Furzombie - a gay furry zombie apocalypse

A sinking feeling - Sam

God, I hate water. It's my fur's worst enemy. How any fur could enjoy swimming is beyond me. If there's one thing worse than a pool, it's saltwater mixed with sand at the beach—pure torture.

The drying fan roared around me, drowning out all other sounds with its relentless hum. The hot, rushing wind whipped through my fur, leaving it fluffier with every passing second. I gave my coat a few final pats, satisfied that it was finally dry. At least this place had a fur-drying cube; small mercies, I supposed.

Josh was already getting dressed as I stepped out, wrapping a towel around myself. He looked over at me briefly, then quickly away, fiddling with his shirt as though it suddenly needed straightening. There was an awkwardness between us, and I couldn't shake the feeling that it was partly my fault. Maybe I'd been too grumpy earlier, letting my dislike of water take over.

But it wasn't just the pool that had put me in a foul mood—this place unsettled me. It was too clean, too perfect, like it was trying a little too hard to be inviting. Something about it screamed trap, and Ricky wasn't exactly helping to calm my nerves. He knew more than he was letting on, I was sure of it.

Then there was Josh. I couldn't figure him out. Every now and then, I'd catch him glancing at me—not just a casual glance, but one that lingered a second too long. I'd caught him doing it in the shower earlier, though he tried to look away fast enough. He said he just wanted to be friends, but... was that really all?

I dismissed the thought, shaking my head as I pulled on my joggers. Humans were impossible to read at the best of times, and I didn't need to get caught up in guesswork. I grabbed my shirt and turned to the mirror, running my hands through my fur until it looked somewhat presentable. At least I was clean now—my fur smelled fresh, which was a rare luxury these days.

A loud growl interrupted my thoughts. Was that my stomach, or Josh's? Hard to tell.

"What time can we have dinner?" I asked, trying to focus on something other than the nagging unease creeping up my spine.

"Not sure," Josh replied, holding the door open. "We can drop off our towels and check. You ready?"

I hesitated, fiddling with my hair. "Why? Did I miss a spot?"

Josh chuckled. "No, you look fine. Just asking."

I followed him out, dropping off the towels as we passed the pool desk. Once again, no one stopped us. No one asked us what we were doing or where we were going. And where the heck was the other 'guests' It was... unsettling. it made my fur stand on end. This place felt like a bizarre cross between a vacation resort and a trap.

Ricky had seemed friendly enough when we met him, but the more I thought about it, the more certain I was that he was hiding something. Nobody offers free room and board in an apocalypse without strings attached. Maybe he really did just want new supply runners, but what happened to the old ones?

The thought gnawed at me as we headed to the restaurant. Tables were already set, and a man approached us.

"Are you wishing to eat now?" he asked, his tone polite and practiced.

"Yes!" Josh and I answered in unison, sliding into seats at the nearest table.

The man handed us a piece of paper. "This is tonight's menu. Limited choices, but we hope you'll enjoy."

I glanced at the options. Burger or lasagna, each with a side of chips. Below that, in bold lettering, was Chocolate brownies.

"Burger for me," I said almost immediately.