Night

worth it

"Well, nobody asked you." he growls.

Dan glares back and I tense, wanting to punch this guy whose fist is hovering near my best friend's face.

"If you ask me," Mark mutters, "this is how I see it: a pair of gay guys and a freak zombie friend nearly kill everyone within a two mile radius by attracting an entire town's worth of zombies. Instead of taking off, they conveniently converge right where the path leads to our camp, behind the farmhouse just looking, apparently, 'for supplies.' Supplies in a picked-clean, zombie-infested town."

He glances around like he's waiting to be countered but I bite my tongue, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

"Sound familiar?" He asks. "It's you guys. Why would anyone do that? You just so happened to be in the same location as our camp, surely it wasn't because you were leading all the zombies to our area so you could they could kill us and you could take our stuff. Not like that's something you've probably done before. Oldest trick in the book, and you seem like just the type. I'm sorry friend, but I call bullshit."

Dan's face blazes red at this, I have to lower my eyes. I can't even look at anyone right now. This is ridiculous. Not only is that whole idea completely false, every aspect of it has been blown completely out of proportion and he just made a massive assumption. I don't even want to think about it, and I don't blame Dan for ignoring it completely.

Dan does however lunge forward, his hands colliding with Mark's chest and forcing him to take a few steps back, looking positively livid.

"Mark," PJ warns, "drop it."

But a fight seems inevitable, because Dan looks about as ready to drop it as Mark does.

Dan's almost a full head taller than Mark but undoubtedly smaller otherwise; Mark is solidly built, muscles rippling in his arms and in his chest, and he's standing his ground with no trace of intimidation. Dan's oversized hoodie hangs on narrow shoulders, emphasizing his teenage boy frame like another demonstration of this contrast. He's standing confident and tense, but I can't help but notice how small he looks in comparison.

"No." Dan snaps, threatening danger in every syllable. "You're wrong. We don't want anything to do with you or your fucking camp. We wanted to get home and you went and pointed a gun at Phil's head. We don't need your permission to be in an abandoned town. You don't own this place."

I've never seen him like this, it's unsettling. Now that he's gotten started there's no stopping the words that pour impulsively out of his mouth, his fingers curling tightly into fists. PJ and Felix's glances flicker to Mark, looking prepared to restrain him if Dan doesn't shut up. They know Mark in the same way I know Dan, watching his body language.

"Is that why there's no other people around here?" Dan prods. "Did you kill them too, before even bothering to find out who they are? Who's next, gonna murder your friends when you don't get your way? You must not know how to handle yourself very well."

"You know what, forget it!" Mark shouts, yanking out his gun with eyes full of hate. He pulls it back in one lightning quick motion, directing the barrel directly between Dan's eyes before I can even think. My heart drops and I gasp in fear for him, not daring to move.

"Mark!" PJ shouts, attempting to push his arm down unsuccessfully as Marzia starts speed-talking, trying to calm him down as his shoulders heave up and down with an unreasonable volume of anger that has him visibly shaking.

"Go on then, shoot me!" Dan shouts, making me panic, wanting to dive in front of him, but I can't make a move, Mark's so tense a single movement could trigger him to shoot.