Fic - Purple, Black, and Blue (7/???)
Title: Purple, Black, and Blue
Chapter: 7/???
Rating: M, more than likely
Ship: Kames, eventually. Logan/Camille, Jett/OFC, maybe more.
Summary: "He doesn’t know how he escaped the first L.A. explosion. It incinerated his home, his workplace, people he cared about. Or, he supposes it did. He knows the physical area isn’t standing. The people, he has no clue. He arrived too late. No one was to be found."
Author's Note: Um. So. I don't know what this is. I guess
garnetice would classify it as apoca!fic. So. Hey, look at me, on the bandwagon. Anyway, I definitely have her to thank, for betaing, and for inspiring me with her latest fic In Fair Verona. Still don't know where this came from, but let's see what I can do with it.
Chapter Seven
Thunder booms and shakes the whole building. Kendall jumps out of a dead sleep, his heart pounding at the sound, ears ringing.
Rain is pelting the window, leaking through little edges where the caulk has worn away. Kendall clutches his blankets close to him, a sudden sadness washing over him. There’s a plane somewhere out there, willing to brave the weather. Before the war, it wouldn’t be thought of. But now? It’s the perfect cover. And if they die, it’s not that shocking.
Almost everyone Kendall knows in the place is getting on that plane - off to New York; maybe off to their watery graves.
He doesn’t want them to go.
His door slams open and Kendall jumps again, lighting filling the room with white light and dousing him in darkness again.
“Kendall.”
It’s James. He’s out of breath, and when he turns on the lights, Kendall can see that he’s soaked. “Kendall. Get up.”
Kendall blinks a few times, the light making his tired eyes ache. “What?”
“Get up.” James grabs Kendall by the wrist and pulls Kendall out of his bed.
Kendall stumbles off his bed and into James’ chest. He can feel James’ cool skin through his t-shirt, the way James’ chest is heaving with a mixture of panic and excitement, the thudthudthud of his heart against Kendall’s cheek.
“Why?”
“Because you’re going with us.”
It takes a second for that to process. “…Say wha?”
“Come on.” James yanks Kendall forward by his wrist, dragging him down the hallway as he continues. “Adams got injured. I asked Camille to put him under your name instead. You’re taking his.”
“What?!”
“I told you-“ James stops and turns to Kendall, and he’s all seriousness and ambition. “I’m not going without you.” He pulls his hooded sweatshirt off and throws it at Kendall. “Put this on. Put the hood up. Keep a low profile.”
And then they’re running through the hallways, and James’ fingers are digging into Kendall’s wrists. Kendall thinks this can’t possibly be happening. James is breaking, like, a million rules with this.
“James, are you out of your mind?! I can’t-“
“Shut up, Kendall.”
Kendall grimaces at the harshness in James’ tone. He’s not backing down. Not one inch. Kendall’s going, come hell or high water. When they spill out of the building and Kendall’s got mud splashing up to his knees, he’s pretty sure high water’s on its way.
He honestly doesn’t know how he feels about it. Knowing how he did on his test scares him. Knowing what his body is capable of when he sleeps scares him.
The weird feeling that churns in his chest when James’ hand claps around his wrist scares him.
He doesn’t think he’s ready for any of this. No, he knows he isn’t. He’s had that shoved in his face already. Sneaking onto a plane and going out into hell doesn’t seem like such a great idea when he’s actually doing it.
“I got him,” James says, pushing Kendal onto the plane without letting him stop long enough to be looked at. “Idiot was sleeping.”
Kendall briefly wonders how Adams got injured exactly. James hasn’t always been above sabotage to get what he wants. He always considered it part of the business, an inevitability - kill or be killed.
James pushes Kendall down into a seat and whispers harshly in his ear, “Don’t say anything.”
Kendall keeps his head down and his arms crossed. He’s shivering pretty badly, his clothes sticking to him, ice against his skin.
“Next time you’ll end up left behind,” Jett says with a drop of malice, glowering at Kendall. “Do you know how strict this schedule has to be?”
“Lay off him, Jett. This storm’s gonna slow us down anyway. We’ll be lucky if we even get there alive.” Lucy drops a towel in Kendall’s lap. “Dry up. You don’t need to be sick when we get there.” Kendall tenses up. Lucy pauses, peering at him. “…Adams?”
“Let’s go,” James interrupts, plopping down next to Kendall. “We don’t have time for small talk.”
“Hey, that’s not-“ Lucy starts. James glares her into silence.
“Later. We’ll talk later.”
“James… I don’t think-“
“Sit down Lucy,” Alicia says calmly. “Don’t want to be standing when we hit turbulence, boo.”
“Alicia-“
Alicia doesn’t respond. Lucy huffs and flops into her seat, staring Kendall down. After a quick headcount, the plane gets ready to take off, the cabin shaking around them. It’s not a private jet by any means. It’s one of those big army-planes that Kendall’s pretty sure people jump out of.
Are they going to jump out of the plane? Kendall doesn’t like that. He doesn’t like that at all. Skydiving is not on his list of things to do today. He reaches over and grips James’ hand, hidden beneath the folds of towels and wet clothes. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to breathe.
James is out of his fucking mind. Kendall makes sure to convey that in the white-knuckled death grip he has on the poor guy’s hand.
“So… what do you think… we’re going to run into in NYC?” Jett asks quietly after what seems like forever.
Kendall keeps his head down, certain his face is turning green from the jarring and jerking of the plane. He feels like his heart is in his throat.
“Same shit we’ve been running into since the war started.” Lucy crosses her legs. “Just gotta try not to die.” She pauses. “Think you can do that, Kendall?”
Kendall tenses. James glares at Lucy, almost like he thinks she’ll explode under his gaze. She merely stares back at him, smug.
“Damn it, Lucy. Keep it down,” James hisses.
“What?!” Jett is aghast, reaching over and pushing the hood of Kendall’s head. “You’re not supposed to be here!”
“Hence why we were being so hush hush about it,” Alicia replies, rolling her eyes. “Thanks for ruining it, Lucy-goosey.”
“You could have put me in on it,” Lucy growls. “Don’t get mad at me for not reading your minds and knowing your plans.”
“He’s not supposed to be here.” Jett is still stuck on that statement, pointing and looking like he’s been told he’s hideous or something. “He is not supposed to be here.”
“Yeah, I got that,” Kendall mutters bitterly, fighting the nerves in his chest. “Thanks.”
“What happened to Adams?” Lucy asks, clamping a hand over Jett’s mouth, when he tries to, once again, state the obvious.
“He got hurt. He was training,” James responds with ease. “I just switched out his name with Kendall’s so they think Kendall’s still back at base. Adams said it was cool.”
“Well of course he did. He doesn’t want to go running off to his death,” Lucy argues.
Kendall cringes. Death? He really doesn’t want to think about that.
“He’s not supposed to-“ Jett starts. Lucy punches him.
“Get out of your loop if you want to contribute to the conversation any further. Otherwise, shut up.”
“Look, there’s not going to be any turning back, so can we just keep quiet about this?” James asks. “There’s no point. I did it. It’s done.”
“But why James?”
Alicia looks like she knows. Kendall swallows and tries not to blush.
“Because he should get to go to New York. That’s why.”
James is being childish. Kendall’s starting to realize how stupid this decision might have been.
“Really? That’s it? That’s not enough of an argument.”
“You brought him with you because you want to get in his pants,” Jett suddenly explodes. “And that’s not a fucking good reason to put all of us in danger.” There’s a moment of silence. Kendall feels shame coloring his cheeks. Jett continues: “He can’t shoot a gun when he needs to. He’s not mentally stable enough to be thrown into the fray. And now all of us are going to have to pay for it. And it’s your fucking fault, Diamond.”
“I can…” Kendall starts, but he knows its shit, because he’s still terrified of the metal object strapped to him. “Jett. Just…”
“Fuck you, Jett,” James fights back, relinquishing Kendall’s hand, leaving it cold and clammy. He grabs Jett by the collar of his shirt. “I should knock all the teeth out of your mouth.”
“What, does that mean I’m right?”
“Fuck off. He’s my best friend. Some of us prefer not being alone.”
“None of us want to be alone right now. Why the hell do you think I let him survive in the first place? But that doesn’t mean I want to go walking into my own death because you can’t handle being a few miles away from him. He’s not ready--”
Kendall clenches his fists. “Please stop.” His voice sounds weary. “There’s no point.”
He’s sick of everyone treating him like a child. He knows he’s not perfect. He’s been jumping at his own shadow. He’s frozen with a gun in his hand more than once. But he’s not an idiot. He’s been trying ridiculously hard to get through the issues, and no one seems to notice the effort. Then, as if Lucy’s read his mind and decided just to piss him off, she asks:
“Kendall… you do know what you’re getting yourself into, don’t you?”
Kendall sighs, trying to loosen the tension from his features. “Lucy, if I die, I die. But I’ll be damned if I let anything happen to any of you. So I’d appreciate if you all stop babying me!” He gives a pointed look to Jett. He smiles a little. “I may be an asshole, Jett, but I’m loyal. You know that.”
Jett’s face warps, and for a second, there’s this shred of heartbreak in his eyes, the life draining from them. Then he wraps it all up behind a smug stony façade.
“You know what? Fine. Fine. I don’t care.” He flops back in his seat.
The plane gives a violent rock. Kendall closes his eyes and wills it all away.
…
“Hey.” Kendall is roughly shaken.
He doesn’t even remember falling asleep. In fact, he has no idea how exactly he could have with all the scary rocking of the plane, but he was definitely drooling on James’ shoulder. He blinks, pulling his head up, ignoring the painful crick aching in his neck.
“What? Where are we?”
“We’re landing,” Jett says roughly. He looks exhausted and moody. The argument from earlier still weighs heavily in the cabin.
Kendall’s just relieved they’re not skydiving.
“Alright, we have to split immediately,” Alicia says. “We can’t waltz in to the welcoming party. We’ll meet up later.”
Kendall feels panic welling in his heart, and he tries to squelch it as much as he can. He’s not about to chicken out, not after his big words earlier. He’s got to put his brave face on.
The weather has cleared, but they’re still shrouded in darkness, the night sky a black sheet above them as they step out into the grass. The moon is nonexistent, and the stars are faded little specks among a vast cyclorama. The air around them is dead and quiet. No wind. It makes all movements sound overstated and loud. It makes Kendall nervous.
“Get movin’,” Alicia whispers.
Off they go. Kendall tags along with James because he has no idea what else to do. He didn’t get the pep talk or the plan or anything. He just has to go with it.
They rush through trees, through crunchy grass, branches whipping and cutting at Kendall’s face. Their feet fall heavy on a long line of a bridge, shrouded in darkness. They move for what feels like eternities, Kendall’s side aching. He can’t see anything. He just follows the sound of James’ footfalls through the rush of water below. Then, suddenly they round a corner and they’re staring down civilization.
Or what’s left of it.
It’s not nearly as put together as St. Louis. Kendall can see in the faded orange streetlights, the shadowy figures, lurching and lurking about, guns at the ready. He’s hypnotized by the endless lines cracking along the sidewalks and streets, the crumbled buildings, the blood splattered upon the bricks.
He breathes. The air reeks strongly of smoke and the putrid stench of bodies. Kendall’s eye falls on one, slumped against a rusty metal dumpster, rotting away as it’s completely ignored.
That body belonged someone, Kendall can’t help but think. And now he’s just rotting away and no one cares. No one even looks up. That’s not right. It’s not fucking right.
James grabs Kendall’s wrist and pulls him flush against a wall, then crouches down, his hazel-amber eyes scanning the area.
Kendall has no idea where he is. He’s been to NYC at least a dozen times in his life, but he can’t find any landmarks that tell him anything. The city is completely unrecognizable. It’s been overrun and distorted.
“Shhh,” James says in a low whisper. “We don’t know who our friends are here. We need to keep away from the main roads and keep to ourselves as much as we can.”
Kendall nods a little warily. What are they supposed to be looking for? In the mass of dirty, angry faces, Kendall isn’t sure they’ll find any familiar faces.
They slide through dark alleyways, up fire escapes that nearly fall apart under their weight. They jump across rooftops like they’re superheroes. The smell of death lingers in the air, even at the higher altitude. It fills Kendall’s senses, and he feels sick. He has seen death. But he has been lucky to not see it in the mass quantities. He travelled alone for so long, out in the desert, where there was hardly population to begin with. He’d stumble upon a corpse once in a while, but he’s just not used to it.
He wasn’t prepared for this. He shouldn’t have come. *
“Do you know where we’re supposed to meet-“ Kendall starts.
James nods, cutting him off. “We’re close.”
Kendall doesn’t even know how James can read the terrain. He casts a skillful eye out ahead of him like he’s been in this situation for centuries. Kendall follows James’ gaze, hoping for a little clarity of his own. He’s not sure if it’s the stench blurring his senses or just the complete disorientation with the entirety of the city. It just rises and goes on for miles, and Kendall feels like he’s being swallowed up by the looming concrete.
Then he sees it. The flash of curly black hair, moving up a stoop into an old, broken down townhouse. Alicia!
“Keep low. We go separately. Stay here for five minutes, then move. Do you understand?” James says.
Kendall doesn’t like the idea of being left alone, but he nods. James is gone in a flash. Kendall feels a chill wash over him in James’ absence. He counts the seconds. It takes eternities. He feels eyes on him, nerves twisting and bundling in his chest. He closes his eyes and focuses on his breathing. And then he’s running, ducking behind old broken down cars and chunks of buildings that didn’t withstand the explosions, until he’s certain he can make the rest of the trek to the door of the building. He pushes through the door with his heart pounding in his ears.
“Hey, good job. I don’t think anyone saw you.”
Kendall looks up to the familiar voice, his heart plummeting at the sound.
“Guitar Dude…” he says, and it sounds more relieved than he envisioned.
The boy is frighteningly skinny, his long dark locks still hanging in his stubble-covered face. But God, he’s a sight for sore eyes.
“Wassup?”
Chapter: 7/???
Rating: M, more than likely
Ship: Kames, eventually. Logan/Camille, Jett/OFC, maybe more.
Summary: "He doesn’t know how he escaped the first L.A. explosion. It incinerated his home, his workplace, people he cared about. Or, he supposes it did. He knows the physical area isn’t standing. The people, he has no clue. He arrived too late. No one was to be found."
Author's Note: Um. So. I don't know what this is. I guess
garnetice would classify it as apoca!fic. So. Hey, look at me, on the bandwagon. Anyway, I definitely have her to thank, for betaing, and for inspiring me with her latest fic In Fair Verona. Still don't know where this came from, but let's see what I can do with it.
Chapter Seven
Thunder booms and shakes the whole building. Kendall jumps out of a dead sleep, his heart pounding at the sound, ears ringing.
Rain is pelting the window, leaking through little edges where the caulk has worn away. Kendall clutches his blankets close to him, a sudden sadness washing over him. There’s a plane somewhere out there, willing to brave the weather. Before the war, it wouldn’t be thought of. But now? It’s the perfect cover. And if they die, it’s not that shocking.
Almost everyone Kendall knows in the place is getting on that plane - off to New York; maybe off to their watery graves.
He doesn’t want them to go.
His door slams open and Kendall jumps again, lighting filling the room with white light and dousing him in darkness again.
“Kendall.”
It’s James. He’s out of breath, and when he turns on the lights, Kendall can see that he’s soaked. “Kendall. Get up.”
Kendall blinks a few times, the light making his tired eyes ache. “What?”
“Get up.” James grabs Kendall by the wrist and pulls Kendall out of his bed.
Kendall stumbles off his bed and into James’ chest. He can feel James’ cool skin through his t-shirt, the way James’ chest is heaving with a mixture of panic and excitement, the thudthudthud of his heart against Kendall’s cheek.
“Why?”
“Because you’re going with us.”
It takes a second for that to process. “…Say wha?”
“Come on.” James yanks Kendall forward by his wrist, dragging him down the hallway as he continues. “Adams got injured. I asked Camille to put him under your name instead. You’re taking his.”
“What?!”
“I told you-“ James stops and turns to Kendall, and he’s all seriousness and ambition. “I’m not going without you.” He pulls his hooded sweatshirt off and throws it at Kendall. “Put this on. Put the hood up. Keep a low profile.”
And then they’re running through the hallways, and James’ fingers are digging into Kendall’s wrists. Kendall thinks this can’t possibly be happening. James is breaking, like, a million rules with this.
“James, are you out of your mind?! I can’t-“
“Shut up, Kendall.”
Kendall grimaces at the harshness in James’ tone. He’s not backing down. Not one inch. Kendall’s going, come hell or high water. When they spill out of the building and Kendall’s got mud splashing up to his knees, he’s pretty sure high water’s on its way.
He honestly doesn’t know how he feels about it. Knowing how he did on his test scares him. Knowing what his body is capable of when he sleeps scares him.
The weird feeling that churns in his chest when James’ hand claps around his wrist scares him.
He doesn’t think he’s ready for any of this. No, he knows he isn’t. He’s had that shoved in his face already. Sneaking onto a plane and going out into hell doesn’t seem like such a great idea when he’s actually doing it.
“I got him,” James says, pushing Kendal onto the plane without letting him stop long enough to be looked at. “Idiot was sleeping.”
Kendall briefly wonders how Adams got injured exactly. James hasn’t always been above sabotage to get what he wants. He always considered it part of the business, an inevitability - kill or be killed.
James pushes Kendall down into a seat and whispers harshly in his ear, “Don’t say anything.”
Kendall keeps his head down and his arms crossed. He’s shivering pretty badly, his clothes sticking to him, ice against his skin.
“Next time you’ll end up left behind,” Jett says with a drop of malice, glowering at Kendall. “Do you know how strict this schedule has to be?”
“Lay off him, Jett. This storm’s gonna slow us down anyway. We’ll be lucky if we even get there alive.” Lucy drops a towel in Kendall’s lap. “Dry up. You don’t need to be sick when we get there.” Kendall tenses up. Lucy pauses, peering at him. “…Adams?”
“Let’s go,” James interrupts, plopping down next to Kendall. “We don’t have time for small talk.”
“Hey, that’s not-“ Lucy starts. James glares her into silence.
“Later. We’ll talk later.”
“James… I don’t think-“
“Sit down Lucy,” Alicia says calmly. “Don’t want to be standing when we hit turbulence, boo.”
“Alicia-“
Alicia doesn’t respond. Lucy huffs and flops into her seat, staring Kendall down. After a quick headcount, the plane gets ready to take off, the cabin shaking around them. It’s not a private jet by any means. It’s one of those big army-planes that Kendall’s pretty sure people jump out of.
Are they going to jump out of the plane? Kendall doesn’t like that. He doesn’t like that at all. Skydiving is not on his list of things to do today. He reaches over and grips James’ hand, hidden beneath the folds of towels and wet clothes. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to breathe.
James is out of his fucking mind. Kendall makes sure to convey that in the white-knuckled death grip he has on the poor guy’s hand.
“So… what do you think… we’re going to run into in NYC?” Jett asks quietly after what seems like forever.
Kendall keeps his head down, certain his face is turning green from the jarring and jerking of the plane. He feels like his heart is in his throat.
“Same shit we’ve been running into since the war started.” Lucy crosses her legs. “Just gotta try not to die.” She pauses. “Think you can do that, Kendall?”
Kendall tenses. James glares at Lucy, almost like he thinks she’ll explode under his gaze. She merely stares back at him, smug.
“Damn it, Lucy. Keep it down,” James hisses.
“What?!” Jett is aghast, reaching over and pushing the hood of Kendall’s head. “You’re not supposed to be here!”
“Hence why we were being so hush hush about it,” Alicia replies, rolling her eyes. “Thanks for ruining it, Lucy-goosey.”
“You could have put me in on it,” Lucy growls. “Don’t get mad at me for not reading your minds and knowing your plans.”
“He’s not supposed to be here.” Jett is still stuck on that statement, pointing and looking like he’s been told he’s hideous or something. “He is not supposed to be here.”
“Yeah, I got that,” Kendall mutters bitterly, fighting the nerves in his chest. “Thanks.”
“What happened to Adams?” Lucy asks, clamping a hand over Jett’s mouth, when he tries to, once again, state the obvious.
“He got hurt. He was training,” James responds with ease. “I just switched out his name with Kendall’s so they think Kendall’s still back at base. Adams said it was cool.”
“Well of course he did. He doesn’t want to go running off to his death,” Lucy argues.
Kendall cringes. Death? He really doesn’t want to think about that.
“He’s not supposed to-“ Jett starts. Lucy punches him.
“Get out of your loop if you want to contribute to the conversation any further. Otherwise, shut up.”
“Look, there’s not going to be any turning back, so can we just keep quiet about this?” James asks. “There’s no point. I did it. It’s done.”
“But why James?”
Alicia looks like she knows. Kendall swallows and tries not to blush.
“Because he should get to go to New York. That’s why.”
James is being childish. Kendall’s starting to realize how stupid this decision might have been.
“Really? That’s it? That’s not enough of an argument.”
“You brought him with you because you want to get in his pants,” Jett suddenly explodes. “And that’s not a fucking good reason to put all of us in danger.” There’s a moment of silence. Kendall feels shame coloring his cheeks. Jett continues: “He can’t shoot a gun when he needs to. He’s not mentally stable enough to be thrown into the fray. And now all of us are going to have to pay for it. And it’s your fucking fault, Diamond.”
“I can…” Kendall starts, but he knows its shit, because he’s still terrified of the metal object strapped to him. “Jett. Just…”
“Fuck you, Jett,” James fights back, relinquishing Kendall’s hand, leaving it cold and clammy. He grabs Jett by the collar of his shirt. “I should knock all the teeth out of your mouth.”
“What, does that mean I’m right?”
“Fuck off. He’s my best friend. Some of us prefer not being alone.”
“None of us want to be alone right now. Why the hell do you think I let him survive in the first place? But that doesn’t mean I want to go walking into my own death because you can’t handle being a few miles away from him. He’s not ready--”
Kendall clenches his fists. “Please stop.” His voice sounds weary. “There’s no point.”
He’s sick of everyone treating him like a child. He knows he’s not perfect. He’s been jumping at his own shadow. He’s frozen with a gun in his hand more than once. But he’s not an idiot. He’s been trying ridiculously hard to get through the issues, and no one seems to notice the effort. Then, as if Lucy’s read his mind and decided just to piss him off, she asks:
“Kendall… you do know what you’re getting yourself into, don’t you?”
Kendall sighs, trying to loosen the tension from his features. “Lucy, if I die, I die. But I’ll be damned if I let anything happen to any of you. So I’d appreciate if you all stop babying me!” He gives a pointed look to Jett. He smiles a little. “I may be an asshole, Jett, but I’m loyal. You know that.”
Jett’s face warps, and for a second, there’s this shred of heartbreak in his eyes, the life draining from them. Then he wraps it all up behind a smug stony façade.
“You know what? Fine. Fine. I don’t care.” He flops back in his seat.
The plane gives a violent rock. Kendall closes his eyes and wills it all away.
…
“Hey.” Kendall is roughly shaken.
He doesn’t even remember falling asleep. In fact, he has no idea how exactly he could have with all the scary rocking of the plane, but he was definitely drooling on James’ shoulder. He blinks, pulling his head up, ignoring the painful crick aching in his neck.
“What? Where are we?”
“We’re landing,” Jett says roughly. He looks exhausted and moody. The argument from earlier still weighs heavily in the cabin.
Kendall’s just relieved they’re not skydiving.
“Alright, we have to split immediately,” Alicia says. “We can’t waltz in to the welcoming party. We’ll meet up later.”
Kendall feels panic welling in his heart, and he tries to squelch it as much as he can. He’s not about to chicken out, not after his big words earlier. He’s got to put his brave face on.
The weather has cleared, but they’re still shrouded in darkness, the night sky a black sheet above them as they step out into the grass. The moon is nonexistent, and the stars are faded little specks among a vast cyclorama. The air around them is dead and quiet. No wind. It makes all movements sound overstated and loud. It makes Kendall nervous.
“Get movin’,” Alicia whispers.
Off they go. Kendall tags along with James because he has no idea what else to do. He didn’t get the pep talk or the plan or anything. He just has to go with it.
They rush through trees, through crunchy grass, branches whipping and cutting at Kendall’s face. Their feet fall heavy on a long line of a bridge, shrouded in darkness. They move for what feels like eternities, Kendall’s side aching. He can’t see anything. He just follows the sound of James’ footfalls through the rush of water below. Then, suddenly they round a corner and they’re staring down civilization.
Or what’s left of it.
It’s not nearly as put together as St. Louis. Kendall can see in the faded orange streetlights, the shadowy figures, lurching and lurking about, guns at the ready. He’s hypnotized by the endless lines cracking along the sidewalks and streets, the crumbled buildings, the blood splattered upon the bricks.
He breathes. The air reeks strongly of smoke and the putrid stench of bodies. Kendall’s eye falls on one, slumped against a rusty metal dumpster, rotting away as it’s completely ignored.
That body belonged someone, Kendall can’t help but think. And now he’s just rotting away and no one cares. No one even looks up. That’s not right. It’s not fucking right.
James grabs Kendall’s wrist and pulls him flush against a wall, then crouches down, his hazel-amber eyes scanning the area.
Kendall has no idea where he is. He’s been to NYC at least a dozen times in his life, but he can’t find any landmarks that tell him anything. The city is completely unrecognizable. It’s been overrun and distorted.
“Shhh,” James says in a low whisper. “We don’t know who our friends are here. We need to keep away from the main roads and keep to ourselves as much as we can.”
Kendall nods a little warily. What are they supposed to be looking for? In the mass of dirty, angry faces, Kendall isn’t sure they’ll find any familiar faces.
They slide through dark alleyways, up fire escapes that nearly fall apart under their weight. They jump across rooftops like they’re superheroes. The smell of death lingers in the air, even at the higher altitude. It fills Kendall’s senses, and he feels sick. He has seen death. But he has been lucky to not see it in the mass quantities. He travelled alone for so long, out in the desert, where there was hardly population to begin with. He’d stumble upon a corpse once in a while, but he’s just not used to it.
He wasn’t prepared for this. He shouldn’t have come. *
“Do you know where we’re supposed to meet-“ Kendall starts.
James nods, cutting him off. “We’re close.”
Kendall doesn’t even know how James can read the terrain. He casts a skillful eye out ahead of him like he’s been in this situation for centuries. Kendall follows James’ gaze, hoping for a little clarity of his own. He’s not sure if it’s the stench blurring his senses or just the complete disorientation with the entirety of the city. It just rises and goes on for miles, and Kendall feels like he’s being swallowed up by the looming concrete.
Then he sees it. The flash of curly black hair, moving up a stoop into an old, broken down townhouse. Alicia!
“Keep low. We go separately. Stay here for five minutes, then move. Do you understand?” James says.
Kendall doesn’t like the idea of being left alone, but he nods. James is gone in a flash. Kendall feels a chill wash over him in James’ absence. He counts the seconds. It takes eternities. He feels eyes on him, nerves twisting and bundling in his chest. He closes his eyes and focuses on his breathing. And then he’s running, ducking behind old broken down cars and chunks of buildings that didn’t withstand the explosions, until he’s certain he can make the rest of the trek to the door of the building. He pushes through the door with his heart pounding in his ears.
“Hey, good job. I don’t think anyone saw you.”
Kendall looks up to the familiar voice, his heart plummeting at the sound.
“Guitar Dude…” he says, and it sounds more relieved than he envisioned.
The boy is frighteningly skinny, his long dark locks still hanging in his stubble-covered face. But God, he’s a sight for sore eyes.
“Wassup?”