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Tweak says, "I'll fly like the wind."

David Zimmerman (soeccentric) wrote in immune_ic,
@ 2011-11-30 12:27:00

Entry tags:

# 2011 [11] november

WHO: David vs and Brennan
WHAT: While out walking, David encounters two things that scare him, a swimmer and Brennan. He's honestly not sure which one he's more afraid of.
WHERE: A pier on Liberty Island, not too far from the safehouse.
WHEN: Backdated to yesterday, afternoon.
RATING: TBA, medium?
STATUS: In progress.

It was nice to get outside.

David was fully, completely and totally aware that he was living in one of the few places that he could legitimately say that, and he didn't take it for granted. He tried to get outside every day, at least once a day, even if it was just for a little bit to get a breath of fresh air (or… as fresh as was possible with the current state of things). Liberty Island barely ever saw infected. The closest they got was the occasional swimmer that got too close to shore, and even then, they just looked like beached people.

For once, David's mind wasn't on ghosts. Of course, he had his EMF detector in his hand, because well… it'd be his luck that the one time he actually encountered something would be the one time he didn't have his detector with him, but he didn't have to worry about that. He just… wasn't looking at it. Not as actively as he usually did.

It wasn't long before David found himself at the pier.

David couldn't help but think that this place had to be beautiful in its time. Looking out over the rippling water and slightly crashing waves, it was almost easy to forget the danger that bubbled underneath and on the opposite shore. And the sun was just beginning to set, bathing the whole area in a beautiful, orange-pink glow. Times like this, it was a little bit easier to believe that maybe, given enough time, things could be okay again. Good things still existed. It was just a matter of remembering that and letting it win the battle against all of the bad things out there.

He didn't realize until just then that he'd subconsciously walked halfway down the pier, and he was standing, glancing over the edge at the water. He'd read somewhere once that these beaches used to be prime clam digging territory. It was a shame that most of those clams were probably dead.

His depressing thought, however, didn't last long. While he stood there, pondering and half-reminiscing, a close lapping of water caught his attention. He snapped to full attention when he noticed that the lapping was coming from below… below the pier.

David's thoughts instantly went to old movies, when a person broke the surface of the water and was soaking wet, but none the worse for wear, but that thought was completely admonished by the sole fact that the thing coming from the water was not human. Or… at least not a living human, anyway. "Shit!" David shouted and jumped back at the sight of the mangled, surfacing swimmer. He nearly tripped over his own feet and fell over the opposite edge of the pier into the water as he tried to back up to get away from it, but he didn't, so he straightened up, tried to collect himself and moved right on.

Recovering quickly, he turned and walked toward the end of the pier. He didn’t run… but he definitely walked a little faster than he usually did.

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scratchthesky
2011-12-01 03:56 am UTC (link)

Brennan had decided to step outside earlier than he intended because it was starting to get crowded indoors. He wasn't crazy about personal space, but the air in the safe house started to feel a little stagnant, so he opted to take a walk outdoors for a bit, maybe take some time to think about things other than rationing food and water, the infected and the ever-looming question of how long could everyone really keep this up?

He wasn't really one predisposed to morose thoughts, but it's hard to say that he was the same exact person he used to be when he lived in a grossly over-priced apartment in Manhattan, spending stupid amounts of time sitting alone in that very apartment at his drafting table and thinking of things that he wasn't even sure physics could accommodate. It was the child in him somewhere that delighted in the idea of making things that where almost impossible, but Brennan was sure that child was long gone now.

The air was getting close to the temperature where it started to nip, but the cold air in his lungs reminded him that he was still alive; that, in spite of this Hell that ruined everything he'd ever known, he was still living and breathing, and right now, that was enough. It's a strange feeling when all the things that used to cause him so much stress -taxes, deadlines, board meetings- were almost figments of his imagination now, now that he has to worry about where they're going to get food when their current supply starts to run low, or what his course of action would be if a wave of infected managed to reach their island.

And the constant reminder that his brother Mihael was out there somewhere, and he could only pray that the kid was alive somewhere, kept warm in a safehouse, protected and healthy. He's had enough nightmares about his brother becoming infected that he's almost able to plan his sleep schedule around them.

Brennan was caught off guard when he heard someone shout, the sound coming from the pier and he pulled a knife out of his belt and bolted in the direction of the sound, hoping he wasn't too late. When he got close enough to the pier, he saw who he could positively identify as David Zimmerman nearly fall into the water before stumbling off the dock gracelessly.

"What the Hell are you doing?" His voice was a little harder than he intended. "Were you trying to get yourself killed?"

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soeccentric
2011-12-01 03:38 pm UTC (link)

David was already skittish, not that it took too terribly much to get him skittish. So, naturally, an underwater zombie almost sending him toppling over the edge of the pier and into the water? That would do it.

His heart raced in his chest, faster than he recalled it racing in a long, long time as he speed-walked off the pier, tripping over his own two feet a couple of times on the way. He'd never claimed grace to be one of his strongest attributes, certainly not, but he'd always though he possessed a little more of it than that. Clearly, he'd thought wrong. His hand closed a little tighter around the EMF detector he held and he closed his eyes for a second, in what was an entirely feeble attempt to compose himself.

Probably because as soon as he opened his eyes again, he encountered the only person in the entire world who could scare him more than a surfacing infected, ready to rip him to shreds. Brennan Patterson was the one person on the planet who reminded David exactly how useless he was almost every time they talked.

It was bad enough that David was completely and totally aware of that fact on his own, how lucky he was to be alive, and how without immune like him, or like Rae and Sarah, or useful people like his brother, he'd have been dead long ago. He knew it, he truly did. But what could he do? Pushing one hand through his hair, he stuffed his EMF reader into his pocket, hopefully before Patterson saw it, and tried to feign that calm, cool state his brother always perpetuated so well.

It wasn't working.

By the time he got close enough not to have to shout for Patterson to hear him, nothing had changed. His heart was still pounding and his voice was caught in his throat, like he'd just swallowed a shit-ton of air and it was pushing the words back. But he spoke anyway, sounding more like a whispering mouse than a speaking human being.

"I was—I was going for a walk," he muttered. "I was just curious about the water and…" he trailed off, knowing pretty much anything he said after that, Patterson had probably seen.

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scratchthesky
2011-12-02 12:05 am UTC (link)

David looked like he had seen a ghost, and Brennan angrily retracted that metaphor in his head. David and his obsession with ghosts has given him more than enough stress, and he was getting sick of it. Honestly, he wasn't sure if it went all the way down to jealousy on his part that David could somehow manage to do things that he loved even after the end of the world, not that Brennan would ever acknowledge that feeling. He didn't believe in half of the shit that David rambled on about, ghosts and all his theories and that stupid thing he always carried around, the name of which he had forgotten. It was some sort of "ghost tracker" or some bullshit, and he knew the guy always carried the damn thing around, and was pretty sure he saw him trying to hide it as he walked up. And if Brennan wasn't concerned with whatever had been in the water, he might have let himself go on another tirade about the device and/or toss the thing into the water where the fucking swimmers could have it for all he cared.

He ignored David at first, looking over his shoulder at the pier, checking if there was anything coming up out of the water or something moving that couldn't be attributed to the waves crashing up in the supports, his grip on his knife tight enough that his hand was almost trembling. He ended up not seeing anything, David's screaming probably scaring it off, but he kept checking every once and a while. Tucking the knife away for the time being, he decided to address David, a choice he might come to regret within the next few minutes.

"What did you think you were going to find in the water?" He checked the surf again. God he hated how these infected made him so paranoid. He was afraid that more swimmers might be heading this way. They used to be intermittent and few in number, but it was only a matter of time before a larger group headed for the island. "How many did you see?" He asked, hoping that David had actually gotten frightened by a swimmer and not a tuna or something. He was being shockingly lenient with the other man today. It just might be a cold day in Hell.

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soeccentric
2011-12-02 04:42 am UTC (link)

It said a lot of things about David that he'd just faced down a freaking swimmer, one of the things that had pulled his brother's best friend into the water and nearly drowned her, and that terrified him less than Patterson did. A lot of things. And none of them were good. But it was true enough. David's heart jackhammered in his chest as he turned to look over his shoulder, catching sight of the swimmer that was just now getting to its feet. Who knew how adept those things were on land. It was the first time David had even encountered one face-to-mangled-face, and all he could do was turn around and look back at Patterson stupidly. Which, of course, he was fully aware was just adding fuel to the fire that was his hatred. Swallowing thickly, David waited for the onslaught of curses.

But they didn't come.

An eyebrow arched, David answered the first question very carefully. "I wasn't looking for anything. Not really," he explained. "I was just thinking," he muttered, not wanting to mention the fact that he'd essentially been daydreaming about the old days. Patterson saw him as weak. Admitting what he'd been thinking about would be fueling the fire, and he wasn't sure if he was willing to give him that much ammo. Not right now. "Look, I'm sorry, I just…" he trailed off.

Patterson was addressing him again, rather than berating him more, and David was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He turned and looked over his shoulder again, somehow finding his voice and shook his head as if Patterson had asked if he'd seen more than one. "Just the one. That's all," he muttered, swallowing thickly and then clearing his throat. Though where there was one, there was always more. It was just the way they worked.

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scratchthesky
2011-12-02 05:14 am UTC (link)

He half listened to the little backstory David offered up, eyes still watching for any indication of the swimmer resurfacing. He couldn't help but think that it was strange that it could have tried to attack David when he was standing out on the pier; it probably had the opportunity, not that Brennan was hoping that it would attack the other man. It just didn't fit the bill, and Brennan just sort of hoped that the creature might have been on it's last leg, damaged before making it's way over here. He didn't want to imagine the possibility of it having enough brain power to lure more this way because, while he was a pretty good fighter, he wouldn't know what to do with David, since he really couldn't predict how he would react. Briefly, Brennan ran through a list of scenarios, trying to plan for anything. He was stalled a bit when the "what if he passes out" idea came up? He was strong, but he wasn't strong enough nor fast enough to carry David back somewhere safe, nor could he let the infected get close to the safehouse.

Needless to say, David not passing out in the event of an attack was at the top of his list of prayers.

"Hopefully there really is only the one." He answered, looking David in the eye briefly before, yet again, checking the pier. "How did it look? Did it look fully functional?" He then asked, sort of hoping David would say it was missing it's legs or something.

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soeccentric
2011-12-03 12:43 am UTC (link)

Honestly, David may not have been the strongest or the fastest person in the world. He may not have been a good shot and it was plainly evident that he wasn't even close to the most useful person to have with you at the end of the world. But if there was one thing that could be said about him, it was the fact that he wasn't an easy scare. Well, okay, that wasn't entirely true. He was easily scared, yes. But it took a lot, a whole lot to get him pass-out scared. After all, before he'd gotten to Liberty Island, he'd survived on his own. To start with, he'd stayed with the group he'd been at the seminar with, but as they all died one by one, from either the virus or something else… somehow, miraculously (an opinion which he was sure Patterson would agree with), David had managed to survive.

He wouldn't pass out in the face of a couple swimmers.

"I didn't really get a good look," he stuttered out, still shaken both from the near-attack and from being face-to-face with someone who was probably making fun of him endlessly in his head. "It broke the surface and I turned and left… I was going to go tell a guard but…"

Patterson's eyes kept dashing between David and the creature, and David couldn't help but feel like there was something coming up behind him. He turned around and looked at the pier again, noticing that one of the creatures was surfacing again. David's hand went to the crowbar strapped to his back, just in case. "It didn't jump out at me, though, so it couldn't have been too strong, right?"

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scratchthesky
2011-12-03 06:55 am UTC (link)

Brennan wanted to respond with 'of course you didn't,' but didn't. It really wasn't necessary. He was a little high on the annoyed scale at the moment, but it wasn't enough for him to lash out at David, as easy as that could be. He had other things to think about, namely the swimmer David had seen, to be spending his time berating the guy. He'd been a little more on edge lately for plenty of reasons, and that lent him to be more verbal with his displeasure in some of the other survivors on the island. It really was almost like venting or projection or whatever the psychology term was (it had been years since he'd taken that class in school, and he'd be damned if he could actually remember any of that with as much clarity that he had for being able to distinguish types of infected, the best way to kill them and how the plan a strategy in a split second).

Instead of his initial response, Brennan settled with "alright," as he took another look at David. "That's understandable," he continued, strangely understanding considering how annoyed he was. Fear was fear, and no one left could claim they were fearless; Brennan certainly wouldn't. Fear was an evolutionary miracle, and as much as he hated the vulnerability that came with it sometimes, he couldn't help but appreciate the way it could motivate him too.

"They really only have a stronger upper body. It might not even be physically capable of jumping out of the water. Usually they just pull people in."

He wasn't going to wait for the creature to pick a spot on the pier to hide out for some unsuspecting person to head out that way. Brennan judged how deep the water was around the infected and decided to just head along the pier after it. The water was pretty calm despite the creature's spastic movements which Brennan quickly took care of, dispatching the infected before it even had a clue what was about to happen to it. Sometimes it almost seemed too easy when there was only a sole infected, but his job was done and he had other places to check.

"Be more careful when you're heading out on the pier," Brennan admonished, sounding like some sort of preaching teacher or something. That annoyed tone only served to make him even more annoyed and taking care of that infected (because thinking that he was 'killing' them forced him to remember that it had been someone's spouse or parent or child and he didn't really want the guilt of acknowledging that) hadn't really helped all that much. "The currents aren't as strong today and it might be more likely for them to reach the docks."

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soeccentric
2011-12-04 06:55 pm UTC (link)

Understandable? The first rule of dealing with any kind of infected menace, especially if you didn't know you were immune and were someone like David—someone not entirely as apt as others in self-defense—was to turn tail and run when things got hairy. Call him crazy, but being face to face with a swimmer when you didn't expect to see one was hairier than Cousin It. He didn't respond, though, didn't speak up because he really didn't feel like fighting with Patterson that day. Or any day, really, but that day especially.

Patterson continued to explain, and David's decision to run away made double the sense now. "Yeah, I'd rather not be pulled in. I'm glad I ran," he muttered, figuring it went without saying, but he couldn't help himself, speaking up. His nervous habit of talking too much sometimes reared its head at the worst of times.

David hated that sanctimonious, preachy tone that Patterson took on when he talked to him. His eyes narrowed and his mouth turned down into a frown. He considered telling him that he wasn't a child, but he truly didn't feel like fighting that day, so he just sighed silently and nodded his head once in acquiescence to the request. "I know," he mumbled. "It's usually relatively safe here… it just surprised me."

Why was it that every time he conversed with Patterson, he always came out of the conversation feeling like some kind of being a lower life form. He shook it off and looked at Patterson when he finished speaking, chewing on his lip. "Do you know how long they survive on land?" his voice was soft, and dripped with a bit more fear than he ever wanted to show Patterson. It was hard enough dealing with what he already dealt with from the man… flat-out giving him something to work with was not high on his list.

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scratchthesky
2011-12-04 07:58 pm UTC (link)

"Yes, and you seem to be good at running." Brennan responded before really being able to check himself. Sometimes he was just in a bad mood and, honestly, today was one of those days, and that also meant it was one of the days where he knew if he saw David, he wouldn't be able to help just laying into the guy about everything in spite of the fact that, when not completely sour, he tried to admit that David sometimes might have tried to do his best. Unfortunately for David, every time Brennan considered giving him some sort of credit, he would catch him outside hunting ghosts or engaged in some other worthless occupation, and any good thoughts went right back out the window.

Brennan was never the kind of person to get enjoyment from annoying or hurting others; it was just something he did, and usually he just said the things he did to prove a point or try to be helpful, so seeing David react, only by expression, like always, to the things he was saying didn't really rile up any feelings of pride or success, though he was slightly annoyed that David never really said anything in defense of himself, and that just sort of drove him crazy. Maybe the reason he was so villainised on this island by a small clique was because his guy couldn't hold his own against someone else and they just thought Brennan picked on him because he was an easy target. To be fair, he was just about as equally hard on everyone else, they just seemed to take it better than David did.

"Safety is relative. There might not be any runners, but the swimmers are no less of a threat." He stated, slowly bleeding the preachy tone from his voice, as it was only making this whole conversation more frustrating. David always looked like he was shrinking whenever he was around and his habits, like chewing on his lip, just made Brennan think he was some sort of child. "They don't seem to die outside of the water, they just move slower. They have a large amount of upper body strength, however, so I'd suggest taking them out from as far away as possible." The information was almost clinical, but mostly because he wasn't coloring it with any emotion; he genuinely shared information he gathered with people, because they were all just trying to survive.

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soeccentric
2011-12-07 04:49 pm UTC (link)

Arguably, being good at running was one of the things that had kept David alive for as long as it had. He didn't think of it as a bad thing, and when you had so few strengths, you had to keep the ones you had and use them when the need arose. "That's not a bad thing," he muttered softly, for lack of a better response.

David knew that a lot of people saw it as a bad thing, as a sign of weakness or whatever, but he couldn't shoot, he was weak with melee, and he wasn't very good at strategizing, so why shouldn't he run? Besides, he added inwardly, I thought you were so adamant about the fact that I wasn't good at anything so, why should this matter to you? he asked.

If David was villianizing Patterson, it wasn't out of any desire to make his life hell. All of his life, David had been teased for one reason or another. He was always ghost kid, always the kid who wasn't as good at sports as the other boys or always just a little bit different. So other boys saw him as an easy target. He'd never been able to hold his own. Only because every time he did, people saw how pathetic an attempt it was and used it to tease him more. Sure, some bad feelings faded at the end of the world, but some? Some would never go away. Patterson, he figured, was just another one of those types of people, and most of the time he didn't fault the guy for it. He'd probably have felt guilty if Patterson mentioned feeling villainized, because that type of thing; making someone feel bad about themselves really wasn't who David was.

If David had any talent with his gun, he might have followed Patterson's advice and taken his gun out right then to take care of some of the distant swimming infected, but he didn't, so he wouldn't. A small part of him wanted to ask about more weaknesses, but he knew that talking to him was a bother to Patterson, so he didn't say anything else.

"Makes me wonder how they survive down there," he said in a meek tone. He was curious, but he didn't suspect Patterson, of all people, to answer him. "Do they eat fish? And I wonder if any fish, or sharks or whatever, have the virus…" That… was a terrifying thought and almost immediately took his focus from the fact that the man he was face to face with intimidated him even more than the underwater menace.

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scratchthesky
2011-12-16 12:08 am UTC (link)

"Sometimes even stronger people have to run." Brennan responded quietly. He wasn't in particular habit of being anything but patronizing around David, but, on the other hand, he wasn't particularly inclined to being surly, just distant, and it surprised him that his mood around David had never been prone to its usual fluctuation, much like it is now.

Brennan would never admit it, especially to David, but he has run before, many times, and long before the Outbreak. He was stubborn, yes, and he refused to bend, but it also made him very vulnerable to change and left him with poor adaptive skills. Brennan had long been running from his mother before running from infected, and he had run from both with the same fervor, at least in the beginning.

There were a number of times, early in his training, when he had tried to run. He was an architect, for Christ's sake, not a murderer, and even though it was a matter of survival, a matter of 'us versus them', he couldn't help but imagine how his father felt when he shot his wife point blank. The thought of potentially killing someone he had met, or knowing that he was killing someone's husband or wife, daughter, son really messed him up for a while. He wasn't a violent man, he was prone to passive-aggressive fighting at his best, basic fist-fighting when he was drunk. And before the Outbreak, he had never been particularly devoted to God before, but his fear, and there was no other word for it, however undignified, and his anxiety were almost too much and he prayed so often he sometimes wondered if it was enough to make up for years of forgetting. There were a lot of things Brennan didn't share with the people he has been living with on Liberty Island; most of them only knew his name and his grumpy disposition, and nobody asked for more. He'd never been the kind of person to make friends quickly or easily, nor was he the kind of person that begged for attention, and when he merely became a guard on the island, he slow let his purpose here define him, to the point where even he has begun to question if there was anything more to him.

Brennan regarded David for a second more, before focusing his eyes on where the body of the swimmer had been. He couldn't see it any longer, the current having pulled it under and out to sea by now. Force of habit ran a prayer for their soul and for his through his mind, and before he could check himself, he quickly crossed himself. He hoped he hadn't been caught and latched onto David's speech, hoping to divert any attention away from himself. He didn't need to have the rumor that he was some Bible-thumper to run through the camp. Most mentions of God nowadays were stilted and tainted by radicalism and he didn't need to give the survivors something else to hate him for. God was his way of dealing with the fact that he was a murderer, and God helped him to sleep at night; he didn't need them to take Him away.

"I've seen some fish carcasses wash up on shore, stripped bare." He commented quickly. He almost sounded shaken, and he covered that up as best he could. No need for weakness. "I haven't seen any infected fish or sharks, but the possibility is high. If dogs and cats and the like can get infected, I don't see why fish couldn't." He realized that saying such might fuel a fire of panic in David, but he wasn't going to lie, because regardless of how Brennan might treat him, David wasn't a child. "More reasons to be careful near the water."

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