➳It turns out, spleenwort was not particularly good at stopping infections, but rather keeping them from happening at all. In Cassandra's case, the natural remedy was administered, by (y/n)'s estimate, around two days late.
That's it, a mere forty-eight hours and the outcome of her life would have been drastically different. She wouldn't have vomiting on the roadside as she was now, with 10k delicately holding her dark hair away.
(y/n) couldn't watch her friend suffer. It was one thing to volunteer to give her mercy, but another to watch death approach her in such a gruesome way. The girl had even taken to avoiding her at all costs.
Some might have said she was wasting precious time, but the girl thought she simply might be a coward.
On the brighter side of their gloomy existence, was the fact that Citizen Z had told them of another lab, closer to them in Colorado. If they had any luck, they might be able to get Cassandra a doctor in time, before the damage was really irreversible.
If it wasn't already, that is.
"How much gas we got left?" Warren asked Doc, who was standing nearby, not far from (y/n). She was trying to clean of her knives, to distract herself from the sickness sounds nearby.
"I dunno," Doc shrugged and (y/n) sighed.
"Half a tank," she shrugged "ish."
"Make it 150 miles?" Their leader asked again, to which (y/n) solemnly shook her head.
"If it's mostly downhill," Doc pointed out. Well, that was one way to look at things.
"We're running real low on ammo again, too," the girl informed, gesturing to her rifle, which leaned unused against the van's door.
With the negatives out of the way, the group could finally focus on their primary mission: get Murphy to this lab in Fort Collins. Surviving was their secondary focus. Always had been, for the past how ever many months it had been.
It felt like a lifetime. And, in the apocalypse, it essentially was. They were luckier, than most.
The girl thanked her lucky stars for this second chance to do something right, expressing gratitude almost daily. Even on the bad days. Especially on the bad days.
Which, as she'd soon discover, was what today was shaping out to be.
➳For once, Doc drove. Warren sat in the back with 10k, Cassandra, and (y/n) - who couldn't avoid her dying friend in such a small vehicle. Instead, she tried to disassociate as much as possible. Cassandra had Ten Thousand, after all.
They chatted on and off about what life might look like, after their mission was finally finished.
"How 'bout you, kid?" Doc asked the boy, who sat keeping watch over Cass "what do you got planned?" The dark-haired boy hesitated, flitting his eyes towards (y/n) for a moment. So quick, she might have guessed it wasn't real. But, that blush on his cheeks was authentic, that she knew for sure.
"Uh, I dunno," he stammered "I still got 6,998 to go. Might take a break, though, head up north somewhere cold. Zs don't fare well in the cold."
"Roberta?" Doc interrogated her next. Like most of them, she clearly hadn't planned out her future - having assumed she'd die before they ever saw the mission to save humanity fulfilled. And yet, here they were. At the home stretch.
"I don't know," the woman admitted "maybe follow the sun West. I've never been to California. How about you, Doc?" she asked him this time, but he was already prepared. (y/n) couldn't hold back a small smile.
"Maybe I'll buy a boat," he mused "sail around the world, find me an island where there isn't even a Z in their alphabet." Small chuckles arose from his friends, but (y/n) noticed with sorrow that no one had asked Cassandra.
But, she had to know by now she wasn't going to survive, didn't she?
"(y/n)?" 10k asked her, raising those dark brows of his. She exhaled, long and slow.
"No idea," she chuckled lightly "find somewhere quiet to finally finish my novel, I guess. Maybe start a garden, too." The boy smiled.
"Too bad gardens don't do well in the cold," he murmured, almost to himself. Warren raised her eyebrows.
"A shame, really," the girl offered, her chuckles gone - replaced by a bored stare.
Not long after, they approached a metal shop, like ones you might see on farmland within the Prairies, (y/n)'s home.
"Looks small," Doc commented, putting the vehicle in park. Dozens of Zs surrounded the place, but they stood stiffly in lines, as if they were waiting for something - or someone.
That begged the question: who, or what?
Warren stepped out of the vehicle, and cuffed Murphy - which sparked an outrage (y/n) was too numb to focus on. No, instead she stepped out of the vehicle, rifle with hardly any ammo at the ready.
Normally, 10k would do this, but he was much to preoccupied trying to keep Cass as comfortable as possible during her last days. A sweet notion, really.
In a moment of anger, Murphy strode away from the group, despite them calling after him. It seemed the zombies could feel the hate radiating off of him, and turned to bare their teeth at everyone.
"Oh, come on," (y/n) groaned, getting ready to snipe some of the first runners.
She was able to take out four, only four, goddamn zombies as Murphy - that asshole - strode right through like some post-apocalyptic Moses. Warren and Doc hopped hurriedly back into the van, slamming the doors shut.
(y/n) couldn't risk Zs getting to Cassandra. Or him, for that matter. So, she did the next best thing.
Leapt onto the roof, using the hood as leverage to gain the high ground. It was a calculated move. From this angle, she could slam her axe down into skulls without the risk of getting stuck, or resulting in her being bit.
Really, it wasn't all that bad. If only Murphy didn't look like such a smug jackass.
"Murphy!" she yelled, pulling her axe back from out of a rotting cranium. Her rifle lay on the roof beside her, useless without ammo now. Unless, she wanted to play I Spy. But, certainly not with the Zs. So, useless.
"Oh, you want my help?" he drawled, and finally walked himself over.
➳(y/n) had always loved hugs and physical touch, which was her love language. What she didn't love, however, was using this to literally save her life and the other's. The group shuffled toward the structure together, using Murphy's zombie psychic abilities and close proximity to keep from dying.
Ah, what a lovely day it was turning out to be.
"God, I hope no one sees us," Doc groaned, as they painstakingly wove their way through danger. One of the only things keeping (y/n) grounded in this moment was the rushed beating of her heart, and 10k's arm woven around her waist firmly.
(y/n) kept Cassandra steady, which was no easy feat. Warren quickly typed in the passcode, and they were inside an elevator within seconds, descending into the next chapter of their lives.
"You know before the apocalypse," Murphy drawled out in his annoying voice that (y/n) swore she heard in nightmares "i had the same effect on the ladies." The girl scoffed.
"Yeah? And did they want to vomit after being so close to you, like we all do?" She leaned against the wall, scrubbing a hand down her face.
"Don't say the word vomit," Cassandra pleaded, slumping onto 10k. He held true, like a champ. Or, Disney prince. Whatever you wanted to call him.
The elevator doors opened to reveal a grisly, very non-functional lab. Half its personnel were laying dead on the floor, and the rest were nowhere to be found. (y/n) saw a keycard and bent down to snag it off a corpse, before letting them into another room - this one the scene of a birthday, apparently.
"Happy damn birthday," Warren commented as they approached the dreadful scene. The dead party guests, having been shot in the head, sat around the table, still sporting those awful little party hats.
"Oh, that's just bad energy," (y/n) shuddered, gripping her axe tighter for comfort.
"Reminds me of my fiftieth," Doc spoke sarcastically. (y/n) wondered momentarily how old the man really was, but that thought was soon replaced by disgust, when Murphy snatched icing off the cake.
"What?" he asked everyone in disbelief "damn vaccine makes me crave sugar!" Doc chuckled, the sound somehow humorless.
"Well, if you start craving brains," he said "let me know." No kidding, Doc. The girl recalled that Warren had dibs, but she was next in line. And some days, it seemed tempting.
A few unwelcome and undead guests decided to crash their party, which both irritated and excited (y/n). Mixed feelings, she supposed. The girl pulled her four throwing knives from her boots, annoyed to find they were feeling pretty dull.
Still, they were better than nothing. 10k got set up to use his remaining ammo, and she crept forwards - putting all her trust in his skills to keep her safe.
"3,002," he counted, having taken one out. (y/n) saw a Z running towards them and she threw her knife with enough force to splatter brains onto the formerly-pristine walls. Doc shot another, and then it was 10k's turned.
He missed, which is highly unusual. Doc was quick to cheer him up, though.
"Remember that time in Missouri?" he asked the boy, and (y/n) smirked. Yes, she did "at the local Piggly Wiggly?" 10k nodded.
"Frozen food section." he answered back, and they got set up. (y/n) knelt by a pillar, ready to knock the Z off its ugly feet. Doc would hit it with the cake, and 10k would take it out.
Teamwork.
With the Zs dealt with, that left them more time to discover a cellphone, something foreign to (y/n) by now, that was going off somewhere on the premises. Doc read the text messages aloud, telling them the story of how the lab was overrun after some disease - probably HZN1 or whatever - contaminated the building.
It was so sad, reading this man's last words to his wife, who was probably dead by now - along with his kids. The girl cleared her throat of emotion as Murphy sat down to log onto a computer with Citizen Z's help.
"Password: Red Death," he recalled from memory, and punched it in. The man pulled up a video of monkeys, dated a year before the outbreak.
"Gross, animal testing," (y/n) grimaced after being reminded of one of humanity's less glamorous methods.
"Not surprising, though," Warren pointed out.
"Yeah, but what where they testing," Murphy muttered "these videos were a year before anybody was infected."
"Not to sound like a crazy person," (y/n) began "but have we not thought that maybe they knew all along? Maybe this was planned?"
"Well, that's cheerful," 10k mumbled, keeping Cass from falling over.
"Could be true, kid," Doc defended lightly.
The next video revealed Dr. Merch, interrogating a man about protocol. From what (y/n) could gather, she was trying to deduce how a viral contagion escaped the lab, and this man someone knew something that happened.
Whatever he knew, he was clearly frightened of her - and of the virus.
The girl didn't blame him, fear was a natural human emotion.
"Okay, who's for getting out of here right now?" Doc asked the group "show of hands." 10k and (y/n) rose their hands at the same time, giving each other The Look.
"Lesser of two evils," (y/n) commented, observing the number of hands raised. Murpyh wasn't having it, though.
"Nobody's going anywhere," he nearly growled "this isn't a goddamn democracy." No one dared to argue with him, not while they were so close to the doctor who could save the world, and them all.
So, they followed him.
➳The phone began ringing as they walked through the creepy halls, the site of so much trauma for everyone involved. Doc answered it, with a cheerful:
"Zombie Apocalypse, how may I direct your call?" He asked, and he told everyone it was Citizen Z, checking up on them all and giving them more instructions. (y/n) chewed her lip, looking down at Cassandra's leg - which was getting worse by the hour.
The woman cracked her eyelids open to survey the girl. "What are you looking at," she asked hoarsely, and (y/n) gulped.
"Your leg," she said vaguely "it's getting worse."
"I know," Cassandra smiled weakly.
"I got to it too late," (y/n) managed to say, her eyes burning alongside her heart.
"Not your fault," The woman told her, and reached to grab the girl's hand. Hers was trembling, held steady by (y/n)'s skilled ones. Oh, the irony.
"Naked?" Warren said, tone indicating she was clearly very annoyed. The group had shifted into the decontamination room, to get ready to enter the lab without getting blown to bits by the nukes.
"That's what he said," Doc explained, examining every surface. "And then we gotta put all our clothes and stuff in there to be decontaminated with some liquid nitrogen.
"What are we waiting for?" Murphy asked, already unbuttoning his shirt.
"For y'all to turn around," Warren responded, desperate for some sliver of privacy.
"And no peeking," (y/n) said sternly, before turning around to strip down. First, she took off all her weapons, removing them from boots and where they'd ben hidden within her clothes. Then, off came her boots and holster, followed by her clothes. One article by one, they piled up on the floor: her worn-out jeans, the black tank top, and her underwear and bra.
The group stood in a circle, so no one could see one another. Cassandra shivered against (y/n)'s bare skin as the girl held her up, back facing the men.
"Eyes up front, young man," Warren told Tommy - unimpressed.
"Sorry, sorry," he stuttered, and (y/n) shook her head. Idiot.
"Cassie, you okay?" The girl asked her friend, who was swaying precariously.
"I feel like I'm gonna pass out," she admitted tiredly.
"I got you," (y/n) whispered, kissing the top of her head. The girl didn't have the strength to avoid her friend anymore, not when these could be their final moments together.
After everyone clarified that they were ready, 10k walked forward to hit the button. Out of respect, (y/n) found herself squeezing her eyes shut so she couldn't see him. Of course, she'd seen him shirtless before, but this was different. Awkward, but necessary.
They all got their clothes back on, (y/n) giddy with relief, now that she wasn't feeling so vulnerable. She was pulling her tank top over her head, when she saw Tommy running to help Cassandra up.
"Shit," the girl cursed, rushing over.
"You're okay," 10k repeated to their dark-haired friend, whose injury was getting the best of her.
"I don't think I can go much further," the nearly-departed murmured - exhaustion quite obvious. Everyone looked at one another, worriedly.
"I've got her," 10k insisted, and at that moment (y/n) realized - he was the best of them. The one who most deserved to live. "I'll carry her if I have to." The girl put a hand on his broad shoulder, and he turned his eyes up to look at her.
"You're not alone. We can take turns, yeah?" he nodded gratefully, and picked their dying friend up into his arms.
They wound their way through the seemingly-endless halls, trying to find the doctor. Eventually, they stumbled upon something they wouldn't forget. A dark room, illuminated only by emergency lights, flashing cyclically. With a quick inspection, they came to realize this room was to quarantine some of the first people affected by the zombie virus.
"I sure hope God doesn't know about this," Doc sighed "cuz if he does..." his sentence trailed off, none of them wanting to think like that. Sure, (y/n) wasn't very religious, but she did believe that if any possible deity out there knew, they would weep tears at the horrors commited within.
Not long after their discovery of the inhumane "hospital", two vengeful Zs approached them, materializing out of the inky shadows.
"Murphy," the girl murmured nervously
"Go talk to them, do that thing you do," Doc pleaded, voice quaking gently. The man did as he was asked, but something happened then that the girl didn't understand. These Zs didn't listen to him, and instead actually got more upset the closer he got.
"Guys," he warned lowly "I don't think they like me!" That's when panic really set in. (y/n) jogged over to defend Cassandra with her axe held out at the ready. Another odd thing - normally Murphy refused to harm Zs, feeling a sort of kinship with them. But this time, he gave them mercy - and it was brutal.
(y/n) wouldn't admit it, but she was just a little impressed. Just a little. Because, he was still an asshole.
"Let's go find Doctor Merch," the man barked, and they were off again to look for ghosts.
➳ Finally, Cassandra begged them to stop - to simply find her a quiet place to lie down and wait for them to save her, or for the end to come quickly. With each step, (y/n) felt her heart breaking a little for her friend with each step that they took.
She chose a room, as comfortable as she could find. Tommy set the woman down with a heartbreaking gentleness, trying to keep her as calm as he possibly could until the inevitable.
"Stay here and rest," (y/n) murmured, bending down to touch foreheads gently with her friend. She closed her eyes, willing emotion not to show within their depths. "we'll come back for you." Cassandra gulped, and managed a small smile as (y/n) stepped away.
"I've been saving this since New York," Warren said, handing her the prized revolver and loading the bullet inside. "I want you to have it." The woman thanked her, and held the gun to her chest.
"Thank you, Warren," she groaned quietly. Doc stepped up next, and (y/n) moved to stand against the wall by Tommy, taking his hand in hers gently.
He recoiled, clenching his jaw as he stared at Cassandra. The girl blinked once, but brushed it off to enjoy the last minutes she had of her friend, before she fell victim to her wound.
What a terrible world, indeed.
"You hang in there, darlin'," Doc told her kindly, hugging her like a porcelain doll. "we'll get you some antibiotics and have you fixed up in no time." With that, he followed Warren out of the room and into the adjacent hall.
10k walked forward, slowly, clearly not wanting to waste any time with the wonderful lady they'd all grown to love. She whispered something in his ear, something she couldn't hear. The boy didn't respond, but instead strode out of the room.
"I can do it," Cassandra told (y/n), who lingered behind. The girl smiled sadly at her friend.
"I know," she cooed "I just didn't want you to be alone very long before it happens." Cassandra closed her eyes.
"Take care of them," she whispered, and the girl nodded, not trusting her voice to betray how upset she really was.
Because who was she, really, if not the one who helped the group to pick up the pieces? It was all she had known, for far too long.