Spare Changes

9 - Clonefrontation

Summary: Time to infiltrate! And make it out... alive!

Notes: CW - decently descriptive body horror, and lots of blood! Violence! Guns! Knives!  This chapter is the turning point of the story.

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Tom may have protested, but he was of course out-voted.

Tord wanted to face his clone. May the best Tord win, basically. Edd wanted to help. Despite the norski saying he didn't need it.

Matt just followed along with the group.

So Tom was forced to load up and arm himself once again. Edd vetoed the harpoon gun, stating it was too heavy to lug around. Unfortunately, he's right.

He's anticipating something bad. It's a fight they may not win. This is an army. Sure, he's fought a zombie army before, but that ended rather poorly too, with them all being bit.

Zombie cure worked really well, though. Reattached Matt's limbs and everything. Now he's only semi-undead for other reasons.

The Red Army probably also has guns. That's a real sticking point.

Tom has his special trick up his sleeve, if he needs it. He hopes he won't. What an explanation that'll have to be, to his friends.

Matt and Edd, he means. Tord doesn't deserve one.

They're probably prepared.

Matt sometimes pulls out his vampiric tricks. Edd uses his remaining powers sparingly to save them for emergencies.

Tord... Tom knows he's an excellent shot.

They should be alright.

He hopes.

Edd puts the car in park a good distance away from the abandoned factory. Tom strains his neck to look out the window, and spots what looks like people stood outside the building.

They're here.

"Well, that was embarrassing." Edd scratches his neck. He had been so sure that the other facility was the correct one, and they had barged into an empty building.

"Second time's the charm!" Matt says brightly.

"It's usually third," Tom corrects.

"Well... should we find a third one then?"

The bassist sighs.

"No, Matt."

They all get out of the car. Edd is loading up his shotgun, his trusted shovel strapped to his back. Useful in a zombie apocalypse, but now?

Tom's not sure.

He keeps shaking off the anxiety. Tom double-checks his own gun, making sure it's working properly. All good. Matt has a pistol shoved in his belt, but Tom knows he won't be using it. He had seen him sharpening his claws and checking his teeth this morning.

Tord's the one who is actually decked out. His automatic weapon, his absolute favourite, is tightly gripped in both hands as he darts his eyes around the mostly empty lot. Grenades and extra rounds hang from his hip.

He seems super on edge. Tom knows why.

After their first failed attempt, the norski had pulled him aside.

"Thomas. I may need your help."

"What? No."

"No, listen. I need time alone with that clone once we actually get to his base of operations."