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He's on a supply run when it happens.
It's quick and he doesn't hear a thing until he's being grabbed by his shoulder.
He's had a lot of training and he knows what he's supposed to do. He's counted the bullets and he knows that not only one bullet is enough. He should have been ready with his gun raised, safety off, ready to shoot in sight.
What he did not know, however was that there are different types of the Infected. This in particular is faster than the average and not as loud as the ones he's seen. It throws him forward and craws over him, ripping his clothes.
JJ kicks, kicks and kicks. He tries to push himself up with his hands, only to end up rolling himself over with the Infected still groaning and reaching for his flesh. He can't stretch his arm enough to get his gun so he sticks to hand-to-hand combat. He knows that punching an Infected isn't that good of an idea so he elbows the Infected in the stomach. It screeches and lungs for his arm but JJ gets up. It makes him lose balance for a second but he takes advantage of it. He grabs a wooden plank from the ground and swings it at the Infected.
It gurgles and blood trickles from its mouth as JJ knocks it down. He wants to breathe but he doesn't have time.
He grabs his gun from the holster at his hip, turns the safety on and shoots. He shoots several times, he has to. The shots are loud and they make his ears ring. The Infected lays on the ground with two bullet holes in its head and two where its heart is supposed to be. JJ doesn't know if they have a heart, really. Biologically they should but he thinks that the fungi might take over the heart too.
He stands in place for about a minute before he realizes he's in pain. He rationally knows he's about to have more than one bruise tomorrow but it's not like he hasn't gotten used to that. It isn't a throbbing pain that he feels, though.
It's numb pain, tingling.
He doesn't look. He brings his hand to his right shoulder and when he brings it back to his line of vision, it's dripping blood.
"Fuck," He turns his head, slowly, scared.
It's there, just like he expected. His jacket, bloody with a rip on his shoulder. It's not big, just a small bite. But he knows that even a small bite at the QZ would be taken seriously. He knows he can't go back.
"Shit, oh fuck."
He doesn't think it's really hit him yet. But he knows he's utterly fucked. He's going to die.
"Don't move." A voice calls, unfamiliar one at that. He thinks of turning around and just getting shot for shits and giggles but he doesn't. "Who are you and what are you doing here?" JJ knows that the QZ wasn't sending any others to the supply run at a fucking old supermarket that's supposedly been cleared out already so he knows this isn't one of theirs.
"My name is JJ," he says, holding his hands up slowly in defense, "I'm out for a supply run."
There's a sound of rubble being trashed over the room and then footsteps. A boy - about 17 years old - is holding a pistol at him, it looks old but JJ doesn't want to judge this boy by his weaponry. Not yet, anyway.
"You were alone at a supply run?" He questions, observing JJ's belongings. He reaches for JJ's gun and grabs it. JJ nods and keeps his hands up. "Are you FEDRA?"
"Are you?"
The boy's dark eyes skim his face and he shakes his head. JJ nods again.
"I'm not FEDRA, just forced to work for 'em. Supplies." He throws his head back to motion at his backpack.
"Found anything you like?"
"Just you."
They're silent, then. JJ smiles and then grimaces as the pain on his shoulder hits him and he clutches at it with his hands. The boy jerks his gun at JJ and his eyes land on the bite.
"You're infected."
"No shit, Sherlock! Couldn't you see the dead fucking corpse behind you?" JJ hisses at the boy through his teeth. The counter gives him a good position to be in so he leans back. He presses his hand on the wound to keep pressure and then looks back at the boy. "You gonna shoot me or what?"
The boy doesn't make a move. His finger is on the trigger but there's no tension. He's just holding it.
"I'm not gonna shoot you."
JJ gapes at him, enraged. He pushes himself off the counter and walks up to the boy.
"What's your name?"
"Pope."
"Well, Pope," He begins, with a snarl when he says the boy's name. "as you can see, we're in the middle of a fucking apocalypse and I got bit. I have about two hours until I'm gonna turn into one of those things and you're not gonna fucking help me? Or help your group or whoever you're with?"
"I don't have anyone. Not anymore."
"Why are you willingly putting yourself in danger?" JJ asks with a scoff. "You could like, join the Fireflies or-"
"I was a Firefly." Raises his eyebrows and blinks. He waits for a second and then, he goes for his gun that Pope has in his left hand. It's loaded and he will get a bullet to his head in a way or another. Pope staggers away and throws the gun away.
A pitiful laugh escapes JJ's lips. "You wanna get yourself killed." Pope tilts his head back and shows the below of his neck. He's been bitten too. "Oh, I get it. You're already dead."
"I'm not." Pope lets his hoodie fall back to his skin. He looks up at JJ and smiles. "You're not."
"You're insane." He spits and turns around. There's no way this random boy just wants to hang out with him when they're both in the verge of death.
"Not yet." It's a joke, JJ kicks a chair and screams.
He screams until his lungs are sore and his throat hurts like Hell.
"I've got about 30 minutes give or take. You have another few hours."
JJ crosses his arms. "Lucky me."
Pope drops his bag on the floor and walks up to him. He holds out a new gun and hands it to JJ. It's much more shinier than the one Pope has in his own hand.
"It'll be quick."
"I know."
Pope looks at him once again and JJ doesn't feel like screaming at him anymore.
"Together?"
JJ leans closer and presses his forehead against Pope's.
"Together."