Chapter Text
Jay Walker has always been afraid of most things. His “childish” fears never seemed to go away, no matter how old he got. Sure, he got better at coping or maybe hiding the fact that the dark made him feel suffocated and exposed at the same time, or how he has a habit to check under any bed he sleeps in. Big crowds bothered him but as time went on, he appreciated the big numbers especially when the population in his camp got smaller and smaller every year.
The walls kept everyone safe and Jay believed that. There wasn’t an ounce of doubt in him that ever made him think he was vulnerable for even a second. Strict routine must be followed and the curfew laws were hell especially when he reached his teen years. Cole Brookstone, his best friend, was reluctant to follow orders.
Six years inside. Six years of walking around the large man made ponds and forests that gave the illusion of freedom and a sense of stability. Jay never liked thinking about the outside because that’s where people die. That’s where people get bit and get sick or shot.
His parents helped build generators and repair vehicles. Maybe that’s why he got a less harsh punishment than Cole when they’d sneak off during the day. His parents were important assets to the camp, which gave him a higher status, while Cole was just an orphan. Cook duty was often a punishment they used towards the children who weren’t of age of leaving the walls. They spend countless breakfast, lunch, and dinners together in the hot kitchen making the same bland food. Fifteen they’d force you out unless you had a place inside. Luckily, Jay was good at mechanics, so he was safe. Cole on the other hand didn’t. As soon as his fifteenth birthday rolled around, he was sent off early in the morning before the sunrise. Jay didn’t leave the giant metal gate all day.
~
“Dude, you seriously need to stop acting like I went off to war,” the taller teen said while dropping a hefty dark green duffel bag onto the ground.
Cole’s dark hair was slicked back with either sweat or water and his face was covered in dirt. His normal clothes were swapped with baggy cargo pants and a dark gray shirt, which already ripped at the collar. His friend was only gone for twelve hours, but truly looked like he was in the trenches for days.
“But you basically did!” Jay cried out, wrapping his best friend in a hug. “There’s so many things out there that could kill you!”
Cole slowly blinked in response to Jay antics. “Are you done?” He calmly said while patiently tapping his foot. “Because I’m hungry and nothing sounds better than the bland crappy food here.”
Accepting defeat, Jay followed Cole to the mess hall. Sometimes he had to purge his worries. He can’t help but obsess over every bad income, which has made him quite the worrier, but who isn’t nowadays?
There wasn’t much to look forward to in the apocalypse, but sometimes the smallest things seemed to be the best treasures.
“I don’t want you to think I forgot, so here,” Jay said while handing Cole a cupcake with an unlit candle. “Happy birthday, Cole.”
Cole’s return was not promised. Anything could happen out there. One wrong move and Jay would be carving his best friend's name into a rock or tree or something to prove that he existed. The graveyard ended a year into the apocalypse. It took up too much room that could be used for farming, so they threw out the bodies instead.
Harshly blinking his eyes, Jay tried to purge the thought of Cole’s corpse rotting on the earth’s floor, maggots resting in his ribs and plants weaving itself through his bones. Jay’s imagination has always been vivid, but for once this was the harsh reality of things. Maybe he'll grow a pair and hop the walls and find the body and give him a proper burial. Cole has a shitty friend. Jay would never step foot outside these walls.
“It feels like yesterday we were celebrating my eleventh birthday,” Cole chuckled. “You snuck into the kitchen and stole like a handful of puddings and we ran into the forest.”
“Oh gods, we were cooked. What was it? Two weeks in the kitchen and stable duty?”
Cole nearly choked on his dinner. “Two weeks for you! I was stuck with the cows for a month because my parents aren’t damn engineers who are besties with the leads.”
Jay’s cheeks grew a bright shade of red. “Oh yeah, I forgot,” the boy awkwardly chuckled. “I think that was a pretty harsh punishment over pudding that was most likely expired.”
“Before I completely devour this, did you steal this? Cole asked while delicately peeling off the cupcake wrapper. “Because if I get blamed for this, I swear to FSM I will take you down with me. You know they keep track and I’m on my last warning. One more mess up and they’re kicking me out.”
There’s been countless times where Cole would be punished instead of Jay. Cole has been a notorious trouble maker since day one. Jay, who has never broken a rule in his life, decided to be friends with the kid who refused to get down from the tree because he didn’t want to do “dumb” field work. Ed and Edna grew weary over Jay’s new friend and said he was a bad influence, but they didn’t know Cole like he knew Cole.
“It’s a 100% legal cupcake,” Jay reassured.
The brown haired boy’s face lit up. Eagerly, Cole reached into his back pocket for an orange lighter. The burning wax was nostalgic and Jay was reminded of all of his past birthdays. Gathered around the table with his parents. Presents pushed to one corner (usually a new game or something to build).
Later that night Jay couldn’t sleep. Laying in his cot, he tossed and turned. His parents lay not too far from him along with a few others who worked close with the leaders of the camp. There was no doubt that he was one of the few privileged at the camp. He slept in a sturdy shelter instead of the tents where most of the residents lived. Cole said it only kept the wind out and during storms, water would get in.
Maybe that’s why Cole was so eager to leave?
No note. No goodbye.
Jay swears something died inside him that day like a piece of his soul shriveled up and went back up to the stars to never return. He was angry and hurt, the type of pain that makes you unable to cry.
He knew Cole hated the camp. He hated the food, the rules, routine, and especially the lack of freedom. Jay thought that maybe their friendship would’ve been enough for him to stay. A note would have sufficed..
Jay spent that time alone in the workshop with his parents. He loves machines. They were a puzzle that he always had the answer to. The complex machinery made him forget about everything to the point where it didn’t feel like the world ended. He was nine again helping his dad with the car and everything was okay.
His parents talked to him about attachment issues. Jay wouldn’t call himself clingy, but he is positive that he would go insane without any form of contact with a person for more than a day. When Cole left, he had his parents and the other workers. Nothing could keep him from being talkative. He has been threatened with duct tape multiple times, but talking relaxed him. Cole was a really good listener. Everyone in the workshop grew annoyed with the blabbering teen, but his parents knew how to handle him. Maybe the apocalypse wasn’t too bad. He had his parents and that’s more than what most people have. Jay was one of the lucky few.
~
When the outbreak happened it was scary, sure, but he was never alone. The junkyard where he grew up was miles outside the big city, so he only saw a glimpse of the world falling apart. When you’re ten, everything seems scary because you’re small and weak and you don’t understand most things. Seeing his parents feel fear for the first time is a feeling he never wants to endure ever again.
~
A year after Cole left, a fire broke out in the middle of the night, obliterating everything that he once called home. A man, covered in soot that Jay could only recognize as one of the workers from the shop, frantically shaking his shoulders told him to run. In a moment of crisis, Jay knew when to keep his mouth shut. Jay grabbed the bag under his cot, and bolted out the door, Running through thick smoke, unable to get a sense of direction, Jay couldn’t tell his right from his left. Flames danced around him, causing his skin to feel hot in what should’ve been a cool autumn night. Distant screaming, cries for help, and groaning. A pit grew in Jay’s stomach. The walls were no longer up. A hoard infiltrated the walls, obviously attracted to the giant light.
Running to the edge of the camp, Jay used the metal walls as a guide. He could see where the opening was and where dozens of rotting walking corpses were. They were fast but Jay was faster. Whether it was a blessing or curse, most of them ignored Jay’s quick feet due to the people either dead or dying on the ground. Devouring their insides, blood gushing out of their mouths, their soulless eyes fiending for more with an insatiable appetite.
Cool winds welcomed him and finally he could see clearly again without the ember burning his eyes. Jay doesn’t know how far he ran, but the fire was no longer noticeable behind the thick woods.
His parents told him to never go back to camp if anything happens, and his heart ached and wanted to rebel. His worst fear came true and suddenly he was alone. Did Cole feel like this? Was there a moment of regret or an urge to run back inside the walls? Jay wasn’t like Cole. Jay needed someone to reassure him. Cole was braver than he was. He never seemed to need anyone.
~
The rain mocks Jay. When the rain falls, it proves that the world will keep moving on even if a super virus wipes out most of humanity. His existence is merely a speck in the grand scheme of things.
Jay is convinced that the universe is out to get him, but sometimes he is granted one good thing: a shed that locks and has canned food and weapons. The place looked like it was evacuated in a hurry, so everything was left behind. A heap of dusty metal laid in the corner. Probably an old vacuum. Jay quickly opened a can of soup and sat on the sun bleached couch with layers of dust. The old yellow couch reminded Jay of his parents' sofa where he would sit on for hours playing video games as a kid. Many movie nights in his mothers’ arms; sick days lying in his fathers lap. A family probably sat on this couch and talked about their day. Laughter was shared on here and now it just collects dust while some sixteen year old boy sheds tears into a can of chicken noodle soup.
Jay feels his world ending once more for a second time.