Furzombie - a gay furry zombie apocalypse

Friends? - Sam

I couldn't stay mad at him. Not with those eyes. The guy was beautiful, and I mean really beautiful. His shoulders filled out his shirt like he'd been sculpted, and he moved with this quiet confidence that was just... captivating.

Linda. Yeah, I'd heard about her, seen her around the pub a few times. She moved here a couple of years back, and she did go on about her son. Could this really be the personal trainer she wouldn't stop talking about? He certainly looked the part.

I vaguely remembered her mentioning he was gay, it was a small village and we knew most people that lived here, and being the only gay in the village, people would often mention their friends and try and set us up on some inevitable car crash of a date, but—hell—he didn't look gay, maybe I was thinking of someone else. My thoughts drifted somewhere I wasn't proud of, chalking it up to the isolation. Living alone on the farm, weeks of dodging death, and zero human—or fur—contact messes with your head.

I had to stop staring at him.

"You okay?" Josh asked, tilting his head, his bow still slung over his shoulder.

I snapped out of it, clearing my throat. "Uh, yeah. Fine."

I was such a dick for blaming him earlier, he was pretty much the first person I'd met who hadn't want to kill or rob me

"I didn't mean to snap at you, Josh," I said finally. "It came out wrong. Those guys... they set up an ambush. It wasn't your fault."

He shrugged, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Hey, it's fine. Thanks again. I owe you my life. The Nutella's still yours, though, if you want it."

That smile... Damn, he was adorable.

"We should save it," I suggested, trying to sound practical. "Let's find some other supplies first. We might need something to celebrate with later."

I aimed the shotgun at the lock on the backroom door.

"Keep an eye out for those things," I said, glancing at him. "They love noise."

Josh nodded, stepping back and steadying an arrow on his bow. I had to admit, he looked good holding it, like some kind of post-apocalyptic archer.

With a loud blast, the lock disintegrated, and I pulled at the door until it creaked open.

The stockroom was depressingly sparse. Most of it was mouldy bread, rotting fruit, and other perishable garbage that stank worse than the zombies. But there were a few damaged tins and some dry goods that still looked usable. I swept them into my bag. It wasn't much, but it was something.

When I stepped back into the store, Josh was still keeping watch, his eyes scanning the street.

"Anything?"

"Nothing," he replied, lowering the bow.

I set the tins on the counter, realizing I hadn't thought this through. "Uh, do you want to split these, or...?"

He hesitated, his face falling slightly. "Oh. I thought maybe we could help each other. It's okay, though, if not." He trailed off, looking down at the tins like he was already regretting saying anything.

It hit me then—how long it had been since I'd talked to someone like this. Someone alive. Someone who didn't want to rob me, eat me, or shoot me. Maybe I had to trust him, I could certainly use a second set of eyes especially if I truly was going to leave the farm and find somewhere better, sleeping in the secure farm was one thing, but sleeping out on the road?

I sighed. "I've been hiding at a farm up the road," I offered. "The waters tainted now, and all my food was in the pickup. It's safe there though, and I don't fancy my chances being out here when its dark. That's where the smoke's coming from. I, uh, set the barn on fire."