Suffering: Male Reader x TWDG (slow updates)

Chapter 53: Whispers Of The Past

Two sets of footsteps stomped through the drowned streets of Washington DC, creating ripples in every puddle they disturbed.

"Come on, we have to keep moving."

Charlie looked back at James, who was struggling far too much with his sprained ankle to be able to keep up.

"James, please, just -" Charlie cut himself off, deciding it wasn't worth talking. Instead, he slowed down and draped an arm around James, dragging him along as fast as he could. They had to stay ahead of the undead horde. . . they just had to.

A distant groan from behind reminded him that the undead were indeed still following; and unlike them, Charlie was exhausted. He knew without asking that James was too, and with a sprained ankle was in even worse condition. But Charlie couldn't leave him. Not James.

They ducked into an alleyway and stopped momentarily behind a dumpster, trying to catch their breath.

"You know I can't go on much longer," James said, a grim look on his face as he drew short gasping breaths. "You'll have to leave me, I'm slowing you down too much."

Charlie shook his head. Though he was exhausted, hell, they both were, he wasn't going to leave James behind. "There's no way I'm doing that." He placed a tender kiss on James's cheek and peered out of the alley towards the direction of the groaning horde.

They couldn't see the horde yet, though they had multiple times over the last few days, and they could always hear it. Sometimes, if the horde got close enough, if they had taken too long of a rest, they could even hear the hundreds of footsteps shuffling towards them. A ragged sound that haunted even his brief moments of sleep.

"I'll think of something." He looked further down the alley, to the fire escape that led to the second floor of an apartment building. "If we can only get up there."

"I'm too tired," James said. "And my ankle feels like it's on fire. I need a rest, I can't climb up there and clear out an apartment with you. Plus -"

"That's fine." Charlie put on his best reassuring voice. "I'll clear out an apartment for us to hide in for a bit: catch our breath. You just rest here."

James closed his eyes for a second and mumbled some arguments but ultimately he resigned to the plan with a sad nod. "Just be safe Charlie."

"I'm always safe."

Charlie left James and ascended the fire escape, to a second floor window, trying it to see if it would open. Luckily, it must've been left unlocked as it slid open with no problem and he stealthily climbed in, planting his dirty shoes on the perfect white carpet.

He listened out for any sounds that could indicate an undead presence in the apartment. He couldn't hear anything which was a good sign but wasn't enough for him to decide on staying yet. He had to clear this place fully.

A quick scan of the room revealed that it was clearly owned by someone with money, judging by the amount of wine bottles on display in a cabinet. Charlie ventured deeper into the room, his shoes leaving wet and muddy footprints. The perfect white carpet was no longer perfect; nor white for that matter.

He searched the apartment until satisfied there wasn't any of the undead lurking in a dark corner, before making his way back towards the window. Before he could however, something on top of the wine cabinet caught his eye: a shotgun.

Sure, it might be a display piece, or; it could be a very functional and useful weapon. Charlie looked around the apartment once more, this time to find something to stand on. In the bespoke kitchen was a singular chair sat at a table. He dragged it to the cabinet and climbed upon it, reaching atop the wooden frame for the gun.