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It was a simple plan— a very simple plan. Follow the I-95 highway at least vaguely, breaking off only in South Carolina to head inland to their destination in Atlanta, Georgia. It was imperative, Gray initially thought, to move as quickly as possible, to not linger in the big cities they inevitably had to cross. They were shell shocked in Greenfield, and gathered their courage there, but it was clear they got lucky; with people like Red coupled with hoards of walkers, they couldn’t afford to get stuck. So, Gray planned to move past this horrid phase of post-apocalyptic urban hiking ASAP, and get to the good bit.
Then they got to New York, and a very persistent horde chased them across the city limits, which were littered with bits of rusted barbed wire and sandbags. Gray found the first unlocked door he could.
“We didn’t go far enough around the city, did we,” Nick said, waving his arms frantically as Gray paced back and forth in front of the door of the convenience store they’d found themselves trapped in. “We’re stuck in here, we’re gonna be stuck in here—”
“We’re not going to be stuck,” Gray told Nick as he peered through a crack in the boarded up windows and cursed at the walkers outside. He was out of breath from running, and yet refused to sit still for more than a few moments. “They’ll pass us eventually, they will.”
“Okay...”
After a little while of waiting, Nick sat down, and Gray continued to pace around. He glanced at Nick every once in a while, but thought nothing of the way Nick kept checking his left lower leg. He would have, but the adrenaline was leaving him, and he was left with fatigue and aching muscles. He hadn’t been sleeping well— hadn’t really been sleeping at all.
And for that reason, Gray sat down and dozed off, half against his will. When he woke up, it was dark, and Nick was leaning against him, messing with the velcro on his shoes.
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
Nick looked up at him. “You seemed like you needed sleep.”
The groans and shuffling of feet outside were distant now, and Gray forced himself to stand. He scanned the outside surroundings and nodded. “Well,” he sighed, pulling a map out of his back pocket and unfolding it, “we should get going anyway, a few more miles and New York City will be behind us.”
Gray put on his backpack, and winced at the strain on his shoulders. Nick started to stand, but Gray picked him up instead, and held him close as he opened the door of the store. He stepped outside, and despite sore legs, he started to run.
——
A few days out of the city, Nick began to sniffle and cough. Gray noticed it quickly enough, experienced with the warning signs of sickness, and took Nick somewhere safe. He rummaged through his bag, and took out a pill pack of cold medicine.
Nick huffed and looked away. “I don't want—”
“Please, Nick, you’ve been sick so often, we need to tackle this early,” Gray said, kneeling to Nick’s level. He popped a pill out of the pack and fished a granola bar from his pocket. “This will knock anything out in a day. Come on. We can’t afford to slow down.”
“How long’s it been? Since Seaport?” Nick asked, and Gray took a deep breath.
“I don’t... I don’t know, bud. I lost track a long time ago.”
Nick eyed the pill in Gray’s palm; it was the last one in the pack, and most pharmacies were empty by now. He knew that much. “We’re running out of stuff,” he said. “It’s getting bad.”
Gray sighed again. Nick was right; they hadn’t had much time to regroup and load up on supplies, and they instead picked up scraps as they went. Gray had missed several meals. “Please take it,” he whispered, voice catching at the end. “We just need to get there.”
Nick did, and Gray stood up, dragging a hand down his face.
“We will get there,” he said, more to himself than to Nick.
——
“Gray, my leg’s hurting, can you carry me?”
Gray picked Nick up without a word, and noticed immediately that he was warm, but shaking slightly. Gray nearly cursed, but figured he shouldn’t; he took a moment to feel Nick’s forehead instead. He frowned. “You have a fever, buddy,” he said, and Nick buried his head in Gray’s shoulder. “I know— I know. You’ll be fine, I’ll carry you. Damn, you seemed alright the past few days after taking the pill... just... damn. Is your leg cramping again?”
Nick hesitated. “Yeah,” he said, after a short period of silent walking.
Gray hummed, and took note of the hesitation. “Fever’s probably making you achy.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Y’know,” Gray adjusted Nick, and quickened his pace, “I went to the CDC once. At the beginning. It was a briefing. About how... y’know... the virus acts, and all that. The stages, what they looked like.”
Nick said nothing, but Gray had a feeling he’d caught the kid’s attention. “It was big,” he continued, trying to pull something interesting from the blur of uniforms and briefings. “There... were a lot of scientists, right, and I didn’t really understand what they were saying— but I got the gist, at least. One of them, the one who talked the most, he seemed...”
Nick raised his head as Gray trailed off. “Anyway. It looked all futuristic, y’know, like this crazy command center, a lot of great minds saying big words and all that. And very safe, very safe. But I wasn’t there for long.”
“Gray—” A groan cut Nick off, and Gray’s walk turned to a jog.
“Another time,” he whispered, and Nick held onto him as he ran quietly down an empty street.
——
Nick didn’t get better, only worse, and after a few more days, it had become the longest amount of time he’d been sick without improving at all. Gray pressed on, hoping to find some sort of settlement or at least a pharmacy that hadn’t been picked clean, but it soon became clear to him that settlements were few and far between, and any store along a major highway or big city would be void of product, after a worldwide agreement that it was every man for himself.
He was tired, sore, and hungry. He felt like he wasn’t thinking clearly; he wasn’t even certain he knew exactly where they were.
“I’m sorry,” he said one night, locked in a small apartment room. He and Nick were huddled close on a shitty mattress. Nick felt much too warm for the bitter cold, and Gray was having a lot of trouble holding back tears. “I said that I would never let anything happen to you. I’m... I don’t know what to do.”
Nick was hugging Gray’s stuffed wolf. “Gray, can— can you talk about that scientist?” he asked, and Gray went quiet. Nick’s voice sounded quiet and groggy. “I think you should remember him. For when we see him again, you can introduce me.”
“He—” Gray couldn’t help but smile, “he wouldn’t remember me. He seemed, well, I don’t know, it must’ve been hard for scientists, then. And he was young, very young compared to the others we saw... my age. Anyway, he seemed distracted. Like... like he’d memorized his speech and all, but wasn’t really conscious that he was saying it. There was something else on his mind.”
“Maybe he was really really stressed out,” Nick whispered, and Gray nodded.
“He probably was, but there was something... I can’t remember— or— put my finger on it. But something was off with him that wasn’t off with the others, it’s why I— well. Part of why I noticed him.”
“What was the other part?”
“Don’t worry about it, buddy.”
Nick sighed. “Well, maybe you can ask him about it,” he said. “And you don’t have to be sorry, either. So... stop talking like that. My sister said that giving up is for babies. And I know you’re not one of those.”
Gray scoffed, and held Nick close. “What would I do without you?” he chuckled, and Nick smiled weakly back.
——
Gray was able to fit in a few hours of rest, and woke up early the next morning. Nick was still asleep, and Gray let him for a while before shaking him gently awake. “Time to go,” he said. “I spotted a hospital last night when I took a look out the window. There’s gotta be something there.”
“Gray,” Nick said, shakily. He was pale in the morning light, and had one leg stuck out awkwardly. “My leg really hurts.”
“Same one?” Gray frowned, and Nick nodded, squeezing his eyes shut, as if bracing himself. Gray tilted his head, and rolled up Nick’s left pant leg. “I feel like aches wouldn’t be centered on one— oh, fuck.”
Gray pulled his hands away for a moment, only to hold Nick’s leg and tilt it slightly. “Jesus Christ, Nick,” he breathed.
It was a sizable wound, severely infected, on Nick’s lower leg. Gray’s breath caught. “Did— Nick, oh god, this is it. This is it, you’re— infected.” Gray shook his head, and his stomach dropped. “This isn’t— Nick. Is this a bite?”
“No!” Nick gasped. “It’s a— it’s a cut. New York, we were running through barbed wire, and it cut me.”
Gray put his head in his hands, relieved only to a degree. “Oh my god, Nick. You’ve got an infection, this is why you’re sick, why the cold medicine didn’t work— you need antibiotics,” he rambled, standing up and rummaging through his bag. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t want stitches,” Nick admitted, tearing up. “I didn’t think it would make me sick.”
Gray dropped his bag, suddenly aware that he’d raised his voice. “No— I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell, it’s not your fault, it’s...” he took in a shaky breath, “it’s mine, it’s my fault, I didn’t notice. How did I not...” He ran a hand down his face and took a few labored breaths, before shaking his head and pulling himself together. “We can take care of this, it— well it looks pretty gnarly, but we can take care of this. We’ll go to the hospital,” he stammered, hands shaky.
“I’m sorry,” Nick said again, and Gray shook his head and knelt down by the bed.
“It’s okay. It’s really scary out here, I know that.” Gray cupped Nick’s head with his hands. “Please, though, I’m begging. Tell me if this ever happens again.”
Nick nodded, and Gray wiped away his tears. “You’ll be okay. We know what to do now,” Gray reassured. “Let’s get some food in you, and we’ll go. It’ll be okay.”
“It’ll be okay,” Nick repeated, but the uncertainty in his voice made Gray wince when he turned away.
——
It was a short walk to the hospital, and yet Nick was dozing off by the time they got there. His breathing was labored, too, and Gray held in a worried breath. The guilt was making his stomach churn, so much so that he could hardly eat half of a granola bar. How could he not notice?
The hospital seemed surprisingly untouched, aside from the usual toppled sandbags and barbed wire. Gray was especially careful in navigating around the taller barricades, where barbed wire stuck out at Nick’s level. It was quiet, eerily so. The entire block seemed to be nearly entirely blocked off from the rest of the town; a slightly safer... post-apocalyptic hospital than usual.
The front door, glass with a metal handlebar, was open, and Gray shut it quietly behind him after entering. He scanned the immediate area, and found no one. He crept a bit further inside, Nick still asleep in his arms, and noticed one of the doors was cracked open. And in big, blue letters on a plaque on the door, read, “STORAGE.”
Gray let out a breath, and walked, then jogged over, pushing the door open all the way and encountering, to his shock, stocked shelves. He looked closer at the aisles, and walked hurriedly past masks, scalpels, and empty vials. He pushed a forgotten crash cart aside with his foot and, more frantic by the second, rummaged through the boxes in a last ditch attempt to find any kind of antibiotic.
Nick stirred awake, and glanced around tiredly. “Gray,” he whispered, but Gray was mumbling to himself and throwing aside plastic containers filled with masks. He had begun to tear up.
“There has to be something here,” he said, voice cracking. “This is my fault, I—”
“If you’re looking for medicine, it won't be in this room.”
Gray’s eyes widened at the unfamiliar voice. He moved his free hand towards the gun on his belt, and with his other arm he held Nick closer to him.
“No need for that, now...” the voice said. It was quiet, and monotone. Gray turned, slowly, to see a man standing in the doorway. He was older, with graying hair, slicked back and surprisingly neat. He was wearing a lab coat, gloves, and a mask, and he seemed to be unarmed. Gray shuddered unconsciously; the man reminded him of the beginning of the end, of scientists speaking in faux calm tones at press conferences, telling everyone not to panic, that everything would be under control. Bullshit, it was.
Gray processed the man’s appearance and shook off the bad feeling. “Are you a doctor?” he asked, and the man tilted his head.
“Yes. You’ve got a sick kid.” He touched his fingertips together and took a slow step forward. Gray’s hand was still hovering over his gun. “What are you looking for?”
Gray opened his mouth, but Nick interrupted. “Antibiotics,” he said, and the doctor raised his eyebrows.
“I have antibiotics,” he said, eyeing Gray’s hand. Gray noticed, and slowly shifted the hand from the gun to better support Nick. “Is there a source of this infection.”
“He’s got a big cut on his leg, I didn’t... notice it,” Gray admitted, and Nick looked away. “Can you help?”
“Possibly.” The doctor sighed, turned, and motioned for Gray to follow. “Doctor Ross. Pleasure to meet you.”
The doctor, Ross, walked out of the doorway, and Gray stood for a moment, dazed and wondering if the tone of that “pleasure” had been sarcastic or not, before he shook his head and followed.
Nick was half-asleep in his arms, but he sleepily watched the doctor as they climbed the stairs to the second floor of the hospital. Everything was sterile, seemingly untouched by the end of the world, and Gray nearly spoke to comment on the lack of barricades in the place. He decided against it; best not to irritate a man who seemed bothered enough already.
Ross pushed a curtain aside, revealing a neat, folded hospital bed. “Set him down,” he said, and Gray’s breath caught. Nick opened his eyes, and tugged nervously at Gray’s jacket.
Gray held Nick closer instead, unable to force back the slight tremble in his hands. He shuffled back a few half-steps and stammered uncertainly for a few seconds. “Can I— can’t I just—”
“Do you want me to help, or not?” Ross said, somehow simultaneously monotone and hostile. Gray sighed, and nodded, approaching the bed and setting Nick down. Nick held onto Gray’s arm and whined, and Gray shook his head.
“I’m right here, ‘kay?” Gray reassured, squeezing Nick’s hand. Ross sighed, and waved Gray away halfheartedly. Gray took a few steps back, and Ross gave him a look, and there was a brief understanding between them that Gray wasn’t going to budge any further. Ross turned to Nick, and easily found the haphazardly bandaged cut, unwrapping it and squinting at it for a moment.
He hummed.
“What is it,” Gray said, almost taking a step closer, but stopping himself. “It’s not... it’s definitely not... you know... Infected.”
Ross scoffed. “No, it’s not,” he replied. “It’s just an average... very bad infection. Can’t do stitches, you might seal up the bacteria. I can treat it as best I can now, but unless you plan on staying more than a day, which... I don’t think you do, you’ll have to handle the rest.”
“That’s fine,” Gray blurted out. He rubbed his arms uncomfortably and exchanged a glance with Nick as Ross turned to rummage through some medical supplies. Nick looked up at Gray, wide eyed and worried, and Gray had a thought. He held his backpack in front of him and dug out the stuffed wolf Nick had gifted him. “Here.”
Nick reached out for the wolf and held it close to his chest. “Can you...” Nick hesitated as Ross turned around with a syringe in hand. “Can you... talk about that scientist again? The one you’ll talk to, when we get to the CDC.”
Gray perked up a bit. “Oh, yeah,” he said, setting his bag at his feet and thinking for a moment. “Well... I wonder why he was giving that briefing. He was just... okay, I get that it must have been all hands on deck, but he was really young.”
Ross looked up at that, one gloved hand holding Nick’s leg in place. “Maybe an intern,” he said, and Gray shuddered again, and rubbed his arms. “You’re headed to the CDC. I wish you luck with that. It’s a long ways away.”
Gray nodded hesitantly, wishing Nick hadn’t given that away. “Yeah... we’ll make it. But— what is that?” Gray asked, stepping forward. Ross lifted the syringe.
“To numb the pain. It must hurt,” he said, but his voice was void of any concern or sympathy.
Nick’s eyes widened even more and he shuffled away, suddenly frantic. “Gray, I don’t,” he breathed, and Gray cursed. He went and embraced Nick, sitting on the edge of the bed and letting Nick hide in his arms.
“You’re going to make it—” Gray stopped short, and shook his head, “to, the CDC. But you need to feel better, and this, uh... nice doctor is going to fix your leg. And it’ll be a lot easier for him, you know, if you can’t feel it for a while, you...” he looked up to Ross, “you really don’t have anything else.”
“I don’t,” Ross said, and Nick whined again, still hiding his face. Gray took a deep breath.
“Nick, you’re so brave, you can do it,” he said, and Nick went quiet for a moment. Gray held his breath, and glanced to Ross, who only stared back.
Then Nick nodded. Gray shut his eyes for a moment, and sent Ross a look. Ross raised his eyebrows (with an air of annoyance), then held Nick’s leg still. Gray held Nick close and rubbed his shoulder. “You’re okay buddy. Just a pinch.”
And that was all it was. Nick whined, peering over slightly to look, only to hide his face again a moment after.
“I’ll leave you alone for a second,” Ross said, raising his hands as a sign of peace and walking to the other side of the room. Gray ruffled Nick’s hair.
“Good job buddy,” Gray said, and Nick huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.
“That hurt—” he paused to sniffle and cough, “a whole lot.”
“I’m sorry.”
Nick leaned against Gray. “The scientist,” Nick said. His voice was quiet and tired once again, the fear-driven burst of energy having left him already. “Do you have any ideas for why something seemed wrong with him?”
In truth, Gray had been thinking a lot about that exact question a lot since he first brought it up. Oddly, it had been helping him doze off, thinking of something, anything other than the apocalypse. “Well,” he began, searching for the right words, “like I said, he was young. Maybe he was tasked with too much work, but... burnout didn’t seem to be the only thing wrong with him. And, I realized something, looking back on it. I think I know how exactly he was off from the others... but not why.”
“How was he off?” Nick asked. Gray looked at his hand.
“He seemed... incredibly frightened,” Ross raised his head, and turned it slightly towards them, “shaken by something, and badly. But I wouldn’t know what.”
The two of them sat in solemn silence for a moment. Gray felt bad, like they shouldn’t be making theories about someone’s feelings, but it seemed to be the only thing keeping them both calm. Maybe Gray could apologize when they got to the CDC, if the scientist was even...
He didn’t want to think about it.
“He can watch Scooby Doo with us,” Nick whispered, and Gray smiled weakly at him.
Ross walked back after a few minutes of listening to them talk; Gray was sure he could overhear, with the way he tilted his head or slowed his movements to make less noise. Gray didn’t think much of it other than a stranger listening in to an interesting conversation, but he spoke quieter nonetheless.
Ross had started to tend to Nick’s wound when he said, “You know, I worked at the CDC. Seems like... forever ago.”
“Really?” Nick asked, sitting up straight. He was no longer as shaky, or tense. “What did you do there?”
Ross hummed. “I don't think that either of you would understand it,” he said, and the two of them exchanged glances.
“But...” Nick shifted awkwardly, “well, did you work on the virus?”
“Zaxon,” Ross corrected, with a sudden and snappy change in tone that made Nick jump. “Yes. You could say I...”
He paused, to scoff. He had stopped working, and was looking beyond them, somewhere distant, smiling slightly. “I worked on Zaxon.”
“That’s so cool,” Nick said, fussing with the stuffed wolf in his hands. “Too bad you aren’t there now.”
“It’s a damn shame,” Ross droned, going back to his work. Gray gave Nick another side hug, and watched Ross with exhausted eyes.
——
Nick was asleep again when Ross was finished, and a bandage had been replaced over the wound. Gray was tired too, eyes drooping and body leaning towards the bed, tempted to lay down next to Nick and sleep as well.
It was dark. Ross lit a lantern and scribbled notes down on a piece of paper. “These are instructions, for further treatment,” he said, and he handed the note over to Gray. “I’ve also put a few antibiotics in a bag. You should be fine.”
Gray glanced at the note before putting it in the front pouch of his backpack, followed by the medicine. “I’d like to thank you, um, for taking care of him and his leg. I really did not have the resources, you’re a lifesaver,” he said, wincing at his own wordage right after. “Lifesaver” made it seem like— well...
Ross sighing snapped Gray out of it. “He wasn’t a particularly annoying child to treat. Now, are you going to go on your way? It’s... quite late,” he said, turning his head towards the window, from which Gray could hear distant groans and the shuffling of feet. “You’re welcome to stay the night. You seem tired.”
Gray’s breath hitched, but he wasn’t quite sure why. “Maybe...” he paused, and thought for a few moments. Nick was fairly energetic, but Gray figured that was all from anxiety, and he was actually sicker than he let on. Plus, Gray was tired, and stumbling around in the dark didn’t seem like the best idea...
“We’ll stay.”
Ross smiled at that, but there was something terribly wrong about it that Gray couldn’t place. Maybe he was just... tired. “A wise choice,” Ross said, and he stepped slowly away, sparing Gray one last glance before pulling the curtain shut and concealing their bed, lantern still glowing.
Gray brought his legs up onto the bed and laid down next to Nick, staring with heavy eyelids at the spot where Ross had just been. Gray listened to the doctor walking away, until the footsteps grew distant and left Gray’s earshot. Gray took a deep breath, but it came out shaky and uneven.
He covered his face with his hands and cursed. He couldn’t believe he missed an entire cut. He never considered the possibility that Nick would hide it... but how could he not? Nick saw Gray have to stitch himself up, though recently his hands had become too shaky for it. And Nick even said his leg hurt! Christ, Gray felt like an idiot. And after he said he was done making stupid mistakes.
He wondered if he was being too hard on himself. He was tired, after all. Maybe his plan wasn’t the best, maybe something had to change.
He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. Whatever he had to do, he would figure it out in the morning. He needed to sleep.
He turned to his side, wrapped an arm around Nick, and took another deep breath.
——
It was still dark when Gray awoke to the rustling of fabric, and a shadow obstructing the light of the lantern. He opened his eyes slowly, the will of sleep pushing them closed again a few times before he could blink himself awake.
Then, he glanced to an outstretched arm with a needle in hand, and grabbed the wrist tightly, inhaling sharply as he did. With his other hand, he reached for his gun. “Let go of him,” Gray said, sitting up slowly and pointing the handgun.
It was Ross, standing over them and obstructing the lantern almost entirely, except for a sliver that allowed him to see Nick’s arm clearly, which he was holding in place with the hand not holding the syringe. Nick was still asleep. For a moment, Ross stared at Gray blankly, and Gray stared back, applying further pressure to Ross’ wrist. Ross only raised his eyebrows.
“Let go,” Gray repeated, quiet but commanding. Ross did let go of Nick’s arm, and then let the syringe clatter to the floor. Gray watched it roll away.
“Hmm.” Ross glanced at it as well, before looking back to Gray. “So what now, Gray?”
Gray twisted Ross’ arm slightly, silent and in thought. “We’re going to leave here, and you’re not going to follow us. If I see you again I’m going to ensure I don’t see you a third time,” he said, and Ross smirked.
“Threats. A real father’s instinct,” Ross chuckled. “Be on your way then. Good luck.”
Gray breathed hard from his nose and let go of Ross’ wrist, quickly scooping Nick up into his arms and getting up, sure to grab the wolf plushie. He grabbed their bags and pushed the curtain aside, glancing over his shoulder only once as he walked out.
Ross was standing there, arms crossed over his chest, eerily calm. Gray turned back around, and quickened his walk to a run, through the polished room, down the cleared stairs, past the storage room, which happened to be the only door open on the entire first floor, and out the front door, which had no barricades blocking anyone from entering. Once he crossed the street, he turned and looked at the hospital, clean and strangely inviting, and realized how he was drawn to it like a moth to a flame.
“Gray?” Nick groaned, tugging on Gray’s jacket. “Where are we— is it nighttime?”
Gray shook himself out of it and looked around frantically for a moment. He was suddenly aware of how fast his heart was beating, and how labored his breathing was. “Yes— yes, sorry, I don’t know how much you heard.”
“You were just running,” Nick whined, rubbing his eyes. “What happened?”
“That man wasn’t a good person— he— we need to go. We need to find somewhere—” Gray stopped himself, and just started to run. Nick clung to him, hiding his face from his fears of the dark.
——
“I don’t know what happened—”
“He tried to hurt— he— I don’t know, okay, I don’t know,” Gray said, pacing back and forth and running his fingers through his hair. He turned to Nick. “Do you— do you feel alright?”
“Um, I mean, I feel sick, like usual,” Nick mumbled, and Gray sighed.
“Okay. I think you’re okay, I don’t think he was lying about the antibiotics, I’ve seen these before.” Gray stared at a container of pills, and gave himself a moment to breathe. He put his hands on his knees. “Oh my god,” he breathed, listening to the ringing in his own ears for a moment. “Oh my god.”
Nick brought his knees to his chest. He was sitting on the bed, in the first unlocked home they could find. “Gray?” he asked, voice shaky. “Gray, I’m scared too.”
Gray looked at Nick, and slowed his breathing. “Okay,” he said, climbing into bed next to Nick and giving him a big hug. Nick hugged him back. “God, you’re still warm.”
“I feel really yucky.”
“I’m sorry, bud... here,” Gray read the instructions on the pill bottle before opening it and shaking out an oblong capsule, “take this.”
Nick nodded and took the pill from Gray. Nick watched Gray for a little while, eyeing his fidgety hands and darting eyes. He turned when Gray glanced at him and acted as if he was getting ready to swallow the pill the entire time. Gray smiled as Nick reached haphazardly for a water bottle. His smile faded fast. He fell back on the bed and covered his face with his hands.
“I am so sorry,” he said, and Nick turned to look at him. “I really fucked it.”
Gray felt Nick lay down next to him. “Gray?”
“I should have known, the guy was weird from the get-go. The hospital doors were open, he was willing to give some strangers a medical evaluation... he had just what we needed. It was too good to be true, I— I bet he didn’t even work at the CDC,” Gray rambled, lifting his hands towards the ceiling in defeat. “He was so irritated by us, and there was just something about the tone of his voice... how did I not notice that?”
Gray wiped his eyes and blinked back tears. He was so tired of crying. He was so tired... oh. “I... I know,” he said, sighing. “I know how. I’m fucking exhausted. Sorry— sorry, for cursing. We’ve been moving almost nonstop, I haven’t been sleeping. I’m tired, really really tired, and when you’re tired, you get clumsy, you make more mistakes, I— I guess I was just so caught up in getting there.”
“I’m tired too,” Nick admitted, sitting up and bringing his knees to his chest. “It makes sense, what you’re saying.”
Gray groaned, only half-aware that he was probably sharing too much with the kid, and too out of it to moderate himself. “And you’ve been sick, this pace is making you sick, isn’t it?”
Nick nodded. “I think the apocalypse is making me sick but maybe that too,” he said, and Gray cracked a smile, very briefly. Nick smiled back.
“We have to change the plan,” Gray decided, nodding his head. “Move slower. Take breaks. We can hold out here until you get better, and then we’ll keep moving. And we’ll freaking sleep. Deal?”
Gray held out a hand, and Nick took it. “Deal.”
“Good. Speaking of sleep... we’ve had a long day.”
——
Gray hardly dreamt, but he did that night.
There was a scientist. Young, tall, terrified. He stood at a podium, and his hands were shaking. Definitely shaking. Gray was sitting too far to make out much detail in his face, but he noticed the scientist adjusted his glasses every few minutes, more out of a need to anxiously fidget than anything.
Gray bounced his foot anxiously. “Who are you?” he asked. “Why are you so scared?”
“The end of the world,” the scientist said.
“I don’t think that’s it.” Gray stood from his seat. “We’re going to get there.”
“I hope you do,” the scientist said.
Gray was jolted awake by the sound of a small horde passing by. He squeezed his eyes shut, and took a deep breath.