Somewhere in the distance, Janus sat around a kindling fire with Remus at his side. He leaned against a fallen log fiddling with their handheld radio, while the other man sprawled out on the forest floor, uncaring that it was further dirtying his clothes. It was typical, in all honesty, and both men were tired after a long day of traveling. Their efforts were beginning to feel more and more fruitless the longer they were unable to find shelter, not to mention getting service in the woods was practically impossible. It had been weeks now, and Janus felt as if he may well lose his mind if he had to spend much longer in this filth, even if his companion hardly seemed to mind. He set the radio aside in defeat and pulled his shawl closer, wrapping it further around his form to protect from the elements.
"You know, it could be raining like it was last week," Remus said as he observed the action, presumably to offer some sort of condolence for their poor circumstances.
"It could, I suppose," Janus agreed, allowing the fabric to fall aside enough for him to reach out and turn the contraption being used to cook the food they'd caught. He'd much prefer it didn't burn, after all.
"So relax already! You look so tense, there's probably more knots in your back than in shibari art."
Janus rolled his eyes, but couldn't stop himself from chuckling at the remark, "Not at all."
Remus shrugged in disbelief and pushed himself from the dirt, crawling up behind his friend to rub his back. He pressed his thumbs down firmly, turning them in circular motions to relive the points of stress in his muscles.
"What exactly are you doing?" Janus asked in confusion, and Remus simply laughed.
"Proving I was right. Can't you feel this tension? It has to be so uncomfortable, how high-strung are you?"
"I'm not high-strung," he argued, rolling his shoulders and batting Remus away.
"Ah yes, because the apocalypse is so blissful. Of course you couldn't be stressed." Remus laid back down, though this time he rested himself across the fallen tree, upside down with his back against the bark, joining Janus in basking in the fire. He extended his hands and held them near the flames, letting out a sigh of relief and wiggling his fingers at the warmth it provided. "But it's still only radio static?"
"Unfortunately. There's no way to get a signal with all these trees surrounding us. I've tried, and tried, it's useless until we get out of here."
"Hmmm…" he hummed and stretched his hands further, "we better not lose the broadcast all together. That would make all of this totally pointless."
"Don't be unreasonable, of course we won't lose track of it entirely. We'll continue following the directions until we reach the location it's describing."
"You mean North Windex or whatever?"
"South Wadnix," Janus corrected, "And yes, we should find it eventually. If we're on the right track, we'll be able to settle down at the FSA soon enough."
"If," Remus parroted, looking back to the fire. It seemed he had only taken that word from his friend's explanation.
Janus glanced towards him with a sigh, the man's brown hair a mess that stuck up in all directions as his head hung over the log. White strands were strewn about in the front, coming from a melanin-free patch on his scalp and that caused anything growing from it to lack pigment. Poliosis, Janus believed it was called, or at least that's what he'd been told. Hints of the condition could be seen in the man's other features as well, such as a cluster of white lashes over his left eye, making the green of his iris even more prominent, and even causing the occasional white hair in his moustache. Janus liked to tease that Remus was going to be left with all silver hair by the end of things. It was an amusing thought, and they teased one another frequently. He'd known that boy since childhood, after all, so such mocking was inevitable. It made the chaos of life feel more normal, even if their shared past wasn't all sunshine and rainbows, either. Yes, Janus had such luck as to know Remus since they were kids-- since way before he fell ill. But of course, that also meant bearing witness to said infection when it inevitably rolled around, and watching helplessly as it broke the boy's life apart. He hated to admit how much it broke his heart to lose a part of the Remus he once knew, but he hated even more when people acted as if he was gone entirely. Although different, the man was still alive, still there. Janus knew, because he'd stuck by his side the entire time.
He recalled this old pain as he turned back to the fire, black curls falling down over his dimly lit face. He let out a huff, running a hand across his cheek to feel the dry skin below his fingertips. He wanted to be done thinking about it, all of it, but his own afflictions prodded around in his mind as well. At least he could rattle those off without any of the confusion that came with trying to remember whatever the hell caused white hair to pop up randomly. Everyone had a feature they grew up hating, and for him, it was a birthmark. A port-wine stain that covered the left side of his face, patterning itself down his body, over his shoulder, and down his arm. He remembered the relentless bullying he used to receive for it, and how people called him such unclever, albeit still rather hurtful, names. He'd always been told by his family that he should consider himself lucky it never worsened-- lucky that it never became horribly swollen or disfiguring like it did for some. Janus figured that maybe, he was somewhat lucky for that after all, even if the mark did cause the affected area to be uncomfortably dry, and if its lack of treatment throughout his young life led to other issues. The worst of which, in his opinion, was most certainly the increased optical pressure from the mark's placement over his eye. That's called a glaucoma, they'd said, and although it only caused mild visual impairment back when he had access to medication, the end of the world allowed it to progress freely. Slowly but surely, he was left in his current state, practically fucking blind in one eye. Sure, it could make out the fact there was a light source in front of him, but nothing more. Janus could only thank his lucky stars that his other eye remained healthy, granting him mostly normal vision if not for the frustrating lack of depth perception.
"Hey, Dee?" Remus asked, crawling over the log and finally sitting down normally beside Janus, pulling the man from his thoughts in the process.
"Yes?"
"You're caught up in your own head again."
Janus shrugged, staying quiet with nothing to say. He pressed his teeth into his tongue, rolling the two halves around in his mouth. He'd gotten it split when he finished highschool, a body modification he enjoyed using to scare the people who called him a snake. Lying, curel, and stuck half way through shedding its skin, they'd say. He used to find their reactions hilarious when he took their insults and ran with them as if they were nothing.
Remus sighed and poked his friend's shoulder, "You know what I've been caught up about?"
"What is it?" Janus asked, "and I swear if you make another bondage joke I will-"
"Not that," he chuckled, "I mean, I wish, but not that. I've been thinking about Virgil."
Immediately, anxiety settled into the air, and Janus felt his form stiffen. Remus, however, went on nonetheless, rarely being one to bother reading the room. "What do you think the odds are that he's okay? I mean, I know realistically they can't be great, but I like to assume there's a chance, don't you?"
Janus turned to look at the other man, debating his words before speaking, "I don't know, Reem. We left him with the bag, helped him hide, it's always possible."
The brunet nodded and yawned, stretching out his arms and laying on Janus, "That's vague, I can see you're just trying to reassure me. I don't enjoy the image of those zombies tearing him apart either, but you could make your responses realistic. I hate when you baby me."
Janus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "One last request then, how about you just rest until dinner is done? You're obviously tired."
"Fine…" he mumbled, settling in and closing his eyes without dispute for once.
Janus watched as Remus fell asleep, how his buried tension faded away, and how his breathing evened out. Janus was tired too, but by now it was more of an emotional exhaustion than a physical one. The world in this day in age was draining, and what happened to Virgil still took its toll on him. He knew it always would, and he could still remember what happened as if it were yesterday...
Virgil had been doing rounds in the house they once used as a base, checking over every entrance to ensure they were properly barricaded. He always ran through the same steps like clockwork, the boy's anxiety getting the better of him unless he inspected any possible way an Infected could break in. Even on days they hadn't stepped foot out of the house, and therefore left their blockades in place the entire time, he would still check. Janus couldn't say he fully understood; such repetitive, paranoia fueled tasks never made sense to him, though he couldn't bring himself to complain. For not only did it keep them safer, but he'd already adapted to a lifetime of strange antics from Remus.
Janus sat cross-legged on the wooden floor of the house, Remus across from him as they attempted to play a game of cards. A lantern illuminated their space enough to make out the cards, though Janus still found himself squinting in order to make out the small numbers. He'd suggested they play Bullshit, as he knew just how great he'd been at a game based around bluffing the value of your cards, but his request was denied due to three players being required to play, and Vigril not being available due to his nightly obsession walk. That, and of course his lying habits, but those made trusting him during any game difficult.
"Have any 3s?" Janus asked tiredly, looking down at the red three of diamonds slotted in his hand.
Remus didn't respond, simply staring blankly at the deck on the ground.
Janus sighed and snapped his fingers, "Remus? Hello?"
He still received no answer, and began to recognise the look in the boy's eyes. Remus began to fall back, and Janus cursed before dropping his cards in order to reach his side fast enough. He allowed the man to fall into his lap before guiding him to lay down, muscles beginning to jerk as Janus shrugged off his jacket to put under Remus's head. The man was shaking and convulsing as Janus struggled to turn him into his side, knowing he could aspirate if he continued seizing on his back.
"Fuck, shit- Virgil! Get back here!"
He knew he'd need help when Remus came out of his seizure, his cognitive state afterwards was almost always delirious and forgetful, and he frequently tried to wander off into the dangerous hellscape that was the outside.
"I'm checking the doors!" he heard Virgil shout back, and Janus groaned in frustration.
"Now!"
Virgil ran back then, the obvious desperation causing him to abandon his routine and hurry back to his friends. He rushed to kneel beside the two, observing Remus and glaring slightly at Janus.
"You didn't have to yell so loud, they'll hear you out there."
Janus rolled his eyes, "Oh excuse me, not at all my intention. I needed help."
Virgil sighed, eyes shifting to look at Remus who had accidentally scattered the deck of cards by kicking it as his legs jolted. "Look, I'm sorry, I just haven't had the chance to check every entrance and I don't want them getting inside."
Janus nodded, somewhat understanding. But this was stressful, it always was. "I still wish he remembered the name of the medication that helped prevent these. I wouldn't even know what to begin looking for given the chance."
"I guess that would be too easy," Virgil said, clearly hoping the seizure would end soon. Janus knew he must have been counting down the seconds, afraid it may eventually surpass the five minute mark. They were supposed to seek emergency care under those circumstances, but such a thing was impossible now.
"What if we-"
A crashing bang resounded from the back of the house, and the two conscious men immediately tensed.
"They're at one of the doors, I didn't finish checking them all," Virgil rushed his words, hands beginning to shake.
"Virgil, settle down. I know I blocked them all when we got back earlier."
The man's anxiety was still obvious, and he rang a hand through the faded purple of his hair. He wanted to believe it, but was struggling, and although he stayed in place he couldn't help but stare towards the jarring noise that was only increasing.
Remus finally ceased shaking, slowly coming out of his seizure and beginning to come to his senses. His head lulled and his eyes darted around in confusion before he tried to push himself into a sitting position.
"Okay Remus, it's alright," said Janus, attempting to comfort the dazed man and lay him back down to recuperate. Virgil was doing his best to help even while suffering his own state of panic, and although it didn't make much of a difference, his efforts were appreciated.
The noises continued steadily before becoming louder in an instant, a splintering series of snaps followed immediately by a crash of the doors falling, making the very ground beneath them shake. A sea of gurgled groans flooded the home, and it was a sound Janus could never forget.
"They're inside!" yelled Virgil, jumping to his feet and helping Janus pull Remus into a standing position as well.
The man couldn't stay up alone, so Janus had to support him with one arm while tugging a gun from its holder with the other. Virgil rushed to the window to gauge the state of the front yard, and judging by his reaction, Janus could tell it wasn't good.
"Get upstairs!" he ordered, leaving no time to argue as he grabbed the two emergency bags from beside the front door and rushed everyone up. They all struggled to get Remus up the stairs, he was in such a dazed and alarmed state with his mind barely working, that he could hardly function.
A horde of the Infected began stumbling into the living room, and Virgil had to draw his own weapon in order to shoot down the faster ones that came too close.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
He pushed them forward and through the nearest door, slamming it shut after them. Janus stumbled into the room with Remus, leaving Virgil scrambling to lock the door and shove a nearby dresser in front. He was already panting, and Janus was doing all he could to keep his cool as Remus began to ask what was happening. The Infected could be heard staggering up the stairs, rushing and pushing one another out of the way in order to reach the door and thrash at it all over again. It was unclear how long it would hold-- ideally they would be able to wait it out until the creatures gave up, but that could take days, and they likely had closer to a few minutes.
"I can't- I can't believe you left the weakest set of doors in the house unbarricaded!" Virgil yelled.
The double doors out back, he'd opened them to haul things inside easier. Of course they'd be easy to bust down, could he seriously have forgotten to put things back? It was such an old house, they always had to block things up to keep them in order. Janus sat Remus down to let him rest, turning towards Virgil with fear in his eyes, "I didn't. I know I didn't!"
"This isn't the time to make shit up! We all could've died, Janus!"
"I know for a fact that I blocked it off. At least I think I did?? I could have sworn!"
Remus groaned and held his head, mumbling his first sensical sentence since his episode, "you two are louder than a grinder full of pigs… louder than the zombies…"
They both looked to the tired boy, forcing themselves to quiet down for his shake. Remus was right, for once, the Infected were trying harder than ever to get inside, and they still weren't in the clear.
Janus took a deep breath to regain his composure, "We should go out through the window, most likely we can sneak down from there."
Virgil was still shaking, but he nodded and looked towards Remus, "Yeah- yeah sure, I'll get it open, whatever…" He made his way to the window, sliding it open before cautiously popping out the screen, his breathing beginning to quicken as the noises increased in volume.
"You need to slow your breathing, mister..." Remus mumbled, attempting to stand on his own but still unable to without the support of Janus.
"I know, I know," he argued, gazing out the window to take note of the conditions. Most of the Infected were making their way towards the back of the house, slowly piling in and joining the others in trying to break down the final obstacle separating them from a live meal. There were much more in the area than usual, and it seemed as if the team's scavenging mission earlier had lured more of them over.
Virgil took a deep breath as instructed, shaking out his hands and turning to face his friends. "Let's give it a few minutes. That way Remus can recover enough to make it out safely, and the more of the Infected will have left the front where they can see us. We'll crawl along the roofing and climb down the side wall near the front, it's the furthest away from the back door they're going to."
"Sounds like a plan, Stan…" chuckled Remus, continuing to hold his head and laugh through this apparent discomfort.
Janus added his weight to the dresser blocking the door as it began to shake on its hinges, pressing against it as much as he could. The more damage the creatures noticed they were doing, the more enticed they would be to break their way in. That was the last thing they needed.
"I don't think we have much time here, Verge…" he said, looking between his two teammates, one of which was pacing and shaking his hands, the other only just standing on his own and trying to force himself into a state of alertness.
"Is Remus even in any condition to try and get across the roof?" Virgil asked, "He could fall like that and-"
"I'm right here," Remus cut in, "You can talk to me. I'm disoriented, not one of those walking corpses."
"I'm sorry, you're just struggling, and they're just so loud-"
"It's okay, everyone's fine," Janus tried, pressing his back harder against the dresser, "we're all okay, let's just get out the window now."
Virgil nodded quickly and grabbed Remus's hand, crawling out the window and assisting the other man to do the same. Even though he was coming to his senses, the anxious boy didn't want to take any risk of letting him fall. Virgil guided him to sit, and seeing they were safely outside, Janus took his chance to dash to the window and onto the roof, sliding the glass shut behind him for that little extra security. He joined the other two in sitting on the shingles, looking down at the Infected that scrambled towards their back door. Pale, boney, rotting bags of flesh that shouldn't be moving, let alone fighting like deranged animals who all wanted to reach their prey first. But, there they were.
Janus felt his stomach churn, and even he struggled to stifle a shaky breath. He looked towards their new destination-- the next step was to get to the front of the house and then down the side. They'd pulled off much harder, they could manage this too.
"Come on, let's get moving," he whispered, slowly scooting to the front with the others in tow. They eventually reached it, and all of the undead in sight had made their way behind the house. This was the only chance they had at escaping, and they all knew how important it was they didn't fuck it up.
"Okay…" Janus breathed, "Let's get down. I'll go first, then Remus, then you Virgil. That way we have someone at the bottom and the top in case he needs help."
Virgil nodded, and Remus rolled his eyes but agreed nonetheless. They allowed Janus to make his way down the side of the house first, scaling his way cautiously and doing everything in his power to keep a good hold on whatever he grabbed. His lack of depth perception made it harder than it should be, and he likely crept down slower than necessary, just in order to remain silent and balanced. He eventually reached the ground, his feet planting firmly against the dirt and finding stability again. Remus followed closely behind, beginning to make his way down once Janus was safely stood aside. He watched nervously as the man crawled down, but Remus eventually reached the bottom unharmed as well, giving Janus a pat on the back.
"Stop worrying already, I'm capable of getting to the ground just fine," he whispered, and Janus knew he was more than likely right. He seemed almost back to normal, and despite everything, the man could usually handle situations requiring physical activity without a problem. Thanks to the years of gymnastics his family put him through in hopes of regaining strength, Janus always figured.
Virgil dropped down the emergency bags, of which Janus caught and swung over his arm before waving the last man down from the roof. Virgil then began his trek after them, doing his best to follow the same path he knew to be stable and workable. His knuckles were white with how tightly clutched onto each ridge that met his hands, and his breath hitched when the drainage pipe he was using for support creaked loudly. He stopped dead like a deer in the headlights, a list of the worst possible outcomes instantly rushing through his mind.
"Virgil!" Janus whisper-yelled, "It creaked for all of us, it's okay, just try and get down!"
He inhaled shakily but nodded his head, slowly convincing himself to keep going. Virgil mumbled to himself fearfully, the pipe continuing to complain at his movements.
Crack.
He froze again, looking up to see it breaking away from the wall. He did his best to rush down, even through the flood of panic that had settled in his chest, but it snapped away before he could make it much further. Virgil went crashing to the ground, landing square on his ankle that gave way under his weight and snapped to the side. He slapped a hand over his own mouth to avoid making any noise, though he was distantly aware it wouldn't make much of a difference, for his falling alone had no doubt alerted the undead still outside. They could already be heard growing closer.
Janus hurried to his side, placing a hand on Virgil's shoulder and squeezing it for comfort, "Shhh, you're okay, you're fine. We're going to get out of this." He looked down at the boy's ankle, seeing it bent out of place through his jeans. At least he actually had a reason to lie for once.
"I'm gonna help you up now," he continued, "we'll have to hurry, but this still isn't impossible."
Virgil nodded as tears threatened his eyes, and Janus pulled him up. He could feel the force of his friend attempting to stand, pressing against him in a valiant effort to simply gain steady ground. The very thought of bearing weight on his freshly snapped ankle made Virgil flinch, but he knew hopping along wouldn't allow them to escape. Remus grabbed the bags from Janus and took the lead, ushering them forward as the Infected began coming around the back corner. They stumbled over the remains of the fence that had once offered an illusion of protection, and Janus quickly pulled Virgil along, the boy forcing himself to hobble forward. Each step was agonizing, and no matter how fast he tried to press on, the white hot pain shooting up his leg was slowing them down.
They barely made it down the street before Janus had to turn and shoot at the Infected, quickly left firing all of his remaining bullets until his gun clicked emptily. He cursed and returned the firearm to its holster, beginning to run again with Virgil struggling not to cry out from each step. Remus eventually led them into a cluster of trees, weaving through the woods in hopes of losing the creatures following them. It seemed to work momentarily, and they managed to buy themselves a few extra minutes thanks to the creatures low intellect.
Virgil pushed himself from Janus's grasp, leaning against a tree with his face scrunched up in pain, "St-stop, just stop. We can't get away like this."
Janus tried to put his arm around Virgil again, doing his best to support and drag him along. "Stop talking nonsense, we can get away fine, you just need to-"
He only pushed back again, "No, you two need to go. I can't- I can't run fast enough like this."
"We'll carry you," said Remus, but Virgil shook his head.
"There's… Fuck, there's no time, you need to leave."
"We aren't leaving you, Virgil! We'll- we'll climb one of these trees and wait it out!"
"You know we can't do that. Look at Remus, if he has another seizure up there he'd be dead. He'd fall right into the horde and it would be God awful. You know they won't leave for days if they see us all up there!"
"Virge-"
"Stop, now. This is- it's necessary, it's my decision. You're wasting time, you need to run."
They looked between each other guiltily before Janus narrowed his eyes. "No, you're at least going to try and wait it out in the tree. It's a chance."
"We don't have-"
"I wasn't asking," he demanded, "this is our decision too, come on."
Virgil couldn't bring himself to argue anymore. He knew he wouldn't win, and the chance of survival sounded too sweet. Both Janus and Remus helped Virgil into the nearby tree, and he did his best to climb his way to safety through the pain.
"Wait, take this before you go higher," Janus said, holding up one of the emergency bags.
"I can't, you need those more. I probably won't even make it ou-"
"Take the bag or I'm going to leave it here on the ground for those things to take. I will, and you know that I will."
Virgil debated it in his head, but as groans of the undead who'd found them again grew closer, he grabbed the bag and held it tight before crawling as high into the tree as he could manage. Janus dug his teeth into his lip in worry as he turned away from Virgil, grabbing onto Remus's hand and beginning to sprint away once more. They left the other man in the distance, hidden away in a tree with a freshly broken ankle and nothing but one bag of supplies to wait out an entire hoard of the Infected...
From that day onward, not even Janus was able to deceive himself into believing Virgil was safe. He always felt as if it was, "My fault..."
He said suddenly, snapping out of his daydream and back into the real world. The fire crackled and popped, sending little embers of flame into the crisp Autumn air. The scent of smoke ran through his nostrils, and the food cooking before him was crisping into a dark burn. Janus cursed and jumped forward to turn it, doing his best to salvage what little food they had.
It felt as if he ruined everything he touched. If he'd just paid more attention. If he'd not let himself space out. If he'd been more careful. If he only barricaded those fucking doors.
None of this would have happened.