The Zombie Apocalypse with MCR (Complete)

Avoidable Tragedies

A week later, and Gerard predicts that it's very early May. I'm not sure of the individual days, but the guys have been tracking the months as best they can. From the warming weather and the copious amounts of insects populating the back field, Gerard and Ray predict that summer will soon be upon us. In British terms, it means we might see one or two days of sunshine in amongst the rain and clouds.

The days are certainly getting warmer, and the sun takes its time to set in the evenings.

Frank and I settle back into a casual friendship. There's no mention of the shower incident, and slowly, Alissa calms down about it. The days pass quietly.

Mark gets more insistent about doing a supply run. He's out of games, and that's all he really has to pass the time. Finally, I concede and tell him we'll go out the next morning. My ribs are feeling much better after almost four weeks, so I feel confident enough to venture out with someone in tow.

I only ventured out with Frank to prove a point. I'd also known he'd pull his weight if there'd been a fight.

"Can I come with you tomorrow?" Frank asks while we're washing up after dinner.

"With Mark and I?" I arch an eyebrow, sceptical.

He shrugs, and hands me a bubbly plate to dry. "I need a few things."

I agree without argument. At least I know I'll have one useful person watching my back. Natalie catches me on the upstairs landing that evening, looking nervous.

"Can I come with you tomorrow?" She asks.

I blink, surprised at all these offers. No one has ever shown any eagerness to head out into the world.

"Sure." I say easily, "Uh... Frank is coming too."

Her mouth tightens, and her eyes narrow. I can tell she's tempted to rescind her request, but her narrow shoulders stiffen. She steels herself.

"No problem." But the words slither from between gritted teeth.

So the next morning I dodge my workout with Ray, and gather the party in the entrance hallway. Mark is yawning and groggy. Natalie is tense and agitated. Frank is at ease.

"Shotgun!" Mark yells.

I smother my grin as I catch sight of Frank and Natalie's immediate, identical grimace. I order Pandora into the backseat with them, so with her as a physical barrier it might stave off some of the animosity.

"I need a serious shop, Nevaeh." Mark says as he shuffles the CDs haphazardly. "Not some fucking supermarket. I need a proper game shop."

Sighing, I start the car and do as I'm told. The best way to shut him up is by catering to him.

The drive is a quiet one. There's absolute silence from the backseat, except from Pandora's occasional grumblings. I notice that neither Frank nor Nat are petting her; they can't even share that task civilly. Only Mark is entirely unburdened, singing along to the stereo.

Finally, I aim the car into a multi-storey car park, which leads directly into a mall. We won't find any food, but plenty of entertainment.

"You can carry the duffel." I throw the empty bag to Mark, who balks. "You wanted the trip, you carry the shit."

He grumbles, but throws it over his shoulder. Pandora rushes over, looking up as if to say 'neither of them scratched me the whole way!' Grinning, I tug on her ears.

I hand a baseball bat to Frank, who takes it with a nod. For Nat, a holster around her hips for a handgun, and a small axe that can be carried in one hand.