|Tear You Apart
Author: Opt Out PM
He could never run fast enough, Could he? -Zombie/Human Yaoi, Ch 5/? Up-Rated: Fiction M - English - Horror/Romance - Chapters: 7 - Words: 12,337 - Reviews: 11 - Favs: 10 - Follows: 12 - Updated: 04-16-11 - Published: 01-03-11 - id: 2879094
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
First story uploaded, whoo!
Okay, Couple warnings for this story, It's got zombie yaoi (m/m romance) with the zombie actually being intelligent- shocker, no?- and my bad punctuation, as well as a bit of gore. Shouldn't be too bad. x) Quick note for all, rotters are old zombies that have entered high states of decay, freshies are those who've been newly bitten and turned with little to no severe decay.
Enjoy the first chapter,
The snow fell in heavy curtains onto the moist asphalt and the bits that melted ran along the edges of sewer grates in rivulets, disappearing into the darkness as quick as one could blink.
The rotters were the only ones out at this time, It was late enough for the freshies to realize that the snow would hinder their speed and the forming bits of ice were too slippery for any human to cross the lines safely, they'd slip and fall and break a bone.
And the freshies would feast then, swarm on the helpless body and eat their fill.
For now, it was simply a waiting game in the shadows until the next group of survivors decided to come along.
He ran as quick as his worn out chucks could carry him, eyes watering and mouth open wide as he took in deep breaths of crisp night air, he was shaking, and Cale Yates never shook.
Ethan Yates died two years ago, He got infected, he disappeared, Cale was forced to live without his older brother and that was something he could pretend to deal with- until the infection came to reach his apartment to take his friends, his neighbors, the people he barely knew away from him and it was scary.
But he refused to tell himself he was afraid.
Four rotters were following him now since he made way too much noise when he slipped on a fence in an attempt to get a few canned goods out of a dead survivors vest- heck, why did they have to die on top of a fence anyway?- but that was then, this was now, he could smell the decay from behind him, the moaning and hissing of putrid air coming from collapsing lungs and rotted gaping maws. Cale wished he could scream, wished he could just whip out a semi-auto and pop the bastards head's open like the zits they were- however, he had no gun and no weapons. Nothing could protect him but his legs could bring him to safety…If there was any safety left past the quarantine zone.
Of course, you needed serious money to get past the quarantine lines and into 'government regulated safety' areas, Because the infected could never get past the metal bars and the thick brick walls, now could they? But Cale wouldn't know what that was like, the safest he could get were past the rebel lines, hiding pathetically behind the hunters who came here of their own volition, the ones with the talent, the ones with the firearms and the ones who could outrun rotters in two foot deep snow.
He collapsed as his ankle gave out, meeting the slushy snow face-first and the pleasant darkness of the back of his eyelids granting him the last licks of peace before he blacked out completely.
Cale awoke to the sound of subtle moving, someone breathing quietly, shallowly so that it was almost relaxing, but what really got him was the delicious warmth of the bed he was in, was it a bed? Whatever it was it was soft and comfortable- the first time he'd felt this relaxed was back when he could afford the apartment with Ethan, the safety of his brother being with him and the reassurance that the virus wouldn't invade their safe little life.
It did when Ethan got infected though, so what was stopping it from infecting him while he lay in this strange bed? Shouldn't the rotters have eaten him by now?
He shot up straight and glanced around the room nervously, it was a hotel room, low tech with only a TV casting the muted news on in the corner. No lights were on, but he was indeed in a bed- the sheets had been cast haphazardly over him and he soon realized that his clothes had been tampered with as well, his tee-shirt still clung to his slender frame however, his pants were gone, his left leg bandaged up to the knee and reddened toward his ankle, no doubt with blood.
Cale could feel his heart beating hard in his chest, the rotters had to have gotten to him, was he dying? He didn't feel like he was….but his heart was telling him otherwise. And who was the sorry bastard that tried to help him? Didn't he realize something had to have happened to him? How did they get the rotters away? Was it a rebel hunter?
…Was it Ethan?
Cale quickly shifted down to check the wound, wincing as the bandages peeled off the tender exposed muscle of his calf.
It was bad, but it wasn't a bite by far. These were scratch wounds that had cut deep, no doubt a rotters nails that did it, but it wasn't beginning to swell with pus-blisters or become yellowed with infection, this was flesh trying to heal itself-uninfected human flesh.
The dark haired male let out a sigh of relief, pushing his fingers against his forehead to try and get some of his bangs out of his face to better see the wound, after a second the nausea became too much and he looked upwards around the room, trying to find something to distract him from the confusion and the pain and-
The door was open.
Pushing himself off the bed, Cale managed to get his good foot on the floor to stand shakily, but as soon as the slightest weight was transferred to his bad leg he felt himself slipping onto the cheap carpeting, his body curling in on itself protectively while he tried vainly to settle the hectic storm of thoughts and fears in his mind. Not like infected could get into this hotel through the door… not like the person who saved him wasn't just going to toss his ass to the freshies, or eat him itself….
Hot tears ran down his cheeks and he wanted to scream again, however the only sound that passed from his lips was a soft and weak moan followed by miserable silence….
The door shut.
Cale suddenly tightened on himself, his eyes sealed shut and breath hitched in his throat. The footsteps were approaching slowly now and stopped right along his back.
He braced himself for flooding pain, a boot to his head or ribs, a bullet, a hot mouth biting into the tender flesh of his shoulder and tearing it off to add to the searing feeling of his wounded leg, he'd die from blood loss anyway.
Warm hands found way under his arms to shift him into a sitting position, and he was leaned against the chest of a male- the same male who was breathing shallowly before, the one who saved him. For some reason there was relief, a calm that touched his shuddering body with warmth like the blanket had before.
"Etha-" Cale began, but was interrupted by a strange sound, like the whistle of air passing through teeth.
"My name isn't Ethan." The voice was hoarse, like it hadn't often been used and when it was, it was not generally for kind things. Cale could feel the relief vanish, the shiver returning up his limbs slowly along with the burning hot tears streaking his face again, but he still dared to turn his head and glance at the face of the man who saved him- the man who wasn't his brother.
The features were strangely soft, a younger man, maybe in his late twenties with pale green eyes that shone brilliantly in the lowlights, and feathery pale blonde hair that framed his face and dusted his cheeks. Nothing too uncanny until his gaze dropped to the rest of the males face.
White skin, far too white for a completely healthy human.
This inhumanity was reflected in his mouth, a full pink lower lip that was perfectly normal but his upper lip was gone, torn off, exposing gleaming ivory of exposed teeth and torn cherry red gums. The wound reached a half an inch across the left side of his mouth, revealing a sharp canine but no other wounds were blatantly visible on him.
He didn't seem infected, but he was. Cale didn't have the heart to scream or shove him away.
"Why did you save me?" He blurted suddenly, eyes locked in the pale ones his savior possessed, the man didn't bother to answer just yet and instead brushed the back of his hand across Cale's cheek, slowly getting those tears awa-
A rough smack got the man's hand away from him and the brunette pushed himself away onto the carpet again, away from the zombie.
"I said, Why did you save me?" This time, the man smiled at Cale, the smile looked strange on his mutilated mouth but never the less he could recognize the expression with ease and had to look away. He was tempted to repeat himself until he heard the familiar hissing sound of air passing through teeth.