Prompt Ramblings - 7. Prompt 244 - Zombie Apocalypse

“I have the med supplies! They're right behind us, Chad! Run!”

Chuck clutched the life-saving box to his chest as ran down the hall. The young former college football star was close on his heels. The shambling figures that were once people took slow notice of them and began to shift, shambling slowly in their direction.

The hospital no longer housed the sick and wounded. Where once this was a place of healing, only the walking dead roamed the building now. The putrid foulness of rotting flesh gave away their location long before their ambling movements. The hospital was full of it, the running men steeling themselves to hold back the resultant retching.

Chuck scanned the small window in the swinging door before he burst through. Only a single flesh-eater was in the waiting room. It scented him and turned in his direction as they entered, the sight of its blackened and torn skin drawing a sudden chill in the pair of men. The former human male opened its mouth and elicited a choked growl, the vocal cords decayed and useless.

With a satisfied grunt, Chuck shouldered into the lifeless figure as he kicked its feet out from under it. The large older man still had more than enough strength to counter one of these dead things. This one must have been around an especially long time. The longer they existed, the more advanced the decay, the more fragile they became. Its legs snapped under the assault and it writhed on the floor, clawing futilely with broken fingers to find its way to them. Hunger was the only driving force to its motion.

Chuck looked back to the wide eyed athlete behind him. “You okay?”

Chad could only nod, unable to speak out loud, white showing all around the emerald irises. Handsome and strong, the virile athlete was starting to show the wear over their lives. Their group had been very fortunate up until now, not having to deal with close up encounters. They had been able to keep low on the radar and avoid the flesh-eaters that now walked the earth. No one had been bitten in their group and no one had been lost.

But supplies were running low in their little office building turned fortress. One group was scouting canned goods and other foodstuffs while Chuck and Chad were raiding the nearby hospital for basic medical supplies. They were doing fine until a small group spotted them and the tide turned into a race to escape.

Chuck clasped a hand on the young man’s solid shoulder. As large as Chad was, he was visibly terrified. Young hands twitched and grew white in tension with the death grip he had on the aluminum bat in his fists. The tremors under his skin only matched themselves to the glossy sheen across his forehead. Chuck gave a gentle squeeze to try to focus him.

“Just stay close, Chad. Don't hesitate to use that bat on them. They're not people anymore.”

Rubbing a hand over his coarse chin, Chuck nodded back to Chad before heading for the exit.

They raced outside; more undead littering the streets than before they came in. Something about the way these things existed was odd. One on one, they weren't much to deal with, but when they caught a fresh scent they swarmed like ants on a corpse. A crowd of the flesh-eaters were dangerous and that exactly what they were facing now.

“Run home!” Chuck shouted as they scrambled down the street for their haven. Once they were inside, they could hold off an army of these creatures; they had done so for months since the whole infestation began. Only the sounds of their heartbeats were louder than their mad footfalls on the pavement.

Chuck pulled open the main door of the building and turned. A wall of walking dead was between him and the younger man. Chad shouted in rage as the bat collided with the closest flesh-eater to him, showering him in putrefaction.

“Chad!” Chuck shouted. A group of the flesh-eaters turned in his direction and began to advance. There were too many. He had to get inside and close the door or lose the sanctuary. The survival of everyone was critical. Shelter was all some of them had in the chaos of the world now. Teeth grinding and chest tight, Chuck hissed as he slammed the door shut and flipped the deadbolt.

The older man slammed his fist against the unyielding door repeatedly, ignoring the sharp pain that rode up his wrist. For a moment, he pressed his forehead to the metal surface, panic trying to swamp him before he bolted up the stairwell to the second floor.

“Hold on, Chad. Hold on, Chad,” he chanted as he barreled though the second floor door. Without losing a step he snatched an office chair and heaved it through the outer window. The window blew open, raining glass on the sidewalk below. Immediately, he leaned out the window and looked down.

Chad was surrounded, swinging the bat like a madman. He was keeping the flesh-eaters at bay, but they were flowing in his direction with a magnetic pull from all around. Instinctively, he'd managed to fight his way to the building's wall for protection, but that was fleeting. He’d be overwhelmed in less than a minute. There wasn't much time.

Chuck unfurled the coil of rope he'd been wearing over his shoulder for this excursion and spun it out the window. He twisted it around both wrists and held on tight.

“CHAD!!! ROPE!!!” he screamed.

Chad spun at the cry and seeing the lifeline, leapt for it. He dropped the bat to use both hands and Chuck grunted at the weight. Chad was no small man. He heaved with every ounce of strength he had as Chad climbed the wall even as he kicked rotting hands away that reached for his feet. With a lurch and final burst of power, Chuck pulled his charge through the window, the two men crashing to the floor in a heap.

The previous tremors in Chad's body were now a series of uncontrollable shaking as Chuck wrapped his arms around him, both men's chest heaving in ragged breaths.

“Are you okay?” Chuck asked. He ran his hands around the strong young man’s chest and shoulders looking for damage. “Were you bitten?”

Chad could only shake his head no. He was far too shaken. None of them had been this close to the flesh-eaters before and certainly not been swarmed by them. Chuck was so relieved his hand snaked along the back of Chad neck and pulled him close. Chad held him tight in return, his muscled arms straining as he held onto the older man for dear life. So grateful the boy was safe, Chuck couldn’t help himself as he pressed his lips to Chad’s.

“What the fuck!” Chad shouted as he pulled away.

With a harsh shove, he put an arms length of distance between the two of them. Chuck sat there unmoving, shame freezing his limbs. Chad's fear from his brush with death had rolled over into something completely different as his face snarled and his eyes narrowed.

“I'm not your fucking pillow-biter!” Chad raged. Small licks of spittle escaped him as he fumed. “I knew there was something wrong with you. No one would believe me, but I could see that creepy way you've been watching me.”

Chad stood suddenly. He was just about the same size as Chuck but was suddenly far more menacing in his anger. Chuck simply sat on the floor frozen; partly from fear and partly in shock that he'd actually kissed Chad after all this time.

“This time they'll believe me. Things are gonna change around here, fucker.” Chad stormed past but not before he planted a hard foot in Chuck's chest, flattening him hard to the floor. A single tear rolled from the older man as he placed his hand to the sore point of his breast as the door slammed open and Chad exited the room.

* * * *

It was almost dark when Jess's group returned with foodstuffs. Their run was successful and they’d managed a stealthy run with the flesh-eaters none the wiser. The others were storing the supplies as she went in search of Chuck and Chad, needing to know how their excursion went.

In one of the darkened offices that served as a bedroom, she found Chuck sitting on his makeshift bed, his door wide open. A single small kerosene lamp was on that highlighted the amber color of the strong whiskey in the glass he pulled to his lips. The shadows in his face were deeper somehow and he sat there not really acknowledging her presence.

“Chuck? How did it go?”

Chuck pointed to the box of medical supplies that lay on the floor, his hand shaking. His skin had an unhealthy sheen and his eyes were burdened in this little world of disquiet he was living inside of.

“Chuck, are you okay?” Jess asked. He refused to answer and simply took another hard sip of his drink.

Jess looked around trying to understand. Chuck was usually the talkative one that had all the ideas and helped them survive. Everyone gravitated to him because of it, except Chad.

“Chuck? Where's Chad?”

Chuck slowly craned moved his head in Jess's direction. The glass tipped upwards, the last of its contents disappearing into his quivering mouth. His face twisted as thin rivulets of tears washed away streaks of dirt staining his cheeks.

“Chad's gone,” Chuck gasped. “The flesh-eaters got him.”