Nothing Left to Fear || Closed

“Oh fuck,” Sarah groaned, surprised that he’d started to thrust a little harder. She shouldn’t have been surprised, not when she’d gasped the word out herself. But she was too caught up in the momentum, too focused on what she was feeling to really pay attention to the words leaving her mouth. She did have enough sense of mind to think back to the horror movies that she’d seen in the past, specifically the zombie ones. Or any featuring the two main characters having sex, really. That usually meant that they were going to bite the bullet soon after. She’d always laughed at those characters, unable to believe that anyone would just do it with a stranger while the middle of an apocalypse. But in that moment, she got it. It was easier to focus on the thrust of his hips than the groans from outside. It felt good to just feel something other than sheer terror for the first time in what felt like forever. It was nice to be reminded that she wasn’t alone.

Despite herself, she let out a soft wine as he pulled away. She just wanted his lips on her. It didn’t matter what part of her body, just as long as they were on her. She couldn’t help the grin that made itself known on her lips when a noise of his own left him. Good. She liked that she wasn’t the only one feeling a little too into it. She gasped as he started back up again, quickly turning into a moan at just how fast the pace was. It made her have to focus a little more to keep in time with his. The last thing she wanted to do was throw them both off. It felt too good to have anything interrupt them. Her eyes slipped shut, feeling almost comforted as his hand rested against her back. She smiled into the kiss, her lips moving back slowly against his. He was so good at this that for a moment, she was scared that it’d be too easy to develop feelings for him based solely on this.

Sarah would never admit it to him, but she’d almost not even noticed that he was lifting her up. Distantly, she knew that it was happening, but it was as though she had tunnel vision. Or laser focus. Either way, the only thing she was paying attention to was the feeling of him against (and in) her, and his lips on hers. She shifted a little, fixing her legs so she was more comfortable on his lap. She looked down at him as he pulled away. She was sure that her expression was mirroring his - eyes half open, chest heaving, hair a little disheveled. The grin on his lips caused her to give him one of her own. One hand draped lazily over his shoulder, reaching up to twine his hair through her fingers. She wondered if his request for her to keep talking still stood as she moaned quietly, caught off guard by the grinding of his hips.

“Let me,” she murmured, nails scraping gentle against his scalp. It’d be much easier for her to the majority of the moving now. Slowly - experimentally - she raised her hips before lowering them. She’d been in this position before, but it always took her a couple of seconds to get the hang of it. She was going slow, almost painfully slow in her opinion, but there was a part of her that wanted to see what he’d do. The second time was a little faster, but not by much. She braced her other hand against his shoulder, thumb absentmindedly stroking the skin there as she lifted her hips, lowering them and then grinding against him. She pressed her chest into his, feeling the need to have as much of her against him as possible. Slow, she settled into her pace, thrusting up and down steadily as her fingers tugged at his hair.

---

Kennedy gave another shrug of his shoulders. “I honestly don’t really know what I’m talking about. All I know about medicine and stuff is what I got from TV shows and the occasional emergency room visit.” A thought crossed his mind that was so ridiculous it almost made him laugh. It was dumb, but he almost wished that he’d been shot before so he could have asked a doctor about the alcohol and blood loss thing. When he was in the ER, he tended to babble a lot and ask the doctor a ton of questions to distract himself from the panic that was usually coursing through him. Although looking back on it now, that wasn’t real panic. That was a small dose of panic compared to what he’d been feeling since all of this really started up. “Yeah, but did you drink so much that you got to know most of the doctors in the hospital by their first names?” He questioned. He let out a hum, acting as though he was really thinking over it. “I don’t know. Might be fun when we’re holed up somewhere,” he said, grinning at her. “I mean, if we did drink, we’d have to take turns. We couldn’t both drink tequila at the same time. We’d be fucked if something happened,” he laughed.

He would have liked for her to continue that line of conversation, but it was probably for the best that they didn’t. There wasn’t any use wishing for things being different. Everyone on the fucking planet probably wished for things to be different right about that time. Or at least, everyone that was in an infected area. Which very well could have been the entire planet. He glanced over to her when he heard the bitterness in her words, and a slow grin curled at his lips. Anger at the government, he could get with. “The fucking assholes,” he said, finding it hard not to laugh. Although at that point, for him, it was either laugh about it or cry. Because they probably did have some real fancy bunker somewhere in the middle of nowhere filled with champagne and hot tubs and whatever else the richest of the rich felt they needed to survive while everyone else was dying off. “At least complaining about the government is still the same,” he said, letting out a snort. “The pricks.”

He liked her. As in a friend. That he was mildly attracted to. But then again, who wouldn’t be attracted to her? She was cute and funny. Obviously having known her for such a short amount of time meant that him liking her didn’t actually count for much, but he enjoyed her company. He could have done a hell of a lot worse. “Oh, I’m sorry, it’s rude of me to tell you to shut up but it’s not rude for you to be all sarcastic to me because I’m concerned,” he said, rolling his eyes. He gave her a grin, though, wanting her to know that he didn’t really mean it. “What kinds are smart dogs? Because we can’t get a dumb dog. It’d just leave us behind while it ran from the zombies.” He tried to rack his mind for a list of smart dogs, but was coming up short. German shepherds were smart, he thought. Retrievers too, maybe. “Yeah, they’re the… worst.” His words fell flat as he surveyed the area before them.

They’d been dead for awhile, judging by the snow that was on them. If they’d been killed recently, their bodies would have still been warm enough to melt most of it. He looked over them, even against the voice in his head screaming to look away. It was brutal, but there didn’t seem to be any live ones around. “Right, okay,” he murmured. He almost felt as though he didn’t want to disturb the peace. “That’s a good idea.” He glanced over to the door, and it looked like something out of Shaun of the Dead. Whoever had been there had been thinking. He followed her to the door, wincing as he chose each step carefully. He gave her a nod in response, swallowing the bile that rose up his throat when he realized that there were even more bodies in the lobby. They’d all died trying to escape. “Should we take the stairs instead? The power could go off while we’re in the elevator.” It wasn’t that there had been any signs of the power going off any time soon, but it could happen at any second. And now, there was no one to call if it did go out. “I mean, we would probably be fine. I just… I don’t know much about climbing out of an elevator.”

Brendan couldn’t remember the last time a one-night stand had ended up being as…intensely pleasurable as the one he was having. Again, he could probably take a stab and say that it was more than likely the fact that this could be the last time he would ever have sex. As cliched as it was, he totally could see now why tragic events tended to bring certain people together and how those people sometimes ended up tangled heatedly in the sheets. At least if they died, they would have at least had this one last moment of doing whatever the fuck they wanted…or more, who they wanted to do. They could worry about everything else when this was done, but Brendan was secretly hoping that this would at least help send him on his way toward being able to actually get some sleep.

He enjoyed the amount of times that he’d managed to surprise her with changed in the tempo and exactly how hard he was thrusting. It always felt pretty rewarding to him when a woman was pretty vocal about how she was feeling about what he was doing. It was a big turn on to him, which is why he’d asked her to keep talking. If anything, if they stayed together to survive but couldn’t find any condoms, he would at least have the memories of the noises she was making to help get him by. But that was only if they managed to survive for long enough that they could find someplace they would really dig their feet in and make their longtime shelter. The house they were in surely would not withstand all of the zombies that roamed the street outside if they decided they all wanted to try and get inside.

The man looked up at her as she settled herself on his lap, taking in just how she looked perched in his lap; her swollen lips, her hazy eyes, and the way her chest was heaving. His hands slipped down from her hips to the tops of her thighs, back up to her hips once more and he gave them a soft squeeze. He liked the look of the confident grin on her features, eyes flickering between hers for a few moments as her fingertips wound through his hair and he leaned slightly into her touch. It felt a bit more intimate than he would have liked to admit, but in the moment, he was too occupied with her that he was just going by what felt good to him. A low hum left him a she spoke, eyes slipping shut briefly at the feel of her nails sliding against his scalp.

When she finally began to move, all the air left him in a rush and he bowed his head forward, resting his forehead on her collarbone as his hands grasped a bit more tightly to her hips for a moment. “Fuck,” he breathed shakily, before drawing in a deep breath of air and lifting his head to look up at her once more. When she finally moved again, a low moan left him, hands gripping onto her hips and aiding her in her movement. He kept his gaze locked on her, waiting to see what she would do next and ready to react on his part. When she lifted herself again, he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, a low rumble of a noise vibrating in his chest as she set up a slow pace, pressing her chest against his. “Fuck, Sarah,” he mumbled distractedly, keeping his gaze on her as she moved, head tipping back slightly as pulled at his hair. He was not going to last very much longer if she kept this up

---

Whatever conversation Kennedy and Abby were having fell by the wayside as she stepped into the apartment building. No talk of dogs or tequila or how much they would have liked to have met the other could keep her gaze off of the bodies that littered the once pristine building. The room was cold, even though she knew the heat was still running, and she briefly pondered if it was because someone had cracked the door open. For all she knew, any one of these bodies, some with indiscernible features from how badly they had been attacked, could have been her friends—some of the only that she had. A shaky sigh left her as she stood still for a moment, eyes slipping shut as she tried to rein in her emotions for the moment, at least until they got some place they could lock themselves into and she could finally feel everything that was bubbling within her and threatening to come to the surface, yet again.

“What?” She asked softly, tearing her gaze away from a particular woman on the floor with her eyes open and staring blankly at the ceiling. She’d heard what Kennedy had said, but it was taking her brain to catch up with everything. “Oh…yeah,” she finally managed to get out in response. It would be stupid for them to take the elevator, especially if the power went out. She’d forgotten to grab her cellphone and she didn’t know if Kennedy had his, so there would be no light source for them to even begin to look for a way to get out. To starve to death in an pitch black, suspended elevator would probably drive her mad. “No, stairs will probably be our safest bet as long as their clear. My friend only lived on the third floor anyways,” she told him, glancing over to him and giving him a terse nod. She watched him for a few moments, as if she were still trying to process everything that had happened. He kind of grounded her in a way, made her think that she could potentially be okay once she got to a place away from the death that surrounded them.

She turned and made her way to the door that led to the stairs and went to pull it open, completely forgetting that her dominant arm was injured with how much everything about the lobby and outside of this building had shaken her up. A soft noise of pain left her and she immediately clutched her arm against her side, frowning dramatically for a moment before she pushed the teeth-gritting pain aside for the sake of getting to her friends apartment—hopefully not finding her friends anywhere on the way—and getting them to what would hopefully be a safe place for the night. Abby didn’t even spare a look back at Kennedy, she merely pulled open the door, with her uninjured arm this time, and stopped for a moment or two to make sure there weren’t any zombies waiting for them in the stairwell. When she heard nothing, she gave a small nod, glancing over her shoulder to Kennedy, a grim look on her features, and turned to make her way up the stairs.She knew it was probably stupid to put herself in front of Kennedy even though she was injured, but that was precisely her reasoning, in some odd way. Abby knew that if she at least saved Kennedy by becoming some sort of human buffer between him and zombies, she would have at least paid him back once for saving her life twice. The walk up the stairs was long and uneventful, but for that she was thankful.

Every step she took brought them closer to being safe for the night. When she finally reached the third floor, she paused outside of the door, thankful for the lack of zombies, bodies, and blood. Pushing it open, she listened into the hallway, staring solemnly down it for any signs of…anything, but was met with nothing. She didn’t know what was be more eerie, the mass chaos of a hoard of zombies or the sepulchral silence that surrounded them now. Abby made her way down the hallway, past two doors until she stopped in front of the third on the right. Reaching out, she tested the door to find it locked. “Fuck,” she breathed, closing her eyes and leaning her forehead on the door. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course they’d lock the door, they’re…they’re supposed to be away on vacation,” she murmured. She was thankful for how quickly her brain worked to find the solution and soon enough she was kneeling in front of the locked door, yanking her hat off of her curly head of hair, and plucking two bobby pins from her hair. “I’m sorry if this doesn’t work,” she said distractedly as she pulled both of the bobby pins open and slid one into the lock, keeping in place with one had as she began to wiggle the other around and slowly push it into the lock below the other. YouTube How-To videos had been a hit or miss on whether or not they were helpful to her or not, but she was praying to whatever god was listening that this would work, if not for her sake then for Kennedy’s.

There were a lot of different dangers in the world, Sarah knew that. From the second everything had gone to shit, they were in mortal danger. But this, this felt like another kind of dangerous. This felt like they could have been playing with fire or tempting fate. She knew that generally, it took a couple having a decent amount of sex to get pregnant. That it was a lot harder than it actually seemed at times. But there were always those instances hovering around, the one night stand that turned into something more because they didn’t use protection, or the pill didn’t work, or a hundred other variances of situations where the result was always the same: pregnancy. Logically, she knew that there was very little chance of her getting pregnant. Her birth control should still be in effect. They were using a condom. They were being responsible. Or, as response as they could be while getting laid during the zombie apocalypse. But something was still tugging at the back of her mind, telling her that this was a terrible idea.

It was easy for her to silence, though. All it took was a single glance down at him, seeing the look on his face, and suddenly her worries were gone as a sharp shot of arousal rammed through her chest. The way he was leaning into her touch made her feel as though she was on top of the world. Later on, she would be concerned at how intimate it felt, and how close she felt to him. But in that moment, all it was doing was adding to her heightened senses. She was enjoying herself, and he was definitely enjoying himself, so there wasn’t any reason they should stop, her arousal-fogged mind told her. It felt good.

“Keep talking,” she murmured, repeating his words from earlier. She’d never really gotten why guys were so into girls talking to them during sex until he’d spoken. All it was was three words in total, but it was as though she could hardly contain herself. She had to force herself to remain calm and to keep her hips moving, slow but steady. She angled her hips a little, letting out a quiet moan as she found the right spot lowering her hips. Her nails scratched against his scalp. She made herself keep her eyes on his - which, in retrospect, might have been a bad idea. It made everything feel too close, as though they’d been doing this a long time and were on that level of intimacy. Once again, though, her brain urged her to keep looking at him, to take in the way he was looking and acting.

She could feel it then, the slow, warm tension building up in her abdomen. “I’m close,” she murmured, her hips still moving at that slow pace. She leaned down, pressing her lips against his jaw, kissing and sucking gently against his skin. She just wanted him, so insanely bad, even though she already had him. “So, so good,” she mumbled, pressing a final kiss to his jaw before pulling away, allowing her hips to move a little faster.

---

“Third floor’s not bad. My parents lived on the ninth floor in their building,” Kennedy said, taking care to keep his voice low. The words had slipped from his lips without even thinking about them, and they left him with a sour feeling in his stomach. Fuck, his parents. He’d managed to spend the last couple of hours studiously not thinking about them in their apartment in Philly. The last time he’d talked to them, they’d been fine. They’d been stocked up on food for ages - they’d been preppers for as long as he could remember - and they had blankets and flashlights and candles and whatever else was needed for an emergency. But they’d been expecting something else, some natural disaster. Not whatever monstrosity had plagued them. He gave his head a quick shake, forcing the thoughts away as he focused on her. She was watching him. He needed to pay attention.

He followed her towards the stairwell, opening his mouth to warn her when he realized too late what she was doing. He jolted forward a little, arm stretched out towards her and mouth open to say something before he let them drop, praying that she hadn’t seen him. It was a little embarrassing, how concerned he was for her. She could handle herself. She didn’t need him mothering her constantly. So he opted to stay quiet for once and follow her through the doors. He gave her a nod in response to hers. He should have been in front, but her in the lead made sense. She knew where they were going, and could lead them without having to say anything to him, or tell him where to go. It was easier this way. Smarter. But it didn’t stop him from slipping his pistol from his pocket, finger hovering just above the trigger.

It was silent in the building, which was weird. Most apartment buildings were silent this time of night, but this was different. At any other time, there was the usual non distinct chatter filtering into the hallway; the soft lull of a TV, or of a family spending time together. Even the occasional arguing didn’t sound so bad when it was muffled. But this type of silence, this? This was just unnerving. Kennedy followed Abby down the hall, head swiveling back and forth, occasionally turning behind him, always on the lookout for zombies. His heart was pounding too hard in his chest. What if they were ambushed? There was really nowhere for them to go. He blinked at her words, giving a sharp nod. It was locked. Of course. Neither of them had even thought about them doing the logical thing - which was locking the fucking door.

But instead of panicking, Abby pulled out bobby pins and began picking the fucking lock. His eyes widened as he stepped to her side, and leaned his shoulder against the wall, watching her. “Would it be a bad time to say that that’s kind of hot?” He asked, his voice soft. He’d play it off as a way to ease the tension that was surrounding them. Humor in the time of panic, or something. In all reality, he’d just blurted out what he’d been thinking. They’d discussed hot-wiring cars earlier, and he’d tried to imagine her doing such a thing, and he’d liked the image. This, however, was infinitely better. “Because it is. It really really is,” he added, a faint grin playing on his lips. He could totally play that off. Easy as hell.

This moment was seeming becoming more and more like Brendan had plucked it out of some movie plot. Boy and girl happened to meet in abandoned house during zombie apocalypse. Boy and girl decided to team up for the time being. Boy and girl share a bed and end up taking advantage of the last condom they may ever see. Now they they were staring into each other’s eyes, watching each other’s movements closely, he was beginning to think this was turning more like some sappy romance movie. Not that he minded. The fact that this could be the one last sort of moment of human tenderness they ever saw. The fact that this was turning a bit more intimate than most of his one-night stands didn’t really bother him all that much.

He sucked in a deep breath of air through his nose as she spoke, those two words sending a shiver down his spine and caused him to grasp a bit tighter to her hips and rock his hips up experimentally up against hers. A low groan left him and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. While he liked when women talked, he found himself at a loss for anything to say. Though, he knew he had to attempt at obliging her, he just didn’t want to make a complete ass of himself or venture into territory that she was uncomfortable with, that was a surefire way to kill the mood. He let his nose trail against her skin, until his mouth was poised just by her ear, hands still gripping at her waist and aiding her in her movements. “Sarah,” he breathed softly, teeth finding her earlobe and gripping it softly for a moment. “You feel so fucking good,” he finished, punctuating his sentence with a scraping bite to her jaw.

The noises she was making, the way her nails slipped against his scalp, and the way she would change the angle of her hips was all becoming too much for him and it was everything he had not to flip them back over and drive into her with reckless abandon. When she finally spoke, he knew he could keep his resolve until she came. When her lips met his jaw, he slipped one of his hands to her backside, grasping it in full and using that grip to help her move as his other hand slipped between her legs and found the sensitive nub that lay there. “So am I,” he murmured, letting out a soft moan at the warmth that was spreading through him.

“Fuck,” he hissed through his teeth as she moved a little faster and that was just enough to send him barreling toward and orgasm faster than he could remember one creeping up on him in the past. Suddenly, he was throwing his head back, eyes were slipping shut and his hips were bucking up against hers on their own. A guttural noise left him and it was like he was going boneless, but like every muscle in his body was stretching and contracting. When he finally got his wits back enough, coming down from his high, he continued to rub circles on that sensitive spot between her legs, as if trying to get her to her own orgasm by sheer will alone.

---

Abby could have dropped to the ground, wrapped herself up into a little ball, and sobbed herself into oblivion at the mention of her parents. She hadn’t even given her parents a passing thought as to how they were fairing through all this. They were halfway across the country, so it wasn’t like she’d be able to get to them easily, or quickly, and the phone lines had been so jammed when they’d been up that she hadn’t been able to reach anyone. If it wasn’t bad enough to see strangers torn to pieces out on the street, to think that her parents met a similar fate made her stomach churn. Though, whatever unknown strength she still had left helped her push those thoughts aside once more. They had to reach safety before she let the emotional side of her take control. So, instead of trying to say anything, to try and commiserate with Kennedy about being unknowing of where their parents were or how they thought they were fairing, she remained silent.

To be honest, Abby hadn’t the slightest clue beyond jamming two bobby pins into a lock, if what she was doing was right. In theory, she knew how the inner workings of locks functioned, but knowing how something worked and knowing how to manipulate it were two separate things. She jammed her tongue out of the corner of her mouth as she focused on making sure she kept one hand steady and the other with smooth, even movements as she moved it around in the lock. As he spoke however, she went still for a moment, eyes swooping from focusing on the lock to looking over at him with a lifted brow. Despite herself, her stomach gave an awkward jot at his words. First the whole ‘hell of a doctor’ thing and now this, she needed to be careful. While she wasn’t much of one to fall for mere compliments or words, there was something about it that brought a slight flush to her cheeks.

“I wouldn’t talk too fast,” she murmured, turning her attention back to the lock as a slight smirk curled her lips. “This will probably immediately get un-hot the moment I fail to get this door open,” she added, the smirk falling a bit as she shifted around a bit. Her arm was beginning to throb even more, even if she were just using it to keep one of the bobby pins steady, and her body was screaming for her to just find a soft place to rest for a bit. There were a few more quiet, still moments before the door produced a soft click and Abby froze. “I-I…I did it,” she breathed, reaching up with her good hand and turning the handle. The door swung open and a large sigh left the woman as she slowly got to her feet and tucked the bobby pins into her jacket. She shot a look over her shoulder to Kennedy, a small, sheepish smile on her features. “I wouldn’t expect that to happen again,” she said softy. “I think I just got lucky.”

She directed her gaze into the apartment and slowly shuffled into the room. Many a night she spent in the living room of this place, drinking with friends or just searching for a place to crash when she didn’t feel like walking the short distance back to her out apartment. There was a small bedroom off to the side, just the one, and a bathroom just to the side of that. The kitchen, dining room, and living room were all one large room. Abby had envied the floor plan, but couldn’t bring herself to pay the rent her friends did for this apartment. She stopped in the middle of the room, pulled her bag off her shoulder and set it off to the side. It felt odd knowing she was about to close herself into an apartment she’d just broken into for the night. It kind of felt like she’d gone right back to square one, like she was about to be holed back up in her own apartment.

For a moment, Sarah wanted to stave off her orgasm as much as possible. Because once it was over, that was it. They had to go back to reality, which meant trying - and probably failing - to sleep, then waking up and attempting to survive. She liked their little bubble that they’d made for the two of them. It was nice. She wasn’t sure when she’d get another moment of feeling safe like that. Sure, they’d briefly used the word ‘we’ earlier when talking about future plans, but that didn’t really mean much. They’d met earlier that evening. Hell, she didn’t even know his last name. She didn’t know anything about him. To expect him to stick around with her during the apocalypse was ridiculous. So she resolved to prolong this for as long as she could hold out.

Which, it turned out, probably wouldn’t be that long. The way he breathed out her name sent a bolt of arousal through her that was so sharp she almost moaned. She kept her hips moving, trying to focus on that instead of the feeling of him against her. She let out a gasp as his teeth met her earlobe. She’d never really asked a guy to talk during sex, but she wasn’t disappointed. He wasn’t saying many words, but he didn’t have to. The words he was saying were more than enough. Her eyes slipped shut as she rode him, knowing that she was heading closer and closer to finishing. “So good,” she mumbled, unsure if she was agreeing with him or saying that he felt the same. Which he did. Not for the first time did she think that had they done this when everything had been normal, he wouldn’t have left her bed for an entire weekend.

She let out a louder moan than she’d meant to, surprised to feel his hand between her legs. “F-fuuuuck,” she stuttered out. It was growing more and more difficult to keep her hips steady. All she wanted to do was just chase that warmth that was growing between her legs. It was hard to think past wanting to grind against his fingers and move her hips even faster. Her head tilted back as her chest arched against him. She barely register that he’d spoken, but the meaning was understood. She couldn’t help herself from moving her hips a little faster still, her breath stuttering through her mouth.

Opening her eyes just in time, she watched as his head went back and his eyes shut and the noise he was making was sending her very close to the edge. She continued to move, although slowing her movements so it wouldn’t be too much for him. It was sad, really, but she’d expected him to pull out and be done. Not that every guy she’d slept with hadn’t bothered to try and get her to her own orgasm, but it was enough that she was always pleasantly surprised. And Brendan did not disappoint. She was so, so close as she ground against him. She dropped her head onto his shoulder, chest heaving as it started to come upon her. She still had one hand with fingers intertwined with his hair, and they tightened a little as she let out a breathless moan. It felt like a fire roaring within her, consuming her focus and her strength. Her hips had slowed their movements to a stop by the time her pulse got close to something that resembled normal. Lifting her head up a little, she shot him a weak grin. “That was, uh, that was fun.”

---

It occurred to him that while he hadn’t made a single mention of his parents before that moment, she hadn’t either. Which could have meant just about anything. But there was a possibility that he had just reminded her that her parents are somewhere out there on their own, and she might never get in touch with them again. Which made him feel like utter shit. Sure, they both knew that the whole thing was going to suck, but it was different to be reminded of it. Maybe drinking wasn’t a good idea. Kennedy had a tendency to be pretty loose-lipped when he was drunk, and it wouldn’t help either of them if he got all weepy about his parents and then started to apologize to her for making her feel bad. He was already blurting out shit and he was still sober. Albeit, tired, but sober. So he pressed his lips together tightly, praying that he’d just managed to keep his mouth shut long enough for them to get in there and be relatively safe for the night.

“I don’t know about that. I’ve got faith in you,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. He returned her smirk with one of his own. Did this count as flirting? He wasn’t sure. He was great at flirting in normal situations, but this was different. He wasn’t even sure if it was a good idea to flirt with her. What would come of it? What if she got annoyed with him? What if he -

His thoughts were interrupted by a quiet click. Normally, he probably wouldn’t have noticed it, but the hallway was absolutely silent - save for that single click. His eyes widened as he looked down at her, a grin flickering across his lips as the door swung open. “Well shit,” he said, letting out a soft laugh filled with disbelief. “Look at that, you criminal,” he teased, a small smile flickering onto his lips as he glanced towards the doorway. Without a moment of hesitation, he followed her into the room, taking care to shut the door behind him. He flicked the lock back to where it had been. He wasn’t planning on having a repeat of the grocery store anytime soon. He stepped forward, pulling his arm through the backpack strap and letting the pack slide off of his shoulders. He set it against the wall before deciding to take a better look.

“It’s nice,” he murmured. It was a nice enough place that he figured the walls would be thick. Whispering and murmuring probably wasn’t needed, but he wasn’t really planning on trying out that theory. He lifted a foot up to tug off his shoe, setting it beside his backpack before repeating the motions with his other one. He padded over to the kitchen to take a look, flicking the switch to turn on the light. It turned on instantly, the action making him grin. He looked over to Abby, an impossibly wide smile on his face. “You want some of that hot chocolate now? I’m pretty sure I can boil some water.”

Brendan sat still for a few moments as the world around him slowly came back into focus and his breathing slowed. His pulse was still thrumming quickly and he could feel his heart hammering in his chest. He was tired, so he’d at least achieved that much, but he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to slow his mind down enough that he’d actually be able to sleep. When she spoke, he cracked his eyes open, aware of just how warm her skin felt beneath his fingertips. The grin she wore brought a tired grin to his own lips and he let out a quiet, huff of a laugh at her words. “Yeah,” he agreed, eyes slipping over her features for a moment. He swallowed hard before drawing in a deep breath of air. As gently and as smoothly as he possibly could, he gripped her hips tightly and lifted her off of his lap, effectively sliding out of her with that single movement. A soft noise left him as he set her down on the tops of his thighs. “That was…" He could have said something about how for the last time they could potentially have sex, that was probably the best lay he’d had in a while.

“That was nice. That was really nice. Sucks not having more than one fucking condom,” he admitted with a wry laugh and a sly sort of grin. He dragged his tongue over his lips, taking in her ruffled hair, her ‘I just had sex’ look, and finding that the look suited her. If he’d had his way, he’d make sure she looked like this all the time. But he wasn’t going to have his way, not this time, and there was a sort of bitter jab to his pride at that thought. They weren't going to, nor could they, continue on with this after tonight. There would be no second date, no second call to the other’s apartment or home, and the intimate moments they just shared would just fall by the wayside. Whatever cursory understanding he had of Sarah and her personality had lead him to believe that she would have been girlfriend material, someone he’d like to keep around; a girl with backbone, but also one who seemed to need him.

A soft hum left him as he looked away, feeling he may have been staring at her for too long and that he may make her uncomfortable. “I-uh...I guess we should get dressed,” he said softly, lifting his gaze back up to meet hers. “You know, in case we have to leave in a hurry,” he added with a humorless laugh. Yep, it was back to reality of things just like that. He gently shifted out from beneath her to slide off the side of the bed. His gaze caught sight of a trashcan to the side of the bed, discarding the used condom into it before pulling on his underwear. Reluctantly, he pulled on the rest of his clothes, leaving his shoes off the side where they had been before. He glanced around the room, listening in for any signs that anyone or anything had entered the house while they were occupied, but gladly could hear nothing. Dragging a hand through his hair, he spared a glance over to Sarah before settling down on the edge of the bed for a moment.

Heaving a great sigh, he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, shaking his head for a moment. He could have gone into some great explanation of why he’d initiated what they had done. He could try to explain that he expected that to be a one time only thing, but he knew those things were better off left unsaid. Instead, he scrambled to find something to say. The one thing his mind could rest on was, “We probably should try to get some sleep.” He knew, despite how tired he felt now, there was a slim chance he’d actually be getting any restful sleep, but it would be worth a chance. Who knew the next time they’d be able to try and get a decent night’s sleep?

---

Abby was feeling extremely conflicted. On one hand, she was feeling panicked and scared and didn’t know what was happening. She felt like she was just being swept away by the tide or like she was merely being reactive instead of proactive in what was coming next. She was dwelling on the fates of her parents, of her friends, of any humans left over On the other hand, she was feeling extremely conflicted over how Kennedy was acting around her. Flirting had never really come easy to her. She would be the first to admit she was an awkward person who was too shy for her own good. Why was flirting all of a sudden so easy? Abby decided she was going to chalk it up to the fact that he’d saved her life, she had lost a decent amount of blood, and she was tired. Or there was the whole, you know, end of the world thing that always seemed to break down barriers a lot faster than usual.

She wasn’t proud of the fact that she’d broken into a friend’s apartment, but she really didn’t see where they had any other viable options. There was no way she was going to stay on the streets, not when they had a known shelter close by. Besides, like she had been telling Kennedy before, she didn’t really see where law really mattered anymore. They had already stolen a bunch of things from that store; it was only natural that lock-picking came next. Though, she’d be lying if she didn’t find a blush rising to the apples of her cheeks at Kennedy’s teasingly calling her a “criminal”. Though, she met it with an eye roll and a slight upward tilt of the corner of her lips. “If you start singing any songs about breaking the rules or running from law enforcement or bounties or anything like that, I’ll punch you,” she threatened playfully, her smirk turning into more of a smile at his words.

Toeing off her shoes, the moment her socked feet hit the wooden floors, it immediately felt like just a snowy night in, like her friends had just run off to go get more booze and snacks for them to while the night away. “Yeah,” she breathed in response to Kennedy’s comment. “I was always way jealous of these windows. They overlook the most beautiful park in the city,” she continued quietly. She stepped over to the windows slowly. Out of sheer habit, she plugged in the blue and white Christmas lights they kept up to frame the window year round and lowered herself down onto the window seat, tucking her legs up underneath herself as she looked out the window. For the moment, she could forget about the events of the day or the week and just try to clear her mind. Freaking out and breaking down could happen later, right now, she just needed to relax and get better. At the mention of hot chocolate, she turned to flash him her own smile. “Hot chocolate sounds great,” she replied with a nod of her head before turning to glance out at the window.

Her gaze was not at the ground, not trying to spy any hoards of zombies that could come their way, but at the snow that was dimly illuminated by the lights of the apartment. It seemed so oddly peaceful, this whole building, the quiet, and the snow. She was thankful her mind hadn’t caught up and let her know that now would be a decent time to let everything sink in. Abby just wanted to enjoy the still and the quiet. Slowly, she shrugged out of her jacket, wincing slightly as she maneuvered her injured arm out of the sleeve. She frowned a bit at the bullet hole in her sweater and the blood that stained the fabric, making a mental note to grab clothes from her friends’ closet. And a jacket, they both definitely needed warmer jackets. With a sigh, she pulled off the sweater as well, leaving herself in a black tank top that exposed the dainty filigree of floral black-and-grey tattoos that covered both of her upper arms. She was tugging a thick blanket over her shoulders soon enough, snuggling into it as her gaze returned back out the window and the heat cut on. “I wonder if bourbon will be good in hot chocolate. Lord knows we could both do with a little booze,” she murmured wryly, not tearing her gaze away from the window.

It took her approximately four seconds to realize just how awkward this was going to be. Normally, the guy would just pull out the second he’d come back to earth, but she was still settled against him. Her cheeks burned, but the anxious nerves in her chest settled a little at the sight of his exhausted grin. Maybe it wouldn’t be as terrible as she was expecting it to be. Her hands went to his shoulders, keeping herself steady as she lifted her hips. It was weird. Normally, she wouldn’t have to worry about seeing whoever she’d slept with again. But now… It was weird. Her thumb tapped against his shoulder, absentmindedly as she waited for him to continue. It was hard to gauge what he was going to say. She didn’t know him well enough to guess. It had been fun. Great. Fantastic. Distracting. A miracle lay considering the fact that there were literal zombies outside and they’d managed to get off fairly well.

Nice. It was nice. They’d had nice sex. Sarah shook her head at him, snorting softly. “Yeah, it really fucking sucks,” she murmured. She didn’t mean to, but her gaze caught on his tongue that dragged over his mouth, and it took more willpower than she’d like to admit to shift her focus to anything but him. He looked good like this. There was a faint ache in her chest at the realization that she probably wouldn’t see him look like this again any time soon - or ever, really. Condoms were low on the list of necessities to survive the apocalypse. Which was just as well, really. If they’d continued to have sex like that, it would have been too easy to develop feelings. Even in that moment, she was tamping down any feelings of fondness towards him. Odds were that they’d either end up leaving one another eventually, or they’d die. And while emotional stability wasn’t to be expected during the apocalypse, she wanted to hold onto whatever stability she could.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” she murmured, looking back to him. “I’d rather be dressed than running through the streets naked.” The corners of her lips twitched into a small smirk at the thought. She was almost positive that somewhere, in some part of the country, there was a zombie butt-ass naked. She’d do anything to ensure that she didn’t end up like that. She shifted her weight, moving so she wouldn’t topple over as he moved from underneath her. She watched him, her eyes tracing alongside his bare skin. She might never see him shirtless again, which was a damn shame. Jerking her gaze away, she glanced towards her own clothes before scooting towards the end of the bed. She hesitated for a moment before getting up and walking over to where he’d tossed her clothes. It would have been embarrassing if he hadn’t been doing the same thing. She pulled her underwear up, bitting at her bottom lip as she followed suit with the rest of her clothes.

She was pulling her shirt over her head when she heard him sigh. She didn’t like the silence at all, but it still better than making any awkward small talk. There wasn’t anything to say, really. There weren’t any condoms left, and they could possibly die tomorrow. That kind of killed any chance of making some light conversation. “Yeah, we probably should,” she said rather lamely. She carved her fingers through her hair, trying to tame it down as much as possible as she headed back towards the bed. Pausing for a moment, she stole another glance towards him before moving to lay down on the bed. She kept her gaze on the ceiling, her fingers thrumming against her stomach. She could hear a faint moan coming from outside of the house. Sleep seemed like a far off thing that definitely wasn’t going to be coming to her that night.

---

Kennedy wasn’t exactly a flirt. In fact, it was a miracle that he’d learned how to flirt well at all. He hadn’t gotten anywhere near comfortable with flirting with people until he’d gotten into his twenties, and even then, his friends had tended to make fun of his flirting abilities more than anything else. But it was easy to flirt a little with Abby. He likened it to a coping mechanism. He wasn’t prepared to really handle anything else at that moment, so it was easier to focus on making her blush. He tugged his hat off, shoving it into the pocket of his jacket as he watched her for a moment. There was no way that she could have been taking any of this well. Obviously, her friends weren’t around. Which meant that she might never see them again. It was still a surreal thought. Friends that he’d seen just that weekend at the bar, he might never see them again.

“So what you’re saying is that I definitely shouldn’t start singing Smooth Criminal?” He asked, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. He hadn’t even thought about doing that until she mentioned something, but now it was all he could think about. He held out, though, and kept silent. His gaze flickered over to her injured arm, watching it for a moment. It was too hard to tell in the light just how bad it looked. But she hadn’t passed out, and he was going to consider that a positive sign. All they needed was just a long night’s sleep, and maybe a hot shower. And a drink. Maybe a lot of drinks. He shoved his fingers through his hair, a nervous habit that had stuck with him since he’d been a kid.

He looked over towards the windows, knowing exactly what she meant. The snow made it hard to really see the park from where he was standing, but it still looked nice. The streetlights were lighting up the snow, and it reminded him of being a kid and watching the snowfall the night before school, and praying that there’d be a snow day. He watched as she plugged in the Christmas lights, and the sight warmed his chest. “Hot chocolate it is, then,” he grinned. He padded into the kitchen and started rummaging through the cupboards. It didn’t take long to find the hot chocolate mix and a medium sized pan. He filled it up with water, humming Folsom Prison Blues loud enough hopefully for Abby to hear. He leaned his hip against the oven as he turned on the burner, ignoring how normal it all felt.

He glanced over to her, watching as she eased her arm out of her jacket. There was blood on the sleeve of her sweater, but it didn’t look like there was more than before. “How’s your arm feeling?” He asked, quirking a brow in her direction. He knew that his worry might warrant a snarky comment from her, but he didn’t mind. She could call him ‘mom’ all day long if she wanted, as long as she wasn’t bleeding to death. He watched for a couple of moments longer, eyes honing in on the tattoos that splayed across her arms. He looked away after a moment too long, cheeks warming just a little. She didn’t need him ogling her. “You sure you’re going to be handle some bourbon?” He teased, laughing softly. “I mean, I haven’t actually tried bourbon in hot chocolate, but it can’t be terrible. It’s bourbon.”

Brendan sighed heavily, again, realizing that he maybe hadn’t chosen the correct word to refer to their sex. It was more than just nice…but he thought any stronger of a description would be conducive to forming some sort of attachment or have them end up risking their lives to find the nearest gas station that had condoms. Maybe they’d get lucky at some point and end up running into a pack. He’d been lucky so far, who’s to say he wouldn’t continue to be lucky? He spared a glance over to Sarah for a moment, wondering where the journey would take them from here. Sure, he figured they would stay together for now, but there was always a chance for anything happening. Still, he honestly didn’t know if he’d be able to survive on his own and there was an instinct he had to protect Sarah, just so he wouldn’t have to be alone.

He smirked a bit at her comment of running through the streets naked, a huff of a laugh leaving him as he shook his head. “As much as I like the mental image…I’d rather you have a barrier of clothes if we’re going anywhere near those things,” he said honestly. He let his eyes wander over her a few times, as if trying to commit the view of her bared skin to his memory in case he never got a chance to see her like this again. It was a shame, really. Beyond any sort of lust, he really did think she was absolutely gorgeous without clothes. Finally, he managed to tear his eyes away, pushing a hand through his hair as his gaze dropped to the floor in front of him. He almost felt like pouting at the fact that what he wanted now had to come second to survive. Surely, he wasn’t the only one thinking this. To literally run into someone like Sarah and to have to constantly remind himself that the pair of them would only last but so long in the hellish chaos that surrounded them…it just wasn’t fair.

His eyes followed her as she laid back onto the bed, taking his time in laying down next to her. Brendan didn’t even bother climbing under the covers, instead, just laying on top of them. The moment his head fell back against the pillow, he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to get any sleep easily, not even after what they’d done. Propping a hand beneath his head, he kept his gaze on the ceiling, eyes tracing the shadows the lights and blinds were leaving on the ceiling. It only took him a few times of seeing the stretched profile of a zombie passing through the light or an outstretched hand. It was like something straight out of an old-school horror movie, but in that moment, it felt particularly terrifying. For how distracted he had been earlier, it seemed the zombies that surrounded them were the only thing on his mind this time. He shut his eyes with a heavy sigh, trying to keep the panic from rising within him.

Apparently, he managed to fall asleep at some point because the next time he opened his eyes it was light outside and the room was much lighter than it had been the last time he’d glanced around the room. With a soft hum, he sat up in the bed, frowning a bit as he glanced around the room. Nothing had changed in the room and he couldn’t hear movement anywhere else in the house, so that was a bit more reassuring. Slowly, he shuffled over to the window, pushing a hand through his hair as he peeked through the blinds. Much to his surprise, there weren’t but a few zombies shuffling about, compared to the crowds that had been out there earlier. A breath of relief left him and his eyes slipped shut for a moment. They weren’t in the clear yet, but this was a good start.

---

Abby allowed herself to get lost for a moment as she watched the snowflakes flutter and dance outside the window. She could feel the cold radiating off of the glass, but could also feel the warmth of the apartment and blanket surrounding her as well. Her mind was off of the throbbing of her arm, the fact she had been shot, or the fact the world around them was crumbling at the hands of the undead. Instead, she was just focusing on the air going in and out of her lungs and dividing her gaze between outside and the reflection of Kennedy on the glass. Well, if she had to get saddled with someone during an apocalypse, she kind of lucked out in terms of survival buddies. He’d shot someone to save her and seemed genuinely concerned with her well-being. Not to mention, he was a teacher…and funny and cute—everything that would have checked all the right boxes before the world went to shit.

Her gaze snapped from the window to Kennedy and she rolled her eyes playfully. “Definitely not. Unless you’ve loaded me full of liquor, in which case, I’d probably join you,” she retorted with a wry grin. This was easy. This was a nice relief from the worry and panic that had settled over her like a blanket set on smothering her since the beginning of the “outbreak”. Her fingertips brushed through her hair, pushing it back from her face as she studied Kennedy for a few, long moments. She wasn’t the kind of person who easily let others in, but she could feel herself letting her walls down a bit more around him than she normally would someone she’d only known for less than twenty-four hours. Pulling her lips between her teeth, she bit at them for a moment before letting them go and turning back to the window.

“I suppose we should probably see if they have anything edible in here too,” she murmured as he started to plunder the kitchen for hot chocolate and whatever else he needed to make it. “I can’t remember the last time I ate…and if we’re going to be drinking…” She let her voice die off for a moment before she hauled herself off of the window seat and started over to a pantry in the room and pulled it open. Abby clutched the blankets around her shoulders as she looked over everything. There honestly wasn’t much, which was to be expected. Her friends were about to go on vacation, of course they wouldn’t have stocked up on anything. She grabbed a box of sugary cereal, knowing that probably wasn’t the best thing to eat, but it was all that was catching her eye. By the time Kennedy had spoken, she was sitting back on the window seat with her back to the window. She hear him humming softly and it took her a few moments to recognize the song. “Really, Kennedy? Johnny Cash?” She dead-panned, brows lifting slightly before a few soft laughs left her and she shook her head.

She turned back to the window as she opened the box of cereal and grabbed a handful. Dumping a few pieces in her mouth, she chewed slowly, eyes following a particular snowflake as it fluttered past the window. Abby’s attention was drawn away when Kennedy questioned her. She knew he was only asking because he was worried for her, but she couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed that he had to do such a thing. It wasn’t exactly like she chose to be shot, but she didn’t like people worrying over her. “I don’t know, Kennedy,” she replied, managing to sound rather serious, “I think we may have to amputate.” Her serious expression broke into a wide grin. She paused for a moment, glancing down at the bandages that wrapped the wound. “It’s fine, really. I’ve gotten used to it,” she murmured with a small sheepish smile. She took another handful of cereal and chewed on it for a bit. “Of course,” she replied when he questioned her. She thought about it for a moment before shaking her head. “Then again, I kinda just like bourbon straight. Putting hot chocolate with it may end up being a waste.”

Sarah let out a snort of laughter at his response, and rolled her eyes. “Well I’m flattered that you like the mental image,” she said, offering him a faint grin. She would be lying if she said that she wouldn’t like the mental image of him running naked. It was a shame that she’d probably never see him shirtless for long periods of time again. The memory of him naked would be enough to get her through, she supposed. At least her most likely final time having sex was a really, really good one. If everything ever got back to normal, though, she’d never make fun of those horror movies again. She understood why the leads would sometimes have sex out of nowhere. It was easier to focus on that than the impending death and doom that laid before them.

She glanced overt him, his outline easy to see despite the darkness. The streetlights were letting in just enough light to make him out. She wished that the bed would be a little bigger. She wasn’t much of a cuddler in her sleep, but it was still a little weird for her to be lying this close to him after all of that, and still making sure not to touch him. She followed his gaze, watching the shadows move against the wall before she named her eyes shut. She wasn’t going to ruin this and panic, not then. She just needed to sleep. Rolling over to her side, she let out a silent prayer to whatever god was listening. She’d never really believed before, but the Bible had seemed to get the apocalypse pretty close. But in that moment, she prayed that they wouldn’t die. Not yet. Even if this shit-show, she still wanted to live. Just a little longer.

The next thing she knew, there was something shifting on the bed. In her sleep addled mind, it didn’t bother her one bit. She rolled over onto her stomach, letting out a little huff of annoyance. Her alarm hadn’t gone off yet, which meant that she still had some time to sleep. Burying her face into the pillow, she took in a deep breath - and froze. Her pillow didn’t smell like her usual choice of laundry detergent. It was with that thought that everything came barreling back to her. Her stomach sank and she turned her head, cracking an eye open to see him. Brendan was standing near the window, eyes shut. She couldn’t tell if that meant that they were lucky, or screwed.

“How’s it looking?” She asked. Her voice sounded low and crackly. She was confused as to why until she thought back to all the moaning she’d done the night before. That made a lot of sense. She winched as she rolled back over and sat up, tugging her fingers through her hair. It wasn’t too tangled, which was nice. “Think we’ll be able to get out of here?” Her fingers tapped against her leg nervously. The more she woke up, the more the panic was trying to settle in. She looked towards the door, spotting a t shirt there. The t shirt that Brendan had placed there to cover up the blood stain. They’d had sex in the same room where a zombie had been. She felt bile start to rise up in her throat, but she forced it back down. She wasn’t going to start her morning vomiting because of that.

---

“You know, you just take the fun out of everything. It should be illegal to deprive someone of some Michael Jackson,” Kennedy teased, grinning to himself. He needed to get a handle on this. He wasn’t going to be dumb, he already knew that. Sleeping with her was obviously off of the table. That was like, the number one way to get killed in any horror movie ever. On a more realistic note, it’d probably ruin some things. The way he was looking at it, they were going to stick around each other for at least awhile. Having sex would lead to problems. Hell, sex sometimes lead to problems when things were normal, let alone when everything was like this. Sex would complicate things, and Abby had already been shot. The last thing any of them needed was for things to just get complicated.

He shook his head as he heard her get up. “You need to rest. You were shot. Let me look for stuff,” he said, glancing over his shoulder to give her a disapproving frown. He wasn’t sure of it, but he was thinking that if she disturbed the wound too much, it might start to bleed through the medical tape. But then she found some kind of cereal, and he couldn’t hold it against her. Food was food, and that sounded better than nothing. The frown that had settled on his lips was tugging into something of a smirk as she laughed. He shrugged his shoulders, keeping his attention on the pan. “What? Johnny Cash is a legend.” He watched the pan for a moment longer before stepping over to one of the cupboards and started rummaging through them for some mugs.

For a second, he thought that she was being serious. If she didn’t know, then what did that mean? But then she continued on and he turned around, shooting her a scowl. “Fuck off,” he said, scowling for a second or two longer before letting out a low laugh. He cocked a brow at her. “Really? You’ve gotten used to being shot?” That sick feeling in his stomach started back up as he said the words out loud. He wasn’t sure if he’d actually said that yet. He turned back to the cupboards, opening and closing them door by door until he found where they were located at. He just needed to focus on that and not anything else, like the lingering thought that it was his fault she’d been shot. He looked over the mugs carefully. There were a lot, a mishmash of different kinds from places and business, or just ones with funny little sayings on them. He settled on a large blue one with something about Seattle on it for Abby, and found a plain black one for him.

“We can just keep it separate, then. Drink straight from the bottle.” He set the mugs on the counter, and tore open two packs of hot chocolate mix, dumping in one pack per mug. The water was starting to boil, the bubbles tumbling over one another and he decided that it wasn’t done. It wasn’t a rolling boil, like the box had said, but that really didn’t matter. He looked around the kitchen for a moment, trying to guess where the spoons would be. He got it right on the first try, tugging open the drawer closest to the sink and snatched a spoon for each of them. He poured the hot water into the mugs, giving them each a stir, and then decided that they were done. He lifted them up and headed towards Abby, offering her a small smile as he sat them down beside her. He padded over to his backpack, digging in until he grinned victoriously, the bourbon in hand. “Here. I think we deserve this,” he laughed, holding it out towards her.

Brendan barely paid attention to the noises of Sarah slowly waking up in the bed; the intake of a deep breath of air, the slight shifting around that indicated she was about to wake. His focus was more on the fewer zombies that were outside the house they had taken up shelter in. It honestly didn’t look like too much had changed overnight outside of the living dead, and that calmed him down a bit as well. It had snowed, which meant it must have been moderately cold outside. When she finally spoke, he grinned to himself at how she sounded. He figured it could either be as a result of last night or her voice just sounded like that in the morning. He would have liked to have thought it was because of him. He turned to look over at her, watching as she sat up. “Not too bad. Seems like something’s either caught their attention and drawn them away or they’ve just…dispersed,” he told her, glancing back out the window for another few moments.

He drew in a deep breath of air and slowly stepped away from the window, walking back over to the bed and sitting down on the edge of it. “We should probably try to scavenge the house before we leave. See if there’s not a car in the garage and keys somewhere in the house for it or stuff like food…first aide items,” he told her, shooting a look over his shoulder for a moment. As much as he didn’t want to go back outside, he knew they couldn’t stay cooped up in the house forever. Something would eventually come up—be it zombies or other people chasing them away—but they would have to leave. He noted the way her fingers were tapping against her leg and followed her line of sight over to where he’d covered the blood stains on the carpet.

“Hey,” he started softly, feeling some sort of instinctual need to try and keep her morale up. If she started freaking out, he’d probably inevitably freak out and that would end up putting the both of them at risk. “We’re going to be okay, alright? We’ll make this work and we’re going to survive. I mean…we’ve gotten this far, haven’t we?” He offered. It really wasn’t much, when he thought about it. He wasn’t too talented in the art of calming women down or talking them down, but he figured he’d at least give it a shot. He pulled his lips between his teeth, a sigh leaving him as he glanced down at the t-shirt for a moment. If it hadn’t been for her, he would have been dead…or maybe even one of them by now. “I need you in the right mindset…because I’m just barely holding myself together.”

He turned back to her for a moment, watching her for a few lingering moments before he slipped from the bed and over to where he’d left his meat tenderizer and shoes. Slipping into his shoes, he made sure the laces were tied tightly and securely, knowing that now would be the worst time to be tripping over himself. Brendan ran a hand through his hair, shooting another glance to the windows for a moment before drawing in a deep breath of air. “We may want to see about getting thicker jackets, weather gear, stuff like that. It looks like we got at least six inches of snow last night,” he said, turning a glance over to Sarah for a moment and offering her a small smile. He stepped over to the door, beginning to move the furniture they had placed in front of the door carefully and slowly.

---

Abby leveled Kennedy with a stare, brows slightly lifted. She shook her head slowly, a wry grin curling her lips. “Yep, that’s me, fun-sucking Abby,” she quipped with a slight shrug of a single shoulder. “Unless you happen to sound exactly like Michael Jackson or happen to have a way to get me drunk within a matter of seconds…no, no singing,” she continued, shaking her head a bit in response. She tucked a wayward curl behind her ear before glancing out the window once more and oh-so gracefully shoving another handful of dry cereal into her mouth. She crunched down on it slowly, enjoying the light-hearted jesting that was going on between the two of them. They were flirting, she understood that much, but surely they would understand how stupid forming an attraction or attachment to anyone could be. Her head swung back over in his direction as he spoke again, swallowing the food in her mouth before speaking. “Yes, Johnny Cash is a legend. But Folsom Prison Blues is a song about criminals. I thought I said no singing about stuff like that,” she told him bluntly, expression dead-panned before a broad grin curled her features.

She let out a loud laugh at his scowl and the two caustic words he sent in her direction, head tilting back with the force it had left her body with. “Oh c’mon Kenny-boy, I didn’t die. We can afford to have a sense of humor about these things,” she murmured with a grin. A grin that slowly fell after his next question and she looked away for a moment. “I mean…I guess I’ve kinda gotten use to the pain…at least,” she murmured, brow furrowing for a bit as she slipped the blanket from around her shoulder to glance down at the bandages around her upper arm. No blood seemed to be seeping through yet, so she supposed that was a good thing. Her gaze slipped back over to Kennedy, drawing in a deep breath of air as she tugged the blanket back up around her shoulders.

Her gaze lingered on him as he moved around the kitchen, mindlessly eating single pieces of cereal until she decided she would save the rest if Kennedy wanted any. “The best way to drink bourbon, in my opinion,” she retorted in response to him saying they’d just drink out of the bottle instead. She curled the bag the cereal was in up on itself and closed the box, setting it off to the side as she glanced out the window once more and drew in a deep breath of air. The quiet was starting to get to her in the lull between their conversations. She knew she had a tendency to over-talk in situations like this and end up making situations more awkward, especially if Kennedy was enjoying the silence. Abby glanced over to Kennedy as he sat their hot chocolates down and she offered him a small grin. “Thanks,” she said softly, eyes following him as he walked over to his bag.

Stupidly, she let her gaze rake over him for a moment, looking away quickly as a slight flush came to her cheeks and she let out a breath of air. She was certain he was going to catch her either looking at him or catch her flushing as a result of that. As he spoke, she brought her gaze back up to his and grinned at the sight of the bottle of bourbon in his hand. A dry laugh left her as she took it, unscrewing the bottle and taking a large sip. She swallowed it down without pulling a face, screwing the cap back on and extending the bottle back to Kennedy. “We should play one of those stupid drinking games…it’ll at least help us get to know each other a little better,” she said, eyes flickering between his. “And feel free to grab some cereal and eat some. It’s a little stale, but it’s better than nothing, really.”

Sarah didn’t realize that she’d been holding her breath until she let it out at his words. She gave a slow nod, pressing her lips together. They had a chance of leaving the house, which gave her some hope. There was some trepidation too, though. In the house, they were relatively safe. There were walls separating them and the horde. There was probably food, and the heat was still working, which was a fucking miracle. Some higher deity must have thought it was hilarious to make the apocalypse happen during the winter. Sure, in the heat the smell would have been terrible, but surviving would be easier. The heat could kill, but it was livable as long as you had water. In the winter, you needed blankets and thick clothes and boots. She let out a sigh, occupying herself with tugging her fingers through her hair. She was half tempted to look for a hairbrush, but she knew that she wouldn’t be able to use it. It was still too weird for her, to use things that didn’t belong to her.

“Right. Yeah. That’s smart,” she agreed, her voice quiet. She stole a quick glance over to him before looking away. Last night had been fun, but it had caused a bundle of her nerves to well up in her chest, and they hadn’t been there before the prior evening. “If the, uh - “ Her voice caught. She couldn’t actually the say the word ‘zombie’, or acknowledge that the zombie had been a person before all of the this. “ - you know, was still here, that might mean a car is here too.” A car would attract more attention to them, but it’d also be a faster way out. And they needed to get out of suburbia. She’d seen that first episode of The Walking Dead. She’d seen what had happened, which what’s his face - Rick, was it? - had stumbled onto the giant horde in Atlanta. She couldn’t imagine how it would be if they delved deeper into the city. The countryside was their best bet.

She glanced over to him, quirking a brow at him. It took all she had within her not to scoff at their words. They weren’t going to be okay, but it’d be a real dick move of her to say anything. He was trying to console her, which was kind of him. It wasn’t working, but it was kind. “Yeah, we’ll be fine,” she said, shrugging her shoulders before standing up. She walked over to her shoes, tugging them on as he continued to talk. “I’m in the right mindset. I’m fine.” Her mind drifted to when that thing had come barreling out of the room and she’d froze. He’d given her the truth, and it had made her pissed off. But he was right, even if she was a little annoyed by his reminder. She needed to be in the right mindset, and not just for her. She tugged her shoes on, just slipping her toes in and digging her heel around until it went in.

Her fingers wrapped around the base of the bat. Turning towards him, she regarded him for a moment. It was surreal, for them to be getting weapons the morning after. “Are you kidding me? It snowed?” She questioned, letting out a huff of air at the thought. That just made things even better. She stepped out of his way and headed towards the window to look out. Despite her misgivings about taking and using what wasn’t hers, she was going to need a winter jacket. The snow looked deep and heavy, the kind that clung to everything. Normally, the sight would have excited her. She loved the snow as a kid, and it always felt special to see it fall. But that kind of wonder and awe was long gone. “You need some help, moving that?” She asked, looking over her shoulder at him.

---

Kennedy tilted his head at her for a moment, a slow smirk twitching at the corners of his lips. “Is that what they called you in school?” He asked, holding the smirk for a couple of seconds longer before letting out a soft laugh. “For all you know, I could sound exactly like Michael Jackson whenever I sing.” He didn’t sound like Michael Jackson when he song. A friend of his had once described his singing as something that sounded like a cat fucking another cat in a blender. The thought made him duck his head and grin at the memory. He wondered if he’d ever see Ben again, or if he’d get to hear him rant about music. The man had been as pretentious as they’d come, but somehow he and Kennedy got along ridiculously well. He cocked a brow at her as he raised his head, grinning at her. It was a picturesque scene with her sitting on the window seat, the blue and white christmas lights making everything seem soft and pretty as the snow fell behind her. Her grin just added to it. “I wasn’t singing, though. I was humming. Two totally different things.”

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the nickname. He’d only allowed a rare few to call him Kenny, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her not to call him that. She’d gotten shot that night, and it was because of him (probably) and now she was practically trying to cheer him up about it. “I’ll be able to afford having a sense of humor about it once we make it out the city.” That might have been a lie. He knew for sure that he wouldn’t be able to laugh or joke about it until they were out of the city, but he suspected that it might take longer than that. Maybe once the wound had fully healed and she’d been alive and well for longer than that. Maybe then, but probably not. “You want some of those painkillers? The cereal counts as eating something. It might help,” he suggested, gaze following the movement of the blanket as it shifted down from her shoulder. He lingered, watching her for a moment before looking away.

“You mean you’re not one of those people who demand it in a fancy glass?” He teased, shooting her a quick grin. He wondered what she’d been like, before all of this. At first, he’d gotten an almost shy vibe from her, but she seemed to be warming up to him fairly well. He could chalk that up to the situation at hand. Emergencies forced people to have to interact, and bond faster than usual. His gaze softened a little at her thanks, and the sight of her grin. He wondered what would have happened if he hadn’t noticed her through her apartment window. Would she have managed to get away? Maybe that would even out her getting shot in the eyes of karma, or whatever it was.

For a moment, Kennedy could have sworn that she was flushing. He’d caught sight of her looking away, but he wasn’t sure what she’d been looking at in the first place. So he merely cocked a brow in her direction, but kept silent. She didn’t need him poking at that. Flirting was one thing. He wasn’t going to let it lead any further. He stepped back towards her, sitting down on the opposite side of the window seat as she took a sip. She didn’t even flinch, which was impressive. He took it back and had a large drink himself, the liquid burning his throat. “What game are you thinking of?” He asked, grinning. “I’m good on the cereal right now. Thanks, though.” He settled the bourbon bottle carefully against the window pane before reaching for his hot chocolate. He took a sip, sighing at the taste - but mostly the warmth. “I think the only drinking game I know is never have I ever. I think. In college I’d just drink a ton in a short amount of time and get hammered,” he laughed.

Brendan pushed a hand through his hair, wondering just what would happen to the two of them when they stepped outside of this house. Where exactly would they go? Clearly, they wouldn’t be going toward the city—to go towards where the majority of the population lived was a stupid move. No, they would have to go out to the countryside. Not only would they have a better chance of survival away from from people(which meant less zombies, hopefully) there would hopefully be a way for them to get food easier. People generations before them had survived farming the lands and hunting the animals they needed. Brendan didn’t really have a grasp on how exactly they would be going about doing that; he could barely keep houseplants alive and he’d never even really learned how to shoot a gun or bow-and-arrow. He figured they would have to figure that out at some point….some point later. Now, he needed to focus on getting them out of this house safely.

His eyes darted over to Sarah for a moment, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as flashes of the night before ran through his mind. Maybe their actions had only complicated things. The women he’d slept with on a whim; he never really had to…be around them for much longer than just the act itself. Now they had to interact with each other, keep an eye out for each other. He didn’t really regret it, but he did know that by sleeping together, that would always be the elephant in the room. He did stand by what he’d said when he’d mentioned the fact that they probably would never run across any more condoms really sucked. “Yeah, I guess we’ll just have to see what we can find. Hopefully, the car’s got a decent amount of gas in it,” he murmured, hopefully he was sounding more realistic than pessimistic. “Do you know anywhere we could go? Anywhere away from the city?” He asked, glancing over to Sarah.

He knew that his attempts at keeping Sarah level-headed probably hadn’t worked or only just made her miffed at him. Yes, it may have seemed slightly selfish of him to worry about her because her freaking out in turn affected him, but getting hysterical wouldn’t do either of them any favors. Brendan’s eyes focused on her for a few moments as she spoke, as if he were trying to figure out if she really meant what she was saying or not. Instead of questioning her, and potentially getting her mad at him, he merely nodded at her words and drew in a deep breath of air. “Yeah…yeah, we’ll be fine,” he said. He wasn’t sure if he were trying to reassure her or the both of them. Brendan spared a glance around the room, making sure they weren’t leaving anything behind after they left the room. He was sure that neither of them would want to come back to this room once they left it.

“I wish I was kidding, but no…it’s a decent amount of snow. Enough to either slow them down or slow us down,” he murmured, rubbing one of his eyes with a free hand. “Let’s hope that there’s no ice or that whoever owned this house before has four-wheel drive,” he added, knowing that depending on the type of car they found in the garage, they would either have to decide to risk driving in the snow or go it on foot. He could only hope that they wouldn’t have to go with the latter option. He’d feel much safer in an enclosed vehicle. His gaze wandered over to Sarah as she stepped over to the window, watching her to see what her reaction would be to the snow outside. He offered her a small smile as she turned to look at him. “Yeah, if you wouldn’t mind. My legs are a bit sore from all the running and…stuff—from yesterday,” he murmured. He was going to blame it on running as hard as he had the day before. He stopped trying to shove the dresser out of the way, setting the meat tenderizer he’d chosen as a weapon on the bed for a moment.

---

Abby went to reply to Kennedy without a second thought to what he was saying. However, when she turned to look at him and noted his expression, she paused for a moment—her mouth was opened slightly and her brow was furrowed slightly. Suddenly what he’d said sunk in and a rosy flush came to her cheeks. Instead of replying, she merely pulled her lips between her teeth and let out a short hum in response. She’d walked headfirst into that one and she knew that trying to backtrack would only make things worse. Instead of dwelling on the fact a bright blush was burning away at her cheeks, she focused on the next thing he said. “Somehow I highly doubt that,” she told him, turning to bring a doubtful gaze to his before she let out a soft laugh. Pushing a hand through her hair as she tried to will away the flush at her cheeks, she drew in a deep breath of air, eyes trailing over him for a moment. “Yes, but it was the insinuation behind the song,” she retorted, shaking her head a bit at him.

Running her tongue over her lips, she tugged the blanket higher up around her neck as the heating in the building kicked off. Again, she was vaguely reminded that the electricity couldn’t stay on forever. What would they do if they couldn’t duck into buildings for warmth or illuminate a room at the flick of a light switch. At what Kennedy said next, she merely looked over at him, a slight frown pulling at her lips for a moment until she glanced away. She hadn’t the slightest clue how they were going to make it out of the city. And even then, they’d still have to cut through the suburbs to get anywhere even relatively desolate and safe. The idea of having to go through such a heavily residential area gave her a sense of uneasy. Would they really be able to survive this or would they meet their end sooner rather than later? She found herself gnawing anxiously at her bottom lip when he brought her attention back to him. “No, maybe in the morning. I don’t want to mix booze and whatever medications we thought to grab,” she murmured before adding, “Thank you, though.”

A dramatic frown curled her features at his next question and she pulled a face. “Do I look like a fancy kind of girl, Kennedy?” She asked, shaking her head a bit. “I worry more about the taste of things than being proper and drinking from a glass.” Rubbing a hand at the back of her neck, she breathed out slowly, stretching her neck to either side before she reached out and grabbed the mug of hot chocolate he’d made for her. She wrapped her hands around the mug, savoring the warmth radiating from it for a moment before taking a sip of it. Her eyes slipped shut and she let out a soft hum, body slowly reacting from what was such a small comfort. Immediately, she took another sip, sinking a bit more comfortably into the window seat.

She was relieved that Kennedy either hadn’t noticed the flush on her cheeks or was choosing not to say anything. If he’d said anything, it’d just make the situation infinitely worse and she’d probably end up making a jumbled-up ass out of herself. When he sat down beside her, her gaze followed him for a moment. Vaguely, she found herself enjoying the way the Christmas lights illuminated him in a pale blue-white light. A small smile curled her lips before she hid it behind another sip of her hot chocolate before placing the mug aside. “Well…’Never have I Ever’ is a pretty damn good way of getting any deep, dark, and embarrassing secrets out of the way. Or just getting completely hammered,” she said, shrugging a shoulder as she reached out and grabbed the bourbon bottle. Her eyes wandered over it for a moment before lifting her gaze to meet his. “I’ll go first,” she said, wearing a small grin. She paused a beat, trying to think of a decent scenario to start with. “Okay…never have I ever…woken up someplace without having any recollection of how I got there,” she said softly. Abby waited a few moments before unscrewing the cap from the bottle and taking a decent-sized swig, wearing a sheepish sort of grin.

Sarah gave a shrug of her shoulders as she mulled over the question. Anywhere they could go? She didn’t know of any specifics. There were family members that lived in the middle of nowhere, but they all lived anywhere from three to ten hours away. Everyone else had lived in and around the city, and that was just a bad idea in general. “I don’t know. Our best bet would be to just get as far away from here as possible, then stick to back roads until we find something.” Once they got out of the city, it was mostly farmlands and houses. Maybe they’d luck out and some family had abandoned their house or something. Even a small town would be better than where they were at. “On the news, they mentioned something about safe areas. But it, uh, all cut out before they could say where.” Which was just their luck, really. She wasn’t even sure if that had been true. Towards the end, it was as though they were just saying whatever they thought would placate the masses, because the army hadn’t come in guns blazing to save everyone. There was no one coming in to save them.

There was a dull roar of panic bubbling within her chest, but she was able to ignore it. Most of that panic had been lurking since she’d first left her home. It would have been smarter for her to head towards the countryside, but in her blind fear, she’d thought that heading towards the city had been a good idea. Her parents were there. Her grandparents were there. Some aunts, uncles, and scattered cousins lived there too. But she’d gotten as far as the suburban neighborhood before it had gotten too much. She’d dealt with the panic then, though, and she’d deal with it now. She bit down on her lip as he spoke, sighing softly. She doubted that they’d be fine.

“Fucking hell,” she said. This was ridiculous. Maybe this was their punishment. They’d had sex while it was apocalyptic hell on earth, and now they had to deal with the snow because of it. It just sucked. “There be an SUV in that garage,” she murmured under her breath. She hoped that the previous owner hadn’t been someone who liked those luxury cars. They were nice to look at, but most of them probably got to be shit once they hit ice or snow. She gave a short nod of her head and headed over, laying the bat against the wall. She frowned as she thought about his explanation. Stuff. So that’s what they’d be calling it. She was starting to remember every single reason why sleeping with him had been a bad idea. For one, it would have created tension between them. She headed over to the other side of the dresser, grasping either side of it.

It only took her a moment of thinking about it before she started to speak, the words coming out in an almost rush. “Can we talk about last night?” Her cheeks burned, but she needed to plow on. “If we’re going to be stuck together, we probably shouldn’t let this be awkward. Because you calling it ‘stuff’ just makes it even worse and we might kill each other before anything else gets to us.” At some point during her words she’d ducked her head. It was hard enough having to say them, let alone having to look him in the eyes while talking about it. “We had decent sex because neither of us wanted to just lay awake and freak out all night. That’s all.” Holy shit, she was rambling. She needed to stop.

---

Kennedy couldn’t help but grin, wide and toothy, as her cheeks flushed. There had been a second or two where he’d regretted saying something like that to her, but apparently the tease was alright. Although, he was a little disappointed that she actually hadn’t said anything in response. “Hey, you never know. But since you doubt me so much, I’ll never prove it to you one way or another,” he laughed. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever have the guts to actually sing anything around her. It was honestly awful. He gave a shrug of his shoulders as he thought over a better response. “But you only said singing. You didn’t say anything about humming. There’s a huge difference between the two.” He had siblings - two older brothers. He could play the arguing game for hours and never give up, much to the chagrin of his parents. “So by your rules, I should be allowed to hum whatever song I want, even if it’s about criminals.”

He was hoping that they made it out of the city soon, maybe even by tomorrow evening. It wasn’t very far to the freeway, only a couple of miles. If they left early enough, they should be able to make it there by lunch time. And they could even be driving away before nightfall. As much as he wanted to try and imagine just how far they could get, he wouldn’t let himself. Odds were that they wouldn’t make it to an actual place to stay for another couple of days unless they lucked upon some abandoned house. After their run-in in the grocery store, he didn’t want to risk asking to stay with anyone else. As far as he was concerned, the only people they could trust were each other. “That’s a good idea. I didn’t even think about that,” he murmured. Thank God she’d thought about it. “You sure your arm isn’t hurting as much?” He asked, pulling his lower lip between his teeth. He’d take the pain somehow if he could. There probably wouldn’t be a whole lot of sleeping that night, between her injury and his worry.

“Uh, yeah? You could be,” he said, speaking slow. He felt as though there was a wrong answer to that question, but he wasn’t sure what it was exactly. He could imagine Abby dressed up in a pretty dress with some heels and jewelry easily. But he could also imagine her lounging on a couch in a t shirt and sweatpants, arguing with him about - Nope. Not going to imagine that. Literally imagining her doing anything was not okay. “Thank God. I dated this one girl that screamed at me because I offered her wine in a cup instead of a wine glass.” Dated was a strong word, but he felt a little embarrassed about saying anything close to the truth - which was just casual sex. But she didn’t need to know that much. He let out a low laugh at the memory. “She thought I was uncultured because I didn’t own any wine glasses, either. Jesus, that’s insane.”

He settled back into his seat, taking another sip of his hot chocolate as he leaned back against the wall. The window seat was comfortable, which surprised him. He’d never actually sat in one before, but it was nice. “We’re going to get trashed, I can feel it,” he said, grinning at her. He let out a snort of laughter at her first one, grinning as she took a sip. He held out his hand for the bottle, knowing that he’d have to take a long swig on that one. “Pass it here, please.” He tried to remember all of the rules to never have I ever, which were a bit fuzzy at the moment. After college, he and his friends had stopped playing the drinking games as much, instead opting to just drink without shame. “So do we have to elaborate if we did do the thing? Because I really want to know what happened with you,” he laughed.

Brendan sighed heavily at the sight of her just give a shrug of her shoulders. Instead of saying anything, he managed to bite his tongue and push his irritation to the side. While it came off to him as her being flippant about where they should go, he knew that her mind could have been miles away. It could have been on any family members she was worried about, any friends she knew weren’t going to make it. When she finally spoke, his eyes flittered over to her, nodding slowly as she spoke. “Back roads,” he repeated, “That’s a smart idea.” He ran a hand over his chin, trying to get his thoughts straight but it was a bit difficult so soon after he’d woken up. “I suppose we can just keep heading south. The further away from the city, they safer we’ll be, right?” He spared a glance to Sarah, pulling his lips between his teeth for a moment and sighing heavily. “Fuck…I need a drink,” he murmured, running his hands over his face and shaking his head. He focused on the t-shirt on the floor for a moment, his gaze narrowing slightly at the mention of safe areas. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t know how much I’d trust them. One infected person gets in and…” His voice died off, hoping that nobody either of them knew would be subjected to something his mind was supplying.

Was it bad that he wasn’t even trying to get to his parents and to make sure they were safe? He knew it would pretty much be a suicide mission to try and get to them. He felt like shit for not wanting to try, but what if he got there and they were already dead? Risking his life wouldn’t have even been worth it. Then there was Sarah. He knew he couldn’t exactly drag her along, not when she was sure to have parents that she would have been equally as worried about. Brendan studied Sarah for a few moments, wondering if she were having similar thoughts to the ones that he were having. No, it wouldn’t do to worry himself with thinking about others who he wasn’t even sure were dead or alive. He and Sarah were alive now and he intended on keeping that way.

His gaze snapped over to Sarah as she spoke, nodding in agreement at what she’d said. Maybe it had been stupid for them to coop up in some house instead of getting out of there as soon as they possibly could. Now they had a couple of inches of snow to deal with and he had no idea what kind of car was waiting for them in the garage…if they were any car waiting for them. His stomach sank suddenly with that realization and his eyes slipped shut for a moment. “I honestly just hope there’s a car,” he said, shooting Sarah a glance. “Anything has to be better and safer than trying to make it on foot. Not to mention, it’d be faster,” he murmured, running an anxious hand through his hair. His gaze followed her as she stepped over to the other side of the dresser, waiting until she grasped it to start shifting it away from the door.

When he placed it down, she started talking and he stared at her for a few moments over the top of the dresser. Oh God, here comes the dreaded talk about last night. He knew that it needed to happen though. “Yeah,” he replied, noting the slight color on her cheeks. He kept his gaze on her for a few moments as she spoke, looking away at the mention that they might end up killing each other. “I’m sorry,” was the only thing that was coming to his mind to say. “I just…I didn’t know if it’d make you more uncomfortable by flat out saying we fucked,” he continued, shrugging his shoulders and giving her a sheepish sort of grin. He glanced away from her as she ducked her head, brows lifting slightly as she continued to speak. “Well…that may be true and all…but I’d say the sex was a bit better than decent,” he told her, eyes flickering up to meet hers for a moment. He stared at her for a moment or two before shaking his head. The last thing he needed was for the two of them to go out of their way to find condoms. Without another word, he turned to the door and slowly pulled it open.

---

Abby tried her best to look off-put at the look that Kennedy was shooting in her direction, but the tiniest of grins kept threatening to curl the corner of her lips. He was bad news for her and she knew it. He was clever and charming and had probably the most infectious grins she’d ever seen in her life. If things were normal, she could see herself falling for him…and fast. Instead of lingering too long with her thoughts, she focused on what he said next and rolled her eyes playfully. “You say that now. I’d imagine from what you’ve told me, if I supplied you with enough tequila, you’d do just about anything for me,” she told him with a sly little grin. A grin that quickly fell at the next thing that he said. She stared at him for a few moment, lips twisted to the side for a few moments before she rolled her eyes. “Jesus, remind me not to give you any loopholes to exploit,” she murmured wryly. “I suppose humming is okay,” she said with a rather immature scoff.

She kept her gaze on Kennedy a few moments longer before looking back out the window and sighing heavily. It was snowing even harder than the last time she had looked and a frown curled her features. That was only going to make things harder for them the more that fell. Not only would it make things colder, but it’d inhibit their movement too. The only good thing that could happen with more snow would be it’d slow the zombies down too. That might not be too terrible after all. Her gaze swung over to him as he spoke, brows lifting slightly and a small grin curling her features. “I have those from time to time,” she said in a lofty voice, pushing a hand through her hair as she settled back a bit more snugly against the window seat, “I mean, I am a doctor, after all.” Her grin fell a little bit as he questioned her on if her arm wasn’t hurting as much. “I’m sure,” she told him softly, offering what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry so much. You’re going to give yourself grey hair,” she added teasingly, though she secretly hoped that he would stop worrying…at least about her.

Her brows lifted slightly as he replied to her and it took all her self-control to not laugh outright at how noncommittal his reply was. Instead, she drew in a deep breath of air through her nose, the corners of her lips wobbling slightly. Abby pulled her lips in and bit them to keep herself from laughing before she contained herself enough to reply. “I guess that’s fair enough,” she murmured with a small shrug. A laugh finally did escape her at the thought of a woman yelling at someone for serving wine in a cup. She then realized that laughing out loud may have been a touch insensitive and she clasped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. Women can be…odd,” she said, another laugh leaving her as she shook her head a bit. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment, brows lifting at what he said next. “What a pompous bitch,” she murmured to herself, shaking her head slowly. “I’m definitely not that bad. I mean…I’m pretty much known for doing the equivalent of a keg stand with boxed wine. Which is something that most women would balk at,” she told him with a roll of her eyes.

“Yes, well,” she started in reply to his comment on them getting trashed, “after the day we’ve had, I’d say we deserve it.” She gave a small shrug of her shoulders, watching Kennedy closely. A sly grin curled her lips as he asked for the bottle and she gladly handed it over to him. She took her hot chocolate back in hand and took a sip of it. A soft hum left her as she looked over at him. She supposed there would be no harm in telling him embarrassing stories from a not so distant past. “Well…it’s happened more than once. But I’d have to say the funniest time was…I think…two Halloweens ago. Started the night as the Little Mermaid…ended up on a park bench halfway across town wearing a taco costume over my other costume the next morning. My friends said I wanted to start up my own food truck selling fish tacos and ran out of the party. I have no memory of what I did from point A to point B, they have no recollection of where I got the taco costume but…I didn’t die…so I guess it was okay.” She shot Kennedy a sheepish sort of smile. “What about you? What’s your story?” She asked before taking another sip of her hot chocolate.

“I mean, I’ve got some family in the country, but they’re a couple of hours away.” Sarah sighed, her eyes slipping shut for a moment as she thought it over. On a good day with little traffic, she’d be around fifteen minutes from her parents, from where they were. She was so close to them, but it still wasn’t enough. If they did get out alive, there wasn’t a guarantee that she’d ever see them again. It wouldn’t be like she’d able to just pick up the phone and call them. “Yeah. Once we get out of here, there shouldn’t be as many,” she murmured. She wasn’t even sure about that. Logically, it would make sense that there wouldn’t be as many, but it was just too hard to tell. “You and me both,” she said, huffing out a laugh. What she would give to just be trashed then, and be able to ignore everything else that was going on outside. She made a mental note to raid their cabinets for any alcohol. Just in case. “But they’d have food there, right? Or weapons? Or… something?” Or just other people that could remind them that they weren’t the only two living people on the planet.

What if they were it? What if this was it and they were stuck together? Granted, they weren’t actually stuck together. She didn’t have to hang around with him, and vice versa. But she was safer with him around. They could actually talk to each other, and keep their morale up. But she wasn’t sure what would happen down the road when it had only been the two of them for so long. He wasn’t the worst person to be stuck with. He seemed to have a knack for making her a little annoyed at times, but he was decent enough. He was good in bed, at least - which didn’t mean much, but it was something. Maybe they could become actual friends, and not get sick of each other too much before they died. Maybe they’d even make it through the winter and summer would be much easier. Thriving was out of the question to her, but they might be able to survive for awhile longer.

“It’s a nice house, though,” she began, struggling to keep her thoughts positive. “Odds are that whoever locked him in there was family, and they had to at least have had two cars. It’s suburbia. Everybody has two cars.” Everybody has two cars that can drive through the snow and keep it full with gas, she said silently. It was almost childish, in a way. There was a chance that if she kept repeating those statements over and over, they’d be true. They could actually drive a good distance and have the heat on in the car and make it out there without even a scratch. It could have been their lucky shot. “It’d take forever to get out of here on foot,” she murmured. There were enough zombies around that they wouldn’t be able to move freely. And moving at night was totally out of the question.

She leaned her hip against the dressed after they’d placed it down, and she regarded him for a couple of seconds, waiting for his reaction. It wasn’t the worst reaction she’d ever seen. Although her stomach dipped at the sight of his grin. “Saying we fucked is better than calling it ‘stuff’. That’s just weird,” she said, allowing herself to laugh softly. She felt her shoulders relax, the tension leaving them as she watched him. “Yeah. A bit better than decent,” she said, thinking back to the night before. Flashes crossed her mind, and she blinked them away. She reached over for her bat, gripping the base as he opened the door. “I left my backpack in the office last night, when I heard you come in. Did you want to go downstairs and check while I grab it?”

---

Kennedy shot her a smug grin at the look on her face. It was almost too easy to get caught up in all of this. On literally any other night, this would have been perfect post-date aesthetic. Both of them sitting on a window seat, drinking hot chocolate and bourbon while they looked over the snow drifting to the ground. The blue and white Christmas lights making everything soft and nice. It was almost ridiculous. “No, I’d just cry a lot and get really emotional. If you want me to do anything for you, that’s probably vodka. Or long island iced teas. Those things suck,” he said with a laugh. His grin widened even more as hers fell, and he laughed. “I should’ve been a lawyer.” His oldest brother was the lawyer in the family, which had placated their father more than enough. And Kennedy was fine with that. He loved arguing about stupid things, but anything beyond that made him feel a little sick. “Well thank you for giving me permission to hum. I really appreciate it,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his words.

He took a sip of his hot chocolate as he followed her gaze, frowning at the sight of the snow. They were still at least two or three miles from the freeway. Which wasn’t terrible, but the snow would slow them down. Granted, it’d affect the zombies too, but he wasn’t sure how great their sense of balance was. What if zombies, while also undead, were also given the git of great balance? They might be fucked if that was the case. He ducked his head, laughing softly before pressing his lips together. Hot doctor. Right. “Can you be a criminal in your profession? I feel like it’d either be really cool or really bad for doctors to be criminals.” He was grinning at her as he raised his head, although it felt a little as she spoke. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen. I worry,” he said with a shrug. He hesitated for a moment before saying, “Hey, I’d probably look good with gray hair.”

It was hard to determine just what she was thinking. Maybe she didn’t think she was fancy like that, but coming right out and saying that she wasn’t at all had seemed a bit rude. But she seemed happy enough with the answer, and entertained at the next topic. He grinned at her, instantly shaking his head as she apologized. “Seriously, don’t apologize. She was fucking weird,” he said, laughing quietly at the memory. He’d had his share of interesting women, but that was one woman that had definitely stood out to him. “I should’ve seen it coming, though. She used the phrase ‘poor people’ a lot. There were a lot of red flags.” He watched her for a moment longer, eyes widening at her words. “Okay, I don’t care how impractical it is. If I find a box of wine, I want to watch you do that.” He almost continued on and said something dumb, about how impressive and kind of hot that was, but he was getting better with watching what he said.

The more Abby talked, the more Kennedy liked her. She was funny and smart and cute and seemed to drink almost as much as he did. She’d gotten shot just awhile before and was now sitting in front of him, laughing and drinking bourbon. It was surreal. “Holy shit, that’s amazing. So you ended up as a mermaid inside a taco. You literally became a fish taco. That’s… That’s incredible,” he said as he started to laugh. He clapped his hand over his mouth as he struggled to keep it down. Once the laughter subsided, he started to think. “So, it’s happened more than once with me too. But one of the worst times was after finals in my junior year of college, right before summer.” He started to crack himself up as he remembered the before and after. “So we were all ready to get absolutely wasted. All I remember is a bunch of us starting off at this bar, and the next thing I know my best friend and I are being woken up my some dude poking us with a shovel -” He paused, his cheeks flushing a little at the memory. “- because we’d somehow fallen asleep naked on his lounge chairs by his pool. That was enclosed with a fence. And we never found our clothes.”

Brendan studied Sarah at the mention of family she had in the country. Would they be able to drive for a couple of hours without hitting any sort of road block or endless hoard of zombies? He drew in a deep breath of air before running his tongue over his lips. “Do you think they would have tried to go to some shelter or do you think it’s worth a shot trying to get to them?” He questioned. If they had a destination in mind, it’d make things a lot easier for them. They’d know which direction they’d have to head in, hopefully they would know which roads to take, and it would give them a definitive point to stop. “This neighborhood has to have more than one exit, right? Isn’t there some sort of stipulation incase one entryway is blocked? So, if we can’t get out one way, there’s got to be another we can try,” he said, purely thinking and planning out-loud. A crooked grin curled his lips at what she said next. “Well…whenever we get to some place safe, I’ll hold you to a drink, alright?” He told her, eyes flickering over her for a moment. He scratched at his chin, frowning at the stubble there before thinking over her question. “They would. But imagine what would happen if some infected person got it and turned in the middle of the night. Or if the wrong people were running the place,” he told her, eyes set on hers. “I’d rather hedge my bets all alone.”

Pushing a hand through his hair, he drew in a deep breath of air, trying to keep himself from panicking. He knew he was teetering on the edge of a breakdown, finding it hard to swallow down the fear and anxiety that had been bubbling within him since they’d put on their clothes the previous night. His gaze flickered around the room, some small part of him wanting to just curl up in a corner, but he knew that would mean becoming a sitting duck and asking for someone or something to attack him. When Sarah spoke, he turned to her for a moment. “You’re right. I’m just hoping this person wasn’t into just having showy cars instead of practical ones,” he murmured, shaking his head a bit. He blew out a large sigh when she spoke of traveling on foot and he squeezed his eyes shut at the thought. “I mean…I guess we’d have to weather through it if it happened…but shit…I really don’t want to have to,” he told her, shaking his head.

He pulled his lips between his teeth for a moment as he kept his gaze on her, glad that when she replied it didn’t seem like she was freaking out at him. That was good. He didn’t think he could deal with a hysterical woman at the moment. “Yes, but ‘stuff’ is way better than calling it ‘bumping uglies’ or some stupid shit like that,” he told her with a humored expression. He really appreciated the fact that they could still find something to keep their mind off of whatever was going on outside of the house they had called a shelter for the night. He spared another once over of her when she spoke about the previous night, a smirk curling his lips as he chose not to say anything in reply. Brendan’s gaze slipped down to the bat for a moment. “Yeah, I can do that,” he told her with a nod. “Just keep an ear out…in case I find something,” he added softly. He spared her one last look before nodding again and starting back out of the room.

His shoes padded softly across the floor, his grip getting acclimated to the weight of the meat tenderizer in his hand once more. His bottom lip worried its way between his teeth as he quietly crept down the stairs and stopped at the landing for a moment. Brendan’s gaze was directed out the front windows of the house, making sure he didn’t see any signs of movement before continuing down the rest of the stairs and making a turn to leave the foyer quickly. He wasn’t sure how many windows were in the house, or how many of them weren’t covered and were ground level, so he figured playing it safe was the best bet. Quietly, he stepped through what he assumed was the living room into the dining room, trying to mentally lay out how many rooms there were upstairs with a possible number of rooms downstairs. He couldn’t hear anything moving around the house and it didn’t seem like anything had been overturned, so he hoped the rest of his search would prove to turn up empty.

---

Abby finally let a grin curl her features, shaking her head at Kennedy a few times before distracting herself with the string lights overhead as she took another sip of her hot chocolate before it got cold. The thought that this could be the last time she enjoyed such a small comfort grounded her again, bringing to light the direness of their situation. When he spoke again, a small teasing smile curled her lips as she tapped her fingertips against the sides of the ceramic mug. “I’ll make a mental note of that and scour where ever I can for both tequila and vodka,” she said, letting out a soft laugh. “See, I’ve always steered way clear of Long Island Iced Teas for that very reason. Too much different liquor in one drink without it being a shooter or a shot,” she said, pulling a bit of face and shaking her head a bit. Her head tilted to the side slightly as she studied him for a few moments. “Perhaps you should have. Though, to be honest, lawyers aren’t as fun as teachers are…at least in my book,” she told him with a slight shrug of her shoulders. She lifted a brow at the sarcastic tone he’d taken up with her and she shot him a look. “I can take away that permission too if you use that tone with me again,” she threatened playfully, poking a finger at his chest.

Pushing her unruly hair over to one side, she ducked a bit further into her blankets, yawning a bit before taking another sip of her hot chocolate. Abby was honestly exhausted, but she knew that sleep was far out of her grasp. Unless she got so shit-faced she forgot everything, she didn’t see where she’d be sleeping at all. Her brow furrowed slightly as he questioned her and she shook her head slowly. “I don’t know. I suppose it depends on what kind of crime a doctor commits. I wouldn’t exactly count lock-picking as related to how well a doctor could diagnose a patient or not. I’m sure lots of doctors are good at stupid illegal shit,” she murmured. She merely shot him a look when he mentioned how he was a worrier and she could blame him. She was a worrier too, but telling him not to was worth a shot. “Oh, yeah. You with grey hair would definitely have all your students tripping over themselves to get some after-school, one-on-one tutoring,” she commented with a sly grin.

“Yeah…I guess we all have that one weird…fling or ex that you pray never to cross paths with again,” she murmured with a roll her of eyes before she took another sip of her hot chocolate. For Abby, that list wasn’t too many. Hell, she could count her exes on one hand. She didn’t necessarily pick the best people to date, which probably stemmed from her having a tendency of falling too hard and too fast for people before seeing what they truly were like. Her brows lifted as he continued on about the woman, a sharp laugh of disbelief leaving her. “Shit. She seemed like mega-bitch,” she said softly, shaking her head slowly. She almost commented on someone like her getting a reality check with the way things were now, but decided against it. The last thing Abby wanted to do was drag the conversation down. A small, slightly sheepish grin curled her lips as he spoke next and she ducked her head a bit. “It’s…really stupid,” she said, lifting a hand nervously to the back of her neck.

She was pleased when say just how much her story entertained him. It felt a little less like he was laughing at her and rather laughing with her. It was a pretty funny story. “Apparently, drunk Abby is ten times more witty than sober Abby,” she said with a roll of her eyes and a wry grin, “which is probably why people constantly try to get me to drink with them.” She pulled her lips between her teeth as he recollected his story, eyes shifting between his as she took another sip of hot chocolate. Her mouth turned up at the corners at the fact he couldn’t even get through the story without laughing at it and a wide smile was curling her lips by the end of it. A few snickers of laughter left her before he finished telling the story, but she manage to keep anything louder than that in until he finished. And, oh, what a finish it was. “Wow. Naked and no sign of clothes. You must be quiet the exhibitionist when provided enough liquor. Not to mention that walk of shame the two of you, bare naked, must’ve have taken back,” she said, laughing softly afterwards. “Poor man must’ve gotten an eyeful when all he wanted to do was yard work or some shit.” Abby giggled to herself for a moment or two longer before nodding toward the bottle of bourbon in his grasp. “Your turn.”

Sarah thought over it for a moment. It was hard to try and figure out what they would do. She wasn’t particularly close with any of them, but they wouldn’t hesitate to take them in. “They’re pretty far out in the country. I can’t imagine that they would have tried to leave.” Her aunt and uncle might have left to go try and find their son who was in college up in Michigan, but he might have already made it home for winter break. “They might not be there, but it’s probably worth a shot. I know where they hide their house key,” she said, cracking a faint smile. They had one of those weird face sculpture things that you would hang on a tree. The key was behind the left eye. “There has to be one. It’s big enough that there’s got to be at least two,” she said. Or at least, she hoped that there was more than one exit, just in case something happened. “Good,” was all she said, smirking faintly at him. A drink might not have been the smartest thing for them since they’d had sex while sober, but it was something to look forward to. “Yeah, but… Being alone for the rest of your life isn’t going to be that great,” she murmured, watching him for a moment before looking away.

She watched as he mussed his hair, and wondered if it was a nervous habit. She had plenty of nervous habits, and fiddling with her hair made up at least six of them. He didn’t seem panicky on the outside, but she’d remembered the previous night. She didn’t know him that well, but it’d make sense if he would try to hide his fear under some bravado or just any other emotion. “The house isn’t nice enough for him to have a flashy car,” she said, her words falling flat. For all they knew, the owner could have been seven figures in debt with no way out. Maybe there was some real expensive, shiny car just sitting in there, totally useless. “We can deal with whatever happens, okay?” She realized that he might need some encouraging, like he’d tried to do for her earlier. “We can do this, Brendan.”

Weirdly enough, talking about them having slept with each other was a more welcome conversation than encouragements about surviving the apocalypse. “Bumping uglies? What are you, twelve?” She asked, laughing a little. “You could have just called it what it is. Getting laid. Sleeping together. There’s way more ways to say it than stuff. Or bumping uglies.” She let out a quiet snort at the phrase. She hadn’t heard that since high school, probably. The smirk that settled on her lips made her stomach flip, which wasn’t helping anything at all. She gave him a nod of her head, following him out of the room.

Instead of going down the stairs, she headed down the hallway, fingers gripping the base of the bat tight. She tried to keep her steps as quiet as she could, but there was still a faint pat pat pat across the hardwood floor. Other than that, however, it was silent. Her heart sped up as she approached the office or study or whatever it had been. The door was still open from the night before, and it was clear. She darted over to the window, her panic easing just a little as she picked up the familiar backpack. She looped the straps over her shoulders, shifting the weight a little to settle it properly before she headed back out. She admonished herself for her nerves, but she really didn’t want to be stuck alone. It had been less than twenty-four hours and she already was accustomed to having someone around. She padded down the steps, pausing at the last one as she strained her ears for any noise. “You find anything?” She called, her voice quiet in the house.

---

“Do you want me to be crying and doing whatever you want? Because that’s a weird combination,” Kennedy said, grinning at her. He could drink with the best of him, but vodka and tequila knocked him on his ass harder than most. He kind of hoped that they wouldn’t ever come across either of those. It’d be too embarrassing for him. He lifted his hot chocolate to his lips and took a sip, reveling in the sweet and warmth of the drink. It was nice, to have this. Even with all the shit going on, at least there was some hot chocolate. “Whoever created the Long Island Iced Tea should have thought about his or her life choices,” he said shaking his head slowly. “Nah, it wouldn’t have been a good thing. I’ve yet to meet a happy lawyer. They’re all hard asses that can’t have any fun.” He’d only met a few lawyers in his life, but his brother fit that description perfectly. “You’re kind of bossy, you know that?” He asked, raising a brow as she poked a finger at him. “What happens if you take away the permission and I still do it?”

He watched her for a moment, noting her yawn. She needed to sleep. They both did. They deserved - and needed - a decent night’s rest, but he feared that it wouldn’t come for either of them. After what they’d seen that day, it’d be a miracle if they ever slept again. He frowned at that thought. They only had a couple of days before they couldn’t go on like that anymore, and that concerned him. They needed to get out of the city before they hit that wall. Maybe once they were safer than they currently were, sleep would be easier to find. “A lock-picking doctor could come in handy, now that I think about it,” he mused. His thoughts were interrupted by her next words. His mouth dropped open into an ‘o’ shape as he stared at her. “They - I - Nope. There’s only man that looks good with gray hair, and it’s George Clooney,” he said, ignoring the way his cheeks were probably bursting into flames.

“What’s it say about me when I have more than one weird fling or ex that I pray to never cross paths with again? Because I feel like there’s more than what would be okay,” he said, curious. There weren’t a crazy amount, but a decent enough one that had made him realize later on his taste in women might have been a little skewed. Granted, there was a guy or two in there as well that hadn’t been that great. Maybe it was just people in general. He kept his eyes on her for a moment before looking away. Abby seemed to be the exception to his shit taste in people. “Total mega-bitch,” he grinned. “What about you? You ever dated any mega-bitches?” His eyes lit up at the thought of getting a story like that out of her. It concerned him a little that he was enjoying talking to her this much, but let it slide. She was just nice to talk to. “It’s not stupid. It sounds awesome and I now need to see it sometime,” he said, offering her a small smile.

Shaking his head, his smile turned into a full-blown grin. Drunk Abby sounded pretty damn interesting to him. “Ten times more witty? How’s that even possible? I feel like you’ve already reached the height of wittiness,” he said, and he meant it. She was quick, and he respected that. He didn’t blame the people that had tried to get her to drink with them. After that story, Kennedy would have paid millions to go back in time and drink with her under normal circumstances. He gave a shrug of his shoulders, almost sheepish for a moment before he let a little bit of bravado sneak through. “To be totally honest, I’m a bit of an exhibitionist when I’m sober, too. And we tried to call a taxi, but when it came, he just… drove away.” He started to laugh once more, the memory of he and Matt awkwardly standing in the middle of suburbia at six am, the taxi driver slowing down, eyes widening and then the car speeding back up. “Alright, let me think.” He let out a soft hum, setting his hot chocolate down carefully in front of him as he thought it over. “Never have I ever cried to get out of a speeding ticket,” he eventually said. He paused for a moment before taking a large gulp, shooting her a toothy grin afterward.

Brendan readjusted his grip on the meat tenderizer, drawing in slow, measured breaths of air. Anything could have happened down here over night and at any moment he could have walked into a room full of zombies. Granted, he knew they probably would have heard them by now, if not heard they breaking in. He’d imagine busting down doors or crashing through glass would have woke the two of them up or caused them sort sort of pause when they were in the middle of having sex. Surely, nothing had happened overnight. He glanced around the dining room before moving into the kitchen. Thankfully, he didn’t find anything in anything that seemed out of place. He could, however, hear Sarah moving around upstairs and the occasional shuffle of one of the zombies moving around outside. He made a mental note that they needed to keep quiet to avoid attracting any unwanted attention. Brendan wasn’t sure how acute the living dead’s hearing was, but he didn’t want to take any risks.

He found the kitchen in similar condition as it had been the night before. Nothing was out of place and the countertops were neat and clean. Brendan slowly stepped into the room, keeping an eye on the bay windows that opened out into the backyard. He couldn’t recall if the backyard had been fenced in or not, but he still wanted to play it as safe as possible. Even if there were a fence, zombies could have knocked parts of it down. He couldn’t immediately see if anything where there were any out there, but it couldn’t hurt to be overly cautious. Keeping his gaze at the snow outside, he went through everything they needed to try to grab before they left. At the top of his list was weather gear and food. The other things, like the car keys or any other weapons, were important, but their survival wouldn’t hinge on those as much. Food and warmth, without those two things, they would surely be dead.

As quietly as possible, he stepped over to a few of the cabinets and pulled a couple of them open. He hissed a curse under his breath. He needed a bag if he wanted to grab food for them to stockpile. Whoever owned this house before had a decent amount of canned food, which would probably be their best bet to grab. He drew in a deep breath of air as he began to pull a few of the cans from the shelves and placing them out on the counter. He paused a moment as he heard her speak, forcing himself not to panic at the sudden sound of her voice. “It’s clear down here,” he called back up to her, trying to be as quiet as possible in case any zombies were close by. “I’ve found canned food,” he continued, pulling his lips between his teeth for a moment as he glanced around the kitchen.

His eyes zeroed in on keys hanging in a row beside a door that he would assume lead out to the garage. “And keys,” he added, stepping over to them and glancing them over. It looked like there were two vehicles out in the garage just waiting for them, but the only thing he could tell from it were they were Chevy’s. There was no telling what kind of vehicles were in the garage, they could have been anything. Honestly, he would have taken just about anything that had a decent tank of gas. It just meant they had an even greater chance of surviving and getting as far away from the general area of the city and the suburban areas that lay around it. He grinned to himself for a moment, shoving both sets of keys into his pocket and returning to pulling as many canned goods as he could from the cabinets.

---

Abby gave another shrug as Kennedy spoke, an impish sort of grin on her features. “I’m a weird kinda girl. You never know, that may turn me on,” she said bluntly before letting out a soft laugh. She tapped her fingers against the sides of the mug her hot chocolate was in, keeping her gaze on the man that sat beside her. For a moment, what probably wouldn’t be the last time, she fooled herself into thinking the world wasn’t falling apart around them and that they were merely chatting and enjoying hot chocolate in his apartment or something. Her arm would occasionally give off a hard throb of pain, grounding her back into the reality of their situation. “Maybe they created the Long Island as a result of their life choices,” she retorted, brows lifted slightly before she took another sip of her hot chocolate. “Well…then its a good thing neither of us decided to become lawyers.” She grinned over at him before he commented on her being bossy and she lifted a brow, continuing to grin over at him. “I’m not bossy, I just don’t have time for bad jokes,” she told him, poking him again.

She tucked her hair behind her ear, taking another sip of her hot chocolate before her gaze slipped out of the window once more. Abby watched the snow falling for a few moments before turning back to Kennedy and a wry grin curled her lips at what he said. “Like I’ve said,” she started, “I don’t think I’ll be able to pick any more locks anytime soon…and I’m technically a vet student. So, we may be a little shit-outta-luck.” A laugh flew from her before she could stop it at how he’d reacted to what she’d said. Her lips pulled back into a broad grin as he spoke, noting the flush that had taken up residence on his cheeks. “Oh c’mon, I’m sure you’d look great with grey hair,” she told him, “George Clooney can’t be the only guy that rocks grey hair.”

Taking another sip of her hot chocolate, she grinned for a moment at his question. “Oh, I mean, I have more than a couple too. But there are some I would honestly freak out if I even though there was a chance of crossing paths with again,” she said, offering him a sheepish sort of grin. She nodded a bit in understanding before he questioned on if she’d dated any mega bitches. There was a hesitation in telling him outright about her past misfortunes in the world of dating, but she figured it couldn’t hurt. He’d told his story, it was only right she told one of hers. “Yeah, a few. Though, if you asked them, they’d probably say I was the mega-bitch,” she murmured wryly with a roll of her eyes. “There was one…mega-bitch…that said I studied too much. Spent too much time with my nose in books and a pen in hand. So…he ‘accidentally’ left my notebook out in the rain, but I could totally tell he did it on purpose because why the fuck would I leave my notes outside.” She set her jaw for a moment at the memory, eyes narrowing slightly. “So, I ‘accidentally’ put my foot through a couple of drums in his drum kit,” she finished with a shrug of her shoulders. It was petty and wasn’t something she was proud of, but he’d asked.

“Well, get me a box of wine and you’ll be in for a show,” she told him with a soft laugh, shaking her head a bit. Another laugh left her as he spoke and she ducked her head a bit, gazing up at him for a moment through her eyelashes. “I don’t know…I guess I’m less inclined for wit when I’m sober or I just don’t give a fuck when I’ve been drinking,” she said, letting out another laugh. She watched him closely as he spoke again, brows lifting at the idea that he was a sober exhibitionist. She was seriously regretting not finding this guy earlier; she wished they would have been able to get to know each other under normal circumstances. “What I would’ve done to be a bystander watching all of that? I’m sure the taxi driver was even more clueless than the backyard guy,” she said, grinning broadly over at him. Her brows lifted slightly at his next ‘Never Have I Ever…’ scenario and she pulled her lips between her teeth as he took a sip. Instead, she sat there and shook her head slowly, nearly beaming up at him. “I’ve got a golden driving record. That’s not to say I don’t break rules…I’ve just never been caught,” she told him honestly, letting out another laugh.

Sarah let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding when he answered. It had been quiet enough that she hadn’t been that afraid of a zombie somehow managing to get into the house, but it was still a relief to hear his voice - and that there was food. She headed down the final step before heading towards the kitchen. It was eery in the daylight. It didn’t look like a zombie had been there. No, it seemed too normal. The light was filtering in through the blinds, and it looked as though whoever had lived there was merely out for the day. The TV remote in the living room was lying haphazardly on the couch. A cup was on the coffee table. It was almost disconcerting, how normal it all was. She felt like things were supposed to be drastically different. Other than the soft shuffling from the zombies outside, or the occasional moan, everything was normal.

“Did you say keys?” She asked, pausing in the doorway of the kitchen. There was a chance she was going to cry. Keys. Actual car keys. She watched as he shoved the sets of keys into his pocket, grinning wide. Luck was actually on their side. For the first time in awhile, she let herself feel a little bit of hope. They had a chance at actual survival. She shook her head, still grinning as she walked over to a set of closed cabinets and opened them up, searching for anything that they could use. She stood up on her toes, spotting a box of crackers on the third shelf. “How much food are you planning on grabbing?” She asked, straining her arm as far as it would go. Her fingertips brushed against the box, but not enough to actually grab it. She pushed her arm further, managing to get enough traction to start slowly inching it towards the edge.

“C’mon, c’mon,” she mumbled, drumming her fingers along the side of the box, slowly dragging it forward. It took her a couple more seconds before she was able to grasp it and pull it down. She let herself fall back onto the balls of her feet, silently cursing her height. She set the box on the counter and glanced over to Brendan. “I think I’m going to go try and find some coats,” she said, frowning a little as she looked back to the stupid box of crackers. She lifted the top of it open, finding two unopened packages and one half eaten. She tugged out a couple of them and took a bite of one. It was a little dry going down her throat, but anything was better than nothing. She hadn’t noticed just how hungry she was until the first bite hit her stomach. When had she last eaten? It had been sometime yesterday, but it hadn’t been much. Just the last of a pack of Twizzlers that had been stuffed in her backpack as she’d tried to find a safe place to stay.

She wondered when the next time she would have an actual meal. Or a hot one, at that. If their luck stayed, they’d have enough gas to make it to her aunt and uncle’s place, and there might be actual food there. They didn’t have a farm necessarily, but there was a barn with some horses. And a goat. She hadn’t been there in a couple of years, but the last time she’d been there, they’d had a pantry that had been stocked to the brim with food. As far as she was concerned, that could be their safe haven until Brendan figured out what his next move was, and whether it involved her. “You want some crackers?” She asked, holding out the box as she stepped towards him.

---

Kennedy let out a cough, his eyes widening at her words. “Jesus,” he murmured, shaking his head as he started to laugh. It had caught him off guard, her words. That had been the last response that he’d been expecting, but he appreciated it. This was normal. This was how he and his usual group of friends joked around with each other. It was nice and easy to fall back into that feeling of camaraderie with her. “Maybe they created the Long Island because he or she hated him or herself,” he suggested, smirking over at her. “It’s a fucking miracle neither of us decided to become lawyers. We’d probably be at each other’s throats by now,” he laughed. “No, you’re bossy. That’s all there is to it.” He tried to lean out of the way of her poking, but it was no use.

“Hey, you don’t know that. You thought you were’ going to be able to pick it before, and look where we are. Have a little faith in yourself, Abby.” He leaned back against the wall, taking a long sip of his hot chocolate. It had cooled off just enough so it wasn’t burning his tongue. “Vet student, doctor, same thing to me. You still know way more than I do about medical stuff. All I know is all the words to every song in Hamilton,” he said, chuckling. “I’m not - I wouldn’t - Trust me. I’ve got nothing on George Clooney. He puts literally every other dude with gray hair to shame,” he argued, his cheeks still warm. He wasn’t sure how he could handle that, her deciding that he’d look good with gray hair.

He frowned a little at her words. “Those are the worst ones,” he commiserated. He always felt bad whenever girls had shitty exes. It might have been a little bit sexist of him to think that, but guys just seemed to lean more towards being fucking pricks than girls. His frown deepened as she started her story, finding it hard to imagine. “Are you fucking kidding me? He’s - Holy shit, that’s - Fuck. Who does that?” He asked, staring at her incredulously. “Studying too much, my God. What a fucking prick,” he muttered, shaking his head as he took another drink of his hot chocolate. He couldn’t begin to start voicing his thoughts on that. He’d just start ranting. “I hope it was an expensive drum kit,” he said, giving her a small, dark grin. He’d thought that he’d had it bad with some exes, but that was just cruel.

“I will. I’m going to find a box of wine sometime and you’re going to show me.” Maybe if they somehow managed to find a car to get out of there and then a liquor store. That would be plausible enough, he thought. Before all of this, it had been all too easy to just walk over to the liquor store. Now, it was probably infested with the undead. “I bet it’s just that you don’t give a fuck. You seem pretty witty sober.” His fingers drummed against the bottle of bourbon as he watched her brows raise. Maybe he’d divulged too much. Stating that he leaned towards being an exhibitionist when he’d just met her that day might have been pushing it too far. “Are you saying that you would’ve wanted to see me naked?” He asked, the words piling out his mouth faster than he could realize what he’d said. His eyes widened a little, but he let them stand as was. “No way. That’s impossible. Everyone gets caught. No one has a golden driving record.”

Brendan turned to look over his shoulder at Sarah as she appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, grinning crookedly over at her. “I did. Meaning there’s more than one set and we somehow have options,” he murmured. He watched her for a few moments as she moved around the kitchen. His grin widened a bit when he noticed the one that she wore and he turned to look back at the food. Maybe there would be some left over shopping bags he could place everything in and set them in the car. Then again, that might not’ve been the smartest idea. If they had to leave the car, that would also mean leaving the food. A sigh left him and he carded a hand through his hair and thought of where to look in the house for some sort of backpack or easily carried bags. His gaze darted up from the canned food as Sarah spoke, brows lifted slightly. “Just the stuff that’s easily cooked and lasts a while…not enough to weigh me down if we needed to run, but enough to last us for a while, I suppose,” he told her, doing a bit of a double take when he noticed her straining to get a box from a shelf.

Despite the sense of urgency he knew they needed to have in leaving the house, he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back again the counter to watch her struggle. He did find it a bit comical—he wasn’t necessarily the tallest person, but he’d never had to crane for stuff like she was since he’d been a kid—but there was something he found oddly endearing about it. He smirked a bit as he heard her murmuring to herself, watching with rapt fascination as the box finally was in her grasp and she carefully pulled the box of crackers down. When she turned to him, he merely shot her a cheeky grin before turning back to look down through the cabinet once more to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. “Good idea. I didn’t have enough time to grab one last night,” he murmured as he leaned over to pluck through a couple of the other cabinets.

He found a few bottles of water left over from what he assumed was once a full case and placed them on the counter beside the canned food. He found a few shopping bags tucked in the back of one of the cabinets and placed a few of them on the countertop to hold what other things they could find. Brendan shot a glance to Sarah when he heard the rustling of the packages of crackers, watching her for a bit longer as she bit into one. His stomach growled a bit and he realized that he had been hungrier than he’d thought. Last meal he had was lunch the day before. He didn’t know what time it was, but he knew that it’d been far too long since he last ate. A frown curled his lips as he turned back to the canned food and water. How long could they live off of this stuff? How long would this even last them? What would they do if they couldn’t find anything else to eat?

He shot a look over to Sarah as she questioned him and walked over to him, eyes darting between her and the box for a moment before he nodded in reply. His grip on their situation and his grip on his anxiety felt stretched thin and he felt like it could rip at any moment. Taking the box with a thankful grin, he grabbed a bottle of water and set it beside her. “Do you think we should try to make a meal—a decent, home-cooked one—while we still have power running before we leave?” He suggested, shooting Sarah a sidelong look. “It’s not like we have the most time in the world to sit here and wait, but…I just…need something to ground myself before I head back out there.” He paused for a moment, lips twisted slightly to the side. “We don’t have to…I just figured this may be the last time we have a decent meal for a while.”

---

Abby couldn’t help but grin broadly over at Kennedy as he coughed. What she’d said was way out of her comfort zone, and she wasn’t exactly sure how he would take it, but the reaction she’d pulled from him with it was worth the risk. She pulled her lips between her teeth for a moment, eyes still glinting with laughter as she kept her gaze on him. “Or they hated themselves because of their life choices,” she said before laughing quietly to herself. “There are so many other things that I would rather be than a lawyer, so I think we’re safe,” she told him with a wry grin. She shot him a look at what he said next, wrinkling up her nose a bit. “Maybe a little,” she murmured, looking a bit sour with herself over admitting it.

She took another sip of her hot chocolate, ducking her head a bit at what he’d said and looking away for a moment. Abby knew she had some serious self-esteem issues, ones that she couldn’t seem to shake, and she was always a bit bashful when someone pointed them out to her. Her eyes slipped over to him as he spoke again, a small smile curling her features as she replied. “Yes, but open humans and animals up and things are bound to look drastically different. I mean, in theory, I guess they’re pretty similar but…” She shrugged a single shoulder before adding, “I’m sure you know way more about history than I do, and I definitely don’t have the patience to deal with teenagers. I can barely deal with myself.” She let out a wry laugh, smiling over at him when he spoke. “George Clooney’s never really done anything for me anyways,” she told him before looking down into her hot chocolate before taking another sip.

“I know, right,” she said, shaking her head slowly. “I’ve had a few that have almost made me swear off dating altogether.” A heavy sigh left her and she rested her head back against the frame of the window, gaze slipping out to the snow for a few moments before finding their way back to him. “I wish I was kidding. Needless say, the asshole wasn’t necessarily the smartest person I’ve ever dated,” she told him with a roll of her eyes. She ran the fingertip of her index finger over the rim of her mug, another one of those impish looks curling her features as he spoke. “Oh, I’m sure it was. I pretty much ghosted him too after that. Left his drum kit a mess and stopped talking to him,” she added, sounding much too happy about it.

She brushed a hand through her hair, causing a few of her curls to frizz up a bit as she took another sip of her hot chocolate. Placing the mug aside, she wrapped her hands around the blanket and hoisted it up a bit more securely around her shoulders. “Yeah…I do tend to let my filter go when I’m drunk. But then again, who doesn’t?” She posed with another shrug of her shoulders. What he said next had her eyes widening and her relaxed posture going stiff. She stared at him for a few moments, blinking a couple of times as she thought through what she could say in response. “I mean…doesn’t everyone wonder what someone looks like naked at some point?” She murmured, ducking her head as her cheeks flushed a bright red color. She grabbed the bottle of bourbon from him as he spoke, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “Well…I suppose I’m an exception to that,” she told him honestly. “Never have I ever…faked sickness or injury to get out of a date,” she said, pausing for a few moments before taking a large swig of bourbon.