Love Bites ~ Craig of the Dead au ~ Tricia x Karen fan fiction [COMPLETE]

26

"What? Phillip?" I repeat, shocked.

"He's got a bad reputation around here. I wouldn't put it past him."

"So you're accusing him because of some dumb reputation? What happened to second chances?"

"Do you even know what he's done to our group?" Craig starts pacing again, "He's stolen food and supplies, assaulted people for no clear reason, slaughtered half of our chickens when all of us were sleeping... and those are only the ones I can think of off the top of my head. He's a fucking criminal. I knew I shouldn't have let him back in here.."

There's a knock at the door and Butters stands in the doorway, anxiously biting his lip. It appears that he's heard enough of our conversation to know that something is wrong.

"Is this a bad time?" He asks.

"No, it's fine," Craig lies, smiling to make Butters feel more welcome, "Do you need something?"

"We've got a problem with the wedding food. Someone has stolen all of it."

"All of it?" Craig repeats in shock.

Butters nods sadly.

Last night he was telling me how excited he was about this wedding, so seeing things go wrong must be really upsetting him.

"Tricia, go and search the messengers' quarters," Craig commands, "And go and question all of the messengers while you're at it. We need to know if you-know-who could've taken it all."

"B-but Kenny is in charge of messaging, are you allowed to-" Butters rubs his knuckles together anxiously.

"Butters, this is an important matter," My brother interrupts him, "I need you to gather the rest of the leaders and the deputies, and meet me at the top of the clock tower in half an hour. There's something I need to do."

Craig grabs a backpack from beside the sofa bed and swings it onto his back. Before he leaves, he turns back to me.

"Oh, and Trish, you're a deputy now. Don't be late to the meeting."

Then he leaves.

Butters looks over at me, a look of bewilderment covering his face, knuckles still rubbing against each other.

"I'd love to explain what's going on, but I've got a building to search and people to question. See you later." I give a weak, apologetic smile and push past him to leave the room.

Most of the church has now been cleaned and furniture has been set up. Everything is almost ready for the wedding.

Going as fast as my little legs will go, I head towards the messengers' quarters - a wide but short room that the group have clearly made themselves, which looks surprisingly sturdy considering the fact that professional builders didn't make it.

A few of the messengers are sat outside of the building on a log, chatting happily amongst one another, seeming completely unaware of the threat of the revolution approaching us slowly.

"Hi there," I get their attention, "I'm Tricia, Craig's sister, and I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions?"

"Sure," One guy shrugs, "What's up?"

"So I was wondering where you guys have been in the last hour or so."

The messengers exchange a confused look.

"Something has gone missing in the church and my brother just wants to know if anyone has seen it," I quickly lie, not wanting them to get suspicious and refuse to speak to me, "Have you guys seen it?"

"Nah, babes," One of the others, a tall, lanky guy who is at least twenty five, shakes his head, "We've been here all day. Our shift doesn't start for a while. You're welcome to hang out with us if you want."

He pats an empty spot next to him and a shudder runs down my spine. As politely as I can, I decline his offer and head inside. Much to my dismay, there's nobody inside other than Pecky, so I can't question anyone else.

Although, it does make searching the place easier since nobody can yell at me.

I decide to check the bedrooms first, making sure to look under each and every bed, inside every dresser or closet, behind piles of clothing, and under any loose floorboards. Nothing.

Next, I head for the bathroom, which they all unfortunately have to share, but there's still nothing.

As the only place left to check is the crappy lounge area, I head there. There's nothing under the stained sofa or the battered coffee table, nothing behind the crumbling bookshelf, and nothing under the loose floorboards.

Brushing some hair out of my eyes, I spot someone standing at the doorway.

"Did you do it?" I ask, "Did you steal my brother's food, Phillip?"

His mouth opens like he's about to say something, then closes again. Reaching behind him for the handle, he closes the door and slowly approaches me.

"Did you do it?" I repeat, "This is serious."

"It wasn't me," He finally replies, still inching closer and closer, "but it was because of me."

"What do you mean?"

Chuckling to himself, Phillip kneels down on the floor in front of me. A weird look has covered his face and his eyes are blank, emotionless.

"Do you know what your brother is really like, Tricia?" He asks, leaning forward slightly to whisper in my ear.

"He's my brother. Of course I know what he's like."

"But do you really? I mean, it's been five years," He points out, "People change. The apocalypse changes us."

"Shut up!" I shove him, "You're being weird."

As he regains his balance after being shoved, his shirt shifts slightly, revealing his left shoulder.

"Oh fuck!" I scramble to my feet and back away, staring at the large festering bite mark on his skin. That explains his strange behaviour, the emotionless look in his eye, "When did this happen?"

"When we were being held in the school," He replies, rising to his feet, "I thought of it as an opportunity rather than a death sentence, after all, I now have a way to stop the wedding and save everyone from your bastard of a brother."

"Shut the fuck up!"

Rage bubbling inside me, I swing my fist. Right before it makes contact, he grabs my wrist, twisting it at an unnatural angle. As I scream in pain, he pulls my exposed skin closer to his mouth, to his greying teeth. Red dust is sprinkled across his lips and chin.

By some stroke of luck, Firkle pokes their head around the door.

"Kenny, are you in here?" They call, right before they spot me, "Tricia, what's going on?"

"He's infected, you've gotta help me!"

"Oh shit!"

In a matter of seconds, Firkle is in the room and running towards Phillip to come to my rescue. With a strength I didn't know they had, they tackle my attacker to the ground, pinning his wrists down to stop him escaping, but Phillip puts up a fight, snarling and thrashing around to try and free himself.

However, there is no escaping Firkle's iron-tight grip so his efforts are futile.

"You think you've won," Phillip growls, "but you've merely won the battle. The war is ours."

Throwing his head back, Phillip lets out a blood curdling, heart stopping, ear splitting screech.