Furzombie - a gay furry zombie apocalypse

Fur & water don't mix - Joshua

"Come on, Sam, let's go swimming. It's not like we're ever going to be able to do something like this again," I said, forcing as much cheer into my voice as I could manage.

Sam stood by the window, his broad shoulders tense as he stared out at the fields beyond the sanctuary walls. I followed his gaze but saw nothing out of the ordinary—just the same rolling hills and patches of overgrown grass that surrounded the place. Peaceful, if a little eerie, but Sam's silence had me on edge.

"What's going on with you?" I asked, nudging his shoulder lightly. "You've been weird ever since we got here. Is it... memories of your sister or something? You said you'd been here before, right?"

He shrugged, the movement so small it was barely there. "Maybe."

Maybe. That one word carried so much weight, and yet it gave me nothing. He was shutting me out again, retreating into whatever quiet storm was brewing in his head.

I didn't want to push too hard, but I couldn't just leave him like this. "Come on, swimming will take your mind off whatever's bugging you. What else are we going to do? Sit here and sulk?"

He finally turned to look at me, and I gave him my best grin. I knew he'd cave eventually—I just had to keep at it.

After a long pause, he sighed and said, "Fine, okay."

"Now that's the spirit!" I said, grabbing a towel and tossing another one in his direction.

We left the room, the quiet hallways around us amplifying the sound of our footsteps. I tried to focus on keeping the mood light, pointing out the absurdity of how empty the sanctuary was. "See?" I said, gesturing toward the deserted halls. "We're free to wander about. It's fine, Sam."

"Yeah," he muttered, his ears twitching slightly. "Something about this place feels... off."

I waved off his concern, hoping my casual tone would help ease his tension. "I think you're just cautious. You're always cautious."

"Maybe," he said, frowning again.

The elevator doors opened, and we stepped inside. I hit the button for the ground floor, leaning against the wall as the doors slid shut.

"I can't just sit around waiting for Ricky to come back with information about my mom," I said, breaking the silence. The words spilled out before I could stop them, raw and vulnerable. "I need to do something—anything—to take my mind off it."

Sam glanced at me, his eyes softening just a bit. "Yeah, you're right."

We followed the signs to the pool, eventually stepping into a small changing room that smelled faintly of chlorine. The scent hit me like a time machine, pulling me back to a world that felt like it belonged to someone else—a world without zombies, without fear.

The room was simple: a central bench, curtained cubicles, a row of yellow lockers. Through a glass door, I could see the pool, its surface shimmering under the lights.

I stripped down to my boxers, tossing my clothes into a locker, and glanced over at Sam. He was slower to follow suit, his movements deliberate. I couldn't help but notice the way his fur ruffled as he pulled off his shirt, the way his muscles shifted beneath it.

"You coming, or are you just going to brood all day?" I teased, grinning at him.

He rolled his eyes but eventually started undressing, muttering something about how water and fur didn't mix.

We stepped into the showers, and I turned the water on, letting it cascade over my head. The warmth felt good, washing away some of the tension from my shoulders. Next to me, Sam stood under his own stream of water, his eyes fixed somewhere on the wall in front of him. I wasn't sure if I was more worried about Sam catching me looking or the possibility of my body betraying me in an embarrassing way.