The Venom Will Spread, but Still Walk the Dead

Gerard’s P.O.V:

Mikey and I were looking through an office when they started bleeping. Mikey was staring at the flashing red light on his walkie talkie, and then the screen, trying to work out what was going on. I looked at mine too; a little map like thing had popped up and a little red light was pointing North, back the way we came.

“Should we?” I questioned.

“That’s Nick,” Mikey said, panic evident in his voice “We should definitely get going!”

“How do you know that?” I demanded, looking at the screen blankly.

“It’s a little red square, see?” He questioned “Frank said that meant he’s level with us!”

And off he went, me hot on his heels. No way was he leaving my sight! Mikey led us back the way we’d come from and down the corridor Nick had gone down, glancing at the little screen on his walkie talkie for reassurance that he was going the right way.

He paused outside one of the doors, the beeping on our walkie talkies had gotten faster, suggesting we were closer than we were before. And then they cut out all together.

“You stay here, okay?” I said, earning a nod as I reached out for the door handle.

The room looked like some kind of medical room. There was a screen set up and I could make out the outline of another figure, standing on the other side.

I gripped my gun tightly and fearfully as I stepped closer. What if it was one of those things? What if it was too quick for me? I thought of Mikey as I stepped closer in attempt to brave myself up.

The figure didn’t move as I approached. I could see that they had their head tilted downwards and arms rigid by their sides.

“Hello?” I managed to say, coming out as little more than a fearful whisper “A-are you alright?”

No reply.

“Nick?” I whispered, seeing the green clothing.

A S.T.A.R.S uniform?

I stepped around, gun pointed.

Frank was standing there. His back was rigid and hard like stone, his arms by his side, fists clenched and shaking. He was staring hard at the body in front of him, sprawled out on the floor in a pool of blood.

Despite the lack of tears as he looked over Nick’s lifeless, limp body, I could tell he was beyond upset about it. He was trembling as he looked.

I looked to see the body of a Doberman, gashes across its throat and several gunshot wounds in various places. Nick’s limp form had no signs of the dog attacking him but I assumed he’d shot it due to the gun in his limp hand. He had one gunshot wound in the middle of his forehead.

“Frank?” I questioned gently.

“It’s too late;” He replied quietly “He’s dead.”

He began to tremble harder than before, fists clenching even tighter, causing his arms to shake. His expression was hard.

I reached out slowly and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Look,” I began sympathetically “It’s not your fault.”

He pulled away sharply, looking at me with a distraught look of fury.

“So why does it feel like it is?” He demanded aggressively “I shot him, Gerard! I’m the one that killed him!”

“What?” I questioned, uncertain if I’d heard him right.

“You heard me,” He spat “I shot him!”

“Why?”

“He. . . he turned on me,” He whimpered, his voice cracking in disbelief as he said it “I came in and. . . and the dog was dead. . . he’d shot it and it was dead. And I. . . I asked him if he was okay and he was- he was lying on the ground and I asked him again and went to help him up and he suddenly woke up. And he. . . he just suddenly turned on me and he g-grabbed me and. . . and he. . . oh God, he just. . . so I. . .”

I grabbed him and wrapped my arms around his shorter form as he started shaking and undeniably crying tears of fury. He let his head rest on my shoulder as he cried. I let him cry, trying my best to be comforting.

“Frank, I. . . it’s gonna’ be fine-“

“NO!” He screamed “NO IT’S NOT GONNA’ BE FINE, YOU ASSHOLE! HE’S BEEN MY PARTNER FOR YEARS; WE’VE BEEN WORKING TOGETHER FOR YEARS! WE TRAINED FOR THE FORCE TOGETHER. HE WAS ONE OF MY BEST FRIENDS! I LOVED HIM, HE WAS MY PARTNER!” He continued to scream, hitting my chest crazily.

I managed to grab his wrists as he continued to hit me. His anger drained and he finally broke down into salty tears, gripping the front of my shirt with his face buried in my chest as he sobbed.

“Gerard?” Mikey questioned, bursting through the door “Gerard, what’s going on in here, is everything okay?”

“No,” Frank whimpered into my chest “No, it’s not!”

“What?” Mikey questioned.

“Don’t let him. . .” Frank begged “Don’t. . . please?”

“Don’t come in, Mikey,” I said quickly “We’ve got a. . . situation.”

“Well, maybe I can help!”

“No. . .” Came the muffled whimper “No one can help. . .”

Then Bob and Ray’s voices joined Mikey’s, questioning what was happening. Frank gripped my t-shirt tighter, breathing hard but slowly. I rubbed his back slowly, trying to help him calm down and regain his composure.

“It’s gonna’ be okay,” I whispered “It’ll get easier, I promise. You might not get over it but it gets easier!”

“He’s dead,” He whimpered “He-he’s dead. I feel like. . .”

“Like?” I prompted.

He shook his head. Then he pulled back, looking down at my arms, holding onto him, and pulled away from me sharply. He brushed himself down, took one last look at Nick’s body before wiping his eyes and walking out to join the others.