Zachary Johnson (humorintragedy) wrote in immune_ic, @ 2013-03-19 20:07:00 |
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Guilt. The emotion Zach had tried to chase away with booze for nearly a year, it was the same one that had driven him out into Ossining, out into danger. He should have been able to do this a year ago, should have ended it for Gordy before he spent a year as one of them - but worse, because knowing he was a Waker meant that his brother was aware on some level. That thought made his stomach turn and he made a fist with his free hand, fighting back the urge to yell – to expel all the emotions he felt out of his body in some aggressive manner. The streets were devoid of people, but not zombies. Zach had taken out at least four shufflers since he had started this search. Part of him regretted leaving without DJ, or sneaking out without any of his family knowing, actually. But he needed to do this, had to fix what he felt like was his mistake. No matter how many times someone told him it wasn’t his fault, in his own mind it always would be. Gordy shouldn’t have ever been bitten, let alone allowed to wander around as one of those things. I’m fixing this. That’s what matters. He thought as he rounded the corner and came face to face with a handful of infected. His eyes scanned over their faces, searching for Gordy. Like some many other times before this one, he came up empty handed. None of the infected standing before him was his brother. Was he ever going to find Gordy? That thought seemed to be playing on repeat, almost to the point of distraction. He knew better than to get caught up in his own thoughts, though. Years of training had taught him how to stay alert, because all it could take is a moment and you could be caught off guard, just a moment. Stepping up to the first shuffle, he dispatched it quickly with his machete and just as he was about to take out the next one something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. Gordy. Zach froze as realization sunk in. The shock of actually seeing him was far more intense than the knowledge that he was out here. Shit. Shaking himself out of his stunned stupor, he knew what he had to do. What he didn’t expect was how quickly Gordy could move, and in seconds his brother was on him. It would have almost been like old times, back when they would wrestle like idiots in the living room. Except Gordy had been human back then, so it was almost, but not exactly like it. Plus, there was the whole fact that Zach was literally fighting for survival at this point. You have to do this. It was like a mantra playing over and over in his head as he twisted out of Gordy’s grasp, putting distance between them as he worked up the nerve to do what had to be done. He didn’t even get a moment’s reprieve, because his brother was lurching towards him again. Now! His brain screamed at him, but Zach hesitated for just a moment, and that moment was the only thing Gordy needed. Before Zach realized what was happening he felt a searing pain in his forearm and realized that the Waker – his brother – had bit him. Shit, shit, shit. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. There was no hesitation this time as Zach reached behind his back to pull the handgun out of his waistband, shooting Gordy between the eyes before he had a chance to truly think about what he was doing. His gaze flicked down to his arm, to the wound that confirmed he was fucked. Just as quickly though his eyes flicked up to scan the shufflers around him, none of who were particularly close at the moment. So instead of running, Zach found himself knelling down next to the now prone figure of his brother. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he muttered, reaching out one hand to close the unblinking eyes of his now dead brother. “We miss you, Gordy.” He would have to apologize to Maddie later for what he had done, but he hoped his baby sister would understand that he just couldn’t leave Gordy like that, couldn’t hold out for a cure that might never come. Time was quickly slipping away from him, and in a moment that was either stupidity or something else Zach shoved the handgun back into his waistband and the machete back into it’s sheath, freeing his hands up to hoist Gordy up off the ground – he wasn’t going to leave him here. His brother deserved a proper fucking burial and not to be left to rot in some street of an abandoned town. The trip back to Sing Sing was a blur, and when he reached the gates he practically growled at the security guy on duty to let him in and to make damn sure Gordy was buried like a human, and that if he wasn’t Zach would hunt him down and make sure that was the last mistake the guy ever made. The guy had looked at him like he was nuts, but Zach didn’t give a damn and the idiot knew well enough not to mess with him. And now onto quarantine. Fuck. How was he going to explain this to Charlie, Maddie and DJ? Stumbling into the infirmary Zach caught the attention of the first nurse he saw and told her to bring a first aid kit to the quarantine area. She had tried to argue, tried to insist he get one of the medics to dress his wound, but he was quick to snap that he’d clean his own wound. That first order had been followed up with another growled order. “Talia’s in charge.” Which really that wasn’t his call to make, but if he couldn’t be working he wanted someone he trusted wholly to be watching over his infirmary. Sinking down onto the bed in quarantine, Zach dropped his head into his hands and sighed. “What the hell did you do?” He muttered to himself, the panic starting to seep in now that he was free of outside dangers. “Fucking moron.” And with that he began to clean the wound and prepare for the next two weeks of waiting and hoping that he was immune. |