In The Glory [AU] || Alex

[Zephyr Israel Wallace]

|words;; 8U Idek || au universe;; zombies || Song used;; N/A || notes;; second attempt this :3 |

There was no time to be a hero. I'm not a hero. Not a hero.

He told himself. Over and over. It was what he wanted- no, needed to hear. His hands were shaking, and blood was splattered on his jacket- blood that wasn't his. This was the perfect moment to just curl up, and just.. forget those fast, few minutes of horror that he witnessed.

Twisted moans made him shiver.

Grappling hands made him flinch.

The sounds of munching, wet and sloppy, made him...

Ugh. He couldn't think about it. But like a horribly catchy song, it refused to be shaken off; flashes of people being tackled by other, bloodied people and watch as they sink their teeth in, tearing up their victims- that kept replaying in his mind over and over.

He kept his focus, kept moving- because, even for a second, if he pause or anything beside running might just kill him. He couldn't save that woman as one of those things grab her hair, pulling her to the ground to make a meal of her. Or that guy to his left, trying to beat two of them with an umbrella as he unwilling backed into the corner. Don't call him selfish- he was human. And right now- he needed to get out of this town before joining those things.

Ze paced himself.

The parking lot is right around the corner. Just... don't get distracted. Keep thoughts empty. Completely empty. He focused on the sounds of his footsteps against the pavement. His thoughts were running one-track. Really, he set up one goal- get out of town and/or head back to his hometown, the first place he could call safe. Maybe it wasn't so bad in the small townies? That everything was more under control compare to how quickly things went to shit in the city.

Ze slowed his pace- take in gasp of air... it wasn't so bad here. On campus, panic was all around and things were pretty bad; but surprisingly enough, the shambling... things weren't as numerous as they were here, east of it. But they were still here, hobbling and limping, groaning as Ze caught his breath. He took a moment to assess- at least he wasn't in immediate dangers. The... biters, lets call them that for now, weren't as fast and was quite a distance away. He was safe for now.

By chance, he seemed to stop in front of the cafe, a favorite hang-out of his. Or at least, was a favorite. Originally, it was his ex that shown him the place... and gah, love at first sight. Cake were amazing to say the least and the coffee were the perfect pick-me-up... but he was left with bitter memories and been since he popped by the place since the break up with his girlfriend.

For a fleeting thought, that employee... that went by the name Alex popped up. Maybe... he was alright? Though he wasn't close, the guy was decent and... maybepossiblycould've thought of him as cute? He continued on his way to the car parked around the corner, shaking his head. Eh, maybe Fiona was right- I was going gay for him now. He bitterly chuckled, turning the corner and---

"HELP ME."

The parking lot was disarray. Those things must all gathered here- there were groups hunched over a body; shrieks and cries, sobbing and...

God.

That wet chewing sound as teeth sinks in. A man, not too far, grasping for anything to get away from the monster on top of him- his eyes, wide and pleading were the last thing to haunt his memory as Ze turned away.

He turned on his heels, his back to the dying man not even five feet away. He couldn't watch- but as a selfish person, he wouldn't be a hero and try to help. The guy was a goner anyways, was thought he comforted himself with as he turn back around the corner.

Groans were coming from behind.

Moans in front of him.

Shit- he was trapped? His car was his only savoir- well, it was actually it was his friend's piece of junk and he only had the spare keys... maybe the thoughts of why the car hasn't up and left with his friend on board should worry him but damn- he ran almost 2 blocks to get to it. Questions later, saving his ass now.

He turned towards the cafe door, the only escape from this certain death. "Excuse me, anyone in here? Alex?" He pounded against the door, voice cracked as fear took hold of his throat and rattled him. "Open the door- please. I'm begging you. I'm going to die if you don't. " The hairs on the back of his neck stood.

Someone... anyone... God- help. Glancing to and fro as the biters drew close. He tried push the door open but... gah. Of course, it was locked. And he didn't have time to kick it down (if he even could).

Ah shit. Either karma was making him its bitch with revenge for the ignored... or maybe a person, an asshole, like him inside. "Please..." He murmured, jingling the lock final time before turning- was there enough time to escape?

[/size]

[alexander jay garcía torres]

"Keep your eyes on the door. And just don't let anything in, you hear, kid? But you should take this just in case. I'm going to try my luck at running Fiona down to the hospital but, if anything, we'll probably be right back... And, oh, Alex? Don't be an idiot."

That'd been yesterday at around lunchtime; they'd been preparing the café for the usual influx of customers that came in for a quick bite to eat - mostly college students and workers from the nearby block of offices - despite the rumours of some rabies-like illness downtown. Teenagers, right? They'd believe any drivel in order to have a topic to chat heatedly about inbetween bites of their croissant and coffee. The café owner, Patrick, was used to such farfetched shit being whispered about among his younger clientele whose imaginations were miles bigger than their stingy wallets. So he opened and, for a few hours, everyting had been going as it usually did for a weekday morning.

At least until his teenage daughter and the apple of his eye - Fiona - came staggering in clutching her arm and looking a pasty shade of petrified white. Alex just assumed that she having one hell of a hangover (again) and turned the other cheek with practised ease; he hated that cow. Last month she'd stolen money from the register and when Patrick - Alex's boss and landlord- counted the cash flow like he did at the end of every day he hadn't been at all shy to clip him one around the back of his head while accusing him of the small theft. A few days later though the teenager received a forced apology from the real culprit and a discount on next month's rent. It'd still left the college dropout with a bitter taste in his mouth though. He wasn't one to actively hold grudges but Alex made an exception for that spoilt brat.

Anyway, it'd taken Alex a good few seconds to realize that her low cut shirt wasn't really the deep, crimson shade it'd been stained. Out of the corner of his eye, he'd seen Patrick practically fly over the tabletops to his 'not-so-little-now' girl who clutched the door frame, holding herself up on her trembling, barely clothed legs. Her mouth'd fallen open in a pained groan, the blood starting to trickle down her hip and soak her grey pencil shirt. Not having time for anything to register, Alex stayed rooted to the spot, tightly holding the cutlery he'd been wrapping in pale peach napkins as he stared, transfixed, at the ruby beads that rolled down Fiona's porcelain white pins, fast and fluid, as her father attempted to staunch her mangled arm.

Between whimpers and wails, Fiona gurgled out what she knew. Apparently all those 'rumours' seemed to have some sort of foundation in an unclear truth. There was an illness. But no one knew anything about it: no radio or news programme was covering it although the police were running amok. Media blackout sprung to mind.

What happened next passed in a blur as the teen tried to dice and interiorize all this information, trying to convince himself in some way that it was truth. But how was he supposed to believe something that didn't even make sense?

He remembered passing Patrick a towel, being shouted to get a 'fucking move on' and dial the emergency services. Then he remembered passing Patrick nails as he frantically hammered plyboard against the windows and then in another instant being shoved a long, green fabric case that was rather heavy in his shock-weakened hands. That was when his boss patted his head and gave him orders before disappearing out of the reinforced door with his fading daughter carefully hauled onto his shoulder.

Then it occurred to Alex that he was suddenly very alone.

How long had he been alone for now? Since yesterday, that much was clear. With a quick glance at the clock mounted on the wall, Alex unnecessarily noted that it'd been seven minutes since he'd last checked the time. With every passing hour an unshakeable feeling was beginning to grow, gnawing at him and making his stomach churn with worry. They weren't going to come back were they? No, no, no. He couldn't think that. They were at the hospital, safe and sound, Fiona was being bandaged up and Patrick hadn't rang yet because there was no signal in the hospital. They were going to come back. At some point today.

The wait was more agonizing than the muffled sounds that were just on the other side of the door. The groans, the sound of shuffling feet and the odd pair of running ones had Alex on edge. He hadn't managed to sleep. Who could when you didn't know what creatures were creeping up out on the street? He needed to stay awake to open the door when Patrick came back. He needed to stay awake in case one of those things got in. He just needed to hold on an hour or so more - at least that was what he'd been telling himself all morning - but the clock kept ticking and the hours kept dragging by with the help of cans of caffeine from the café's fridge. Surely Patrick wouldn't mind?

But, god, his eyes were feeling heavy as lead in spite of the amount of energy drinks he'd drank. Alex's chin would dip down onto his chest or his cheek would touch his shoulder and he'd snap immediately awake; his eyes wide, alert, and then sleepy again in the same heartbeat...

* * *

BANG BANG BANG!

Shit! Shitshitshit! He'd dozed off!

Alex woke to the door being rattled and his heart thundering away at the speed of a locomotive train. The chair he'd been slumped on skittered behind him as he leapt to his feet, the wooden leg of another chair clutched in his paling knuckles. Patrick's hunting rifle would've perhaps been the more intimidating and effective weapon to wield if everything Fiona had said were true and the monsters outside were as flesh-hungry as she'd sworn. But Alex was seventeen. The only guns he knew how to use were the ones in Call of Duty and Halo.

There was someone at the door, pleading, begging, for entry. He wasn't sure if he'd been imagining his name being called or not but whoever it was didn't have the gruff, cigarette-burnt voice that Patrick had. It wasn't Patrick. His heart in his mouth, Alex stared at the door like a deer would stare into headlights. Anything could be on the other side of that door and it was more likely to be foe rather than friend. Alex flinched as the young man shouted and tried the locked door; even if he somehow managed to get past it there would be a large, chest fridge blocking the door. Judging by the panic in the stranger's voice, Alex didn't have long to reach a decision. Would he be the reckless have-a-go hero that'd open the barricaded door? Or would be be a yellow-bellied human that fended for their own interests and safety?

Maybe it was the adrenaline mixed with remenants of caffeine and his lack of sleep, but before Alex was able to second guess himself he was heaving the fridge out of the way, leaving the rifle bag unopened and useless where he'd been sat. He wasn't a hero; he was just a person with a strong empathetic bone in him. His cheeks going red as he pushed, the fridge budged for him with a chilling scrape of metal against polished tiles and he yanked the door partly open as he held his makeshift club firmly in his shaking hand. Don't be an idiot. Patrick's last word rang eerily clear in his head as beautiful sunlight poured through the ajare door. Could this be considered an idiotic thing for him to do?

Instantly, Alex spotted the man pleading for refuge and then... he saw what Fiona had been wailing about. Grotesque creatures that looked like they'd once been human. Theirs chins on their mottled faces were painted a colour of burgundy which Alex didn't doubt was blood. Their eyes were cold and lifeless, like windows to an abandoned house, but slurred noises still poured from their gaping and hungry maws. The stench was something the teen immediately picked up on too; it was the fetid aroma of beef left out in the humid sun for a few days. And then some.

Alex went on auto-pilot when one those creatures lurched clumsily forwards. In reflex, the table leg turned club was brought around and down in his right hand as the thing's grasping hands drew sickeningly too close for comfort. Alex didn't even know where this burst of courage came from but he didn't question it - it was down to adrenaline. Alex looked away in time as the crude weapon went down into its skull with a sound that made him taste bile in his mouth and small splatters of red peppered the front of his pastel blue shirt and his hand. The creature sagged and crumpled into a pile with the club embedded in its cracked skull from a nail that'd remained when Alex'd torn it from the chair. There was no time to wonder if it was dead or unconscious as the others were advancing all the while closer.

"G-Get in! Get in!" Alex urged with a stammer and a squeak, shoving at the other man desperately with his now filthy hands. Yes. Maybe this had been one of those idiot things Patrick had warned him against doing. "Fucks sake! Move y'self!"


words: 1646
ooc: aw shit cant believe i did this on my phone

[/size]

[Zephyr Israel Wallace]

|words;; 1005 || au universe;; zombies || Song used;; N/A || notes;; second attempt this :3 |

To be honest, everything didn't go to shit right away.

It started out as little snips and rumors from the streets- nothing more, nothing less. Things like Did you hear about Julius's freak out during lecture hall? I heard on from his girlfriend, it was some kind of... dunno, rabies? or Ya hear? That weird, new foreign girl right off the boat- yeah, yesterday, I saw her... and shit, I don't know who gave her the drugs but she ain't looking so bangable anymore; gossipy people, who had way too much time to concoct some crazy story to go along with the recent spread of rabies. And at the time, Ze didn't believe any of it. He didn't have the time- moping over a 'broken' heart was a full time job, and no amount of rewatching Little Rascals with a bags of unhealthy snacks could fill the void. But seemed like life didn't care if this trainwreck of a person had the time or not- when shit goes down, it goes down.

A normal morning. Classes didn't start until one, and though it was ten am, he was already contemplating on skipping class in favour of mindless Ps3 games until his roommate came back with lunch and/or his girlfriend in toll. It appeared a good deal- hell, for the pass few days, it became like second nature. Sure, he might get those disappointing looks from Mike, his roomie, but who cares about looks when you got tacos for lunch?

That wasn't the case for that morning. His phone rang- which it never did; everyone knew that before 12, Ze wouldn't pick up the phone, so it wasn't the best idea to try. But it rang, and rang, and rang.

Repeatedly- 5 times to be exact.

All from Mike.

And that where the horror started. First message- 9:12 am, usual time the annoying blond mate was in his physics class. Most of it rambling, something about 'teacher' and 'freak out' and 'picking up Tina, and heading start to the dorm'. Okay... weird. Second one, ten minutes later, and there was no voice- a butt dial maybe? Third came 20 minutes later, Mike's shaky voice said 'change of plans- meet me in the parking lot by the cafe--', followed by Tina's scream and hiss shouts. Last two came, first at 9:56 am and second just a little pass 10 o'clock- nothing was said, though he could make out the sounds of groans and... gasps.

Disturbing to say the least. He tried calling back- no answer. Texting, and a few minutes went by, no answer. Then the same with Tina- though Ze knew that the snobby, little brat had a dislike for him. Or pity him. Maybe a mix between the two? Either way, nothing but voicemail and texts that didn't get through.

...So he was getting scared now. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and open the curtains--

Looked like Hell came to visit earth. Smoke was coming from the distance, cars rushed by without heeding to traffic laws or caring who they hit. But to make things worse- the half the people that were batted away by the speeding cars that tore down the narrow, one-lane streets, most of the people got up... parts mangled, and....

"Oh god." He covered his mouth, trying to still the vomit that crawled its way up. This wasn't the time to throw up because of... okay, best not to think about it. Right now, only person that needed him was Mike- and if meeting him by the cafe was the only chance, so be it.

So he got ready. And hoping, as he did so, this wasn't a stupid hero's errand that he was risking for.

****

Y'know, death never seemed as close as it did at the moment. He seen what these... things can do, tearing up people as if a joke- no mercy, no remorse. Eyes that was bottomless pit, and probably the only thing on its mind: him. He was their next meal. Dying right here, in front of the snazzy cafe he hadn't visit in a couple of weeks, a block down from the parking lot his friend told him to go to, and... well, shit, he didn't think any last words .

Whoever was inside, if there was anyone, gladly signed his death certifica--

The sound of scraping, maybe metal, came from the other side of the door; praise anything and all things that was holy, saving his ass. Or maybe the guy who had a shred of humanity to let him in. Blues eyes briefly met with panicky, toffee colored ones- a brief surprise, not seeing gruff looking cafe owner... but relief was there, too. The contact didn't last long though, there was more important matter to attend to and not enough time to question. He moved to the side, letting Alex knock back one of those biters that were treading too close to be called comfortable. An eyebrow shot up, and his mouth agape a bit- hey, you haven't seen the guy; frankly, the brunette seemed far from anything threatening yet...

A bit dumbfounded, it took a moment to accessed what happen- but he didn't have a moment to spare. Limping, feet dragging the towards the two, those biters started to come as they gave unison of groan. "H-huh?" He stumbled into the door of the cafe- the empty cafe. Something wasn't right....

"Oh... fuck..." Ze huffed out, hands on knees as he caught up his breath and calmed his racing heart- it was surprise he didn't have a heart attack or something, with how fast it was beating. "Alex... God, thank you. I didn't think anyone was here... I thought..." He took another gulp of air, shutting his eyes, "I thought was going to get the chomps. Shit... thank you, man."

[/size]

[alexander jay garcía torres]

As soon as the both of them had scurried through the café's entrance, Alex rapidly whipped around to hastily yank the door closed, making the small bell that usually tinkled with a friendly tone the arrival of a customer rattle and clang with alarm. No sooner had the door been closed, scratching could be heard on the boarded up window as the creatures attempted to push their way past. The door, by the looks of it, was holding its own perfectly well but Alex scrambled around the chest fridge and pushed his chest against it with urgency. He was less tempted to take chances after seeing what he'd just saw.

"Don'tthankme... Anyonewould'vedone... that." Alex huffed out in breathless rushes as he heaved the fridge back against the door. Either his adrenaline was almost all burnt up or seeing those things had shocked the strength out of him but the fridge was feeling a mighty deal more heavier now. With red cheeks and his eyes tightly squeezed closed, the improvised barricade ceded and reluctantly moved across the tiles with another unsightly scraping noise. Think nails on chalkboard, but louder. Alex pushed it as far as it could go against the rattling door and took a weak step back to check his handiwork. It'd do.

With no time to rest and recover his breath, Alex hurried over to where he'd previously been sat and grabbed the canvas rifle bag. He might've just saved the guy but... well, like mentioned before: he was taking no chances. Patrick had specifically told him that nothing was to get by that door. Alex supposed that other people settled into that category too. The slim teen tugged the zipper open and pulled out the long firearm swiftly. It felt heavy and foreign in his shaking hands, too big and too dangerous for him to hold. But Alex settled it on his shoulder and slipped his blood-speckled hands under it, aiming it at the other kid.

This was the first proper look Alex had gotten at the guy he'd saved and, surprisingly, it was down the barrel of a rifle that he had no idea how to handle. Did this thing have a safety of some sort? Was it... even loaded? Probably not. Patrick didn't seem the type to keep his hunting rifle loaded at all times. But, whatever, maybe the other teen was like him and didn't have the foggiest idea about a rifle either and wouldn't be able to tell that, one, he was in no immediate danger and, two, that his rescuer was bluffing with the long gun.

Alex tightened his grip on the forestock and pursed his lips as he stared at the young man, not even sure what he was doing. But then there was a glimmer of recognition that softened his features for a brief moment. He... recognized this guy? The guy had to know him if he knew his name but where did he remember him from? The muzzle of the gun lowered slightly so he could study the other's face properly... and his thin eyebrows knitted together.

Fuck. Now he remembered. And the gently shaking muzzle of the rifle went back up, pointing at the not-so-strange stranger's face again.

"Hello, Zephyr. Ain't seen you in a while." Alex drawled with a bored tone. His caramel eyes then narrowed and he shifted the stock against his shoulder, getting a better and more comfortable on the rifle. "What the fuck is goin' on? Tell me. What the hell're those things outside? What're they even doin' here?" There was a no-nonsense bark in his voice although it was improbable that Zephyr could give him the clear answer that he wanted and needed right now. It was obvious in just his toffee eyes that he was scared and, right now, information was one of the few things that could comfort the teen. He'd been alone for over twenty-four hours with only groans and shrieks from the outside as his company. And now there was finally someone who might be able to shed some light as to what was going on.

Still sucked that it was Zephyr though. Who was Zephyr? Just some pretty face that'd been one of Fiona's many boyfriends at some point and who Alex had automatically crossed him off as a douchebag. Only handsome douchebags with nice bodies dated Patrick's daughter. The asshole jock kind, the snot-nosed rich boy kind, the popular prom king kind. Alex had never bothered himself with wondering which category Zephyr fell into because, then again, he hadn't cared and he didn't associate himself with whatever Fiona brought home with her. That girl changed arm candy like she changed knickers - something Alex knew was often due to the amount of guys she bedded. Living in the attic-turned-studio with the old ventilation system that the house had made for some horribly sleepless nights. Sleeping with headphones plugged into his scratched and much-loved iPod to drown out any sultry and dirty noises had became like second nature after living there only a short while.

"Tell me what you know. Or get the fuck out." Alex carefully pronunciated, keeping the frightened waver in his voice at a minimum as the rotting creatures continued to push against the fortified door in vain. Hopefully they'd get bored soon. Or find something or someone else to hungrily pursue and leave the café alone. The thought that they were there just on the other side of the door had Alex on his toes and jumpy; Zephyr should be relieved that the rifle he was toting in fact had the safety on and wasn't loaded with a single bullet. Not that Alex would even shoot it in the case that he actually knew how to wield it; making unnecessary amounts of noise was perhaps not the best thing to do right now. They already had unwanted attention and to attract even more would be beyond idiotic. "Have they... bitten you like Fiona? Scratched? Are y'with anyone else?"

words: 1031

[/size]

[Zephyr Israel Wallace]

|words;; 867 || au universe;; zombies || Song used;; N/A || notes;; second attempt this :3 |

He watched. Legs refused to move, help the slight guy move the fridge; instead, his body decided that enough was enough and he plopped on the floor, bowing his head and eyes squeezed shut. Because he needed just a few moments to himself- to get his mind to wrap around what happen. Or been happening. Or.. or.. God, how the hell did everything become this messed up? Just the other week, things seemed normal, where people would be walking down and up the sidewalks, shoulder bumps and the rude but common 'Watch where you're going'- all that been switched for moans and groans of these... things. Biters, that name he fondly called them now.

Maybe he needed more than a couple of moments- a part of him wanted to crawl back to bed, pull the sheets over his head and wake up from this horrible dream. His mind wouldn't let him be, flashing different faces- faces he... let die. He could've helped. But instead, he stepped over, ran past, turned away. And for what- to get a friend that wasn't where he said he would be. Should Ze be worry? Angry at his best friend for failing on his part? Shit, the guy, at this moment, could be dead for all he knew. Or worse- one of those biters. His head snapped up. What was the cafe employee doing now? That sounded like a... "What the fuck?!" Why the hell was he staring down the barrel of a gun? His eyes darted up, staring at Alex; his hands were lifted up, because else could he do? And lost or confused wasn't fitting words to describe the thoughts going by in his mind. There was a chance of grabbing it- but he even if he somehow wrestle the thing off the other, did he even know how to shoot? Call of Duty was a fun game but playing that didn't make him a gun expert.

Pft. Haven't seen him in a while? So the guy did recognize him, yet that didn't stop Alex from lowering the gun anytime soon. Then again, brunette never had a... fondness of Ze, to tell the truth. Snippiness and curt attitude, was what he had to deal with- and don't get him wrong, he attempted something of a friendship. But that was the last thing the other wanted, he guessed. "Y-yeah, its me..." He stuttered out, blue eyes straying to look at the gun instead, "I d-don't know. I mean, I do know its something...? Shit, just.. put the gun down, Torres, please." Damn. Maybe he should of taken his chance outside instead?

Honestly, this was surprising. Of all the people to... well, pull a gun on him- Alex never would come to mind. Or anyone, the fact of the matter. It was just... no. Someone with Alex's face, though his eyes did seem a bit harsh at time, was the least bit threatening. And... pretty cute, to tell the truth. Even when he was Fiona, there's no denying Alex did... sort of attract him. Ze blamed those expressive toffee-colored eyes and curiosity of seeing the other smile, something that he never did when Ze was around. He was the farthest thing from being gay... at least, with his circle of friends and family, he was sure of that fact. But that didn't change the fact, every now and again while he was dating Fiona, Alex did somehow wiggle his way into his thoughts.

With his hands still up, he slowly got up, and his eyes on the rifle in Alex's lithe hands; they did, once, glance up for a split second of eye contact and... shit, he didn't look all too of himself. But Ze could brush that off with him being rattled? Those biters were banging against the door, and even he sent a nervous glance at the door- it looked sturdy but was it going to hold against the scratching and groaning? Wouldn't been the first time he seen one of those things break down a door. Just a matter of time-- or they find someone to snack on. And as morbidly selfish as it was sad, he was hoping for the latter. "B-bitten? No, no, I ain't. Hey, where's Mr. Pat? And Fiona? Are they in the back?" A small part of him hope the answer was Yes but... he had the feeling of doubt. "Alex, I'm not going to... please put the gun down. I don't know what's happening- I'm just looking for my friend and... Fuck. Mike." He patted his pockets and sighed in relief- he remember his phone on his rush out the door. Though it was nearly dead, it was better than nothing. But just as he swiped the screen and unlocked it- of course it dies. "Hey, Alex- do you have a phone charger? I forgot mines at home, and..." He probably looked pathetic, holding his phone, and pleading with the guy with the gun- Ze didn't know whether to be more frustrated at the situation or...

God. Please help me.

[/size]

[alexander jay garcía torres]

Using the muzzle of a gun wasn't ever Alex's preferred method of getting the truth out of someone but, damn, he had to admit that it was effective. He listened as Zephyr responded to his questions without lowering the rifle or his guard for a single moment. Never had Alex been one to intimidate someone into the flappy mess the other boy seemed to be getting himself worked up to yet, for now at least, he didn't mind. Perhaps it was because he knew that he only bluffed with the long firearm, that it was highly unlikely that the thing would go off on its own accord or by accident. And thank god Zephyr hadn't picked up on his ineptitude with guns, otherwise he'd look like a trembling fool fumbling with fire and not threatening at all.

Zephyr... seemed convincing enough for Alex though. He stared hard at his face for one long moment at the boy now clutching a dead phone, his amber eyes flickering over his expression and only seeing what he interpreted as honesty mixed with fear. "Patrick took Fiona t'the hospital 'cause they got t'her arm pree' bad." Alex said, his voice now down to a scratchy whisper. And even quieter he added: "...but that was yesterday." Yesterday. Shit. But, then again, they'd bitten it badly. The doctors would keep her in overnight, she'd lost a lot of blood and in the small glimpse Alex managed to get of her chewed arm he could've sworn he'd seen muscle and strings of tendons. Perhaps she needed some sort of reconstruction. Maybe she was in danger of losing her hand. It was possible that Patrick hadn't wanted to leave his little girl with all those monsters crawling the streets, even if it meant leaving Alex to fend for himself back at the café. Family came first, friends came after, and only then did everyone else. Alex just had to stay positive and hold on for him to come back.

Finally looking away from Zephyr's wide, icey blue eyes, Alex lowered the gun with a sigh that deflated his chest and sagged his shoulders. "We got a couple o'chargers behind the counter. That's it. Try your luck." Deciding to not return the hunting rifle back to its bag where someone like Zephyr could get their hands on it, Alex slipped his arm and head through the strap and wore it slung over his back. Just because he'd chosen to believe what the guy had rambled out didn't mean he trusted him. Alex didn't know Zephyr and he was still classed as one of Fiona's douchebag exes until further notice. The fact that Zephyr had been the only one that Alex vaguely remembered being civil with him just made him more wary. He assumed him to be a slimeball that was probably after something besides a fake and forged friendship. Gossip, a favour, a good word in to Patrick; those sort of things. That was the reason for Alex's unfriendly demeanor towards Fiona's ex and it wasn't about to automatically change just because things were getting hairy and crazy outside.

"Y'look like y'could do with some water too." He commented, giving the lightly tanned individual one last look over before turning to the café's counter he'd spent the last six months working behind. The teen reached for a bottle of room-temperature water and tossed it gently for the other to catch, getting himself another bottle in the process. Every so often Alex would glance at the door which rattled with less intensity now, sounding like now only one of the stumbling groaners remained fruitlessly at the door. That allowed some room to relax, at least. One creature at the door rather than three or four was definitely something to feel relief about. Eventually the last one would get bored and go find some other door to moan ghoulishly behind.

Alex gave a jerky nod of his head towards the jumble of chargers plugged in near the cash register. Their thin cables were all messed and tangled up and partly hidden under a tea towel which Alex picked up before wandering over to the sink. The feel of something's blood on his skin was nauseating due to his squeamish attitute to everything bloody and gorey, he was the type that flinched with horror flicks and turned away at animal documentaries that showed predators tearing into prey. The fact that he'd probably just clubbed a monster to death hadn't sank in yet but when it did he'd most likely end up balking. The mindset of 'rather kill than be killed' would take some time to be accepted by him.

"Y'better hurry and call that friend of yers." Alex sighed with a dull monotone, drying his clean and fruity-smelling hands on the cloth which he folded and returned to its rightful spot behind the counter. "Who knows how long we'll have signal for... if this is like any movie I've seen, it'll be the first thing that goes, won't it?" He intended for that quip to be something resembling a weak stab at some humour but no smile accompanied it so instead of it being humourous, it just seemed like some serious advice. Alex twisted his thin, pink lips together and looked down at the bottle of fresh water held in his hand at his failed attempt to lighten the atmosphere. He blamed being alone and awake for an unnatural amount of time for his bluntness. That and how he didn't trust or like the guy he'd saved, plus there was that lone creature sounding like it was half-heartedly humping the door. "So, yeah, hurry the fuck up... then y'can think about what y'gonna do."

That was a thought. Was Alex even heartless enough to force Zephyr back out on the infested street? He'd gotten an eyeful of what was out there. He knew for certain that he wouldn't willingly go back out there in any rush. Swallowing his cool water quietly, suddenly feeling quite parched, Alex looked back over at his rescued acquaintance as he mulled over what to do with him next while he rested his behind against the wooden, homely counter top.

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[Zephyr Israel Wallace]

|words;; 737 || au universe;; zombies || Song used;; N/A || notes;; second attempt this :3 |

Admittedly, begging wasn't the only option he could of went for- sure, trouble was the last thing he wanted but... standing at full height and comparing to Alex's, it was safe to say that snatching the gun away would of been a more aggressive but easier way, the safe way. Staring down the barrel of a rifle that, at the distance he held, could kill him; it was surprising, to say the least, that Alex even have a gun. Maybe it was Mr. Patrick, the cafe owner... but even then, a man who normally wore flowery, tourist shirts and bermudas was a far cry from a gun owner. And he seriously doubt the brunette just happen upon one.

It was a sinking feeling, to hear that. Sinking feeling mixed with a bit of worry- sure, he hated that cheating bitch, and that last phone call conversation he had with the father left a sour taste in his mouth, but... the way Alex spoke, and they're being gone for more than a day, there was nothing good about that answer. Maybe a bit of hope, but the unwavering doubt hung in the air and overshadowed it. "Have... Have you tried calling them? Do you want to?" There was a slight hesitation- because Alex might, but does he want to call them? Mr. Patrick was a big guy, strong- and if one thing, for that short time knowing, was something that couldn't be taken down so easily. Especially if his daughter involve. And there was the thought- did Alex care about either? Him and Fiona... from her gossipy mouth, he knew that the two weren't the bestest of friends. Hell, more tolerance if anything- they were living together, after all, so there had to be.

He gave Alex a once-over, once the gun was lower- man, the other guy looked like shit. But then again, Ze guessed he did too. He nodded his head, pausing for a second, "Are you... um. Nevermind." He turned on the balls of his feet, stuffing his phone in his pocket. "Thanks." No point pushing to ask for his well-being- if he was an asshole, he would of thought that the employee deserve one after pointing the gun at him, but the reason he chicken out asking was simply because.. Alex probably wouldn't answer. He sighed quietly himself, searching for a charger that fit. Too big, too small, ew for an apple phone-- ah, this one looks right. He picked it up, looking for the nearest outlet, which was conveniently behind him. . The thumping seemed to dull, and so did the groans of the biters- Were his prayers answered?

Plugging in, he plopped beside his phone as the screen glowed back into existence. Ze gave Alex a small smile, first one he cracked in a while, and twisted open the bottle cap, taking a generous gulp from it. "And thanks again. Man, you're just racking up this good karma, arent'cha?" He chuckled, glancing down at his phone- he'll give a few moments, before attempting to call Mike. That was, if his friend had more than a few minutes. Ze shifted, looking up with the same smile that was dampen just a bit. He didn't really want to think about that- frankly, he had the hope of the army marching in and clearing up the... pest problem outside, eating the people and violating the doors. "Pft, usually. That or the fatties." He gave a small laugh, short lived because... the comment wasn't in the best of taste. "Eh, I think I still go a good hour or so before shit goes bad- because signal lost when the power usually gone or something, right?"

There was a pause.

"Think what I'm... gonna do..." He's voice faltered, his lips pressing together, and his stomach dropped. He wasn't going back outside, not after what he saw. It was hell on earth. If anything, he was going to call Mike over to cafe, since going back out would be.... suicide "I'm not welcome here...? I thought... um, fine. How long do I got until I'm out then, Torres?" The grip on the bottle tighten and shit... he was hoping Alex's sense of humanity wouldn't fail him at this moment.

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[alexander jay garcía torres]

If it weren't for how Alex's eyes were continuously darting between Zephyr, the front door and the bottle of water clasped in his hands, Alex would've rolled his eyes at Zephyr. Of course he'd tried on numerous occasions by now to try and get in touch with Patrick. His own phone sat on the table that he'd adopted as his 'guard station' on vibrate and, worringly enough, he hadn't received a single call or message yet since this whole thing blew up. "Fiona lost her handbag when she got attacked. And y'can't have y'phone on in the hospital anyway." Alex offered in explanation, taking this chance to settle his own antsy worries some, continuing to convince himself that Patrick and his daughter were alive and well in the hospital. "M'gonna try again in a lil' bit." The cautious teen patted a front pocket on his slim-fitting jeans where the telltale square bulge of a mobile phone could be seen. Plus Alex really didn't want to feel as though he owed Zephyr anything. Even if it were something as simple as a quick phone call.

Steadily beginning to calm down as much as he could given the current situation, Alex watched as the other teen plugged in his phone and drank some water as well. There wasn't anything out of the ordinary about his behaviour that had alarm bells ringing; instead, the kid seemed genuinely pleasant and gracious. But whatever. Alex reminded himself that anyone could be a decent actor if the situation called for it. This could be one of those times. Don't trust and hold strangers at arm's length and you won't be disappointed or let down.

With how Alex was behaving and treating Zephyr right now you probably wouldn't guess that the same boy had drunkenly been doing a pathetic conga line five nights ago with a vampire, a toothfairy, a low-budget Ironman and two 'dead' smurfs while declaring his love for a hot man-witch. Why man-witch and not wizard? Alex didn't have the foggiest idea. But on that night of Halloween it somehow made all the sense in the world after a few beers. That was October thirty-first for you.

Back to the present now where Alex was keeping strong with his social cold shoulder, thoughts of Halloween's festivities long behind him. He even went to the point of making sure to conveniently be sipping water whenever Zephyr chuckled and chortled so he wouldn't feel obliged to force out a false smile in response. This attitude wasn't Alex but he was pretty fine at it. He put it down to skirting around people with bullying personas in his high school years, the kind of people Fiona dated and the kind which Alex had lumped Zephyr into until he proved him wrong. "Blondes usually get the pop first too." Alex supplied as he screwed the cap to his half-empty bottle of water. He also started to walk away from the a counter where both boys were hanging, as if putting a wordless end to their brief conversation.

It appeared as though Zephyr got the gist of what Alex was hinting to with his comment on thinking what he should do. And, curse his good-natured heart, he felt a bit of a guilty pang on hearing the confidence vanish in his voice at the prospect of being forced back out onto the street. It put Alex in a bit of a situation because, like, Zephyr wasn't actually wanted here. Just because Alex had saved him never meant that he was expected to take care of him, right? Like, he'd never rescued him thinking that he'd be burdened with the outcome of his good deed? Pfft. That was good karma for you. Alex felt the wooden stock of the hunting rifle knock against his behind in gentle pats as he slowly stalked over to his little 'guard station' - one of the few remaining tables that he'd placed slap-bang in the middle of the room - and chewed his fingernail in thought. As much as he could mentally bitch about the douchebag in his midst, Alex knew he didn't have the heart to kick him out...

"Wait 'til Patty gets back then." The teen finally sighed, gingerly lowering himself into his chair at the table. "He's the boss still. Ask him when he gets here." Problem solved. Pass the buck to Patrick and let him deal with the bit of mess he'd created. Fair enough, Alex hadn't a clue when the round man would return but now, at least, he had crappy company until he did. It was odd though. But the mere idea of someone else being in the café, despite it being Zephyr, was somewhat comforting. Perhaps it was because it meant that there were now two pairs of eyes on the door and a small slice of overwhelming pressure was relieved from Alex's tired shoulders which sagged in his chair. Jeez. What he wouldn't do for a good night's rest now in his bed upstairs.

"But, like, if y'here 'til Pat gets here... no funny shit, 'right?" Alex twisted around in his seat to stare at the other man face-on. "Y'try anyfin' and you's back on the street f'those things t'make ribbons from y'intestines. And'm serious." His eyes weighed down with dark circles narrowed to warning slits and he shifted the firearm around so it sat on his lap and he could lean back against his chair without the thing poking into him. Zephyr might've believed before that Alex was properly armed and maybe even dangerous but that thought couldn't last forever. Alex planned to milk it for as long as he could or until he figured out how the fucking thing even worked. Shit, Patrick should've really taken half a minute to explain the basics to the clueless kid. Like, what was gonna happen if he needed to actually, y'know, use it? "You's not allowed upstairs either. Y'stay down here. Where I can keep my eye on you." His exhausted, sleepy eye that hadn't seen a decent kip in too long for him to honestly manage.

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[Zephyr Israel Wallace]

|words;; 1204 || au universe;; zombies || Song used;; N/A || notes;; ;v; the museeeeeee |

"Oh. Well, uh, if you ever, like, talk to him- let me know? Been awhile since been here... or seen Mr. Pat."

It wasn't hard to see, how much of his presence was... well, unwanted. And Ze didn't have the slightest clue the other's dislike of him came from. Actually, he did but not reasons he wanted to accept. Did he ever do something wrong? Press a button he shouldn't have? Hell, did Fiona say some nasty things about him, and any dislike push this cold attitude up a couple of degrees? Maybe it was the fact its only the two of them- nobody to save Ze from the awkward feeling he got from talking to Alex.

It wasn't a horrible feeling- far, far from an bad feeling; just thought it was weird and a bit curious about it. He was an affable guy, with a winning grin and a way to climb into other people social circles. He was everyone friend's- well, in his father's words, everyone that matters. Sure, a bit selfish, and being friendly guy didn't instantly mean you're the neighbourhood saint- it was a clear sign he was far from that. But... but.... Alex, this guy whose eyes seem to land anywhere and everywhere than looking directly into, puzzled him. Because he wasn't a guy he would normally talk to- and the fact the thin brunette had no intention to continue with chatting. But there was the sudden want to this all.

Probably the fact he's without his peeps and the only other person to talk with was... well, has a bone to pick with him; hell at this point, seeing a familiar face made him want to chatter a mile a minute. He wasn't going to let the other slip out of the conversation just yet.

He took a casual swing of the water- and how bad now he wished it was some form of alcohol. Shit, at least then he wouldn't need to filter every god damn thing in fear of enticing the wrath of the gun-toting slimjim. You can't shoot an drunkie... well, hopefully, that was a rule Alex knew. Ze idely tapped a nameless beat, setting his bottle down as he crossed his legs. "Blond chicks especially. But it those bitches fault, half the time." A smirk lingered, amused as he shut his eyes and leaning his head against the wall, "Lucky me, I didn't fall in any of those categories." There was a pause... and damn- didn't he just say he didn't want the other to slip out? Ze cracked an eye open. Well, not only was the conversation was over, it seemed that starting a new one wasn't in mind either. His shoulder slumped, eyes glancing down at his hands.

At this point, hated or not, he did kind of missed Fiona. While, yeah, the red head was nothing but a no-good cheater... at least she made him feel wanted. But she probably made a lot of guys feel wanted to. He still had feelings, the little bitch that he was. What could he say? He took his mother personality. But like many of his friend's called it- him and the redhead weren't built to last; torn up and hell, a lot hurting that refused to go away. It was one thing, to be honest, to hear your girlfriend that she had some fun and went quite around. That one thing. He given the benefit of the doubt. And for that, return with a present of her macking on the lips that belonged to one of his... 'good' friends. Stormed out that night after tugging her away and making fool out of himself- but there was a sick little satisfaction when he brought his down the spoiled girl when she had the attitude to be offended. At the time, wished the worst things on her; humiliation of being cheated and just... gah, the humiliation was enough, to raise all kinds of hell. And ice cream to eaten. Oh yeah, finishing the first two seasons of Supernatural while he was on this stride of self-pity.

But now, there was guilt. Because for he knew, the last parting words of "There's special kind of hell for you" wasn't the best kind of words- ex or not. Well, last words were a slap but that case aside. God. The mistakes he made- mulling the fact that, yeah, trekking 3 and ^1/2 blocks nearly killed him, and now that he was alive, there was all kinds of regrets. And apologizes. "Eh... probably might end up splitting before the old man comes. I'm last person he would want to see." Ze chuckled bitterly, crawling over to the counter and peering over at Alex with a hint of amusement in his grin. "Ain't you a charmer, my friend? Don't worry- I'm not the one with the gun, am I? I'll be on my best behavior." There a small wink, and he disappeared back behind the counter, leaning against his wall.

Should I try? Aw, fuck it. He'll probably pick it up at the first ring. He picked up his phone, swiping the screen with the pad of his thumb and put the password in with practiced ease. He tapped a few things, checking his missed calls- none, before moving onto his text massages that were conveniently none as well. Ze took a deep breath in, dialing Mike's number and held it to his ear.

Rinnnnggggg.... Rinnnnnngggggggg..... Rinnnnnngggggggggggg.

No answer. He tried it again. And again. And again.

Then sent the text @ Cafe near prkinglot w/ alex pls swing by, might b kck'd out, bro.- before calling a fourth and fifth time. This can't be happening- maybe Mike's phone died. Or he like, lost it. Not the first time the dumbass did. Maybe...

Gah, he felt a tightening in his throat and he brought knees close, hugging them as rested his knee against the top. Mikey's alright- no need to fucking overthink. Probably back at the apartment, hatching a plan with Tina to come and rescue my fucking ass... Yeah, they're coming. He sighed, but he's thoughts weren't at all calming. Just... couldn't be with all his doubts floating about. But for a desperate, last chance, he tried getting through and send two more text the guy's way. Called Tina once and texted her as well. By the time he finished he let out a tired, sigh and... well, shit, now what. "....Pft.Fucking Mike." He gave a small chuckle, tossing his phone- it skidded to a stop, but other than that, unharmed. But still stop frustration in him. "Always that one guy y'know that never pick up." Maybe Alex couldn't see him and his pathetic scowl as he started peeling off the wrapper of his bottle, clicking his tongue. "Yo, Alex. I was wondering if there was anything to snack on, if you don't mind. I mean, I don't got my wallet but... I could go for something sweet."

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[alexander jay garcía torres]

Poor Zephyr. It seemed as though that he was oblivious to how he actually did fall into a category of characters that were the first to die in your typical horror flick. The 'douchebag' category. They were the ones that the spectator got a feeling of satisfaction from when they died, usually in a painful and/or gruesome way, that made the saying 'what goes around, comes around' ring out loud. Fair enough, Alex didn't know Zephyr personally. His opinion on him had been fabricated based on what he saw, what he guessed and what he assumed. But Alex didn't regret passing early judgement on the fellow Spanish-bred Englishman. He even got the faintest sliver of a smirk as he mused on how Zephyr fell into that 'douchebag' category. It quickly vanished when the man spoke with the wrong choice of words.

"We ain't friends." The teen stated simply, his amber eyes boring bitterly into the guy's face again. "Y'just owe me one f'savin' y'pathetic ass, 'right? Don't make us friends." To tell the truth, Alex wasn't too bothered if he ever repaid the favour or not but it was a nice feeling to have one up on one of the popular brats like Zephyr. It was slightly empowering. And so what if he chose to leave the café before Patrick returned? Even better for Alex. That way he wouldn't have to give explanations to his boss as to why Fiona's ex was around. And Alex's conscience would be guilt-free since, like, he'd pretty much offered the guy some decent shelter for a while longer and Alex wasn't exactly going to beg him to stay.

As Zephyr started trying his friend on his phone, Alex shifted in his seat and angled his body away from him to give him some slight privacy to call in peace. Although his eyes weren't focused on him, his ears were. They strained to hear the dull electronic ringing of a call going through followed by a 'burr burr burr' of the call not being picked up. From what Alex could make out, Zephyr tried it a few times and not once did this 'Mike' pick up. The corners of his lips turned down in a sympathetic frown as he distractedly watched the door. The phone not being picked up could mean anything but, right now, it wouldn't hurt to assume worst in some mental preparation. Alex sank back into his simple wooden chair with a cushy pillow on the seat and sighed, the joints of the furniture creaking under his weight. The lone creature that'd been rubbing against the boarded up door sounded like it'd gotten bored or tired because its slow, shuffling plods seemed to be getting more distant. About time, too.

"Grab y'self somefin'. Money don't matter." Alex muttered, rubbing his cheek tiredly with the heel of his hand. "Nuffin's fresh t'day, s'all yesterday's stuff. But it'll still be good." The glass displays that sat next to the wooden counter top were still filled with treats prepared for yesterday's lunch rush that'd never happened. Minus two cinnamon rolls and a sugar-glazed doughnut which Alex'd eaten, it was all untouched. It wouldn't hurt if Zephyr got himself a couple of things; it was all going to go off eventually if no one ate it. "There's pop and juice in the fridge as well--" Alex broke off with a large yawn that he barely managed to cover with the back of his hand. "...help y'self."

Alex's own stomach gave a small, faintly audible rumble but food was the last thing he wanted after seeing what he'd saw outside. He had a terrible feeling that anything he ate wouldn't stay down for long so... he was going to just stick to water for now. Zephyr could gorge himself for all he cared. Before food, he wanted, needed, some shuteye but with Zephyr about and knowing some of those revolting humanlike things were humping around the vicinity, Alex'd rather not run his chances. Feeling his eyes growing dangerously heavy now that he was comfortably sat in a snug chair, Alex gave a tiny clear of his throat and sat up, squeezing the bottle tighter in his hand. "And grab us an energy drink... or a coffee if y'know how."

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