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It was fucking cold.
Gray had forgotten it was winter, only momentarily in the rush to get out of Seaport, but the frigid sea air and the boat’s faulty heater reminded him soon enough. He spent most of his time shivering at least slightly, despite his best efforts. He knew cold, sure; he lived in Maine during a time in his life where he treasured solitude over all else, and Maine got cold. It offered its worst in January and surrounded Gray’s small cabin in snow. So, Gray knew cold; but not this type. This was Atlantic Ocean cold, harsh and biting, and there was no land, no warm city asphalt, to soften it. There was only a faulty heater that Gray spent all his inner strength trying not to kick, and—
“Gray, what’s wrong?”
And Nick. Gray shook his head, sparing a glance out at the choppy ocean ahead of them before turning to Nick. The child was trembling, despite the layers of sweaters Gray had given him, and the bright red scarf, a memory of a time that now seemed worlds away. “Nothing—” Gray’s eyes widened as he realized how close they were to the railing. “Hey— let’s back up. I thought you were napping.”
“I woke up,” Nick said, lifting his arms. Gray sighed and lifted Nick, holding him securely and cringing at how much he was shaking. “You left and it got cold.”
“I’m sorry, I just had to stretch my legs,” Gray said, carrying Nick further from the edge of the boat. They ended up in the boat’s bridge, and Gray sat Nick in the captain’s chair as he checked that the boat’s autopilot was still on course. He’d gotten it working after all, and as far as he could tell from his admittedly limited boating experience, they were headed in the right direction. How close they were to Greenfield, he was less sure of, however. The boat’s small, grainy screen was unhelpful, and there was only ocean everywhere Gray looked.
“Have you ever been to Greenfield?” Gray asked, and Nick shook his head. “Me neither. They sent me straight to Seaport.”
Nick slumped in the captain’s chair at the mention of Seaport, and Gray winced. It had been hard for the kid, that was for sure. Seaport was his home, and all he had left of it was a Scooby Doo backpack with as many precious items as it could hold. Gray felt bad, like the bombing could’ve been avoided altogether; he’d assumed the military would leave the small island alone. But they didn’t, after all, and now it was gone. He’d gathered up a decently long list of angry responses to the marines in his head, complete with obscenities and violent descriptions, but he couldn’t ever bring himself to utter them aloud to himself around a five year old.
“I’m sorry,” he said instead, and Nick looked up at him. “They didn’t have to do that. To your home.”
Nick brought his knees up to his chest and offered a sad smile that broke Gray’s heart. “Home is me and you,” he said, and Gray smiled back at him.
“You’re right, Nick.”
——
Gray woke up early the next morning to the unpleasant squawking of seagulls and the absence of Nick. Frowning, he set aside a stuffed animal and got out of bed, ducking his head cautiously under the edge of the bunk above him as he did. He could feel the boat moving, and the sound of waves had picked up considerably since he’d gone to bed. An uneasy feeling welled up in his gut, and he walked quickly to the door leading outside. He’d lately been prone to thinking of nightmare scenarios, stuck on a boat with not much else to think about, and he wanted to see Nick before his mind ran too far from him.
Nick opened the door from the other side before Gray could grab hold of the handle. “Oh! Hey, Nick, I told you not to wander too much outside,” Gray said, reaching down to pick Nick up. Nick shook his head and waved his hands in front of him. His eyes were wide, and he was shaking, and Gray feared for a moment that a walker had frightened him.
“Gray— come look!” Nick took Gray’s wrist instead, and Gray let Nick pull him outside. They ran at a five year old’s pace to the bridge, where Nick pushed Gray up to the controls and pointed to the grainy screen. “Look!”
“I’m looking, buddy, I’m—” Gray hesitated, and leaned in closer. There was something else on the screen besides the small spec that represented the boat. On the very edge, approaching them one slowly rendered frame at time, was land. “Greenfield,” Gray breathed, looking out ahead of them in an attempt to discern an outline of land through the fog, to no avail. “That explains the seagulls, and the rocking picking up.”
Gray, who always thought he’d be jumping for joy at this moment, felt only a creeping dread. He kept saying there would be a long, rough road ahead, speaking in gentle terms to Nick whenever questions of the journey would arise. But for all that talking, Gray realized he’d processed very little of it himself.
“Things are going to be different, aren’t they?” Nick asked, holding Gray’s hand. Gray looked down, and nodded. He opened his mouth to utter words of reassurance, but Nick beat him to it. “It’s gonna be okay,” Nick said, and though his voice wavered with uncertainty, it was something. Gray nodded to him, and smiled.
“We should get ready.”
——
The boat approached the mainland as the sun rose further and the fog cleared just enough to show them the way and let Gray dock the boat without much issue. Gray and Nick walked to the edge of the boat, Nick clinging to Gray’s leg. Quick observation revealed that the dock was much closer than Seaport’s was, with no need for any perilous jumps. Gray sighed as he tucked a gun under his jacket, into his back pocket.
Nick was fiddling with the strap of his backpack, and Gray took a moment to kneel down and wrap Nick’s scarf around him one more time, so it wouldn’t drag. Then, at Nick’s level, he figured now would be the best time to talk to the poor boy.
“We’re going to find the first quiet, high up place we can, and we’re going to take a breather, alright? I need to think for a minute, get the lay of the land,” Gray said, patting Nick’s shoulder. “I’ll carry you, keep your head down, don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe.”
Nick nodded, and Gray got up, jumping down from the boat to the dock. He turned and held out his arms to Nick, who let Gray help him down from the boat and hold him. Nick wrapped tight arms around Gray’s neck and peeked out at the city over Gray’s shoulder. Gray began to walk.
Everything about Greenfield seemed much larger than Seaport. Apartment buildings towered over them with occasional hints of movement in the windows that made Gray walk faster, and an imposing shade that blocked the sun and its limited heat. It made Gray feel awfully small, and as he walked with Nick through the city, a realization creeped forth: the world was so terrifyingly large compared to the two of them. It had been easy to forget that in Seaport, a tiny, vacant island that Gray had easily come to know every inch of. Now, however, the city was big, they were small, and they sure as hell weren’t the only ones there.
“People are looking,” Nick whispered, and Gray held him closer, looking up once again at the windows and picking up the pace. There was a face in one, pale and wide eyed, and Gray reminded Nick with a gentle hand on his head to hide in his shoulder.
It didn’t take too long to find a tall enough building that had no barricades. Gray sighed in relief and approached it, shifting Nick to one arm and using the other to grab his gun and fiddle with the safety. “Hold on,” he said to Nick, who took a peek at the gun and gasped, hiding his face again. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”
Gray nudged the door open with his foot, side stepping into the lobby of the apartment building and scanning it, gun held out ahead of him. After a moment of silence, Gray closed the door behind them, and set Nick down. “I don’t think anyone’s here, the lock on the door still works, and there are plenty of things in here that could’ve served as an easy barricade to add on,” Gray said, locking the door and jiggling the doorknob.
“But what about the walkers?” Nick asked, holding Gray’s free hand with both of his own. Gray winced at the word Nick used — dammit, he didn’t like that Nick picked that up from him — and shrugged.
“I don’t hear much, but there might be some higher up, or in the apartments. I’ll carry you up the stairwell as fast as I can, okay?” Gray took a moment to stretch his arms and shake off the slight tremble in them, before he picked Nick up again and jogged to the stairwell. Gun in hand, Gray began his ascent.
The door leading to the second floor was shut, and as Gray passed it, he heard a quiet groan coming from the other side. Nick whined, and Gray took a deep breath, figuring a break in the safe silence was worth it.
“I bet you the CDC has at least one TV. Or maybe a computer, with— with a place to play DVDs,” Gray said as he walked up another flight of stairs. “You can play that Scooby Doo movie you brought along, show me what all the fuss is about. You have it in your bag right?”
“Uh huh,” Nick mumbled, and after a brief silence, added: “Scooby Doo and the Witch’s Ghost.”
“Right, right.” Gray nodded, swiftly passing another door where there was a distant banging noise. “And there will be a bed, so you can take out all of your stuffed animals, without worrying too much about losing one. We won’t have to move around, then, or worry about going out to get food, you know. We’ll be safe, we’ll be taken care of.”
Nick had gotten hooked. “And— and maybe people we both know will be there! Your friends maybe, and my sister and my mom,” he added, and Gray smiled. “And new friends too. I think you should have some new friends.”
Gray gasped. “What do you mean? You think I don’t have any friends?”
“I think you would act a little happier if you had new friends.”
“What!”
Nick only giggled, and Gray sighed dramatically and shook his head, though he couldn’t contain his grin. “I’ve got you, so for now I have one friend at least. Right?”
“Right.” Nick nodded. There was another round of quiet, and then Nick spoke again. “I hope it doesn’t feel like forever before we get there.”
Gray stopped for a moment, halfway up a step. He pondered what to say for a moment; deflect and agree with him, lie and say it won’t, or tell him the truth, and stress him out. “I hope so too,” Gray said, and he continued to climb. The hesitation must have been telling, however, because Nick snuggled in closer and messed with the collar of Gray’s jacket.
There was a pit in Gray’s stomach.
——
When they made it to the top level, Gray found the door to the suite and figured living in post apocalyptic luxury for a few days wouldn’t be all too bad. The door was half open, and Gray set Nick down and went in first, just in case. It was immediately clear by the disheveled state of the place, however, that the owners left in a panic. Gray lowered his gun. “Come in, Nick, these guys fled.”
“Oh.” Nick walked in and closed the door gently behind him. “What do we do now?”
Gray took off his bag and sat on one of the couches, which gave a perfect view of the city ahead. “Take a minute,” Gray said, patting the seat next to him and pulling out two bottles of water from his bag. Nick walked over and sat next to Gray, and they looked out at the city together. “Have some water, I need to think.”
Nick did, taking a water bottle from Gray and sipping from it quietly as Gray unfolded a map of Greenfield he’d found on the boat. He’d drawn out a planned route in pen, but with another glance out at the city, it was beginning to make him nervous.
“We’re gonna cross through Greenfield and follow the I-95 as best we can until South Carolina, south of Columbia, where we’ll break off and move inland to Atlanta. It’s simple, straightforward, and mostly allows us to follow a single road... but it means cities. Big cities. So... lots of this... but more,” Gray said, more to himself than to Nick. He stood, and wandered closer to the window. A few streets away, a group of walkers dragged themselves along. Gray turned away. “But if we keep moving, get ahead on time, maybe we can afford to walk around them. There are a lot of walk— of, um, the infected, in cities.”
Nick pulled his knees to his chest, and Gray sighed. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to be hearing all this,” he said, dragging a hand down his face. “For now, all we need to worry about is stocking up on supplies again. So we can stay here for— for a few days, while I do that.”
Nick seemed to lighten up a bit at that, and Gray sat back down and scratched Nick’s back. “You hungry?”
“Uh huh.”
Gray handed Nick a granola bar and leaned back on the couch, shutting his eyes and attempting, unsuccessfully, to force back his anxiety.
——
When Gray stepped into the first store he saw the next morning, he knew the previously simple matter of finding supplies would now be a lot more than he bargained for. The aisles were barren, scavenged by those who’d been in Greenfield a lot longer than Gray and Nick. Gray would have to venture further for food, or maybe clear out the apartments in the building he’d claimed. He was hoping to avoid doing both of those things (unfamiliar territory and leaving Nick alone for longer for the first, and as for the second, gunshots echoed), but his good ol’ Seaport denial wouldn’t fly, not anymore.
Gray stepped back out of the store with a sigh. He walked, anxious and alone, in the middle of the street in search of less looted places. He glanced back for a moment at the apartment building they stayed in, and winced at the thought of Nick alone up there. He’d left Nick there, unsure of what else to do, and unwilling to expose the curious boy to the near unavoidable killing of walkers that came with supply runs. He wasn’t sure how that would work on the road, but he’d figure it out... though, he’d been leaving many things for future Gray, and wasn’t sure—
Footsteps behind him, quick and staggered, put Gray’s thoughts on hold. He turned quickly and pointed his gun, and a man stopped in his tracks and yelped, lifting his arms to cover his face. “Wait— please hold on—”
“What do you want?” Gray hissed, careful not to be too loud. The man lowered his arms slowly, hands spread out to show an absence of ill intent. His eyes were wide, staring down the barrel of the gun that was pointed at his head. He seemed unarmed himself, carrying nothing but a backpack that clinked with the familiar sound of canned food as he moved his arms. Gray relaxed, just a bit.
“Please— that kid you were with—” Gray’s eyes narrowed, and the man jumped at the change in demeanor. “I saw you— I mean no harm to him, or you, but I saw you two yesterday by the docks. And you— you aren’t with him?”
“I fail to see why that is any of your business.”
“No— you should go back. Wherever you left him, you should go back right now— and never leave him alone again,” the man stammered, and if it weren’t for the man’s frantic demeanor, Gray would have assumed it was a threat.
Instead, he gave it a chance. “Why? What do you mean?” he asked, glancing once again to the apartment building where Nick was hiding.
“Never split the group, especially if there’s a helpless kid involved. You’re easy pickings that way, they’ll get him, then they’ll get you when you come back. It happened— it happened to my group,” the man explained, slightly calmer now. “I’m the only one left, of six.”
“Oh.” Gray took a step back, his heart rate speeding up as the realization dawned on him. Nick was alone. Nick was alone. “Oh.”
“You should be fine if you’re passing through, but— I take it you need supplies.” The man held up his arms and slowly took off his backpack. “I doubt this is enough for wherever you’re headed, I have a feeling it’s far, but you can take my stuff.” He held it out, and dropped it. “They’re going to find me sooner or later, I’d rather this stuff get put to good use.”
“Who’s—” The man turned and ran, and Gray took a step towards him. “Wait— who’s they!”
The man ducked behind a building, and disappeared, leaving Gray alone in the middle of the road. Gray looked at the backpack, and went to pick it up. He unzipped it and found that it was indeed full of canned goods and water bottles. He looked towards the building, then back to the bag, and he cursed. He zipped it up and put it on, over his own, and broke out into a sprint back to their apartment building.
Stupid. This wasn’t Seaport. Gray didn’t know this place, its people or its nooks and crannies or its dangers. Leaving Nick alone was a bad choice, a terrible one, in fact. Gray cursed again, a bit louder, and sped up.
As Gray made it back to the building and stumbled up the stairs, he realized he was really, really not good at this. He’d been a— he’d... taken care of Nick for a bit over two months now and in the grand scheme of things, that was a very short amount of time. He was no expert at this stuff. And now, here, there was little room for error, with missteps possibly being the difference between life and death. It was true, no matter how much it pained Gray to think about. He had to be better.
Gray opened the door to their suite and ran inside. “Nick!” he called, running to the bedroom and kneeling down, looking under the bed. “Nick.”
Nick poked his head out of a blanket and gasped. “Gray,” he said, reaching out and having Gray help him out. Gray sat up and hugged Nick, his breath still heavy from running. “What’s the matter?”
“I’m not leaving you alone again,” Gray said, leaning against the bed. “That can’t happen anymore.”
“It’s not safe anymore, is it,” Nick whispered, and Gray let out a shaky sigh.
“No, it’s not.” And, against his better judgement, Gray let the next few words slip. “It’s not safe anywhere anymore.”
Nick hugged Gray tighter and hid his face in Gray’s shoulder.
“But,” Gray added, “if you’re with me, I can protect you, alright? You know I’d never let anything happen to you.”
Nick nodded, and Gray picked him up, setting him on the bed. “I got some stuff today, I got... lucky... we’ll go out tomorrow for more,” Gray said, fixing Nick’s hair. “Are you hungry?”
“A little,” Nick admitted, and Gray smiled.
“I’ll make you something,” he said, vowing silently to keep his word, and keep Nick as safe as he could in an unsafe world.
——
“Gray?”
“Yeah, bud?”
It was pitch black in the dark bedroom, with the drawn curtains and the lack of electricity (and therefore, lack of light) in the city. They were in bed, Nick snuggled up next to Gray, back turned to the ominous dark. It was late, and neither of them could sleep.
“I’m scared. For tomorrow.”
“Me too,” Gray whispered, scratching Nick’s back. “But we need to be brave, remember? This isn’t forever, we just need to push through it together, and things will get better.”
Nick sniffled. “When we watch Scooby Doo, you won’t fall asleep, right? My dad would always fall asleep, and— and at the best parts, too. I think he got tired of it,” he mumbled, fussing with Gray’s jacket.
Gray scoffed; it seemed like such a stupid thing now, to get tired of movies your kids loved. “I would love to watch Scooby Doo with you as many times as you want,” Gray promised. “And I’ll never fall asleep.”
——
“Why do walkers—”
“Infected...” Gray looked up from tying Nick’s shoes, and Nick huffed. It was the next morning, and after an unconventional breakfast of canned peas and corn, they were getting ready to head out.
“Why do they want to hurt people?”
Gray patted Nick’s shoes and leaned back, sitting on his heels and thinking for a moment. “They’re just... hungry, I think was the general consensus among scientists.”
“Oh. So... the virus doesn’t make people act mean on purpose,” Nick said, and Gray nodded.
“No. From what I remember, it just... is their nature. Like predators hunt prey, so do these guys,” Gray explained, watching as Nick squinted and processed it for a moment.
“We’re prey for the walkers, then,” Nick said. Gray sighed and stood up.
“Infected. We should go, we need what daylight we can get,” he pressed, holding out a free hand. Nick held it, and stood up, looking down at the various layers of jackets he had on, then looking back to Gray. “Hey— it’s cold, alright? Gosh... we should find you a hat too, on second thought.”
“Graaay,” Nick whined, bouncing on his heels. Gray shook it off and nodded.
“Right, right. Let’s go.” Gray led Nick out of the suite, and down the stairs. “When we get back, if we aren’t too tired, I want to finish clearing the floors, though I didn’t find very much when I started yesterday. Looks like people did loot this place and then left.”
“Why did everyone just freak out?” Nick asked, hopping down a stair. “Everyone did, I mean. It was on the news.”
Gray sighed. “When there’s a big event like this, people panic. And... when people think the world is going to end... they do what they want. Rules kind of broke down, pretty fast,” he said, and Nick hummed. He was silent for a moment, thinking it over.
“Aren’t we doing what we want?”
They reached the bottom of the stairs, and Gray took a moment to mess with his bag and gun before answering. “We are, to the best of our ability, at least.”
“Okay,” Nick said, and as they walked outside he squinted against the sunlight. “So you think... it’s the end of the world.”
Gray inhaled, and held his breath for a moment. “As we know it,” he sighed, shoulders sagging a bit. “It sure is a lot different now, isn’t it?”
Nick looked up at the worn down buildings and the empty streets, and nodded. “I see what you’re saying,” he said, squeezing Gray’s hand. “Can we go now?”
Gray jumped, realizing they’d been standing still in front of their building. “Right, yeah.” He shook his head, and they pressed onward.
Greenfield was not Gray’s favorite place, not by a long shot. The various alleys and windows (possible hiding places) made him nervous, and he walked faster to pass them. Nick shared Gray’s sentiment, jumping at small noises and huddling closer when they came upon an alley on his side. It wasn’t long before Gray picked Nick up, and he could feel the poor boy shaking in the slightest. It was upsetting, to say the least.
It didn’t help that the whole city and its shadowy corners gave off the eerie feeling of being watched. It could have been Gray’s imagination, after the frantic man’s vague yet fear-inducing words from the day before, but he had a gut feeling that something was off. He had urges to check over his shoulder, to hold Nick closer, to pick up the pace for a block or two. Logic said it was all in his head; the mental effect of unfamiliar terrain and experiences that he would soon get used to. But he usually trusted his gut.
He was freed from his thoughts when Nick began to move, suddenly eager to get down. “Gray— look. Kitty,” Nick whispered, pointing to a stray cat licking the remnants of a can of tuna. “Kitty!”
“Nick— shh—” Gray set Nick down. “Keep your voice down, alright?”
“Can I pet the cat?” Nick asked, eyes wide. Gray sighed, and Nick pouted, clasping his hands together in front of him.
Gray blinked, and nodded. He was weak. “Okay. Be careful, please.”
“Thank you!” Nick turned to the cat, and walked slowly up to it. It was an orange tabby, and a well fed one, by the looks of it. Gray followed, and Nick pulled him down. “Don’t scare it away,” Nick whispered. Gray couldn’t help but smile as he knelt down next to Nick.
Nick stretched out a hand, and the cat looked up and sniffed it. Gray was on standby, waiting for a hiss, or a bite, but to his shock, the cat headbutted Nick’s hand in an act of affection. Nick grinned and pet the cat, giggling as it fell over and let Nick scratch its belly, purring loudly.
“You’re a cat whisperer, Nick,” Gray said, in awe. Nick giggled at Gray’s comment and sat to pet the cat some more. Gray watched over him and the (admittedly cute) cat, until he heard faint footsteps and turned around, a protective hand on Nick’s back and the other holding his gun.
There was a group of three on the other side of the street. They looked young, like college kids, and they stopped in their tracks when Gray locked eyes on them. Nick was still entranced by the cat, and they looked at him, one covering their mouth and another looking away sadly. Gray narrowed his eyes at the group. The kids looked anxiously between each other and then back to Gray and Nick.
One reached into their bag, and Gray started to get up. But the kid held out their hands, reaching slower this time, and pulling out a can of food. They leaned over, and rolled the can towards Gray, who caught it. The kid nodded to him, and then the group moved on, glancing over their shoulders at Nick at various points and darting around a corner.
“Gray—” Gray jumped at Nick’s voice, and Nick gasped. “I’m sorry— who were they?”
“You were looking?” Gray asked, and Nick nodded.
“At the end.”
“Just another group. They gave us,” Gray checked the can, “pasta, look at that.” He put it away, and cleared his throat. “We should keep moving.”
Nick pouted again, but turned back to the cat. “Bye kitty,” he said, giving the cat one last head scratch and standing up. Gray followed suit, and picked Nick up.
“Gray, say bye kitty!”
Gray hesitated, and turned back around to the cat.
“Bye, kitty.”
——
“Oh, here, kid’s clothing,” Gray said, pausing and turning into a small store. “We’ll get you a winter hat.”
Nick perked up at that, and Gray noticed. He smiled. “Only a hat, nothing else. Then we should head back, my bag is full anyway,” Gray said, scanning the store for a moment before walking any further inside.
There hadn’t been too many walkers, only a few that Gray could easily run past; he assumed most people evacuated the city before things got too bad, and now its main danger seemed to be the living, not the undead. Though, his encounters with survivors seemed to be fairly non threatening so far as well... but he wouldn’t let his guard down.
The store seemed clear. Gray set Nick down and roamed a bit, not thinking too hard about why the place was hardly looted. Nick tugged on his arm, pointing towards an assortment of animal themed winter hats. “There we are,” Gray said, walking up to them. “Take your pick, I guess.”
Gray could’ve sworn not even a second went by before Nick pointed to a gray hat with a cat face and ears on it. Gray smiled and grabbed it, ripping off the tag with a clean accuracy that made Nick raise his eyebrows. He handed it to Nick, who put it on and messed with the pom poms hanging off the sides.
“Adorable,” Gray said, and Nick giggled. “Now your head will be warm. Let’s get back, you’re looking tired.”
“A little,” Nick admitted as Gray picked him up again and walked out of the store. Nick was downplaying it; he was much quieter for the walk back, and his eyes drooped every once in a while, small noises startling him back awake. He seemed cold, as well, despite the layers, and as an added measure, Gray zipped him up in his jacket.
Nick was asleep by the time they got back, and Gray quickly traversed the stairs to get him to bed. “Good job, Nick,” Gray said as he set Nick down and pulled a blanket over him. “Real good job.”
He let Nick sleep, and walked to the living room to sort the food.
——
Gray scraped at a can of pasta with a plastic fork. He and Nick were sitting on the couch, looking out once again through the ceiling to floor windows as the sky became tinted orange. “We could head out tomorrow, we have enough. I wanted to see what was going on with the military outpost, I remember where they said it was, it’s on our way out,” Gray said, thinking aloud. “I don’t like it here.”
“Mhm...” Nick picked at his food, and Gray raised an eyebrow.
“What’s wrong, bud?”
“Uhh,” Nick set his can down, and brought his knees to his chest. “You were shooting your gun downstairs earlier.”
Gray paused mid-bite. He put his food down as well. “I... was— I was clearing the lower floors, looking for more food.”
“And shooting walkers?”
“Nick—”
“It was loud,” Nick said. Gray leaned back, and let out a breath.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, and Nick hummed, rubbing his eyes with his sleeve. “I’ll try to avoid— Nick?”
Nick sniffled and pulled his hat over his eyes, bringing his knees to his chest. Gray gasped and scooted closer. “Nick, hey, come here,” he breathed, wrapping an arm around Nick and rubbing his arm. “I know, buddy, I know. It’s gonna be alright, I know it’s scary.”
“I don’t know how to be brave anymore,” Nick whimpered, crawling into Gray’s lap. Gray gave Nick a hug and rocked slightly back and forth, unsure of what else to do. He shushed Nick and scratched his back, looking solemnly out the window as the sun set on Greenfield.
——
Gray was eager to leave. He was awake far before the sun rose the next morning, with little sleep to accompany him. Though he’d become half-convinced that the man's talk of a mysterious group was referring to the walkers, and that his own paranoia was unfounded, he was still irked by the place and more than ready to get a move on.
Once the supplies were packed, and Nick’s strewn about stuffed animals were gathered in a pile, Gray sat back on the bed where Nick was still sleeping, and held his head in his hands.
He hated seeing Nick upset, and yet another revelation about their new way of life had come creeping up on him last night as he tried to sleep: Nick would be upset a lot. Upset, and unsafe, in a world filled with things that had no sympathy for children. Gray wiped his eyes and let out a few shaky breaths, allowing himself this one moment.
“I’m so sorry, Nick. Okay.” He dragged his hands down his face and ran fingers through his hair. He shook his head. “Okay. We’re good.”
“Gray?”
Gray inhaled, and turned around. Nick was awake, blinking sleep out of his eyes. Gray cursed under his breath. “Did I wake you up? I’m sorry,” he said, patting Nick’s shoulder. “You should go back to bed.”
“Is it hard for you to be brave too?” Nick whispered, and Gray laid down next to him, still in awe of the child’s emotional intelligence.
“Maybe a little. But don’t worry about me, Nick, I’ll be fine,” Gray brushed it off. “It’s you I'm worried about. I don’t want to keep going if you’re not doing well. We can find a place. Just say the word.”
Nick played with the end of his scarf, and after a period of pondering silence, he said, “I wanna watch Scooby Doo with you.”
Gray laughed, and covered his eyes as he began to tear up. “Oh god, Nick, I do too,” he said, and as Nick smiled at him, he was reminded of the reason they were taking the journey in the first place, and how important it was. Nick wouldn’t be safe for a while, maybe, but one day he would be. “Let’s get there, then. Let’s get there, okay?”
“Okay,” Nick said, snuggling up next to Gray. “But when the sun comes up.”
Gray shut his eyes and smiled. “It’s a deal.”
——
The morning air was bitter and crisp, and Nick was distracted easily by the visible puffs of his breath as they stepped out of their building for the last time. Nick had his backpack, with Gray’s stuffed wolf head popping out of the side.
“Hopefully it’ll warm up at least a little when we’re further from the ocean,” Gray said, rubbing his arms. “It got warmer than when we were on the boat, didn’t it?”
Nick nodded, and for a moment they paused, and listened to the familiar crashes of the waves at the shore only a few blocks away, audible from so far only because of the post-apocalyptic silence. Gray and Nick looked at each other.
“Do you want to get a shell, or something?” Gray asked. “We’ll be heading more inland, it’s possible we won’t see the ocean again.”
Nick nodded, and Gray smiled down at him. They walked towards the docks, Gray holding Nick’s hand to stop him from running too far ahead.
There was a narrow patch of sand, shells, and trash before concrete jungle turned to vast ocean. Gray set Nick down in a pot with less litter, before jumping down himself. Nick knelt down, wet sand and shells crunching beneath his shoes, and looked for a shell. He found two, one a pretty spiral with a hole in it, and the other, on closer inspection, not a shell but a sand dollar.
“Sand dollars are pretty,” Gray said as Nick handed it over. Gray tucked it safely in the pocket of his jacket for now, and held out his hand for the second. Nick shook his head, and instead fished out a piece of string from his own pocket. He brought the shell close to his face and stuck the string through the hole, tying up the ends to make a necklace.
“I’ve been saving the string to make you something,” Nick explained, holding the necklace up. “I lost my beads a while ago.”
Gray put a hand on his chest. “For me,” he breathed, taking the necklace gently. “Thanks, Nick, I owe you one.”
“You got me a hat,” Nick said, shrugging it off. Gray smiled and took off his dog tags, shoving them away in his other pocket. He put the shell necklace on, and held out his arms. “It looks cool on you.”
“I bet it does,” Gray said, lifting Nick back up to the dock and hopping up right after. “Now, say bye to the ocean.”
“Bye, ocean!” Nick waved, and Gray held his free hand. He waved goodbye himself, and they turned away from the mass of water, back into the city.
——
“Alright, here we are,” Gray said, approaching the mix of barbed wire and sandbags surrounding a small cluster of beige tents. A tattered sign was posted in front, with “U.S. MARINES” hastily carved on it. “The military outpost. They said they left for the CDC, but maybe there are some things left over, hell, maybe after the stunt they pulled they left something for me and you.”
Nick huffed at the sign and turned his head away as they walked in. Gray dug through a few crates, finding nothing but spare ammo and food, neither of which he needed or had room for. Nick waited anxiously, bouncing up and down on his heels and whining. “Gray...”
“Just a second, if there’s a silencer in one of these it would really help— aha, there we are!” Gray picked up a silencer, and turned to mess with his gun just as Nick turned to look back at the door and froze. Gray held out his gun, now equipped with the silencer, and nodded, satisfied. He put it away and took a note and a pair of car keys out of the same crate. He read the note to himself, lest it have something Nick shouldn’t hear.
‘Gray— I pray you read this in time. I convinced the Major to leave you a Jeep. This place may be getting bombed as well. I’m not sure when you’ll read this, but get the hell out of dodge, just to be safe. Godspeed.’
Gray lowered the note and glanced over to a worn down beige Jeep. “Shit, we better get—”
Nick tugged harshly at Gray’s sleeve. Gray turned around, and looked down at Nick. “Hey, what’s—” He looked where Nick was pointing, and inhaled sharply, reaching for his gun.
“I wouldn’t,” the man warned, standing at the entrance to the outpost in a bright red winter coat. Gray hesitated, sparing quick glances at the windows around them. “There’s more than just me.”
“What the hell is this,” Gray breathed, reaching down slowly and picking Nick up.
The man, tall and unnaturally red-haired, flashed a smile. “Word on the street is you know my group by a vague mention, but not me by name,” he said, and Gray took a few frantic steps back. “It’s Red. Pleasure.”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re—” Gray cut himself off, eyes widening. He said group. “Oh... shit.”
“Yeah, you really should have taken that poor man a bit more seriously. You were his last good deed, after all.”
“Nick, ears,” Gray ordered, and Nick covered his ears and hid his face. Red scoffed.
“You look a lot like a cornered animal right now.” Red held out his arms. “You know, this is my territory.”
“We were just leaving,” Gray hissed, holding Nick closer, aware of how much the boy was shaking. “We don’t mean to cause trouble.”
“Passing through,” Red added. Gray nodded. “I understand. Father and son, passing through. My men saw your dog tags, we figured you’d swing by here at some point. Couldn’t just let you leave.”
“So you corner me and pick me off here,” Gray said. Red shrugged and grinned. “Why? Because we trespassed?”
“No. No hard feelings, truly. We’re just running out of people here, you know. You understand this struggle.” Red chuckled. “Running out of food.”
Gray covered his mouth and stepped back again. “Oh, Christ, you’re—”
“Just trying to survive, same as you.”
“Fuck you,” Gray spat, and Red sighed.
“Creative.”
Gray winced at his next words, but said them anyway. “Too bad the bomb’s getting us first.”
Nick gasped and looked up at Gray. Red paused, and held up a finger. “Bomb. Like they did to that tiny little island out there? That’s happening here,” he said, smile fading.
Gray nodded. “Any minute, that’s why we’re in a hurry, we just found out,” he said, scoffing. “Do you have some sort of stash? I bet you do. You can say goodbye to all of that, y’know. Unless you get it out in time.”
Gray kicked the keys towards Red. “Should still work. Pretty big, big enough to load a lot of gear. You don’t have to start scratch that way.”
“I can deal with you and get my shit out,” Red said, though he was less composed than before.
Gray shrugged. “It’s up to luck, then. If you think you have the spare time.”
Red and Gray stared at each other for just a few moments, though it seemed agonizingly long for Gray. Nick was trembling in Gray’s arms.
Red glanced down at the keys, and signaled someone from above. Gray let out a barely audible breath of relief as Red picked up the keys and stepped aside, clearing the entryway and staring. Gray sidestepped around him, hardly even blinking, before turning and breaking into a sprint. Red watched them leave.
Gray only spoke until he’d put a block’s distance from them and Red. “Oh Christ, oh Jesus,” he breathed, shaking his head. “Holy hell.”
Nick took a deep breath, as if he’d been holding his breath the entire time. “How’d you do that!” he asked, voice frantic.
“I don’t know, I have no idea. We have to get out of here, though, I wasn’t lying about the bomb,” Gray said, looking over his shoulder for only a second. “Well, kind of lying. It might happen. It probably will happen. But probably not right this instant.”
“You saved our lives,” Nick said, eyes wide. Gray nodded.
“I told you I’d protect you, right?” he said, trying to shake the phrase lingering in his mind.
‘I saved Red’s life, too.’
He shook it off, and kept running.
——
“I think we’re far enough away,” Gray said, out of breath. He set Nick down and collapsed against a building, patting a spot next to him. Nick sat next to him as he pulled out a water bottle and drank most of it right then. “Fucking hell— oh, sorry.”
“I’ve heard you cuss before,” Nick said, and Gray shrugged.
“Principle.”
“What now?” Nick asked, and Gray covered his mouth in thought for a moment.
“Keep walking. Until dark, then we’ll find a place to sleep and check the maps. The I-95 shouldn’t be too far,” Gray explained, and Nick nodded.
They sat in silence for a moment as Gray chugged more water and slowed his heart rate. Nick twiddled his thumbs.
“He eats people.”
“Don’t worry about him anymore,” Gray advised. “Scooby Doo, remember? Scooby Doo.”
“Scooby Doo,” Nick repeated. “My sister and I used to sing along to the Hex Girls songs. Every time.”
Gray chuckled. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Nick giggled back. “Gray.”
“Nick?”
“I think that we can do it.”
“Sing along to the Hex Girls?”
“Make the trip silly!” Nick corrected, and Gray gasped and nodded. Nick laughed and kicked his feet.
“Yeah,” Gray said. “I think so too.”
They smiled at each other, and Gray ruffled Nick’s hair.
“I really do think so.”