring are you?”
“Guess not,” Altair agreed sullenly.
Kadar was examining Malik’s face with another frown, sliding his fingers over his nose. He reached forward with both hands on either side of his nose and then there was a sharp crack that made Altair wince.
“Better to do it while he’s out,” Kadar mumbled.
“He teach you that?”
“Kind of,” Kadar smoothed the hair off Malik’s forehead. “Never did it for anyone else before. Malik’s fixed my nose a few times. I used to get beat up a lot.” At Altair’s increased frown Kadar gave him a small smile. “It was a long time ago. Kids are assholes. You do this?”
Altair followed his gaze down to Malik’s cheek, where the butterfly fixtures were holding the skin together nicely. Altair nodded, feeling a little self-conscious. He only had basic medical training, same as any soldier.
“It’s good,” Kadar nodded appreciatively. “He’d be proud of you.”
“I doubt that,” Altair mumbled, frowning again as his eyebrows pulled down. “It was my idea. I don’t know why he went along with it.”
“He trusts you.”
Altair’s eyes snapped up from Malik’s sleeping features to look at Kadar. He had that same soft smile on his face that Altair had come to appreciate. He was a good kid. He hoped whoever had bullied the kid in school had gotten eaten by the zombies. Slowly and painfully.
“You’re into him, right?”
“Uh, I’ll go see what Leonardo is doing,” Ezio said awkwardly, waving goodbye and beating a hasty retreat. Kadar smiled at his back before turning back to look at Altair with a raised eyebrow.
“What’s it to you, kid?”
“He won’t make it easy for you.” Kadar picked up his brother’s hand and held it between two of his own. “He never lets himself have anything that he wants. Always been headstrong like that. Everyone else comes first. Be nice to know that there was someone else looking out for him.”
“Not doing a very good job, am I?” Altair whispered, but he let his hand cover Malik’s other hand that was not currently in possession of his brother.
“I don’t know about that,” Kadar turned to grin at him. “You’ve kept him alive. In several life-or-death situations, by the sound of it. He’ll probably never thank you for it. Too proud. But I will. So, thank you.”
Altair swallowed hard. “You can thank me if he wakes up.”
“He will. Malik’s too stubborn to die.”
In spite of the stressful day that he’d had, Altair couldn’t help but smile. It was hard to hold on to hope some days, but Kadar seemed to have enough for both of them.
Notes:
Now kith! I made it six whole chapters without having them kiss. I think that's a new record! XD
Chapter 7: Clean Up, Aisle Four. And Six.
Notes:
Hola! An update at last. I hope that you enjoy it, my lovely readers. This one is sort of an interlude in between any major plot elements, but I think it's neat. I have started taking medication for ADHD, so I'm curious about how this will affect my writing (and obviously my daily life). I know, I know... there's no way that someone with like 10+ unfinished stories that they are working on simultaneously has ADHD. Madness, surely.
To reflect that madness, this chapter has three separate POVs. One for each of my children.
Thanks as always to those that left me comments or kudos. You rock, don't ever change <3
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
”As Mr. Sloan always says, there is no "I" in team, but there is an "I" in pie. And there's an "I" in meat pie. Anagram of meat is team... I don't know what he's talking about.”
- Shaun, Shaun of the Dead
“We’ve already been here too long. They’re going to find us.”
“They’re not going to find us. Calm down.”
“You calm down! I’m perfectly fucking calm. We need to go.”
“We can’t go. That Malik guy is still out. Layla’s sick. Just a few more days and maybe they’ll get better.”
“And if they don’t get better? We. Can’t. Stay. Here.”
“It’s rude to eavesdrop.”
Kadar almost jumped out of his skin, turning to find Altair leaning against the wall behind him. Altair had a perfectly neutral expression on his face as he stared Kadar down, apparently waiting for some kind of response. Kadar wasn’t really sure what to say, especially when his heart was trying to make a run for it. He may have been hiding behind a shelving unit and listening to the other group try and make a plan. And it may have been without their knowledge. But Kadar had always been good at reading people, and he could tell that they were getting restless. It was also pretty clear to him that the three of them didn’t really factor into their plans. The only one who had been arguing in their defence was Desmond. Maybe spending a few days with Malik and Altair had endeared them to the man. Kadar couldn’t really imagine in what world a few days would be enough time for that to happen, given their personalities, but he was thankful for it all the same.
“Just gathering information,” Kadar whispered back, turning back to the little meeting that they had not been invited to.
“Anything interesting?”
Kadar grimaced, “They want to leave.”
He turned back to look at Altair in time to see his jaw clench, his cheek twitching under the tension. Just a tiny tell of his displeasure with that idea. Yeah, Kadar had always been a good judge of character. He had yet to regret convincing his brother to take Altair with them after all. Just look at what an asset he’d become. It was nice to have someone so firmly in their corner. And it was kind of cute that he seemed to be in love with his brother. About time someone realized what a catch Malik was under all of that sarcasm and hostility. Now for Malik just to get his head out of his ass.
“Layla’s not getting better,” Lucy said in a careful tone. “Her fever is getting worse. None of the medication is working.”
“If only we had a doctor who was conscious,” Shaun snapped.
“Shaun,” Desmond warned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Shut the fuck up about Malik already.”
“We just take them with us. Whether they sleep here or in a car, what does it matter?” Rebecca offered, trying to find a middle ground. “Let’s just get some distance between us and the creeps. One of them already found you guys before. I don’t want to wait for the rest of them to show up too.”
“What are we doing?”
Kadar started for the second time, turning around to find Leonardo pressed up against the shelving unit behind Altair. Altair did not look surprised in the least by his sudden appearance. At least one of them was aware of their surroundings because it would appear that Kadar most certainly was not.
“This is not inconspicuous at all,” Kadar grumbled, wondering how long it was until they were found to be listening in.
The answer was not long.
“Hey!” Claudia hobbled up behind them with a bright smile on her face, leaning on the wall for support. If it made Kadar’s brain temporarily cease functioning, he was only human. He couldn’t even be annoyed that she had totally blown their cover. She could probably get away with just about anything when it came to him. He sort of hoped that she never found out. And yet, part of him was okay if she did. “He’s awake.”
The others went silent as they realized that there were people now listening, but the rest of the group hidden behind the shelves couldn’t have given two shits about that. They all rushed back to the sleeping area. Ezio was talking quietly to Malik from where he was sat beside him on the ground. He carefully got up as they approached, giving them a relieved smile even as he made space for them. Kadar was on his knees in an instant, grabbing up one of Malik’s hands.
“Mal! Thank fuck. Don’t ever scare me like that again!”
Altair settled on the other side of Malik, folding his arms over his bent knees, face still carefully neutral. He kept his hands to himself, despite the fact that he’d had a hand on Malik in some way or another the whole time that he’d been sleeping. Like he needed to remind himself that he was still breathing. He may have been putting up a strong front for Malik, but he wasn’t fooling Kadar.
“‘M sorry,” Malik mumbled groggily. “Long was I out?”
“Couple days,” Altair replied quietly. Malik turned his head to look at him, his face the same mirror of indifference as the man he was looking at.
“You’re a crazy fucking asshole.”
The mask cracked and Altair let out a laugh, grinning lopsidedly at his brother. The comfort he took from that barbed comment was blatantly obvious. Like he was only just now reassured that he hadn’t left Malik brain damaged. Fools. Complete fools. Kadar loved them.
“I never said it was a good plan.”
“Okay, stop flirting,” Kadar interrupted, earning a snort from Ezio behind him. “How are you feeling? What do you need?”
“Water’s probably a good start,” Malik said raspily, and then he turned back to look at Kadar. He looked uncertain to see him. It occurred to Kadar that Malik probably had no idea where he was or how he had gotten there. They’d kind of skipped that part in their enthusiasm to see him awake. “Am I dreaming?”
Kadar laughed as well and carefully smoothed a hand through his brother’s hair, pressing a hand to his uninjured cheek. “No. I’m here. They’re here. They found us. Altair brought you back to me.”
“Here,” Leonardo passed him a bottle of water with a straw. Malik attempted to sit up with a groan, and Altair and Kadar both rushed to help him. In the end, they each grabbed a side. Malik made to drink the whole thing, but Altair pulled it away after a minute earning himself a glare for his trouble.
“Not all at once. Take it easy.”
“He’s up,” a voice spoke behind them.
They turned to find the other group standing off to the side, and Kadar wanted to tell them to fuck off. He liked them well enough, but his brother needed rest. He knew what they were after and he wasn’t even a little surprised when the first thing they said was, “We really need you to take a look at Layla.”
“Back off,” Altair growled, “He just woke up.”
“Who the hell is Layla?” Malik asked tiredly, rubbing at his cheek. Altair smacked his hand away so he didn’t disturb the closures.
“Our friend. She’s sick. Nothing’s helping. Please.”
“He just woke up,” Kadar repeated Altair’s words, leveling them with what he hoped was a severe look. He knew it wasn’t nearly as threatening as one by the other two, but he was going to try his damndest.
“Maybe you should give them a minute,” Ezio replied casually, Leonardo nodding enthusiastically beside him. The others looked like they wanted to argue, but there was something in Ezio’s tone that didn’t offer much of a future debate. They backed off and Kadar was thankful, and then they retreated into the back amongst some grumbling.
“We’ll leave you alone too,” Leonardo said after a moment, “Nice to see you again, Malik. We’re glad you’re awake.”
“Sure,” Malik agreed dully, laying back down again and throwing an arm over his eyes.
“Want some painkillers?” Kadar suggested, squeezing his hand sympathetically.
“No. Save them.”
“Take some,” Altair pushed, already sifting through the bottles in Malik’s bag. Yes, it was good to have someone who was willing to out stubborn Malik. Kadar had not been very successful at it in his twenty seven years of trying.
“No. We shouldn’t waste them.”
“It’s not a waste. Shut up,” Altair told him, nodding his head at Kadar so they could help him sit up again. He then very boldly tapped Malik on the chin. “Open.”
Malik glared at him, but opened his mouth and let Altair pop two pills into his mouth. The scowl persisted over the bottle of water that Altair offered him after. Altair looked a little smug when the medication had been successfully consumed and Kadar tried to warn him with a look not to push his luck. He’d already accomplished a miracle. Anything else would be hubris.
“Where are we?”
“Somewhere east of Sherbrooke, I think,” Kadar told him, “The group wants to keep moving. They didn’t want to stay this long, but with the two of you down…”
Malik nodded and then grimaced looking a little queasy at the motion. Kadar rubbed his back in between his shoulder blades soothingly. “Have you checked their friend? Was she bitten?”
“They didn’t really ask for our help,” Kadar admitted with a shrug, “I think they were waiting for your professional opinion. I offered them some flu tablets from your bag.”
“Flu,” Malik frowned at Kadar with still-glassy eyes. “Fever?”
“Yeah.”
“They need to check for bites.”
“That’s what I said,” Altair agreed, nodding. Kadar had noticed that Altair had been keeping a particularly hard watch on that corner of the room. He’d thought at first that maybe he just didn’t trust the new people, but now Kadar realized that he thought she was going to turn and was waiting for the inevitable.
“You’ve seen it then.” Malik exchanged a grim look with Altair and sighed. He repeated, “They need to check for bites.”
“I’ll tell them.”
He thought he heard Altair mumble, “They should already know to look.”
Kadar gave Malik a light squeeze of his hand and then leveraged himself upright. He walked over to the other end of the store’s back area, where the other group had set up camp. They had sort of wordlessly agreed to keep their distance from each other. The group was gathered around a cot and when Kadar got closer he could see the deathly pallor of the woman’s face. Despite the paleness of her face, her cheeks were flushed and her skin had a sheen of sweat that showed how badly the fever was burning through her. Kadar swallowed hard before he cleared his throat to announce his presence. They all turned to look at him, but it was Desmond that came over to see what he wanted.
“Mal wants to know if you’ve checked her,” Kadar started, slightly uncomfortable, “For… you know… for bites.”
Desmond was joined by the blonde woman, Lucy, who put her hands on her hips, “She said she wasn’t bitten. I believe her.”
“People lie when they’re scared,” Kadar offered gently.
Desmond looked stricken, but determined when he turned back to look at Lucy. “Jesus Christ, Luce. I thought you said you checked. You just asked?”
“She wouldn’t lie!”
Desmond shook his head and walked back over to their friend. It looked like she was sleeping, until he started rolling up her sleeves. Her eyes snapped open and Desmond held his hands up in a placating gesture, “I’m just looking, Layla.”
“I’m not bit.”
“Just let me look,” he replied carefully.
“No!” Layla protested as he went to roll up her pant leg. She was too weak to put up any fight, squeezing her eyes shut as he pushed it up further. “It’s just a scratch. It’s a scratch. It’s only a scratch…”
Kadar’s lips thinned into a grimace as the pants rolled up further, all but peeling the skin with it. On her calf her skin was bevelled out in an oozing, open wound that was pretty distinctly in the shape of teeth having rendered flesh. She must have received it in the fight at the border crossing. Maybe when she’d been trying to help their friend. Kadar was honestly surprised that it had taken so long for her to fall so sick. Strong lady.
“Oh buggering hell,” Shaun growled, covering his mouth.
The others all went perfectly quiet, even as Desmond rolled her pants back down slowly with shining eyes.
“It’s just a scratch,” Layla repeated, tears starting to stream down her cheeks.
“Layla,” Lucy said quietly, “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“It’s just a scratch…”
“I’m sorry,” Kadar told them sincerely, backing away from the others and retreating back to his own family. He wasn’t about to offer up to euthanize their friend. He wasn’t as strong as Malik. He didn’t have the stomach for it. He didn’t really think that any of them did either. It was an unthinkable situation with no pleasant solution.
When he sat down quietly beside the others, eyes trained on the ground in between them, Malik sighed heavily.
“I was hoping I was wrong.”
Kadar laughed humourlessly, “When are you ever.”
The fever took the girl some time in the night.
Kadar fell asleep gripping Malik’s hand tightly, and Malik had been drifting in and out of sleep for what felt like days but had obviously only been hours. He was aware of Altair leaning against the wall beside them, his knife curled loosely in his fingers as it rested in his lap. Malik would have told him to get some sleep, but he knew that it would be pointless to do so. If their positions were reversed, Malik wouldn’t have been sleeping either with the possibility of a threat so close by. At some point, a distraught-looking Shaun had appeared and asked Altair in a whisper for help. Altair had gone with the man quietly, and Malik had tried to stay up until he returned but he hadn’t managed to keep his eyes open.
The next time he woke up there was sunlight streaming in from the skylights in the ceiling and Altair had resumed his position beside him. The situation must have been taken care of, because the knife was back in his belt.
“Morning,” Altair said quietly when he noticed that he was awake.
“Guess so,” Malik agreed, carefully extricating his hand from Kadar and leveraging himself up into a sitting position with Altair’s help. He leaned heavily against the wall, and felt all the pain that had decided to return in full force. He wasn’t at all sure where it was all coming from, except that it seemed to be all over. It made it difficult to pinpoint his specific injuries.
“Buongiorno,” Leonardo said cheerfully from his other side, if quietly so as not to wake Kadar. He reached over his brother’s sleeping form and passed Malik a mug of something hot. He took a sip from it, but just as quickly sucked in a breath through his teeth at the agony that shot through his ribs upon lifting his arm. He didn’t need an xray to know that something was at the very least cracked, if not broken.
“Open,” Altair ordered again, already reaching for the bottle of pills.
“I’m not a small child or a baby bird,” Malik snapped, feeling his temper flare.
“Then stop throwing a temper tantrum and take your medicine like a good boy.”
“No, we need to save it. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’re in pain. Take the pills.”
“They’re my fucking pills to distribute. Get out of my bag.”
Kadar groaned and pulled his sleeping bag over his head, “Too early for flirting. Shut up.”
“You are an odd, but entertaining bunch,” Leonardo mused, accepting a plate from Claudia with a bright smile when she handed it to him.
She brought one over to Altair and Malik as well, before placing one beside Kadar’s sleeping bag. Altair looked at it warily, but eventually started eating. Malik wasn’t really inclined to move, but he didn’t feel like being spoon fed either. Especially after his comments about not needing to be helped. It looked like eggs and hashbrowns. He furrowed his brow at it, wondering where they would have gotten them from.
“It’s all instant, I’m afraid,” she told him sitting down across from him with a sad smile. “Nothing fresh to cook with for a long time.”
“It’s perfect, passerotta,” Ezio told her with a little pat on the head as he sat down as well.
Malik couldn’t help wondering where the hell they had come from and why they had decided to feed them again. He thought he remembered seeing them yesterday when he woke up, but he was half convinced that he was hallucinating because it seemed too far-fetched that the Italians had actually managed to find them. He looked over at Altair in bewilderment only for him to nod at Malik as if to say ‘you’re not crazy’.
“I wanted to thank you,” Claudia said, beaming a smile at Malik, “Ezio said that you saved my life.”
“He didn’t really give me a choice,” Malik replied, wincing again as he raised his arm to eat. Altair sighed beside him, and Malik very pointedly kept his attention on the girl in front of him.
“All the same. I am in your debt.”
“As are we,” Leonardo agreed, “We were so happy to come across Kadar. We were hoping to join you on your journey north, but we did not dare to dream that it would happen so quickly. I wish that it had been under better circumstances.”
“Understatement,” Kadar’s muffled voice came from the sleeping bag.
Altair leaned across Malik to poke the sleeping bag in the approximate location of his brother’s torso, earning a yelp. “Get up, kid. Eat.”
“And then you two show up with our cousin,” Ezio told Malik with a smile. He seemed to be in much better spirits with his sister in better health. Far less threatening. “It would seem you are very good luck for us.”
Malik did not feel very lucky just then. In fact, they seemed distinctly unlucky given everything that had come to pass over the last little while.
“Cousin?” Malik asked. He felt very out of the loop. He wasn’t really convinced that this wasn’t all going on in his head still. That he hadn’t mushed his brain against his skull in the crash. Maybe he was already dead.
“Desmond,” Altair supplied in between bites.
“Huh.” Small world. “I don’t know about the people he’s with.”
“They seem alright,” Claudia said uneasily. “Can’t they come too?”
Malik pushed the powdered eggs around on his paper plate with his fork. “Big groups are dangerous. Bigger target. More mouths to feed.”
“Many hands make light work,” Leonardo countered with a shrug, “Imagine all that we could accomplish together. More people to fight beside us.”
Altair scoffed, “No fighters in that bunch.”
“I don’t know…” Malik mumbled. He didn’t want the added distractions.
The Italians looked like they were about to argue with him, but there was a commotion coming from the other end of the store. Malik instantly filled with dread. They shouldn’t be making so much noise.
Desmond ran around the corner, followed by Shaun and started pulling them all to their feet.
“Get up! Hurry up!”
“What’s happened?” Ezio asked, already grabbing his rifle.
Kadar had quickly crawled out of his sleeping bag and started rolling it up, but Shaun was shaking his head at him. “No time,” he told him, “We’ve gotta go.”
The sound of glass breaking in the distance announced something breaking through the windows of wherever the hell they were staying. Malik found himself hauled to his feet by his brother and Altair. The sudden change in level made him dizzy and he swayed a little, making Altair lean in with an arm around his waist to keep him upright.
“What’s happening?” Malik repeated angrily. They needed information to make a plan.
“Zombies. A lot of them,” Desmond was looking around the edge of the door out towards the store. A grocery store, apparently. “They went out to… to bury Layla and… they just came around the corner. A whole group of the fuckin’ things. They followed the others back. I don’t know how many, didn’t stick around to count them.”
“Maybe we can use the aisles to funnel them,” Malik offered, looking around for his bow.
“You’re not doing anything,” Altair told him.
“You guys really are crazy,” Desmond hissed, “We’re not taking down that many. We need to leave.”
“There are enough of us that it can be controlled,” Malik told him, still looking around. “Where’s my bow?”
“You’re not pulling a bow with broken ribs and you’re not aiming at shit when you can’t even stand without getting dizzy,” Altair explained to him slowly, like maybe he was stupid. Malik wanted to smack him, only that would probably hurt a lot. Might be worth it though.
“Stop arguing,” Ezio growled, pushing Claudia lightly towards Kadar. “Take her and your brother and hide in the closet.”
“I can fight!” Kadar protested, even as he slid his arm around Claudia to help her walk. He motioned at Altair helplessly, “He’s probably got broken ribs too. And he was shot…”
“He’s still more dangerous than you.”
Well, Ezio did not mince his words, Malik couldn’t help thinking. And he was probably right. Kadar could hold his own against one or two, but he tended to get overwhelmed when there was a large group and panic.
Altair transferred Malik over to his brother, and Malik wrapped an arm around his brother’s shoulders with another hiss of pain. Altair raised an eyebrow at him, the corner of his mouth lifting up, as if to say ‘i told you so’.
“Don’t do anything crazy,” Malik told him firmly.
“I only save my crazy plans for when you’re involved,” Altair replied, unsheathing his knife. Idiot, Malik thought, maybe a little too fondly. Infuriating.
Kadar managed to get them into the closet and sat on some milk crates before he shut the door.
“I should be helping,” he grumbled, arms folded over his chest as he leaned against the door. Malik and Claudia exchanged exasperated smiles.
Altair and Ezio decided to split themselves between the group. He still hadn’t asked what kind of training Ezio had, or what he used to do for a living. Altair just knew that he recognized somebody with combat training. And the others didn’t have it. So, it was Ezio, Leonardo (though Altair could not for the life of him understand why he wasn’t also banished to the closet as a liability), Shaun, and Kiyoshi. Altair took Desmond, Rebecca, and Lucy. They set off down separate sides of the store and attempted to put Malik’s funneling idea into practice.
“Two and two,” Altair told his ‘team’. “Cover each other. While one is taking care of a biter, the other makes sure they don’t get caught while they’re vulnerable. Especially in close like this… save the ammo as a last resort.”
He grabbed a shopping cart on the way by and Desmond did the same so they could block the other end of the aisle behind them. No need for surprises coming up behind them when they were focused on one end of the aisle.
Desmond and Lucy made a surprisingly good team from what Altair could see in the carnage. And Rebecca wasn’t completely useless, if a bit twitchy and nervous. Altair had her mostly just keeping an eye on him while he did the dispatching. She did manage to spear one through the throat who tried to take a chunk of his arm when his knife got stuck in a particularly stubborn skull. He hoped that things were going as smoothly on the other side of the store. There was a lack of screaming, so that was promising.
They were all panting by the end of it. The floor was a mountain of corpses and congealed, old blood. Thick and dark in goopy puddles and spattered all over the aisle. The stench was unbelievable. Altair supposed he’d never had to deal with it much because he usually did his killing outdoors. His shoulder was screaming in pain and he hoped to hell there weren’t any more around. Bringing his knife up, he started tapping it loudly on the metal shelves.
“Any more of you fuckers?!” A snarl sounded from the aisle over and he sighed, “Not done yet.”
“Oh come on,” Rebecca whined. “We’ve killed like twenty of them.”
“And yet there’s at least one more,” Altair replied, stalking around the corner and almost running face first into the damn thing. Its fingers latched onto his coat and dragged him forward and he went with the momentum, pushing his knife into its jaw. Only the corpse was already so decomposed that the jaw just shifted to the side and took his knife with it, sliding the point away from the place it needed to go to render it immobile for good.
Now one would think that removing a jaw would make it incapable of biting, but it still had top teeth that seemed intent on clamping down on him. It’s blackened tongue lolled out freely from its mouth as it gurgled at him, straining towards his neck. The angle it had lunged at him meant that he was mostly using his injured arm to push it back and Altair was starting to think that maybe he had been overconfident. A first, definitely.
“Lean away!”
Altair pulled away as much as he could and that wild-looking samurai sword pushed through the middle of the zombie’s skull like it was butter. It collapsed in a pile at his feet, and Altair turned to find the other group. They were covered in gore and looking just as tired, but also just as unharmed.
“So it’s not just decorative,” he said to Kiyoshi, breathing heavily.
“Not as such,” the man agreed with a smile. “The funneling thing was a good call.”
“Malik has better ideas than me,” Altair agreed. “We should do a quick sweep. Make sure we got them all. Then we can figure out what the hell the plan is.” He eyed the members of the other group. “Together.”
They exchanged a bit of a guilty look but were all nodding their heads. Ezio gave him an approving sort of nod, which he neither required nor approved of. He was itching to go to the back and make sure that none had gotten through to the staff area, but they needed to secure the front first. Malik and Kadar were fine, he repeated to himself. Everyone was alive for another day. No one had been bitten. At least he hoped that was the case. He didn’t think that he had it in him to put anyone else out of their misery today.
Notes:
passerotta - supposedly means 'little sparrow', and is a term of endearment for a child or sister. so the internet tells me.
BerlinLondon221 on Chapter 1 Tue 01 Oct 2024 01:00PM UTC
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GarrulousGryffindor (thegalenwrites) on Chapter 1 Tue 01 Oct 2024 04:31PM UTC
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MoonlitFlower on Chapter 3 Wed 16 Oct 2024 11:29PM UTC
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Inès (Guest) on Chapter 5 Wed 04 Dec 2024 06:03PM UTC
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Inès (Guest) on Chapter 5 Tue 10 Dec 2024 03:34PM UTC
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GarrulousGryffindor (thegalenwrites) on Chapter 5 Tue 07 Jan 2025 07:42AM UTC
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GriefSeeder on Chapter 5 Mon 23 Dec 2024 05:04AM UTC
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GarrulousGryffindor (thegalenwrites) on Chapter 5 Tue 07 Jan 2025 07:44AM UTC
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Setii on Chapter 5 Sun 29 Dec 2024 09:56AM UTC
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GarrulousGryffindor (thegalenwrites) on Chapter 5 Tue 07 Jan 2025 07:45AM UTC
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Picchio7 on Chapter 5 Mon 30 Dec 2024 05:55AM UTC
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GarrulousGryffindor (thegalenwrites) on Chapter 7 Sat 22 Feb 2025 02:41PM UTC
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