Chapter Text
It wasn’t long before the sun began to set, jeopardizing Mikey’s safety more than he already had. It was stupid. A stupid mistake to run off the way he did, with only a few bullets left no less.
It had been a little over a year since outbreak day, at least according to Ray who had been tracking the grueling months. Mikey and Gerard had been making their way out of New Jersey by car the day the flesh-eating monsters had come to life, somewhere toward the south, as far away from New York as possible where it had been particularly bad according to the news. The two didn’t get very far of course, the highways were blocked, both by empty cars whose owners were being torn into pieces and whatever stupid government mandated blockades set in place. By some miracle, as the brothers decided to continue their journey on foot, they met Ray and Frank who had narrowly saved them from a small hoard coming their way. It felt a little unbelievable to Mikey that he had somehow survived a whole year with the same group that formed on day 1, probably because they weren’t very competent. It was even more unbelievable to Mikey that he somehow managed not to kill the group himself, considering the growing irritation and tension that was building up. Maybe one year was their maximum. Mikey wasn’t sure how much longer he could put up with Frank’s ineptitude, Ray’s pedantry, and Gerard’s… well, Gerard’s everything.
That day hadn’t been any different than the past week. The group had gotten into another disagreement, and by group disagreement it actually meant Mikey and Frank had started arguing and Gerard just had to take Frank’s side instead of his own brother’s, while Ray tried his best to stay out of it. Mikey was hurt to say the least. It didn’t make sense. How could Gerard immediately take the side of some guy they met a little over a year ago instead of his brother who he had known his whole life? Mikey had had enough. He was a grown man with a gun and mediocre survival instincts. He had every right to leave the camp. He could clear his head. Find some supplies. Except, by the time he realized how truly dangerous it was for him to storm off alone into the woods with nothing but a pistol and a small pocket knife, it had already started to get dark. Worst of all, he had no idea where the hell he was. It’s truly amazing how fast your surroundings become completely unrecognizable in a forest.
Mikey tried not to panic. Surely he couldn’t have made it that far. All he has to do is walk the same direction he came from. Right? He turned around and began making his way back, the gravity of the situation growing heavier in his chest. The forest was eerily quiet, not even a hint of noises of birds or typical woodland critters. His bubbling paranoia made it harder and harder for him to distinguish his own footsteps from those of possible attackers. It wasn’t just the zombies he was worried about. There was always the possibility of raiders and crazy maniacs that could do so much worse than eat your flesh out of an uncontrollable hunger.
A branch snapped somewhere behind him. Mikey froze. He didn’t turn right away, instead he counted his breaths, every muscle in his body coiling tight. The sound came again, softer this time. He spun, gun raised. His jaw clenched as he attempted to squint past the growing darkness. Nothing. Just trees and shadows. He swallowed and kept moving, faster now. The sky was dimming fast, blue bleeding into grey. Shapes between the trunks stretched and warped. His pulse roared in his ears. As he kept walking, the trees began to thin. The forest opened suddenly, spilling him into a wide clearing. The land dipped gently into a small field, overgrown with tall grass and wildflowers gone to seed. Scattered across it were a couple small houses, cottages, their windows dark, roofs sagging, doors hanging open like broken mouths. Mikey slowed, breath shuddering. A settlement. Or what used to be one.
He was definitely lost. The group would’ve found the area by then if it was anywhere near the camp. Regardless, the houses meant shelter and maybe supplies, he moved into the clearing toward the nearest building scanning the area with his gun still raised. He was exposed, but it also meant that he would be able to see danger from a good distance. Of course, it would only be useful with zombies as they can’t really yield a rifle and shoot Mikey from 100 yards away. Sure enough, as he got closer to the house he spotted a limping figure about 30 yards ahead between two cottages on the left side of the field. Then another. And then another stumbling in from the trees at the far end of the clearing. Three zombies. Manageable.
Mikey slowed his breathing and crouched, slipping into the tall grass as quietly as he could. The nearest one was maybe fifteen yards away now, its back turned, head lolling to one side. He slipped his pistol into the waistband of his jeans. A gunshot out here would light the whole place up like a dinner bell. The knife felt too small in his hand. He crept forward, each step careful, deliberate. The zombie dragged its foot in a slow, wet rhythm, unaware. When he was close enough, he lunged, grabbing the thing by the collar and yanking it backward. The blade went in under the jaw. The body jerked violently, fingers clawing at his arms, its mouth opening and closing in a soundless scream. Mikey held on, teeth clenched, forcing the knife deeper until the struggle finally stilled. He lowered it gently into the grass, heart pounding.
One down.
Mikey stood up, brushing the dirt off his knees. Movement came from behind suddenly, a decomposing hand clamped his shoulder pulling him backward. There was no time to react.
“Fuck!” he yelped subconsciously.
He stumbled, barely keeping his footing as the zombie crashed into him from behind. He twisted, slashing wildly with the knife, the blade grazing against the shoulder instead of finding the skull. The zombie shrieked and snapped at his face, its grip tightening. Another burst out from the tall grass, colliding with them both. He tried to bring the knife up again but the swift movement of the second zombie struck his wrist, sending the knife flying out of his hand somewhere into the grass. Shit. He was fucked. His panic surged as he tried to wrangle out of the zombies’ grips, whipping around to face them. As he gripped the shoulders of the first zombie, extending his arms to create as much space as possible, the second zombie behind up against the first pushed them to the ground, pinning Mikey underneath. He pushed up against nearly 400 lbs of the two zombies as far away as he could from his body, struggling underneath the weight. The zombie nearest on top of him growled, scratching his chest and his face.
Mikey’s vision blurred. He could feel his heart rate reaching its peak. This was it. He was going to die because of a petty argument.
Something whipped through the air.
Thunk.
The zombie on top of him jerked violently.
Thunk.
The second zombie slumped over, collapsing sideways, relieving Mikey of the weight.
He lay there for a moment, catching his breath as his vision came back to him. He pushed off the zombie that was sagged on top of him, lifting his head to see what the hell had happened. His eyes glanced over the arrows now stuck in the zombies’ heads before whipping his own toward the sound of footsteps. Mikey pushed the top half of his body upright, coming face to face with the man that was now hovering near him, looking down at him with an unreadable expression. Though the man was short, he appeared to be around Mikey’s age, part of his face covered by a long black side parted fringe and a cross-bow situated in his hands. The two of them studied each other for a moment, unsure of what to do next. The man awkwardly smiled before offering a hand to Mikey. Mikey stayed frozen, eyes flickering from the man's face to his extended hand then swiftly gripped it with his own. The man hoisted Mikey to his feet making it more abundantly clear that Mikey had a height advantage. He was now staring up at Mikey, eyes narrowing slightly before offering a wide smile.
His face then shifted as if he remembered something, taking a few cautious steps back, “Any bites?”
Mikey rapidly examined his body. He looked back up into the man’s eyes and shook his head.
The man let out a shaky breath in relief, “Good.” He smiled again as he made his way back closer to Mikey, “I’m Pete.”
Mikey lips tightened into a straight line. Either this guy was stupid and too trusting or he was going to somehow trick him and kill Mikey himself.
The man let out a small laugh upon recognizing Mikey’s expression, “Relax, why would I save you from the zombies if I was going to hurt you.”
Mikey’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t know,” he mumbled, “but thanks.” His eyes darted to the cross-bow.
The man nodded with a small smile still plastered to his face, “Your glasses are broken by the way.”
“Kind of hard to find a replacement these days,” Mikey grumbled, his hand mindlessly reaching up to his glasses.
Pete hummed as he scanned the area, his eyes darting back to Mikey, “Where’s your group? Your camp?”
Mikey’s shoulders tensed. His jaw clenched tighter as his eyes found the ground.
“C’mon, I know you have one. Or else I would hope you had a few more items than a knife and a shitty pistol on your person,” He pointed at the gun still holstered in Mikey’s waistband.
Mikey looked down at his gun and promptly slid his hands into his pockets, “I uhm,” he cleared his throat, “I kind of lost them.” He felt his ears burn in embarrassment.
Pete studied him a little longer, it was obvious he wasn’t going to push it. “Why don’t you come with me?”
“What?”
“Well you seemed pretty banged up and my camp ’s not far from here,” he shrugged, “and then when you get all fixed up we can help you find your group. We have a doctor.”
As soon as Pete mentioned this supposed doctor, Mikey became acutely aware of the stinging pains from his injuries.
“You're not gonna make it far searching in the dark alone, we can all search together during the day,” Pete continued, “you know, safety in numbers and all.”
Mikey stayed silent, staring at the man for a while. He was right, it was definitely safer for him to get some proper shelter, but the idea of going with some random guy to a camp he wasn’t even sure actually existed seemed extremely stupid.
“Dude, you owe me.” Pete smiled jokingly.
Well, what the hell, he had already made a stupid mistake today. What's the harm of one more?
“Okay.”