2020

Chapter Thirty Six

"I'm not bi fuckin' polar, Marcy. Chill out." Floyd groaned and rolled his eyes.
"Maybe not, but you're definitely gay." Marcy said flatly, letting go of his shoulder and turned his body to look out past the motel's parking lot. "I am."
"..Useless fact from Marcy number seven hundred and thirty six." 
"Hey, hey. I'm just sayin'. Not that it matters anymore. I couldn't find a dude my age out here that'd want to be near an infected." Marcy grinned evilly, looking to Floyd. "Wait, yer a guy."
"Ooh, fuck no ya don't." Floyd uncomfortably pushed off of the railing and backed away, his arms out in front of him.
"Please? One little--" Marcy stepped closer to Floyd, laughing.
"No, dude. That's weird, I'm straight."
"Maybe I can turn ya gay. C'mon, one kiss."
"..I'm twenty, Marc." 
"So? Laws don't matter anymore. Ya could be sixty and I'd still try it. Yer my first and last kiss." He laughed and grabbed Floyd by his wrist, pulling him close. He pecked his lips and backed, laughing so hard he started to cry.
"MARCY YOU FUCKIN' WEIRDO!" Floyd wiped his mouth and spat at him, slapping Marcy across his face.
Marcy bobbed and wheezed at his reaction, stupidly smiling. "Oh my god that was great." He snorted loudly, wiping the grin off of his face as loud moaning approached the stairs, attracted by his laugh.
"..Ahh, shit." The brutes became climbing up the stairs, so Floyd wrapped a hand to the doorknob, running into the motel room. Marcy was nearly grabbed by sickly pale hand, ending up kicking it back, quickly locking the door, leaning against it. "KRISSTTYY." He yelled for his sister, Floyd doing the same.
"Shut your mouth, Jesus Christ." Kristy groaned, came out of the bathroom and grabbed her sword from her assigned bed, tossing Marcy his pistol. 
Floyd grabbed his kitchen knife and turned towards the door.
"Move." Kristy shouted to Marcy, glaring at him. "Unlock the door and back up, quickly. Three seconds. One," She muttered, keeping her focus on the door. 
Marcy reached for the locks, hovering a hand over them. "Two," 
"Three." Kristy signaled, Marcy fumbling with the locks, then backing up, aiming the gun. There were two more of the three headed monsters, attended with twenty singles.
Kristy stared at the biggest ones, yelling at Floyd to open the motel's windows. It would be a great plan, if the things weren't already in the room and the motel's window led somewhere but a thin ledge.