Furzombie - a gay furry zombie apocalypse

Cheap wine - Sam

Sitting around waiting for someone was my least favourite thing to do, I was enraged even more so because it was Jasper I was waiting for, the nerves were probably getting to me too as I stopped myself pacing up and down the kitchen

"will you just stand still, he's going to suspect something" Josh reminded me, our peaceful existence hadn't lasted long after the supply run there was little respite in this new world.

Josh and I had gathered some more wild game from the forest, and killed around 12 Zombies since our run, the time in-between gathering supplies and hunting we contemplated running but both of us knew it wasn't possible, and the risk was too high.

Someone needed to stop the colony and it was going to be us.

The familiar rumble of Jasper's pickup broke the quiet of the countryside, the low growl of its engine sending a shiver down my spine. My ears pricked instinctively as I caught the sound, and I turned to Josh, who was standing by the table, nervously rearranging the supplies. "They're here," I announced, my voice steadier than I felt.

Josh looked up sharply, his hands freezing mid-motion. His eyes darted to the top of the pile, where the bottle of drugged wine sat gleaming in the dim light. It was bold, leaving it in plain sight, but we'd agreed it was our best shot. The plan hinged on Jasper being too arrogant to suspect us, too used to wielding power over others to see any hint of rebellion coming.

Still, my stomach churned, nerves twisting like live wires in my gut. If this went wrong, it wouldn't just be our lives at stake—it would be our dignity, our defiance, stripped from us in the cruelest ways imaginable. I glanced at Josh, who was trying and failing to appear composed. I envied his calm mask but could see the cracks beneath it. He gave me a faint nod, and I stepped toward the door.

As the pickup truck came to a halt beside our newly acquired car, I took a deep breath and pushed the door open, stepping out into the cool air. Jasper sat in the passenger seat, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the fading daylight. Wooly, his right-hand man, was at the wheel, and in the back, four of Jasper's goons hopped down from the truck bed, each armed and exuding menace.

Jasper exited with his signature swagger, his movements sharp and deliberate. Everything about him radiated control. His stern face was unreadable, save for the faintest curl of a smirk at the corner of his mouth. It was his eyes that unsettled me the most—dark, focused, and always on the verge of something unhinged.

"Boys," he drawled, his tone mocking as his gaze swept over Josh and me. "Did you miss us?"

I swallowed hard and forced a smile. "Hey, come on in," I said, gesturing toward the cabin. "We've got the supplies ready for you in the kitchen."

Jasper's smirk deepened as he followed my gesture. "Well, now that is a surprise. And here Wooly thought you two might give us a hard time." Wooly, a hulking gray wolf with perpetually narrowed eyes, gave Jasper a blank look but said nothing as the group trailed us toward the cabin.

Inside, the kitchen was cramped with the supplies we'd gathered and neatly stacked: canned food, dried goods, a few medical supplies, and, prominently displayed, the bottle of wine. My paw twitched at my side as Jasper entered the room, his sharp eyes darting around like a predator assessing its prey.

"Sam!" Jasper's voice cracked like a whip, and I flinched despite myself. He reached for the wine, holding the bottle up to the light as he inspected its deep red contents. "You've really scored some extra brownie points today."

I forced a chuckle. "Well, that's everything we've got. Fifty percent is yours, as agreed." I gestured to the pile of goods, trying to keep my voice steady.