Survival - a Hat Films fanfiction

3 - Trott

As it turns out, Ross, Trott and Smith are the only ones living in the farmhouse. You're relieved when Trott tells you this - it's hard enough acclimatizing yourself to the three of them, let alone a whole big group.

After the conversation in the kitchen, Ross goes outside to get food from the orchard nearby - you would have offered to go with him, but you doubt you'll be much help with your injured arm - and Smith goes upstairs to do God knows what. Brood, perhaps.

Trott stays seated, pulling a battered old piece of paper out from his jeans pocket and beginning to unfold it across the table. Not wanting to seem awkward and just stand around watching him, you make yourself over to the kitchen area. Eventually, you find the glasses cupboard - you take two and fill them with water from the sink, taking your time on the walk back to him. 

"Thanks, mate," Trott says distractedly as you place the glass beside him. The paper, as it turns out, is a map, much bigger and more detailed than the one Ross was looking at earlier. It's covered in pencil markings and notes.

"No problem." You hesitate. "Will Ross be okay on his own out there?"

"Yeah, he'll be fine. We've explored the area and there's no zombies for a mile or so. And besides, he's a big boik." Trott grins at you wryly, blond hair flopping over his forehead. "He can take care of himself."

You can't help but choke out a laugh at that, the ridiculousness of it easing the tension in the room somewhat. Trott's attention turns back to the map.

You feel awfully redundant here - all three of them (you're assuming Smith is working on something upstairs) are busy doing something to aid the effort, and here you are, getting cups of water and standing around. 

"Is there anything I can do to help?" you ask finally.

Trott looks up at you, almost in surprise at your willingness. "Well..." He glances down at his map again and twiddles with the pencil in his left hand. "You could help me with route-planning if you want."

"Sure." You sit in the seat next to him, where Smith had sat, starting to regret your choice. Maybe you should have just gone back into the living room after all - you've no experience with maps, so your level of assistance to Trott is very limited. But then again, you can't just sit around doing nothing while the rest do all the work; that's hardly going to convince them you're a worthy survivor, as Ross called you. 

"So." Trott traces his finger along a road until he gets to a group of fields. "This is where we are right now." He points at a section beside a forest - probably where Ross is right now. The area has been circled, with numbers next to it - it takes you a few moments to realize it's a date, probably the day they arrived. You're surprised they've been keeping track of dates - you'd given up within the first week, deeming it useless. For all you know, it's Christmas Day.

"We're looking for a quick, safe route to and then through this town," Trott continues, "preferably avoiding any densely populated areas, and a place to stay near to a food source."

"Like a farm," you guess. "Or a supermarket."

He grins slightly. "Exactly."

You and Trott work together better than either of you expected. You recognize the town as Chippenham, which you visited a while ago, so you're able to provide Trott with details of the more industrial areas and buildings. Trott scrawls notes across the map in loopy, artistic handwriting - he's left handed, you note - and circles the places that you pick out to be useful.

By the end of the hour, you've got a clear route through the countryside and into the town and have settled on an area to stay in. You can't help but feel proud that you've actually contributed, and relieved that you haven't turned out to be useless to Trott after all.

Trott's eyes sweep across the map one last time, following the trail he's marked out, and then he looks up and smiles, brown eyes glinting.

"Perfect," he says. "Thanks for the help."

"No problem." You return the smile faintly, feeling slightly heady for some reason. You glance back down at the map to avoid eye contact with him, eyes tracing paths and markings. You notice a bold circle around a small area in Bristol, not far from your work. That is, where you used to work.

"That's our old office," Trott says, noticing your line of sight. "We - Ross, Smith and me - used to work there before... this happened."

"What did you do before this?" you say. "If you don't mind me asking."

He smiles sadly. "It's hard to explain really. It's stupid."

"Oh, go on," you encourage him. "I won't judge." What job could possibly be that embarrassing? Were they fucking porn stars or something? 

Trott shakes his head at himself. "It's - it's a video production thing," he settles with. 

Oh, shit. Maybe you weren't as far off as you thought. 

"Sounds interesting," you say. 

"It was," he says wistfully. "A dream job, really."

You suddenly realize how terrible it must be to have had an amazing job that you loved, like Trott did, and have it taken away from you overnight, making everything you've ever achieved redundant. In a way, you're lucky you weren't too attached to your job, so you didn't have much to lose, harsh as it sounds.

You follow along the river with your finger until you reach where the supermarket would have been. "This is where I worked," you say a little self-consciously - your job seems so inferior to whatever video production thing Trott worked in. Not that that matters now. 

Trott nods. "Crazy to think we worked so near each other but never bumped into each other."

"It is," you agree. 

He leans forward in his chair slightly. "Show me where you were staying before you came here."

He means the place where the zombies got in, but doesn't want to say it. You comply, looking for the road name and then following it along to the main road.

"About here," you say.

Trott's eyes dart between the circled area, where you are right now, and where you're pointing. "That's about twenty miles," he says eventually, looking up at you.

You frown. "No fucking way." You look again, following along the route you'd taken along the main road - and Trott's right. Meaning you essentially walked the distance of a marathon - with a heavy backpack, alone, injured, being chased by a horde of zombies. 

"That's - that's insane," you manage. 

He looks at you amusedly. "That's one way to put it, sunshine."

No wonder Ross had been so impressed.

As Trott begins to fold the map away, you catch a glimpse of an arrow on the right edge of the map in black marker, pointing to a place you guess isn't on the map. It immediately jumps out to you as important. You consider asking Trott about it, but reason to yourself that he must have refrained from telling you for a reason. He'd probably tell you in time.

You turn to Trott again, to find him looking directly at you, and it should have been unnerving, but it wasn't. 

He looks like he's going to say something. You wait, patiently.

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A/N: I literally haven't updated anything in ages, sorry everyone! Work and stuff's really got in the way of my writing. Anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter! More to come soon, if all goes to plan.