A Smoshy Apocolypse

"Anthony...Anthony! Wake up!"
Ian's frantic voice broke through Anthony's hazy dream world. The sun was barely breaking over the horizon, indicating that it's time to move. They were stationed in a tree house today. Somewhere in some suburb. They had lost track of what state they were in awhile ago.
Anthony stretched, almost knocking his arm into the confining spaces of the children's tree hang out. They'd found this place late last night while escaping from a herd. Luckily, zombies aren't that great at chases.

As Anthony stood, he made sure not to bump his head, as he did the other night. Anthony lightly rubbed at the bruised area on his scalp, frowning. Ian was quickly stepping down the wooden plank steps of the tree house with his hiking bag of supplies. When the day of the outbreak happened, they were both extremely shocked, almost disbelieving, thinking there was no actual possible way that zombies could exist. But, their shock soon turned into instinct. An instinct to survive.

Ian and Anthony learned a long time ago to stay off the main roads and always travel during the day. That's when their least active. The heat makes them sluggish and tired.
They made their way into the woods that surrounded the abandoned house. They already raided the house the other day, only coming out with a few bits of beef jerky left in a bag, some stale crackers, and a couple miniature boxes of raisins. To them, it was a good haul.

As Ian walked out in front, Anthony stayed in the back, but by a couple feet. They didn't want to make much noise and walking close together wouldn't have helped. Ian kept watch of the path in front of them, while Anthony kept watch of their sides and back.

As they both walked silently through the woods Ian started to notice something,"...This area..." he whispered, "It reminds me of something."
The woods soon thinned and turned to beautiful short green grass with rolling hills.
Whispering was now second nature to the both of them. They still didn't know much about the zombies, not like they were gonna get close to find out, but they did know that they reacted to screaming and talking. If it didn't sound like a zombie they would go after it.
Anthony started to take a closer look at his surroundings.
"...It's a golf course..." he concluded.
Ian nodded, "Sure as hell is." he said, bringing his voice out of whisper mode.
They'd been on golf courses before, and they were one of the most deserted places to be. Somehow, zombies knew where people were, and not many people really thought about going to golf courses, so there were never any zombies.

With that, Ian let his bag drop, sitting directly where he stood. Anthony came up and sat right next to him.
"Ya'know, if we had a gun or something, I bet we could live out here." Ian muses.
Anthony roles his eyes, "That's what you said about the last place that was deserted, but of course, 'We couldn't take the risk'." Anthony mocks Ian's voice with a talking hand motion.
Ian's eye brows furrowed, "Well, excuse me for trying to keep us alive." Ian grumbles. It seems that ever sense they had to run from their home, Ian and Anthony hadn't gotten along together much. Of course, they tried to keep their discomfort with each other to a minimum, knowing that going it alone would mean death for the both of them.

Anthony reached over Ian and grabbed the hiking bag.
"...What are you doing?" Ian asks, eying Anthony's hands.
"I'm thirsty. Can't I just get a drink without you jumping down my throat?!" Anthony yanks the bottled water out of the front compartment angrily.
Ian is feeling tired and annoyed at this point.
"I'm gonna set up camp." He mumbles, grabbing the bag from Anthony's lap and storming off.

Anthony sighs. He didn't like saying the things he did, but he knew he wouldn't be acting like this if he had a full meal and an entire days sleep. Not to mention some bigger shoes.
He then pulled off the constricting footwear, rubbing at his aching feet.
One time when they were sleeping in an unlocked house, a zombie had found it's way in. They had to get up and go immediately, leaving behind Anthony's bag and shoes.
He was able to go a couple days without them, but by day four he was tired of picking small rocks and glass from his feet.
They wound up just snatching a pair from a recently killed zombie. Unfortunately, they weren't big enough. He tried cutting the sides, and cutting out the toes, but that just made them more uncomfortable and now they were falling apart. And, because of their 'stay off the main roads' rule, they couldn't get close to any stores that might have his size still on the shelves. Not much of anything was left in a lot of places.
The hand full of times they tried finding food in places ended horribly and with one of them almost eaten.

Anthony decided to walk in the cool grass for a bit, getting away from Ian and letting his mind wander. Usually when he walks alone he can grieve. When they had to leave home, Anthony and Ian's parents were either already bitten or had turned. It was extremely traumatizing and they didn't really have any time to be sad about it. The day before they got word of the severe rate of how rapidly it was creeping to their region they made up several bags and back packs of supplies and survival gear. Unfortunately, when they got to their parents, it was already too late.
Now, they were almost out of supplies and food and living day by day. The only reason their still alive now is because they have access to clean water. By putting a few drops of iodine in some lake water and letting it sit for awhile they have perfect drinking water. But, they were running out of iodine. They didn't know how much longer they had until their time was up.They really didn't want to talk about it, even though they both knew it was going to happen. The subject seemed to stick in the air, ominously, no matter what the conversation.

Anthony walked around a rather large tree with low hanging limbs and decided to climb it. He didn't know why he wanted to, but seeing as how he probably won't be able to do most things anymore doing things like this were nice.
As he straddled the tree limb, he looked out over the golf course. He could see Ian, sitting next to the laid out sleeping bags. He wasn't working on anything though. Anthony focused more on Ian and then felt like turning away. Ian's shoulders were slightly bobbing, and his face was in his hands. He was crying.

Anthony sighed and climbed more branches, taking him to the other side. He sat back down, this time just side saddle. By the looks of it, they were somewhere at the end of the course. The clubhouse was maybe three holes away. Anthony got the sudden urge to go investigate it. He's had these feelings before.
Most the time, if he tried to investigate, the place was crawling with zombies.

This time, though, he had a different feeling. It was partly the need to investigate, and partly the feeling you get when you think you might be late for something.
He frowned at the building, getting ready to hurt himself if he was wrong.

**********
His feet didn't hurt as much as he thought they would, the grass probably being the reason why. As he cautiously stepped up to the house, he made sure to make as little noise as possible. The house was big, with two stories.
Anthony made a note that if need be he could jump from the windows and fall into the bushes on the ground surrounding the place. An escape route is always a good idea to have.

The windows were dark and covered in cob webs and dust, so looking through them wasn't helping much. He decided to quickly make his way to the front entrance, praying the doors were unlocked. The simple white wooden doors were heavy as he pulled them open.
A big burst of dusty warm air captured him. This was a good sign, all the dustyness. Dust means there's no movement to kick up air and move it around. Anthony didn't have anything to illuminate his way, so he plunged in blindly.

As he closed the door behind him, he also closed his eyes, letting them adjust to the darkness. He also listened for any rustling or movement. None.

Anthony slowly opened his eyes, seeing that he was in the main room. Trophy cases and golf clubs lined the walls. He also saw a few dusty couches and chairs. He slowly walked passed them and into a hallway. The hallway was dark like the rest of the place, but what really caught his interest was the sign dangling from the ceiling that had an arrow pointing to the left with the word 'cafeteria' on it.

Anthony almost sprinted down that hall, bursting through another set of wooden double doors. The smell of putrid meat and rotten fruits and vegetables engulfed his sinuses, bringing tears to his eyes. He quickly clasped both his hands over his mouth and squinted. The smell was horrible, but his stomach told he to get over it.
He needed to find any kind of food. Or just something to get ahead, something to keep them alive.
As Anthony rapidly sped through the over turned tables and chairs the smell seemed to get worse the closer he got the kitchen. He also started to hear the buzzing of flies and bugs. A chill ran down his spine.
'There had better be some fuckin food in here...' his thoughts grumbled.
He walked through the swinging door of the kitchen and promptly turned back around to puke.
There, sitting up against the stove was the rotting remains of what once was probably a club member. Their eyes were gone, and their jaw bone was fully exposed, so it had been awhile sense they died. There was noway this guy could be a zombie, he was too decayed.

Anthony whipped his mouth with the bottom of his shirt and decided to hold it against his face. The smell of his spit vomit was more bearable than this stink. Hell, anything was.

He kept away from the body and fridge, those places being where the worst stink is. He bent down, checking cabinets. In most of them were only pots and pans and he was about ready to give up until he got to his last two cabinets. He sighed, knowing they'd probably hold nothing when he heard a can fall.

He swiftly turned around, only to see a small door. Anthony had programmed himself to run away from any kind of sound like that, learning from horror films that opening the door only meant you were the next one to die. But, something told him it wasn't a zombie. He wanted to yell curse words at his 'feelings'. He was going to get himself killed over food.

He finally just went for it, knowing he had nothing else to lose.

And to his utter, stunned, delight, it was only a family of racoons.
They all hissed and ran off.
Anthony lightly giggled to himself, finding that he enjoyed that.
He decided to take a closer look at the cabinet that strangely held these racoons. They had to be in there for a reason.

Anthony looked at the shelves and almost collapsed on the floor.
It was a can of baked beans. In fact, there were several cans.
Anthony realized he had found the pantry.
************

Night was falling and Ian was in a frenzy. Anthony had walked off well over a couple hours ago. They'd been walking in the forest for that whole mourning and on into the afternoon until they found the golf course and made camp. All he's thinking about is the last thing he said to Anthony was something to do with anger and annoyance.

Ian had been calling out Anthony's name as loudly as he could, not rationally thinking about his current situation. His mind went to the worst possible explanation. He had been hurt and couldn't make his way back or even worse. He was bit.

Upon this thought, Ian ran even more frantically in the direction he remembered Anthony walk in. Then, as he got close to the club house, he heard labored foot steps and grunting. At this point, Ian was so pumped he could probably bust up any zombie that stood in his way, so that's why he rounded the corner at full speed.

And that's also why he ran smack dab into Anthony, sending them both flying back. Anthony' bags fell out of his hands, several cans slipping out.
"Ian?! What are you-"
"DON'T YOU EVER FUCKING DO THAT AGAIN!" Ian yelled, standing up and over top of Anthony. His hands were closed in tight fists, his jaw as tight as possible.
Anthony got over the shock of seeing Ian quick after hearing the anger and rage in his voice. He slowly stood up and meet the eyes of his best friend. "Ian...Ian, I'm sorry." Anthony took hold of both Ian's shoulders and brought him into an embrace. Ian hadn't. Realized till now that he was crying. Ian hugged back fiercely, hating how emotional he gets now a days. Anthony patted his back, "the only reason it took me so long is because I couldn't find any bags to put the cans in. Ian, there's so much food here!" Anthony exclaims, looking at the engorged golf bags setting on the ground.
"The only problem is I can't find a can opener." Anthony's shoulders slumped. Ian smiled, "come on, let's go look some more." Ian took a glow stick from his pocket and threw it to Anthony.
*********
By the time Ian and Anthony got everything they could carry, the sun was already beginning to awaken. It was o.k, though, because the golf course was like their sanctuary. They didn't stay in the club house because the stench of the dead and rotten had already seeped through out the building. Once Anthony opened the cafeteria doors, everything sort of got stained with the smell.

Anthony sat on his sleeping bag, trying to find the most efficient way to carry all this food in his new bag. The gift shop was still incredibly stalked with supplies. Unfortunately though, the only shoes that were there were golf shoes that were either too small or just display.
Ian burped, wiping his mouth of corn juice. He had already eaten a can of corn, black eyed peas, and green beans. The best meal he's had in months.

Anthony sat up from his laying down position, "We should go back tomorrow to get what ever else we can." he suggests.
Ian nods. "It's not like we're in a rush though." he comments.
"Yea, but right now we still can't be off our guard. If we slack off about this for a day, it's the perfect time for us to be killed."
Ian sighs, knowing Anthony was right. He was hoping for at least a day of laziness.

Anthony tossed a couple more dry sticks on the dying fire. It was the first time they could build a fire without fear of detection.
"Well, I guess we can both sleep at the same time if we want." Anthony says, getting into his sleeping bag.
Ian smiles, loving this idea, because usually Anthony got to sleep for four hours while Ian had to stay up and watch, then he could go to sleep for four hours.
"Alright. Night, Anthony." Ian says, getting into his own sleeping bag.

The boys fell asleep rather quickly, bellies full, with a fire that slowly died as they slept. The best damn feeling they've had in awhile.

Too bad they had no idea what they were getting into tomorrow.