Red Alert
Title: Chapter 4: Dark Road
Author: saint0fsinners
Pairing: Billie Joe/ Mike
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I own no one damnit, but this story is mine and completely fictional!
Chapter 4: Dark Road
It feels so good to know I’m not alone. To not have that dark cloud of uncertainty hanging above me, forcing me to wallow alone in this forsaken world that could easily take hold and swallow you whole. I mean hell, I almost let myself get killed after Brittney was murdered. Go ahead, say I did a mercy killing, but she was still my wife and she died at my hands. Call me a hero, but I’m just a killer. This whole time I hoped that at least someone was alive, that I at least had someone and I didn’t fail in saving them. So when I saw Billie, I just couldn’t hold back my emotions. I’m relieved, happy, excited- everything all at once. I swear to fucking God that kid saved me from going insane.
We walk around the store for a few minutes, sticking close to his side like an overprotective mother to her child. No chance in hell am I letting him out of my sight; right now he’s all I have and I’m not planning on letting him loose anytime soon. And seeing how he sticks close to me, he’s feeling the same way. Billie talks to me about how he had actually left his house and that alone gives me chills. He was actually out there on his own. I never let myself think of the ‘what ifs’; Billie’s with me now and that’s all that matters. We both start picking up supplies and potential weapons- going through the sports department, then the tools. It took a little convincing to get Billie to grab at least one gun from the hunting and outdoor sports, but we grabbed a few firearms as well before heading back to the front of the store.
“I heard your car drive by one of the neighborhoods by Gilman,” he goes on as he opens a backpack he grabbed earlier and fills it with an emergency kit followed by extra gauze, disinfectants, and band-aids. I almost tell him there’s no reason to have them; if those zombies bite us it’s all over. But I bite my tongue and let him pack it. I don’t tell him about Brittney and I don’t plan on it. How I found her bite mark under her sleeve on her left arm after I bashed her head in like mashing a potato. Being here on my own should have been enough of a hint for him, anyway.
He looks up at me as a sheepish grin spreads across his face. “I thought you were just another nutcase speeding off down the road.” We both laugh lightly, still wanting to keep quiet incase if we were wrong about being alone. But for the moment I forget we are even in the middle of a zombie pandemic; I’m just too happy to care about the undead threat we will have to face outside. My only care is for the black haired, green-eyed man standing next to me.
“Pack’s full,” he mutters and moves to stand, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “We should try to stop by Tre’s place.”
He seems hesitant to suggest it. But after being stuck in the neighborhoods and seeing all of the zombies out, I don’t blame him for not wanting to go back to that. But we still have Tre to go after before we can hit the road. “You haven’t heard from him?” I ask, though I know my answer before Billie shakes his head. Any form of communication was cut with the electricity in the residential areas. And traveling outside was basically suicide.
We both exchange a worried glance to each other. But I’m the first to soften my gaze and offer some optimism, “He’s going to be okay. If we made it out, he will too.” My words of comfort are simple, yet they seem to have an effect since Billie returns the smile and walks out of the store with me, his arm occasionally bumping gently into mine. We pack our bags into the back of the truck and rush to the front doors. A low hiss catches our ears followed by rushing footsteps. They go ignored; even if it was only one against two, we both still want to get the hell out. Swiftly my hands work to get the key in the ignition and the engine roars to life. I put my foot to the pedal and my tires squeal before we gun it out of the parking lot. Billie looks back and watches as the three zombies try to give chase.
“Persistent little fuckers, aren’t they,” he says before settling down in his seat again. Out of the corner of my eye I see him pull out a box of cigarettes and I’m suddenly hit with an overwhelming craving for one. I had run out when I was staying in my house and the craving for nicotine was probably edging my insane paranoia and worry along before I made a break for it. Before I even ask, he offers me one and I take it, leaning over as he lights the end of it for me.
The ride is silent. We haven’t seen each other for weeks yet there is nothing to say- because what really is there to say? We both have been stuck in our houses for three weeks waiting for the right moment to get the fuck out. The same stories are easily exchanged, what’s the point of hearing it again? For me, my thoughts are mostly on Tre. He lives closer to Oakland than we do. Again I fight off the ‘what-ifs’ and the doubting thoughts; until I see a dead body in his house, Tre is still alive.
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I’ve wanted to ask where Brittney was, but in the back of my mind, I know the answer to that question. Mike and Brittney were so in love with each other it was crazy. Now thinking that she is gone, it makes me wonder how long Mike has had to deal with that loneliness. We had been in this living nightmare for over a week; that has to be a long time, especially on your own. My feelings toward Adrienne aren’t as bad as what Mike had to have been going through… because I still have hope Adrienne is alive. Because I know I don’t have to live with the fact that she would have to be killed.
I look at Mike, cigarette between my fingers. I want to say something; give him some sort of comfort that he isn’t the only one that is suffering. But what do I know about what he’s gone through? Who am I to tell him everything is okay? I still have a family, I have people waiting for me somewhere safe- hopefully. He has no one. My heart beats painfully in my chest and I look ahead again, putting the cigarette to my lips.
The neighborhood up to Tre’s house is crawling with zombies. They’re like annoying bugs that you want to squish under your shoe- they’re disgusting. Mike and I exchange glances before he slowly stars driving down the street. A few of the zombies look up, staring as our truck rolls along at ten miles an hour. The loud noise of the engine would attract them if we dare to go any faster. But my eyes aren’t on the zombies; they’re fixed on a dark house toward the middle of the neighborhood. My heart leaps with hope for a signal- the movement of a curtain or a face in the window. Then it dawns on me: some of the windows down stairs aren’t boarded up.
“See anything?” Mike asks as we start to pass our friend’s house.
“Only a few boarded up windows,” I respond, hinting at the thoughts in my mind.
Mike’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. “I’ll park around the corner and we’ll make a run for it. I’m not leaving until we find him.” I hate the way he says it; he doesn’t say we won’t leave without him. Tre has been our friend since we were teenagers. If he’s dead, I don’t even know what I’ll do. I shouldn’t even be considering the idea, but with the way life goes now, you never know.
The 4Runner turns the corner of the street and Mike parks it before turning it off. He reaches in the back seat and grabs one of the three pistols we grabbed and then his axe. I swallow and reach back for my baseball bat and look at him reluctantly as he offers his pistol. I’ve hated guns ever since I had been mugged a while back. Sure now guns should be a godsend in a zombie apocalypse, but they still make my blood run cold. The sight of them alone makes me uneasy “Okay.” Relief washes over me as Mike takes the pistol back. He turns toward his door and looks back at me. “Ready?”
“No,” I reply, but I’m the first to whip my door open and take off running.
I hear Mike curse and his door close but I keep running. More footsteps hit the pavement quickly and I know Mike’s not the only one running after me. I skid on the concrete to turn and run to the house. I know I move too slowly so I bring my bat up and swing behind me, the loud pang hitting a zombie square in the side of the head. Crunching of bones is enough to let me know I hit my mark before I go for one of the windows. Mike calls out to me and I look back to see him running up for me. We don’t bother with the front door; it’s always the first thing people board up in their homes. We both bring our weapons up and smash them into the glass. I take a deep breath to prepare for what will be inside.
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Ugh I hate this chapter....
I'm sorry this took forever and I gave such crap x[
I guess we can say it gives more insight into their feelings for each other
And it gets us to Tre's house...
We'll have to see what has happened to the loveable drummer in the next chapter xD
Author: saint0fsinners
Pairing: Billie Joe/ Mike
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I own no one damnit, but this story is mine and completely fictional!
Chapter 4: Dark Road
It feels so good to know I’m not alone. To not have that dark cloud of uncertainty hanging above me, forcing me to wallow alone in this forsaken world that could easily take hold and swallow you whole. I mean hell, I almost let myself get killed after Brittney was murdered. Go ahead, say I did a mercy killing, but she was still my wife and she died at my hands. Call me a hero, but I’m just a killer. This whole time I hoped that at least someone was alive, that I at least had someone and I didn’t fail in saving them. So when I saw Billie, I just couldn’t hold back my emotions. I’m relieved, happy, excited- everything all at once. I swear to fucking God that kid saved me from going insane.
We walk around the store for a few minutes, sticking close to his side like an overprotective mother to her child. No chance in hell am I letting him out of my sight; right now he’s all I have and I’m not planning on letting him loose anytime soon. And seeing how he sticks close to me, he’s feeling the same way. Billie talks to me about how he had actually left his house and that alone gives me chills. He was actually out there on his own. I never let myself think of the ‘what ifs’; Billie’s with me now and that’s all that matters. We both start picking up supplies and potential weapons- going through the sports department, then the tools. It took a little convincing to get Billie to grab at least one gun from the hunting and outdoor sports, but we grabbed a few firearms as well before heading back to the front of the store.
“I heard your car drive by one of the neighborhoods by Gilman,” he goes on as he opens a backpack he grabbed earlier and fills it with an emergency kit followed by extra gauze, disinfectants, and band-aids. I almost tell him there’s no reason to have them; if those zombies bite us it’s all over. But I bite my tongue and let him pack it. I don’t tell him about Brittney and I don’t plan on it. How I found her bite mark under her sleeve on her left arm after I bashed her head in like mashing a potato. Being here on my own should have been enough of a hint for him, anyway.
He looks up at me as a sheepish grin spreads across his face. “I thought you were just another nutcase speeding off down the road.” We both laugh lightly, still wanting to keep quiet incase if we were wrong about being alone. But for the moment I forget we are even in the middle of a zombie pandemic; I’m just too happy to care about the undead threat we will have to face outside. My only care is for the black haired, green-eyed man standing next to me.
“Pack’s full,” he mutters and moves to stand, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “We should try to stop by Tre’s place.”
He seems hesitant to suggest it. But after being stuck in the neighborhoods and seeing all of the zombies out, I don’t blame him for not wanting to go back to that. But we still have Tre to go after before we can hit the road. “You haven’t heard from him?” I ask, though I know my answer before Billie shakes his head. Any form of communication was cut with the electricity in the residential areas. And traveling outside was basically suicide.
We both exchange a worried glance to each other. But I’m the first to soften my gaze and offer some optimism, “He’s going to be okay. If we made it out, he will too.” My words of comfort are simple, yet they seem to have an effect since Billie returns the smile and walks out of the store with me, his arm occasionally bumping gently into mine. We pack our bags into the back of the truck and rush to the front doors. A low hiss catches our ears followed by rushing footsteps. They go ignored; even if it was only one against two, we both still want to get the hell out. Swiftly my hands work to get the key in the ignition and the engine roars to life. I put my foot to the pedal and my tires squeal before we gun it out of the parking lot. Billie looks back and watches as the three zombies try to give chase.
“Persistent little fuckers, aren’t they,” he says before settling down in his seat again. Out of the corner of my eye I see him pull out a box of cigarettes and I’m suddenly hit with an overwhelming craving for one. I had run out when I was staying in my house and the craving for nicotine was probably edging my insane paranoia and worry along before I made a break for it. Before I even ask, he offers me one and I take it, leaning over as he lights the end of it for me.
The ride is silent. We haven’t seen each other for weeks yet there is nothing to say- because what really is there to say? We both have been stuck in our houses for three weeks waiting for the right moment to get the fuck out. The same stories are easily exchanged, what’s the point of hearing it again? For me, my thoughts are mostly on Tre. He lives closer to Oakland than we do. Again I fight off the ‘what-ifs’ and the doubting thoughts; until I see a dead body in his house, Tre is still alive.
-----------
I’ve wanted to ask where Brittney was, but in the back of my mind, I know the answer to that question. Mike and Brittney were so in love with each other it was crazy. Now thinking that she is gone, it makes me wonder how long Mike has had to deal with that loneliness. We had been in this living nightmare for over a week; that has to be a long time, especially on your own. My feelings toward Adrienne aren’t as bad as what Mike had to have been going through… because I still have hope Adrienne is alive. Because I know I don’t have to live with the fact that she would have to be killed.
I look at Mike, cigarette between my fingers. I want to say something; give him some sort of comfort that he isn’t the only one that is suffering. But what do I know about what he’s gone through? Who am I to tell him everything is okay? I still have a family, I have people waiting for me somewhere safe- hopefully. He has no one. My heart beats painfully in my chest and I look ahead again, putting the cigarette to my lips.
The neighborhood up to Tre’s house is crawling with zombies. They’re like annoying bugs that you want to squish under your shoe- they’re disgusting. Mike and I exchange glances before he slowly stars driving down the street. A few of the zombies look up, staring as our truck rolls along at ten miles an hour. The loud noise of the engine would attract them if we dare to go any faster. But my eyes aren’t on the zombies; they’re fixed on a dark house toward the middle of the neighborhood. My heart leaps with hope for a signal- the movement of a curtain or a face in the window. Then it dawns on me: some of the windows down stairs aren’t boarded up.
“See anything?” Mike asks as we start to pass our friend’s house.
“Only a few boarded up windows,” I respond, hinting at the thoughts in my mind.
Mike’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. “I’ll park around the corner and we’ll make a run for it. I’m not leaving until we find him.” I hate the way he says it; he doesn’t say we won’t leave without him. Tre has been our friend since we were teenagers. If he’s dead, I don’t even know what I’ll do. I shouldn’t even be considering the idea, but with the way life goes now, you never know.
The 4Runner turns the corner of the street and Mike parks it before turning it off. He reaches in the back seat and grabs one of the three pistols we grabbed and then his axe. I swallow and reach back for my baseball bat and look at him reluctantly as he offers his pistol. I’ve hated guns ever since I had been mugged a while back. Sure now guns should be a godsend in a zombie apocalypse, but they still make my blood run cold. The sight of them alone makes me uneasy “Okay.” Relief washes over me as Mike takes the pistol back. He turns toward his door and looks back at me. “Ready?”
“No,” I reply, but I’m the first to whip my door open and take off running.
I hear Mike curse and his door close but I keep running. More footsteps hit the pavement quickly and I know Mike’s not the only one running after me. I skid on the concrete to turn and run to the house. I know I move too slowly so I bring my bat up and swing behind me, the loud pang hitting a zombie square in the side of the head. Crunching of bones is enough to let me know I hit my mark before I go for one of the windows. Mike calls out to me and I look back to see him running up for me. We don’t bother with the front door; it’s always the first thing people board up in their homes. We both bring our weapons up and smash them into the glass. I take a deep breath to prepare for what will be inside.
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Ugh I hate this chapter....
I'm sorry this took forever and I gave such crap x[
I guess we can say it gives more insight into their feelings for each other
And it gets us to Tre's house...
We'll have to see what has happened to the loveable drummer in the next chapter xD