In Blackest Night

[Rudolph Quin]

Things were a lot better now. Some people might think that was a callous thing to say but fuck them. The world had been going to shit before the dead started rising. In his opinion, it'd just been an inevitable and merciful wiping of the slate. The world seemed so much more open now. The air cleaner and the sky clearer than it'd been in years. And the earth beneath his feet felt like it was finally getting the chance to breathe, after more than a decade of being slowly choked to death. The dead now seemed like Nature's hand manipulating them like puppets to get Her vengeance and even the odds. He wasn't going to join their ranks any time soon but he wasn't eager to recreate society and start on that destructive path again either.

Which was why he traveled alone, avoiding groups of people when he could. And to be honest, he was better on his own, particularly when dealing with the undead. In the world before, he'd been in the military at one point, so he was trained to use the automatic rifle slung over his back, but his best weapon was the machete on his hip, the blade half as thick as his palm and longer than his forearm. Walking with a relaxed saunter, he followed the streets through the city he'd been exploring for the past couple of days, his slender, muscular form articulating an aura of ownership over this newly discovered territory. He'd set up camp in a post office and now he was looking for any supplies he could scrounge up, simply confident that any dead or living he found here could be easily dealt with.

Turning down a side street on a whim, he stopped in the shadow of a red brick building when he heard the telltale grumbling and moans of the undead. Several meters ahead of him in an empty lot, a small crowd of them crouched over the body of their prey, feasting noisily on what looked like it might have been a man at some point. With a small disgusted twist to his lips, he turned back the way he came, entering afternoon light once more and continuing his trek down the main road. A soft breeze tossed scraps of litter and debris about his boots, the wind scooping the remnants and trash of humanity amidst abandoned and gutted vehicles sitting like corpses dropped haphazardly upon this asphalt river.

He was heading to where he knew the highschool was - the relief effort had been centralized in many of the cities' school gymnasiums and he knew he might find some medical supplies and possibly some drugs there. On the way he became distracted by a church, it's stone face all old world style with grand, solemn arches, prickly steeples and demur stained glass windows, now broken in places. Opening one of the doors, he poked his shaved head inside, raising a dark brow as his hazel eyes adjusted to the gloom, looking for any sign of movement. Sometimes the churches were centers of sanctuary during the crises too, he knew.

 

[LustLove]

It was a plain afternoon, as plain as it could with the way the Earth had turned upside down. Civilization and life as most people knew it was far gone and there was no chance of it possibly coming back. The arrival of the undead soon overpowered the majority of the normal faster than a blink of an eye. The population slowly dwindled down to a small minimum without any interruption. And the more the dead expanded, the greater disappearance occurred throughout smalls town, cities, and eventually the entire state. They were everywhere and all at once. There was no stopping the spread until there was barely anything left. Though the world was more calm and quiet, it didn't compare to the bustling reality that once existed.

That was the opinion of Kristen. She believed there was barely any hope left though she tried to keep a smiling expression in front of the few normal people she had encountered since this hell began. She hadn't always been a pessimist but in the last few years her eyes were open wider to the destruction and terrorism surrounding the very world that she lived in. She grew up in a small town, sheltered most of her life from anything her parents viewed inappropriate. And it wasn't until she had began to live life on her own did she realize just how horrible this planet she called home was. Before the apocalypse, there were starving children in every country, the homeless, the different, and the less fortunate was ignored and even treated cruelly. A world she rather not live in.

But then she found out she was pregnant and all in the midst of this undead madness. Every now and then, she thought of the way the world has turned out and would have much rather been dead then suffering. Then she thought of the small child she was caring and realized it will never matter what she wanted for herself, she had another person to take care of and she did everything she could to ensure the health of her baby. She had no clue how far along she was, only that she couldn't see her feet anymore and she felt sickly nearly all the time. It was why she had decided to hide out further along in her pregnancy rather than walking around like live bait.

An abandoned church showed to be the perfect area to hide out. There weren't too many entrances, plenty of space so she wouldn't feel suffocated, and a cellar if she would ever need it. She didn't know how long she had stayed in here but it was rare she left and she guarded the location with everything she had. Things were barricaded except for the front door but she kept that locked at all times. Using an old shotgun she found along one of her journeys and with much practice, she kept a tight lock on her sanctuary. To her surprise, a head poked into the front door. Instantly she hoisted the gun onto her shoulder and pointed the gun at the intruder, ready to aim.

 

[Rudolph Quin]

Locke didn't see her at first, the light cascading through the opening he made slowly widening as he nudged the heavy half door open. The place was in pretty good condition, from what he could see, and that was saying a lot since most of these places got trashed during the chaos that erupted when the world ended. With only half of his body in the doorway, he glanced behind him when he heard a slow shuffling. Out below the church steps on the sidewalk was a Walker in some kind of faded, blue uniform, wandering in it's mindless way. Ignoring it, Locke entered the building fully, closing the door behind him before turning around and starting up the aisle between the pews.

That was when he finally spotted her, his eyes focusing on the weapon first - the dark peach fuzz covering his scalp prickling in heightened awareness - then finally noticing the feminine features of the one holding it. Instantly, his hands went up about level with his shoulders, palms out in a placating gesture, and very aware of the creature still roaming very close outside, he said in a hushed tone, "Whoa, whoa. I'm human." So, this must have been her hideout for God only knew how long. This might have also been a place of relief during the infection as well, so, there was a possibility that he could scrounge up some supplies. And if he played his cards right, he might even get lucky with her as well.

 

[LustLove]

Kristen kept her eyes locked on the man glancing around inside her haven. Clearly refusing to acknowledge she was standing there he stepped further in then closed the large doors behind him. She stood motionless, at first praying he would just leave or not even take notice to her. But then she realized he was endangering her and her unborn child by roaming around somewhere he didn't belong. Watching every step he took, the grip of the rifle tightened in between her slim fingers and she took a few small steps backward. If he didn't stop anytime soon, which was probable, she would have to shoot him and the right amount of area to shoot the rifle properly was necessary. Preparedness and her reflexes was all she had to protect herself at that moment.

She neither satisfied nor disappointed to see him hold his hands up. Of course he was human though his reassurance was appreciated. After watching him come through the door, she no longer had suspicions of him being one of them but he still had to leave. She propped the heavy weapon onto the her tiny shoulder, holding on with her frail arms. Closing one of her round, green eyes to examine her range, the rifle was soon aimed right at his temple. Once assuring that his head was a definite target when she would pull the trigger, she looked directly up at him. "I don't care what you are. Get out." She stated simply. That and her pointing a gun at him should be enough motivation for him to leave out of the church at that instant.

 

[Rudolph Quin]

She was pregnant. While she took the time to align her aim, Locke let his eyes wander, his eyes now adjusted to the indoor lighting enough to notice the very pronounced bump swelling from her middle. Instantly, any libido he felt upon noticing she possessed a vagina was quelled by the fact that she was about to become a mother, probably any day now. He was almost about ready to obey her and slip back out the door when he remembered the Walker outside.

Lokce had traveled with people before, nearer to the beginning of everything when the swarms of people started their pointless exodus out of all the major cities. It'd been hard, trying to survive in a group of his neighbors and a few of those unfortunates they collected on the road. People were stupid when they felt safe and even stupider when they were panicked and scared. Several of them died because of that stupidity and the infighting got so bad, the group dwindled even more as the leaders of the group tried to keep everyone alive. Things just became so much easier when he was by himself, particularly when he learned about his special relationship towards those who died yet still walked the earth. Locke fucking remembered standing in the middle of their camp as it was invaded by the moaning horde one night, the chaos raging around him, gun fire and screams howling as people ran and were overwhelmed. And he remembered how he'd failed to gather any undead attention. How when running amongst them, he never became prey, somehow saved from threat by the twisted hand of Fate.

It was what made him want to listen to her. It was what tempted him to leave her here by herself, to continue on his way alone so he wouldn't be around to watch her die while remaining unharmed himself. But he looked again at her stomach. "Lookit you, about ready to pop. How close are you?" he asked nodding towards her belly, his deep voice echoing softly amongst the church arches. Slowly, with his arms still raised defensively, he began to approach her, keeping his eyes locked with hers and his voice calm and level as he spoke. "If you're anywhere near your due date, you shouldn't be alone. Not when the city is crawling with Walkers. You'll need someone to help you get supplies when you run low. You'll need someone around, in case you ever get any unwanted attention because there aren't a lot of nice guys around nowadays - and yeah, I'm a fucking nice guy. And you'll need someone to... help when you have to finally deliver this thing."

He was closer to her now and lightning fast, his hand whipped out to grab ahold of the rifle barrel, effortlessly knocking it from her fingers and turning it around in his own hands. He didn't point it at her, instead looking down at it and checking the bullets inside. Snapping it shut again, he looked at her for a moment and then held it out to her, offering for her to take it back. "Just think of how much harder things will be when it's finally born. You'll have to keep it pretty quiet if you want to continue hiding here. If you can't, then you'll want someone who can shoot a gun watching your back." It wasn't his cup of tea but remembering the mistakes he'd made and thinking of how she wouldn't last a week with a crying baby on her own, he was willing to sacrifice his solitude to save two lives. If he could.

 

[LustLove]

Kristen stared at the guy talking, watching his lips move but not paying any attention to the words that he said. She didn't bother to focus on his offers or try to make sense of what he was telling her. The last thing she needed was for someone to feel pity for her or treat her as though she was utterly helpless due to the fact that she was pregnant. Sure she was a bit slower since the months passed by steadily and it was difficult for her to carry herself around. She had done just fine though and she would do just as fine without the help of any neanderthal who thought he was of use to her.

Ever since she started to show, people had been taking a liking to her. Groups she had encountered along the way took her in without any question. She never even had to ask or contribute much for her to earn her right to stay. She had always known something was just a little off about the whole arrangement but it took her long before she had learned they were just using her. For what, she wasn't sure. Maybe they figured her newborn child would be some type of savior for this catastrophe but she never stayed around long enough to find out. She wouldn't let him treat her baby like so many others had.

This guy most likely played the role of a nice guy but in reality he was selfish and uncaring as the rest of the people that she has ever encountered. He wanted her supplies and a stable place to stay while the dead walked around outside but she would never give him that satisfaction.

She snatched the gun from him and backed away since he had stepped closer to her from earlier. Aiming it once again, she narrowed her eyes and sighed heavily. "I told you to leave. No matter how much you think I'm going to need your help, I've been doing fine on my own so far. And the last thing I want is for you to come and screw everything up for me." She poked him in the chest with the weapon. "Now leave before I'm forced to do something that I don't really want to." She warned.

 

[Rudolph Quin]

Was she fucking serious? Locke looked down at himself, his slender, muscular body barely hidden by the black jean jacket he left unbuttoned in the front to expose his slimming dark blue T-shirt, his long legs covered in army-issue dark green pants and black hiking boots. Not only was he the epitome of "apocalyptic world efficiency" in what someone would need for protection and survival but he wasn't bad to look at either. If his slim waistline and broad shoulders didn't get her heart pumping, then surely his angular jawline, straight-edged nose, dark eyebrows and dreamy eyes should have done the trick. Maybe that was thinking a bit much of himself but she was still a woman, pregnant or not.

Tauntingly, with a smirk on his thin lips, he stepped forward a foot, putting her gun right against his chest and he stared into her eyes coolly. "Do it," his voice was low and raspy as he challenged her. "What have ya got to lose? I mean, God forbid I screw up what you're calling a life but what will most likely turn out to be a death sentence." When she hesitated he broke out in a grin, flashing his crooked, yet clean teeth at her. Stepping back a little bit, he rubbed his hands over his shaved head and rested them there with a sigh. Glancing at the doors, he was once again tempted to just forget about her and leave but he was reluctant to give in that easy. She might not have wanted to admit it, but she needed him. She would need him. There was no way she could aim that rifle with a baby cradled in one arm screaming it's head off and drawing every Walker in a 5 mile radius straight to her. If she thought she could, then she was more arrogant than he was.

He didn't want her to die but he didn't want to get shot either. Letting his hands fall loosely by his sides with a sigh, he looked back at her, once more giving her an up and down before shaking his head in acquiescence. "Alright, Annie Oakley," he said with an amused shrug. "Have it your way. I'm gonna head over to the highschool right now and see what I can scrounge up from the FEMA trailers but I'm staying at the post office near the old Price Chopper. If ya ever need anything--oh! Sorry!" He suddenly gave her a mocking grin and held his hands up as he backed lazily towards the doors. "My bad. I forgot. You got this totally under control. But if you ever do need help, for some really bizarre reason that I can't imagine being possible because you're Rambo in a skirt and shit, that's where I'll be." He was halfway out the door and gave her a small wink as he said, "My name is Locke and you're always welcome to come knockin' on my door, sweetheart."

Closing the door behind himself, he turned into bright daylight coming face to face with a group of 5 or 6 Walkers scattered on the sidewalk and stairs in front of the church. He paused for a moment, as all of them froze, turning their heads towards the movement of the door shutting and the sound of the heavy wood sliding home. When he walked away from the door, several of them came lurching towards the church. Locke started to walk away, tried to tell himself that it wasn't that big of a deal. It was just a door closing and not enough to get them riled up; they'd eventually leave her alone if she just stayed in there, he thought. But as several Walkers passed him, gurgling and growling in their wounded throats and started to feebly bat at the doors, he sighed and rolled his eyes. None of them even payed attention to him and he could start screaming as he walked away and still not be bothered. She said she wanted to deal with this on her own but he found that every time he turned around to start walking away, he couldn't force himself down those stairs.

With a soft growl in his throat he made his decision, and in one smooth motion, he turned around and pulled his machete from the sheath on his hip, bearing down on the undead crowding around the church doors. A few solid chops got the ones in the back but he took his time and chuckled to himself as he let the blade slide into the skulls of the ones right up against the doors, blackish blood splattering the molded wood paneling. As he wrenched his knife free from the head it was wedged in, he stepped back and made sure the area was clear before shouting at the door, "DON'T THINK OF THAT AS HELPING YOU OUT! I WAS JUST MAKING SURE MY MACHETE STILL WORKS!" Wiping the blade on the pants of one of the corpses, he finally turned around and made his way down the steps, chuckling to himself again as he slid it back into it's sheath.

 

[LustLove]

Kristen stared after the retreating stranger who called himself Locke. Although his comments were sarcastic and rude which frankly made him appear to be an asshole, she figured it was only because he hadn't taken kindly to her rejection of his assistance. She had not meant to sound hateful or devoid of any emotion, she just didn't want the help of someone she hardly knew. There have been one too many experiences where she relied on another and was disappointed with the way the results had worked out. She really just wanted to be left alone and deal with the current situation by herself.

As soone as he closed the door behind him, she heard the trademark moans and groans of the undead population, the noises becoming louder and louder by the second. Then is when she cursed Locke for having come into the church and disturbing her peaceful and comfortable sanctuary. She was even more pissed that after firing her gun just once, she would have to park up as much as she could and say goodbye to the home she had made for herself and her baby. She cocked her gun in preparation for the hell that was about to break loose. Stepping up on one of the window sills, she glanced out to the street to have an idea of what she would she would have to deal with.

More and more came, from what seemed like nowhere, and she became a little frightened of how many of the undead she would ultimately have to face. Though Kristen tried to keep a tough exterior in front of every person she ever encountered, she was just a terrified girl inside. The more tough she acted indicated the more afraid she was. But she had to be this way for anyone other than her unborn child. How could she protect something so fragile and helpless if she couldn't keep a straight face to do so. She sucked in a deep breath, getting over her sudden fears, then stepped down from the sill. Approaching the door, she slowly accepted the doom she was about to face.

At the exact moment she was ready to open the door, hand on the doorknob and about to open it, she heard the voice of Locke. "DON'T THINK OF THAT AS HELPING YOU OUT! I WAS JUST MAKING SURE MY MACHETE STILL WORKS!" He hollered out to her from behind the door. She pressed her ear against the large door shortly after the comment and listened for the soft groans. To her surprise, there were none. Impressed with the quick swiftness of his handling of the creatures' demise. Kristen was ready to congratulate him, along with a gracious thank you. She was hesitant though since she didn't know if he would act like an asshole once again.

Deciding it was better to have him know that she wasn't completely heartless, she listened to the outside of the door more closely, wanting to make sure nothing sounded off. She then opened the door slightly and peeked out barely, her tiny head of blonde hair in between the small crack she had allowed. She looked out to the direction he was walking. "Locke!" she called his name out softly, for the sake of not drawing attention to herself and at the same time hoping he had heard.

 

[Rudolph Quin]

Locke heard the door open and cringed before he heard her voice, reluctantly turning around to face her while still standing on the steps. Great, he was in for it now. He tried to be a nice guy and it'd backfired on him once again. He should have just left her alone and let her deal with it. And then he was angry at how ridiculous the situation was. He didn't do anything wrong and he didn't want to apologize for lending her a hand! Ungrateful bitch! She was lucky he'd poked his nose into it in the first place! Then, he realized that wasn't necessarily true - if he hadn't been in there, the door would have never opened when he left and those Walkers would have lumbered by without being the wiser.

With a small click of his tongue, he glanced warily around at their surroundings and made his way back over to her, keeping his voice a low, raspy whisper so as not to attract any unwanted attention. "Look, I'm sorry, okay?" She was angry and not going to let him back inside to talk, so his goal was to get her to go back in there as quickly as possible, just to avoid any other unwanted encounters from the dead or the living. "I didn't mean to step on your toes but it was my fault they even noticed your door. I couldn't just leave without cleaning up the small mess I made." He lazily kicked the head of a corpse laying next to him and glanced at her. "But I'm not cleaning this mess up," he said with a smart snort.

"Look, I get it, okay? I understand why you want to handle this by yourself and why you won't let me stay and help you--actually, I'm lying. I don't understand that at all, but, the point is, it's your choice. I just didn't want to paint a target on your door and then leave you to deal with it like some self-fulfilling prophecy." Locke gave another cautious look around but for the moment the streets were clear. Glancing back at her he said, "Hey, is there anything you need? I'll keep my eyes open during my scavenging and share the wealth if I find any... like... blankets or... pickles or whatever pregnant ladies need." He lamely scratched the back of his head and gave her an awkward shrug.

 

[LustLove]

"I don't like pickles." Was the first thing that left Kristen's mouth. The thought that he would attach that connotation to her just because she was pregnant. Everything about this man made her extremely angry and got on the nerves endlessly. From the way that he spoke to her to the idiotic things that he did. She should have turned him away then, forcing him to promise that he would never come back to bother him again. Or she should at least scold him for being so careless, especially around her. But no matter how upset Kristen was with him at the moment, she couldn't bring herself to say anything bad to him. It might have been because he actually apologized and at least offered her some help. Whatever it was, it also made her wave her hand, ushering him back inside.

"You should come inside so we can talk." She suggested. She looked both ways of the street, exactly how parents taught their children to do when crossing the road. Her tone was low and she tried not drawing too much attention to the of them similar to what he had done. Figuring that he would come inside rather than stay in the open as walker bait, she opened the door of the church slightly more than it was before which would allow enough space for him to walk through.

 

[Rudolph Quin]

Oh, wait, she did want him to come inside to talk. Wait, what? Was she still angry? The way she brushed off his offer of pickles as if he were an idiot for suggesting it made him tense up defensively but when she waved him inside, he didn't hesitate before following her back into the church, if only to get her to close the damn door and stop tempting fate. "Oh, so, now you do want to talk to me? Make up your damn mind, woman! And can you please refrain from pointing your gun at me this time? Thanks." Walking into the church he took a few steps and perched himself on the back of a nearby pew. Folding his arms loosely over his lap, he stared at her and gave her an aggressive shrug. "So, why am I here, Marge Gunderson? You got an extensive shopping list or something? Because I'd just like to remind you that the world ended and not all of your little prissy amenities will still be available on the shelves at this point."

He didn't mean to be a jackass - not that he would admit that he was being one; she was the one being emotional and confusing from one moment to the next - but there was more to protecting a pregnant woman than just making sure she didn't get eaten. There was the shopping lists of course, where she might ask him to go looking for embarrassing crap - and not being a woman, how the hell was he supposed to know what any of her feminine hygiene shit was supposed to look like? But there was also the upcoming birth that had him nervous. Locke wasn't doubting the decision to help her because if she was going to let him stay, he'd never leave her side or abandon her. He was just nervous about the whole "needing to push a tiny human out of her vagina at some point" business, and everything related to it kind of had him on edge. What if something went wrong? Walkers he could deal with but he'd be pretty helpless if the baby's extension cord got tangled around it's neck or something broke inside her and she ended up bleeding to death.

Locke was so anxious about what he'd signed up for, he was almost hoping she would kick him out, just so he wouldn't fail her when it mattered. On the flip side, as long as her gun didn't get involved again, he'd argue with her til he was blue in the face to let him stay, because he'd be responsible if he left her to die on her own. It was a lose-lose situation and he'd already made up his mind. But it didn't stop him from being a jerk and taking it out on her. Wistfully, he remembered those nights when he was first on his own, playing Cyndi Lauper CDs on full blast outside with the LED lights shining like daylight on the roof of his building, while he danced shirtless amongst the horde of undead, blasting skulls open for kicks. If this woman truly was willing to put up with his shit, that meant his "bachelor days" were over. No more "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun".

 

[LustLove]

Kristen held back any snide comebacks she wanted to tell Locke though it was fairly hard for her to accomplish. He was being a jackass to her once again. This was another reason why she tended to keep to herself. Not only did she hate the attention due to the obvious fact that she was carrying a child but everyone always had something to say. Was it so hard to simply keep their mouths shut and appreciate that they hadn't died with the rest of the world? It was understandable to be bitter. Adjusting to the situation that the world had been dealt was difficult and it was nearly impossible to imagine that someone could go through it without having a mental breakdown, or at least close to one. Everything was fucked up; the people that you once knew and loved had disappeared, been killed, or were separated from you by thousands of miles, but that didn't give anyone even her, the authority to walk around with their ass on their shoulders.

So when Locke acted this way toward Kristen, she could completely sympathize with him which is why she didn't comment on his rude remarks. But the more he continued talking, the less sympathetic she became. He was so damn ungrateful. She had been kind enough to invite him back into the church and away from any walkers that could possibly notice him again and attack. She was even going as far as thanking him for getting rid of them so she wouldn't have to and risk losing the sanction that she now referred to as home. Even though he didn't know her intentions right away, that was no excuse for him to act the way he was at the moment. Shutting the door behind them and making sure it was locked securely, she strolled over to a spot that stood right in front of him. With exaggerated slowness, Kristen lifted her gun and pointed it in the center of him stomach as she stared him down with vicious, narrowed eyes. If he was going to stick around here, the first thing he needed to learn was how to speak to a woman.

"Let me tell you something, you asshole." Kristen started off menacingly, jabbing him hard with the butt of the rifle. "I don't know where the hell you learned your manners but let's get one thing straight. If you ever talk to me like that again, I'm going to kick your ass." The words the spilled from her mouth were much more harsh than she had intended. He just made her so upset though, she felt like her blood pressure had risen just from standing in the same area as him. It was frustrating to have to talk to him like a 5 years old but if he was going to act this way, that was how she was going to treat him. But when Kristen was about to say something else to him, an intense sharp pain shot from her womb and through the rest of her body. The pain was so sudden and unexpected, she dropped the gun to the floor and held onto her swollen belly. Her breathing became shallow in an instant and she leaned on one of the pews to prevent herself from falling over in exertion.