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Warm Up - 5

The rain hadn't stopped, nor the constant groaning. Many creatures of the living dead could not see past the setting fog. Nor could they. Of their original seven-man team, only three were left and one had been too exhausted from their hasty retreat. They found themselves a repurposed home; once abandoned in the initial outbreak, then occupied, and whether by bandits or zombies, have been abandoned again. But it found new tenants for the evening, or for how long the weather was harsh.

"Let's talk about what we have so far." One of them spoke lightly, almost cheerful, despite the harsh setbacks.

"Evan, stop." The other clutched her rifle tightly, contempt in her voice. "You can't just be up and at it all the time anymore. We lost Keith and Kate, and we might lose Robert too."

"Robert's just tired okay? We checked him for bite marks, nothing. And we've covered him under four jackets already. Needs to warm up a bit."

"He kept running out there, even if he was already exhausted. He ran for his literal life and I think that might cost him. His breathing is getting weaker each time I listen. Don't you hear it?"

"What if we just take off one jacket, or two, just to give him some breathing space?"

"That's not gonna fix him up. At least I don't think so. Can't believe we lost Jacob for him."

"Zee! You can't just say that. Rob could still be listening too."

"He's too tired to listen, and I don't know why you keep defending him. You two were just run-of-the-mill college idiots who got lucky getting into our group. But at least you slacking off playing video games made you a better spotter."

"Man.."

"And the only good thing Robert did was distract those cunts outside so we can get away safely, but ends up getting exhausted in the process and that we have to take care of him too."

"You could at least thank him for it."

"Fine. Thank you Robert, but also fuck you Robert."

"Jeez, Zee.."

"Sorry Evan but he needs to start pulling weight now that it's down to three of us."

"I know.."

"Besides alcoholism, what qualities does he have?"

"I think-"

"That way I can set myself up for disappointment when he actually tries to learn something."

"You're not being cooperative right now."

"I'm pissed, alright? We lost a doctor, a chef and his apprentice for a guy whose best quality thus far is being bait. And a bad one at that."

"I'm sorry, Rob."

"What are you apologizing to him for? He should be apologizing to us."

". . . so where are we on supplies?"

"Three days worth of rations at least. Five if we really squeeze it out. Once the rain's over there should be more fruit sprouting so, really, we'll be fine on food. Having to go through the zombies, not much."

"Yeah, got two mags left. Five bullets in reserve for, y'know, and one more shiv."

"I can make more. Found some curtains in the closet, and broken windows on the ground floor."

"Nice. How about heat?"

"Jerry's almost empty, like a vial's worth left. Got two matchboxes but the lighting strip on one of them is fucked. As for ammo, ten rounds total."

"Okay, we'll use our guns as spears then with the shivs you make."

"Good thinking Evan. How about meds?"

"Only painkillers and bandages; one's almost empty, and two of four are soaked."

"Only bandages and cough syrup on me. Thinking Robert's gonna need it."

"Please give him when he needs it, Zee."

"Alright, fine. But you give me a mag."

". . . . fuck it. Fine, here."

"Thank you."

The light had faded throughout their discussion, the rain still harsh but the groaning had gone. Their faces were painted in the dark-blue hue of the coming eve, and the scent of cooked meat filled the room. Evan and Zee likened to the creatures outside, silent and cold with fear. A gurgling noise, a vibrating creep had latched itself onto the ceiling below. It stopped moments after. A calm followed.

Robert started coughing.