Infected [killugon/killuaxgon]

Others?

~Gon's POV~

I have been thinking lately, and I've noticed that neither Killua nor I have many ranged weapons other than the few throwing knives we have left, after losing quite a few. Therefore, I decided we might need to go out and get more?

It could be very dangerous. On the way, they might be walkers of all different sorts we would need to fight and kill. We would be less flexible with our backpacks on, although maybe we could make do with just one. Lastly, the building itself is dangerous. The possibilities are endless. It could be overrun by walkers, there could be no safe exit once we get inside, or it could overall have nothing useful.

Though before concluding anything, I need Killua's permission. He may or may not think it's a good idea for us to go, but he might have noticed as well that this needed to be done at one point. I think it might be that point.

I walk over and sit next to him on the couch. He looks up from the screen of his phone and quickly turns it off, throwing it next to him. I see no reason not to bring it up at this exact moment. "Do you think it's the right time to go out and find some range weapons? We don't have many weapons besides those for close combat."

Killua nodded his head and sat up. "I suppose we can do that. I was getting bored anyway," he says after yawning. I smile at him before getting up myself. "Alright then! Are there any particular items we should bring?" I ask as he walks over to the closet where all of our weapons are kept. "Not particularly. All we need are our close-combat weapons and a backpack to carry everything else. If we find anything, that is." He tells me.

In response, I nod my head and pick up my bat, while Killua makes protesting sounds. "Nope, it's my turn." He grins widely and takes the bat from me. "I guess you'll be carrying the backpack," I said. He no longer had that bright smile on his face, but instead looked dejected. He pulled the backpack over his shoulders and scoffed in my direction, but I didn't bother acknowledging it. After giving him a pat on the back, I led him to the door.

We easily snuck out, per usual. There are not usually large groups of walkers around here, but downtown where we are going, there are quite a few. The area where I live is less populated, so people from the more densely populated areas would visit the park and cafe up here, as well as the small stores located nearby.

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We made it to the town, and it was nothing to write home about. In the midst of summer, all the heat radiating off the concrete was very obvious, along with all the poor homeless dogs. I have no idea how they managed to survive this long. When and where did they obtain clean food and water?

In addition to that, some buildings had broken windows, and the trees outside appeared stale. Though, that's just how I see it. Killua however, was looking around himself with wide eyes and a slight grin.

Cars sprawled the streets in the most random places, thrown around and flipped. Upon closer inspection, you would see that some cars still had the remains of their owners inside. Trash littered the place as if a garbage truck had exploded by the sheer amount of garbage it was carrying. Large signs and banners were just barely hanging on to surfaces, saying things like; 'The end is upon us,' 'We cannot live like this', 'Do something about this', And many more demands or pleas for help.

I frown as I realize the world might never be the same. 'At least the people knew what was going on. They made the mistake of beginning protests instead of taking shelter, though.'

Killua and I were walking side by side quietly, not saying a word but occasionally sharing glances. "How old are you?" I ask, curiously. He looked over at me, surprised I had spoken, and shrugged his shoulders. "I turned 18 this year. You're around my age, right?" He asked me in return. My smile continued as I replied, "In a few months, I'll be 19."