The Virus

[potassiumboron]

Saturdays in July had been the highlight of many people's years before the Virus. With the hot weather and the weekend combining, people flocked to the beaches, held barbecues on their front lawns, or simply sat inside, in the cool shade, with a nice cold glass of iced tea. No matter what anyone did on these days, it always had the benefit of seeming relaxed, more enjoyable than on any other Summer day.

Though, that was before the sickness spread some several months ago. Any chance of enjoying a hot day in July in the usual fashion evaporated. People were either killed by those infected, or ended up infected themselves.

Simply, life as everyone knew it changed drastically overnight.

Nobody was safe, and hardly many survived. Those that did could hardly sit back on the current July afternoon to absorb the bright sun. No, they had to hide away, unable to return to any normality in the fear that they would be killed if they took their eye off survival. That was the key aim among all surviving humans: continue to survive, by any means necessary.

And that had been Logan's aim since the outbreak, to survive unharmed and see the whole thing as some adventure. Granted, his outlook on the outbreak was immature. Seeing it as a big video game and not a true matter of life and death would guarantee death for most people, but it was always how Logan had seen things. He was always adventurous, making the smallest things in life more grand for better enjoyment. He had been like that as a child, with a vivid imagination and wild creativity being the perfect combination to aid his adventurous streak. It wasn't any surprise that the virus spreading would be seized by him as a chance to pretend he was in a video game or a movie, slaughtering the zombie-like attackers and reigning as the heroic and manly defeater.

Obviously, though, life was a little more complex than that. Despite spending months surprisingly surviving no matter how childish he had been, that eventually ended on the present day after being bit by one of the men he had often met up with to buy weapons and then sleep with. That bite was wrapped up tightly around his hand. The last thing he needed was people realising he had become infected. He had contacts he had built up on the street among the surviving and unaffected humans, and as close as the bonds had become since the outbreak, he knew he would be shot without sympathy if they discovered his ailment.

So, perhaps in the first wise move he had made in those months, he had packed up a few belongings and opted to find a place to live where nobody could come check up on him out of worry. If he stayed, that would have inevitably happened, and he didn't want to be discovered laying on his couch, coughing up blood and desiring human flesh. That really wasn't cool, and if Logan wanted anything in life, it was to maintain his coolness.

He was risking a lot by deciding to head out on the street and find someplace new, but he still had his trusty gun and a generally strong fighting spirit, so he figured he would be okay. And that was where he currently stood, inside what appeared to be an abandoned apartment building, far enough from his own to avoid people he knew-- even if the apartment building was where Zackarie lived. Unaware of that twist of fate, the man quietly trudged up the stairs in an effort to wisely reach the third or fourth floor, all while keeping his guard up. Despite that, he was also stupidly humming to himself, not at all subtly. As wise as some of his recent decisions had been, he was still bringing attention to himself-- simply because he refused to accept the danger he was in.​

 

[saturnia pavonia]

"Food? Check. Water? Check. Batteries? Check..." he listed off in a whisper, a clipboard and pencil in hand. Zackarie wasn't one to do things willy-nilly. He liked order, and control, and there weren't many ways to keep that nowadays. Not only that, but, in his mind, he would insist that it was the key to his survival. While others would wander from place to place, he was far more content with remaining nice and snug in his home.

The day was going rather normally. He was one of the last people in the apartment complex, the two remaining being a woman and her son, and seasoned police officer, both of which were on the fourth floor. He didn't really interact with the three, only when trading briefly with them for things like food, while he would offer blankets for warmth. It was a system that worked, so he couldn't really complain. He wasn't completely alone, but he was alone enough that he could enjoy himself in peace without constantly being prodded.

Once finishing his checklist, he returned to his favorite hobby of wrapping himself in his many blankets and turned on his battery TV, waiting patiently for updates. It wasn't until he heard whistling that he curiously rolled from his pile to peak through the eyehole, confused on just who would be casually wandering about the apartment complex. When spotting the familiar man, he closed the hole in panic, his brow furrowed. Why would he be here?!

 

[potassiumboron]

Now, Logan obviously had no idea that his former best friend and ex-boyfriend lived in that apartment building. It had been a good four years since he last saw him, after high school had ended. Even though the two still lived in the same city, the areas were so different that they hadn't had the fortune of bumping into one another. After his mother became financially bankrupt, his own prospects had subsequently faded too, so when he left school and became a builder, he only had enough money to buy a small apartment in a less than desirable area. At least the outbreak of the virus meant he now had a chance to inhabit a fancy apartment that had long since been abandoned.

Humming in approval at the fancy interior -even if most of building was covered in blood and mess-, Logan's first objective was to ensure that the apartments were empty or, if they weren't, they were inhabited with people who weren't infected, hence why he proceeded to knock on the doors with his fists. Most, if not all, were unlocked after people had fled or been killed, meaning he could glance in, examine the area before moving on. He was just going to check the third floor, and if all was empty, he was simply going to choose one, lock up and get some sleep. That sounded like a decent plan.

Until coming to the first locked door, anyway. Banging hard on the wood, he stood back with a calm frown, with one hand hesitating over his gun just in case. "Yo, anyone in? Look, I come in peace or whatever I'm supposed to say-- hey, I'm not infected, I'm totally fine, just looking for a place to stay-- you guys gonna answer me or not? I have food, if you wanna share," he offered loudly, glancing at the peephole and, anticipating that whoever was inside was peering out, shot a handsome grin and a wave. "Hey, you can see me, can't you? See, if I was infected, I'd be foaming at the mouth and moaning about eating your insides, wouldn't I?"​

 

[saturnia pavonia]

A moment of nothing followed, until the slot opened once again, a red eye poking through curiously. In all honesty, food would be amazing at the moment, though the anxiety of seeing his old flame nearly forced the idea of helping the man, out of his mind. With a soft sigh, he decided to at least inquire on just what the other had before swinging open his door and let Logan in.

"... What kind of food?" His naturally meek voice replied, it being barely audible through the thick door and the many, many boards he set up for his safety. "How do I know you're being honest? I... I can't let you in if you're lying, okay?" As he spoke, he desperately hoped that he looked and sounded different enough to convince that he wasn't Logan's ex-friend, though how many albinos were wandering around in Florida?

 

[potassiumboron]

Just when he had been about to give up, assuming that, if there was anyone inside, they were dead or simply didn't want to open up (which was also understandable), he paused at the meek whisper answering back at him. Grinning wide to himself in triumph, because finding someone to talk to these days was rare, he immediately dropped his bag to tug out the food he had scavenged together.

"I have some tins of fruit, see? And some bags of chips, nothing fancy, but I've managed to get them-- can I come in, then? I mean, we can share some food. I'll give you all my tins of fruit in return for some beer, if you happen to have some of that. I haven't had a good beer in weeks. I'm Logan, by the way. I don't really want to keep talking to a door, or stay out in this creepy ass corridor," he continued with a broad motion over the area, before running his hand through his dyed hair quietly. He didn't recognise the other's voice at all, maybe because it was quiet and hushed, but his own was recognisable instantly. He retained his heavy Polish accent, despite having moved from the country when he was young.

"I'm not a bad guy-- would a bad guy have a cat? I mean, sure, evil guys in movies have cats sometimes, but... come on, you're gonna say no to her?" Logan beamed, lifting his cat up to the peephole with a satisfactory laugh. "She's pretty old and sick, so I'd kinda like a blanket too, if that's cool. She has, like, three legs-- if I was infected, I'd have eaten her by now, right? I dunno what else I can say to convince 'ya, mate."​

 

[saturnia pavonia]

Another paused followed, before the sound of nails being tugged out of the boards he set up could be heard. It was a bit annoying, having to tug out nails every time he wanted to go out, though he found it completely worth it. He didn't leave very often, anyway, so spending a few minutes pulling out and setting back the boards wasn't something that really bothered him.

Once opening the door, the sound of the television and the light it reflected was far more obvious. With tired eyes, he peaked a tad through the crack in the door, contemplating just how much he was willing to embarrass himself, though those cans of fruit were tempting, and he was always a fan of Logan's cat. He had honestly assumed she had died years ago, or at least had been eaten, though he couldn't help but smile when noticing her. Shyly, he cracked the door open further to expose his exhausted self, his eyes nervously avoiding Logan's in fear of how he would react. For all he knew, the man could instantly begin to taunt him like he did in school, or simply leave. The best case scenario was that he would forget him.

"Uh... Come in, quick. I don't like having the door open for long..."

 

[potassiumboron]

Once hearing the door begin to open, albeit after the sounds of heavy planks being removed first, Logan eagerly swooped his backpack back over his shoulder while cradling his cat in one arm easily. Since she had been a kitten, she had mostly been dependent on him to get around, and so he did admittedly treat her far more than a cat ought to be, especially in more recent times. Though, he felt he had a reason. If he just left her wandering off, she would be killed and eaten. He would happily sacrifice himself first before allowing that to happen to the one consistent thing in his life.

However, his bright smile and optimistically shining eyes faded simultaneously at the person he was faced with. Things hadn't ended brilliantly the last time they saw one another. He vividly remembered that he let a few friends shove Zackarie into the lockers, and he hadn't really stepped in to help out-- but that was in high school! He was an idiot back then, and he had matured greatly, he would claim... even though he had pretended that he was living in a zombie movie, but he was going to neglect mentioning that. Yet, when the shock of seeing him faded, he casually grinned and coolly wandered in, doing his best to keep things as calm as they could be.

"Uh, hey Zack, long time huh? You survived this far then? Pretty cool, cool cool cool..." He trailed off, setting Mars down on the mound of blankets and plopping himself down as though he had often visited Zack, and they were still best friends. Hell, he went as far as to place his feet up on the table casually. The fact he knew Zack and had such a familiar past had instantly relaxed him-- but when was he never not relaxed?

"It's great seeing 'ya," he finally remarked, peeking across with a ghost of a smile. "...Thought you'd be dead by now, to be honest. Lots of people are. You remember Sarah, from school? I swear I saw her tearing a rat to shreds outside just now. I almost shot her, to be honest."​

 

[saturnia pavonia]

"Good, she deserved it." He replied flatly, before beginning to set the boards up once more, wincing every time the hammer made a significant sound. He knew he was pretty far from most of the zombies, but his anxiety still told him that there was a small chance that he'd be suddenly dealt with a zombie trying to scratch at him. He moved quickly, as usual, before warily taking a seat besides the blankets, eyeing Mars with a faint smile, though it dropped upon landing on Logan.

"I'm only letting you stay here because you have food and I like your cat, I hope you know that. I... really didn't expect to, nor wanted to, see you again, after all. Now, will you get your feet off of my table? You already tracked in guts and mud, now I'll have to clean that." He bitterly murmured, before scooting closer to the TV to adjust the signal, frowning heavily as he returned to lock his gaze on the frantic newscasters.

"... How can you act as if everything is fine, Logan? You spend four years pushing me into lockers and giving me swirlies, and then four years of nothing, and you think you have the right to just wander in and act as if we're still friends? You're... You're a moron, if that's the case," he continued in his notoriously soft voice, though that didn't mean he wasn't passionate in his words. While he spoke, he refused to lay an eye on the other, and absently decided to carefully pet Mars, hoping she'd remember him.

 

[potassiumboron]

"...Oh, yeah. Right. I guess I can't just assume that you've left all that in the past, huh? I mean, hey, the world's ending and people are killing each other out there, but sure, carry on holding a grudge over some of my adolescent idiocy, Zack," he sarcastically responded, albeit without any bitterness or genuine irritation. As cruel as his behaviour had been in the latter part of high school, it was never intentionally malicious. He didn't really have that in him, to hurt somebody willingly, so to see how hurt Zack was after so long did set the message in that he had been far worse than he imagined, even if he refused to properly acknowledge it.

"Anyway, let's not bicker! It's great seeing you, anyway!" He attempted to smile, just to avoid the tension. He hadn't trekked across the city to find a new home, just to be made to feel this awkward. Zack had been an important part of his life, and hell, it wasn't just a coincidence that they ended up back in the same apartment, was it? He was a believer in fate, and this seemed pretty good evidence of that.

"I mean, this is pretty cool, ain't it? Me and you, back together, fighting the trails of zombies that ravage the city... You got guns, right? We can shoot 'em from the roof!" He beamed excitedly, rummaging in his bag to hand over the promised fruit. It was hard to believe how harsh he had been in high school, because the excited display he was currently showing epitomised just how he had been as a child: excitable, lively and immature. "They ain't people, you got to remember that. The less of them, the more chance we have of surviving, I think."​

 

[saturnia pavonia]

"I don't have any weapons," he admitted, while moving to awkwardly wrap himself up in the blankets. He wanted to slap Logan across the face in anger, especially over just how relaxed and indifferent. "I have a knife from my kitchen, I guess, um... Sorry..." he whispered, before cracking his knuckles nervously.

"Just... pass me some fruit," he ordered as sternly as he could, taking it happily before savagely tearing open the can with his teeth. Call it picky, but he wandered towards the surprisingly clean sink to pour the sugary juice out, and snatched the equally as clean spoon from the drawer. If it wasn't for the lack of lighting, which was replaced by candles that he smuggled and his TV screen, and the boarded up windows and door, his apartment seemed relatively normal. Keeping the place clean passed the time, and was a bit fun to keep his mind busy. Once sitting again, he ate the canned fruit with little care for the man besides him.

 

[potassiumboron]

"Woah, alright, chill. I can't get my hands on more food for you, sorry about that. I knew a guy, but I can't visit him now. He's... infected," lied Logan with a casual shrug, putting his feet back on the table after kicking his shoes off, and setting Mars onto his lap to gently pet back her white fur that had, surprisingly, remained its pure white colour despite the chaos and dirtiness of the city. It was thanks to Logan, of course. Whenever he took her out and she got splattered with blood and dirt, he used all the water he could find to clean her back up again. She was the one thing he loved in life at the moment, and he wasn't going to leave her looking anything but pristine.

"You can go and get food, though. I'll come and protect you with my trusty ol' gun. It'll be like those games we played as kids, y'know? When I'd pretend to be Robin Hood and shoot arrows at trees and all that shit. We can be mates again, I'd like that-- but oh yeah, I'm the bad guy, aren't I? Because I became popular and acted like an idiot, I'm suddenly evil and cruel and all those years we spent together are forgotten," he remarked, his hazel eyes rolling and lounging back against the couch, glancing across to gauge his reaction. It was typical of him to speak and hope for a reaction, as evidenced by his growing smirk. "C'mon, chill. You're making me anxious. We're fine. I'm brilliant at this zombie stuff. It's like a video game, really. I know how to survive, it's good that you let me stay here. I'll keep you alive, sunshine."​

 

[saturnia pavonia]

"If anyone forgot what we had, it was you. I didn't give a shit about you being popular, I just thought you were above that, and wouldn't let it get to your head," he replied, his tone surprisingly growing louder, which was pretty indicative of just how frustrated he was. "I thought that you'd still be my friend- we lost our virginity, Logan. Did that really mean nothing to you? Probably not. You've... You've always only given a shit about yourself, huh?"

Of course, it was mostly his paranoia that spoke for him on that last part. Sure, Logan most likely still cared, but simply moved on. Nonetheless, Zackarie had immediately assumed that he was simply being used by the other during their childhood, for one reason or another. As he twirled the syrup about in the can, he shot a glare towards the other man.

"I don't need your help, Logan. I've gone on just fine without you, haven't I? Look, you even have a cut on your hand. How did you manage that? By walking about haphazardly on the streets? You're lucky that Mars wasn't hurt, with the way you've apparently been living."

 

[potassiumboron]

"...Okay, firstly, ouch. I never cared about anyone but myself? Harsh. Really savage, thanks for that. What we had was special to me. You helped me, I helped you, we were boyfriends, albeit on the sly. But I cared about you, dumbass. Popularity meant a lot to me, when my homelife was fucking crumbling. Not an excuse, just an explanation," he shrugged, protectively holding his hand when that was mentioned. The bandage at least masked the truth, because, beneath it, the infected bite mark would be difficult to explain, and it probably would get him thrown out into the cold, even by Zack who he hoped would have his back, despite everything.

"This old thing? I cut myself on some glass. It's not a big deal. I'm not an idiot, by the way. I've lived how I always have, and it's how I've survived. I wouldn't put Mars in danger, she's way too precious for that. I've just survived. You've clearly cooped yourself up, I've decided to head outside and still live my life, make some adventure out of this-- but my apartment wasn't safe any longer. It's overrun with infected people, I had to live," he explained after a moment of awkward silence to hitch Mars up close to his chest, the simple thought that his recklessness could have killed her causing him to pout, if only for a few seconds. "Anyway, we can start afresh, can't we? Be mates again? I could be dead tomorrow, Zack. You could, too, y'know?"​

 

[saturnia pavonia]

"No, I couldn't, because I'm prepared. I have food, water, medicine, and a solid foundation to protection. I've got proper safety techniques- I asked Paul to try and bash down the door, and he couldn't. He's a police officer, Logan. If he can't break it down, then some mindless zombie couldn't either. What do you have? A shotgun? Nothing else? That's so f-fucking dumb." He snapped, before carefully moving to wash the can up in the aforementioned sink once finished with his food, and rummaged for the sandpaper he had hoarded. He began to work the edges to smooth them out, figuring that it would make a proper cup to hold water if need be.

"Do you know how angry I am?" He asked, while glancing back, his red eyes locked on the other. "Not only did you completely abandon me and just decided that you'll randomly ignore that fact, but you decided to be a complete moron by putting yourself in danger."

 

[potassiumboron]

"You're angry that I put myself in danger, meaning you'd care if I got hurt? Aw, it took some time, but it's nice to see you still care for me," he responded with a cheeky glint in his eye. Okay, so he might be pushing his luck, but he wouldn't be himself if he just apologised over and over and begged forgiveness. He just wasn't like that. He was cheeky and unapologetic, but, seeing just how badly he had hurt Zack, he did sigh heavily and rest his head back to look at him.

"I'm real sorry that I fucked up in high school, okay? Can we move on now, 'cause I don't think arguing is going to really help us much. What is going to help is you finding a decent weapon, okay? You can be as smart and as prepared as you want, but you need to be able to defend yourself," he said, even if he knew himself that being as tough as anything could still get you infected. He was equipped with a weapon, he was clearly tough enough to deal with an attack... and yet he was currently nursing a fresh bite and awaiting the inevitable consequences. He had a good week or two before the symptoms became obvious, and he was banking on Zack liking him enough to spare his life when that time came. For that, he needed him to stop hating him. "...We're best friends, or were. You were sort of my only friend, and yeah, I fucked up, but that's on me. I'll make up for it. I'll find some food later, some proper food..."​

 

[saturnia pavonia]

"You honestly think that getting me some food will just magically clear up all the horrible stuff you did to me?" He scoffed, his sanding only growing more intense as he kept his gaze on the other. "I tried to fucking kill myself when you left. You were my only friend, and to have you suddenly drop me like I was nothing made me feel useless. I've spent years thinking of ways to make you feel like that, Logan, but I'm the bigger person. If I wasn't, I would have left you to get bitten. I don't know how long you intend to stay here, but I need more than just some food."

 

[potassiumboron]

"What do you want, sex? I'll pay with sex," he decided playfully, only realising how unwanted his jokes were when the hard glare was sent his way. Retrieving a tin from his bag for himself, having no concept of rationing, he tugged it open rather easily and dived in with his fingers, letting Mars eat from his hand before taking a piece of peach for himself.

"I... know you tried to hurt yourself. Your folks went mental with my Mom, but I... look, I feel real bad, okay? I was caught up in being popular, it was intoxicating and whatever other smart words that mean the same thing. I was an idiot-- do you want to slap me? Go for it, I'm used to it. I had this boyfriend who was into this pain thing during sex, so I'm pretty immune to a slap across the face," he laughed with a hefty shrug, moving to lay down along the couch in an attempt to relax again. "Seriously though, I want to be mates again. I've missed you, seriously. How have you been? Stuck in here for the last few months? You haven't... got a boyfriend or anything?"​

 

[saturnia pavonia]

"I haven't dated or had sex or anything since we stopped being friends. I... pretty much just focused on my studies, got into college to be a doctor- though, I guess it doesn't really matter now, huh? I got a job as a pharmacist, that's where I got all the medicine," he explained, his voice having finally eased back to it's quiet state.

"My mom died, and my dad just upped and moved to the west coast. I don't blame him, I guess. I've been planning to move myself, though I need more supplies," he continued, though his voice tapered off. "... what have you been doing?"

 

[potassiumboron]

"...Your Mom died? Shit, I... sorry. Really, that's awful," he immediately sighed, knowing that he had been out of the picture, but to have failed to realise his mother had died really hit home on how far apart the two had drifted. He couldn't make up for the years lost, not really, but he could try to be a better friend-- for the next two weeks, anyway. After that, he was going to struggle to convince Zack he could be a good friend, when he also wanted to tear him up and eat him.

"Me? Hey, I've been a-okay. I've relaxed a lot with Mars, had a few boyfriends, nothing serious... I mean, my parents are god knows where. They both sort of just... left, which is cool. I'm an adult, they didn't have to stick around. My Dad left after the divorce, but that's fine too. He was a homophobic asshole," he shrugged to himself, absently running a finger along the bandage. He wasn't going to admit that he had been infected, even if the urge to blurt it out to Zack was there. Zack had been someone he confessed everything to, and that urge apparently remained, even after all these years. "Oh! I got a few tattoos, one of Mars on my wrist, actually. Just to immortalise her when she eventually dies-- and I dyed my hair white, pretty rad right?"​

 

[saturnia pavonia]

"Were you inspired by me?" He offered to tease, before carefully setting the smoothed up in his cabinet and wandering to sit back and wrap himself in the blankets. Just because Logan was around didn't mean he was going to give up how he lived completely. "Real original... Look, I didn't really, uh... know she was as sick as she was. I was at school, and my dad just texted me to come to the hospital. I skipped a lab for it, just to find out that my mom's cancer returned. It's... whatever, I'm over it, I guess. A lot of people have been dying lately, I'm just glad she passed before all of this..."

"You got a tattoo? T-That's pretty cool, I guess. I could never do that, aha... but it isn't surprising for you. You've always been adventurous and whatnot, I guess."