Chapter Text
“How’s she doing?” Ciri babbles around her fist, almost affronted that the adults were talking about her as if she wasn’t there. Valdo smiles, guiding her hand away and wiping away her drool.
Jaskier turns his head to look at them from the passenger seat, Geralt glancing from the rear view mirror. “She’s alright,” Valdo says, the feisty little thing fussing and demanding attention. They’d been caught in traffic for nearly an hour now, barely inching forward. He’s sure Geralt’s fingernails are bitten raw at this point, and Jaskier’s knee hasn’t stopped bobbing for a long while.
“You’re so cute,” Jaskier coos, reaching back to tickle her tummy, “And you know it, huh?” They’re all wrapped around their daughter’s finger far too tightly, the little thing babbling away in response. Valdo bounces her on his knee as they sit, and she squeals, delighted.
The radio flickers away from plastic pop and sirens into an emergency broadcast. Stay indoors and away from public places. Do not attempt travel. They’ve been droning on about it for hours, and Valdo worries, stomach sinking.
“Fuck,” Geralt grunts, leaning forward and peering at something through the windshield. “What the fuck’s— Shit. Seatbelts off, we’ve gotta go.”
People run past their car, and Valdo spots someone falling, and someone else sinking their teeth into the man’s neck— this can’t be happening. “Seatbelts off!” Geralt roars, reaching over Jaskier to unbuckle him and open his door.
Jaskier walks out, grabbing Ciri’s diaper bag; Geralt opens the backseat door, taking Ciri out of Valdo’s hands as he shouts commands.
“Run!” They’re getting closer. Valdo feels horror settle deeply in his chest— they’re something, something rotting and fleshy and dead. Jaskier’s asking question after question in nervous babble, and Geralt hands Ciri to him before slamming the door to their car. “Run!” He yells again, and Valdo runs, behind Jaskier and in front of Geralt, amongst the large crowd.
He doesn’t know where they’re going— Ciri garbles something questioning, eyebrows drawing in concern. “We’re okay, baby,” he whispers to her, holding her firm against his shoulder, “We’re gonna be okay.” Ciri clutches at his shirt as they run.
“Fuck!” Jaskier screams in front of him— Valdo cries out as one of the creatures reaches for his husband, only for Jaskier to punch it squarely in the face. Valdo can hear his sobs as Geralt yells at him to keep going. The creature’s face is punched in as passes, and he’s sure Jaskier’s knuckles are likely bleeding.
They’d been headed for Vesemir’s remote cabin in Brokilon forest after having heard of the creatures. Apparently, everyone had had the same idea and now they’re trapped, surrounded by people who’ll turn, who’ll kill— “Valdo! Up here, darling, come on,” Jaskir takes Ciri from him as Valdo hops over the divisor between the highways, Geralt following. The road’s clearer here, more space to run— but it also means that there’s more space for those creatures to chase. Ciri whimpers as Geralt takes her, running ahead of them with determination. There’s a van up ahead, abandoned and empty, and the road’s clear enough to drive.
The creatures grow closer, hissing and screeching as they run. Valdo runs ahead of Geralt, sliding into the driver’s seat— Ciri’s eyes are wide as she stares at the things, and Valdo grimaces, hating that she’ll never forget this.
The van starts, and Valdo unlocks the doors. Jaskier sits in the backseat, Geralt sliding in beside him with Ciri in his lap. “Go— fuck, Valdo!” He slams the door shut just as one of the creatures reaches out for him, effectively having it slam against the door. He turns the wheels haphazardly, and speeds— Ciri’s still in shock, still quiet.
“Are you hurt?” Jaskier’s hand feels for his shoulder, down his arms as Valdo drives away from the chaos they’re still in the midst of. He feels tears threaten his eyes as he keeps his gaze resolutely forward.
“I’m okay,” he whispers, mouth dry. “How’s everyone else? Anyone bitten?” He refuses to let his mind wander back to how the man had writhed after he’d been bit, eyes going blank and mouth bloodthirsty.
“No,” Geralt says. Ciri’s begun wailing, and he holds her tightly to his chest. “We’re fine, she’s just scared.” Valdo hums. The road grows smooth sailing as they drive back the way they’d come from— he has no plan, but they certainly can’t go home. For now, they’re safe.