November 2nd, 20:32.
Dec. 1st, 2006 01:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
secret_history“Any idea what your girl has planned now?”
Randhir glanced up from the Bowie knife he’d been holding, turning it around in his hands, feeling the grip and balance, not sure that he ever wanted to get close enough to a zombie to be able to use it. Kurt was leaning against the wall, his shotgun cradled carefully in his arms.
“What do you mean, my girl?” he asked, surprised into sounding defensive.
“I mean Michaela. Isn’t she your girl?”
Randhir shook his head with a derisive snort. “Nah, we just met yesterday. She and that Marco guy are tight, anyway.”
“Huh. You could have fooled me, the way you look at her. Marco’s got himself a girl, you know, name of Sara. He told me, ‘cause he’s worried about her being trapped somewhere else in the city. He can’t get through to his home number.”
“He’s already got a girlfriend?” Randhir felt a ridiculous surge of hope. This really wasn’t the time, he told himself sternly.
“Yep. If we weren’t surrounded by zombies and probably doomed to die I’d ask her on a date myself, except she’s about ten years younger than me, and like I said: surrounded by zombies.”
Randhir let out a bitter laugh. “I know what you mean. It’s pretty stupid to be thinking about stuff like this when it’s the end of the goddamned world.”
“What better time to think about it?” Kurt countered. “Me, I’m planning on surviving, but I can’t do both at once. But if there was ever a good time, it’s when you can truthfully say to a girl that you’re literally the last man on earth.”
He grinned to show he wasn’t entirely serious, and Radhir laughed again, this time genuinely. “Tell me about it,” he agreed. “Though it doesn’t really say much for our hopes otherwise.”
“So, like I said: any idea what she has in mind?”
“Not really.” Randhir turned the knife in his hands, letting the light from the fluorescent bulbs above them reflect off the blade. “She called a friend of hers in Ontario who’s supposed to be some kind of survivalist nut. I suppose I shouldn’t call him that, since he was right and all. Anyway, looks like he’s willing to help out: if we pull our own asses out of the fire and make it to his place, he’ll give us shelter.”
Kurt looked impressed. “Decent guy. Not many people would even go that far, if it meant risking exposure. It’s pretty risky, though. I mean, we can hole up here for a decent amount of time, as long as we don’t open the door for the zombies, and as long as the water keeps running.”
“Let’s hope it keeps running. Mickey’s friend seems to think that the longer we stay in the city, the more we risk getting ourselves killed.”
Kurt stopped to think about that for a moment. “He might be right,” he admitted. “I mean, I don’t know how this sort of thing works, exactly, but it makes sense that the more people there are in one area, the higher the risk of them becoming infected and then spreading it themselves. So if the military don’t intervene soon, we could end up being trapped in the middle of the city, surrounded by zombies but without any food or water. Rock, meet hard place.”
“So you think we should do what this guy says?”
“Maybe. Who knows? Maybe by tomorrow the army will be crawling all over the streets and everything will be fine again.”
“Maybe.”
“Yeah, I’m not convinced either,” Kurt admitted. “The thing is, how are we going to get nine people all the way out there? There’s no regular car big enough to fit all of us, and I don’t keep a minivan handy, know what I mean?”
“Yeah. That could be a problem.” Randhir slid the knife back in its sheath, and chewed thoughtfully on the side of his thumb. “Maybe we could take more than one car?”
“You got a car? I don’t.”
“There are cars outside. Don’t go running around with this bit of information, but I can pretty much hotwire anything we might need.”
Kurt arched an eyebrow at him. “You’ll forgive me if I have trouble believing that. You really, and I mean really, don’t strike me as the grand theft auto type.”
Randhir gave him a sheepish grin. “Uh, no, not exactly. But I studied electrical engineering, and I paid my way through school by working as a car mechanic. So, uh, yeah: I know pretty much which wires go where in order to get a car started.”
“God, I’ve landed among the Renaissance Men of this city,” Kurt said with a disbelieving look. “Housewives who stab zombies with their knitting needles, girls who work for 911 and wield a gun practically better than I can, and now car-jacking electrical engineers. It’s like the freaking Twilight Zone, only without any supernatural stuff.”
“What can I say? I’m like an onion.”
“What?”
“I’ve got layers. Don’t you ever go to the movies?”
Kurt shook his head. “No. Well, yes. But I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It’s not important. Don’t worry about it.”
“I won’t, believe me. I have too many other things to worry about right now. Anyway, I gotta go check our perimeter, such as it is. Make sure things are still secure, and nothing’s trying to get inside.”
“You going to check on the kid? Paul?”
Kurt nodded grimly. “Yeah. I’m willing to bet he doesn’t have much more than a few hours at most, and I want to be there when... well, when he dies.”
“You don’t trust us to take care of it?”
The answer he got was a shrug. “I don’t trust any of us. It’ll be easier if there’s more than one person around to do it —and less dangerous. We have to be each other’s back up, in case something goes wrong, or at least doesn’t turn out the way we expect. I don’t think any of us is really prepared to shoot one of our own in cold blood, zombie or not.”
“We’ve done it before.”
“Yeah, Marco told me about that guy in the Canadian Tire. With all due respect, though, this is a little different. The guy from this morning? You barely had the time to get to know him. From the sound of it, though, you’ve all gotten pretty attached to this kid, and that’s going to make it a lot harder on you. Hell, it’s going to be hard on all of us. I don’t know him at all, really, so it might be easier for me to do what needs to be done.”
Randhir blew out his cheeks in a frustrated sigh. “This whole situation sucks.”
“It does, at that. I’ll catch you later, Randhir. Try and find out more about your girl’s plan, okay?”
He was about to protest that Michaela wasn’t ‘his girl,’ then thought better of it. There was no point, and he got the feeling Kurt wasn’t being entirely serious anyway.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll let you know if anything comes up.”
“I appreciate it.” With that, Kurt slung his shotgun over his shoulder and sauntered off.
Randhir glanced up from the Bowie knife he’d been holding, turning it around in his hands, feeling the grip and balance, not sure that he ever wanted to get close enough to a zombie to be able to use it. Kurt was leaning against the wall, his shotgun cradled carefully in his arms.
“What do you mean, my girl?” he asked, surprised into sounding defensive.
“I mean Michaela. Isn’t she your girl?”
Randhir shook his head with a derisive snort. “Nah, we just met yesterday. She and that Marco guy are tight, anyway.”
“Huh. You could have fooled me, the way you look at her. Marco’s got himself a girl, you know, name of Sara. He told me, ‘cause he’s worried about her being trapped somewhere else in the city. He can’t get through to his home number.”
“He’s already got a girlfriend?” Randhir felt a ridiculous surge of hope. This really wasn’t the time, he told himself sternly.
“Yep. If we weren’t surrounded by zombies and probably doomed to die I’d ask her on a date myself, except she’s about ten years younger than me, and like I said: surrounded by zombies.”
Randhir let out a bitter laugh. “I know what you mean. It’s pretty stupid to be thinking about stuff like this when it’s the end of the goddamned world.”
“What better time to think about it?” Kurt countered. “Me, I’m planning on surviving, but I can’t do both at once. But if there was ever a good time, it’s when you can truthfully say to a girl that you’re literally the last man on earth.”
He grinned to show he wasn’t entirely serious, and Radhir laughed again, this time genuinely. “Tell me about it,” he agreed. “Though it doesn’t really say much for our hopes otherwise.”
“So, like I said: any idea what she has in mind?”
“Not really.” Randhir turned the knife in his hands, letting the light from the fluorescent bulbs above them reflect off the blade. “She called a friend of hers in Ontario who’s supposed to be some kind of survivalist nut. I suppose I shouldn’t call him that, since he was right and all. Anyway, looks like he’s willing to help out: if we pull our own asses out of the fire and make it to his place, he’ll give us shelter.”
Kurt looked impressed. “Decent guy. Not many people would even go that far, if it meant risking exposure. It’s pretty risky, though. I mean, we can hole up here for a decent amount of time, as long as we don’t open the door for the zombies, and as long as the water keeps running.”
“Let’s hope it keeps running. Mickey’s friend seems to think that the longer we stay in the city, the more we risk getting ourselves killed.”
Kurt stopped to think about that for a moment. “He might be right,” he admitted. “I mean, I don’t know how this sort of thing works, exactly, but it makes sense that the more people there are in one area, the higher the risk of them becoming infected and then spreading it themselves. So if the military don’t intervene soon, we could end up being trapped in the middle of the city, surrounded by zombies but without any food or water. Rock, meet hard place.”
“So you think we should do what this guy says?”
“Maybe. Who knows? Maybe by tomorrow the army will be crawling all over the streets and everything will be fine again.”
“Maybe.”
“Yeah, I’m not convinced either,” Kurt admitted. “The thing is, how are we going to get nine people all the way out there? There’s no regular car big enough to fit all of us, and I don’t keep a minivan handy, know what I mean?”
“Yeah. That could be a problem.” Randhir slid the knife back in its sheath, and chewed thoughtfully on the side of his thumb. “Maybe we could take more than one car?”
“You got a car? I don’t.”
“There are cars outside. Don’t go running around with this bit of information, but I can pretty much hotwire anything we might need.”
Kurt arched an eyebrow at him. “You’ll forgive me if I have trouble believing that. You really, and I mean really, don’t strike me as the grand theft auto type.”
Randhir gave him a sheepish grin. “Uh, no, not exactly. But I studied electrical engineering, and I paid my way through school by working as a car mechanic. So, uh, yeah: I know pretty much which wires go where in order to get a car started.”
“God, I’ve landed among the Renaissance Men of this city,” Kurt said with a disbelieving look. “Housewives who stab zombies with their knitting needles, girls who work for 911 and wield a gun practically better than I can, and now car-jacking electrical engineers. It’s like the freaking Twilight Zone, only without any supernatural stuff.”
“What can I say? I’m like an onion.”
“What?”
“I’ve got layers. Don’t you ever go to the movies?”
Kurt shook his head. “No. Well, yes. But I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It’s not important. Don’t worry about it.”
“I won’t, believe me. I have too many other things to worry about right now. Anyway, I gotta go check our perimeter, such as it is. Make sure things are still secure, and nothing’s trying to get inside.”
“You going to check on the kid? Paul?”
Kurt nodded grimly. “Yeah. I’m willing to bet he doesn’t have much more than a few hours at most, and I want to be there when... well, when he dies.”
“You don’t trust us to take care of it?”
The answer he got was a shrug. “I don’t trust any of us. It’ll be easier if there’s more than one person around to do it —and less dangerous. We have to be each other’s back up, in case something goes wrong, or at least doesn’t turn out the way we expect. I don’t think any of us is really prepared to shoot one of our own in cold blood, zombie or not.”
“We’ve done it before.”
“Yeah, Marco told me about that guy in the Canadian Tire. With all due respect, though, this is a little different. The guy from this morning? You barely had the time to get to know him. From the sound of it, though, you’ve all gotten pretty attached to this kid, and that’s going to make it a lot harder on you. Hell, it’s going to be hard on all of us. I don’t know him at all, really, so it might be easier for me to do what needs to be done.”
Randhir blew out his cheeks in a frustrated sigh. “This whole situation sucks.”
“It does, at that. I’ll catch you later, Randhir. Try and find out more about your girl’s plan, okay?”
He was about to protest that Michaela wasn’t ‘his girl,’ then thought better of it. There was no point, and he got the feeling Kurt wasn’t being entirely serious anyway.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll let you know if anything comes up.”
“I appreciate it.” With that, Kurt slung his shotgun over his shoulder and sauntered off.
