Living After: Book Two

Chapter Sixteen: Troy

  "What do you hunt out this way so far from the trees," Blake asked, "Boars?"
  "Yep," Troy smiled and shaded his eyes from the midday sun, "If there are any left out here. It's been awhile. And they usually only come out at night, we might be wasting our time." That part was the truth but he didn't care, Troy felt alive walking through the cool air with Blake on their hunt. His head didn't hurt anymore. He felt positive for once, the settlement had even grown on him in the last few days. Nick was waiting for him there, protecting their home.
  Blake inspected a bright blue feather on his arrow, "You know, my little sister used to love pigs. Fat chubby bastards were her favorite animal." Well, he's cheerful today, Troy thought sarcastically. He had become friends with Blake over the past few weeks, the guy he had once almost fought for calling Nick his boyfriend.
  How funny that all seemed now.
  "Huh, that complicates things doesn't it," Troy replied, trying to seem genuinely interested, "Jake and I never really grew attached to those types of animals, living on a farm like the Ranch," he sighed, feeling a bit nostalgic at the mention of his brother. He also shuddered at the thought of things he had done to animals in the past, residual memories Troy had mostly forced away. Sometimes they came out to haunt him, the old Troy trying to spook the new Troy's mind. He couldn't recognize the horror that lived inside of his memory.
  Blake shrugged, "Makes sense." He paused and pulled the bow from his shoulder, readied it, and crept down behind some shrub in front of them. Troy wondered what Blake had his eye one, he didn't see any movement ahead.
  "What is it?" he whispered to Blake, who was now focusing his arrow in on something small.
  "Jackrabbit -"
  "Just what everyone wants, more bunny meat - fucking tasty," Troy whispered. Sarcasm had been a long running joke between the two of them lately. Picking on each other like brothers might. The rabbit meat was awful, but he wasn't actually  complaining. Only giving Blake shit.
  Blake shot Troy a dumb look and rolled his eyes, "Eat canned fruit then, cupcake." Troy knew he was kidding, and laughed at Blake's stupid jab. His friend released a hand effortlessly, the arrow shot a few yards across terrain and straight into the unaware victim. "That's a fat one," Blake said, looking proud of his kill, "I'll grab it."
  Blake ran out into the open area and grabbed the bunny, tying it's limp body to his pack. Troy watched him with a pistol in his hands, then glanced down at his watch out of habit. Not like it worked or anything.
  Everyone had moments when they let their mind cool down to forget about things, even in the middle of the day, just for a split second. After surviving years in the apocalypse it was almost routine killing an infected, something that felt mandatory. Troy knew better than to let his mind wander outside of the gates, but today something would catch him off guard. He was crouched behind the bush still awaiting Blake, tracing Nick's name in the red clay dirt.
  Blake sped up, his eyes widening suddenly and hollered his name, "Hey Otto - there's a walker behind - Holy  shit, Troy!" Blake took off towards him and slipped, almost making it the last few strides before falling over a rock in the dirt. Troy heard Blake wince and cuss at himself.
  Thud. 
  As Troy looked up to process what Blake had said, he felt a large body trip and fall onto his backside. A squirming, smelly dead one. He tried to pull out from under it's weight with no luck, the thing was chomping and grabbing with it's rotted limbs. He flipped onto his back, now wrestling with the dead man in the dirt, where he had just been sitting peacefully a few moments ago. Troy's gun had been knocked from his hand in the chaos. Troy was known for being able to protect himself with now help, but today was different. He tried to get his friend's attention, "Blake, can I get a little help - Blake!"
  "Stop moving!" Blake's voice still sounded far away, "I don't want to shoot you -"
  "Fuck," Troy spat out under his breath. He let go of the nasty head with one hand and felt for his gun, for anything. The thing bent it's head down, pushing against the strength of Troy, craving to prey on him. His hand couldn't find a weapon and the rotter had him pinned down. The clouded eyes in front of him brought flashbacks of the depot.
  Something whirled through the air and stuck the infected in it's face. Troy was sprayed with blood, paralyzed in fear as the body fell on top of him. Blake hobbled over to his side, looking him over frantically, "I'm so sorry - I cut my leg," he sat down next to Troy and rolled the dead one off of his body. Troy instantly felt relief without the dead weight on him.
  "It's - it's okay," Troy stuttered and sat up, "You got him."
  "Did he get you?"
  Troy shook his head, "No." He didn't want to speak, feeling stunned from the close encounter. He felt ashamed for not checking their surroundings. Troy glanced over at Blake, who's denim jeans had soaked in blood towards his shoe. "How bad did you cut yourself? Let's go back -"
  Blake lifted his pant leg and winced, "I need to tie something around it. Sharp fucking rocks -"
  "Hold on," Troy stood up and ripped the hem of his t-shirt into a strip. He tied it above Blake's gash and helped him up off the ground. The bunny would have to do for now, they had plenty of food anyways. With one glance at the sneaky dead one that lay defeated on the ground, Troy took Blake's pack for him and they started their journey back.

  It wasn't easy walking wounded, Blake needed an arm to lean on eventually. His lower leg was throbbing and painful within the hour it took to get back. They could see the gates of the ranch, and the guards. Troy laughed under his breath, walking briskly towards camp, "Nick's gonna have a freak out when I walk in covered with blood."
  "At least you don't have to deal with Tasha and  Elyza," Blake smiled, "I'm in trouble. Sheesh -"
  "Does that hurt?"
  "Sure it does, but I've had worse," Blake said, "Elyza will fix it. She fixes everything."
  Troy waved his arms to the guards on patrol, from a distance it looked like Nick and Alicia. They carried on down the road to home. He turned to look at Blake, "Tasha moved into your room."
  Blake seemed bashful, "Yeah, she didn't really have a set room anyways.... We figured, why wait? You know? The dead could take us out tomorrow, no sense in hiding how you feel."
  "Mhmm," Troy smiled, feeling himself thinking of Nick, "I know."

  As they arrived at the gates, Nick ran as fast as his legs could bring him out to meet the duo. It reminded Troy of watching Nick run towards his family at the Ranch, and now, Troy was a part of that family. He rushed Troy with questions, pushing his muddy blonde hair back nervously, "Baby, are you bit? Is he okay? Is that Blake's blood -"
  "We're fine," Troy assured him, "Blake just cut his leg, might need a few stitches. Easy fix." Troy still felt his face flush red in flattery as Nick called him anything other than his name.
  Alicia had taken over for Troy, helping Blake in the gates, "Let's get you to medical, B."
  "Lyza's gonna kill me," Blake sighed, "What's the kid doing -"
  The kid ? Troy craned his head around Nick to peak at the medical tent, there was a small girl hovering Elyza. It must have been Molly, one of the new additions to camp. He had completely forgotten there were two children here; probably because interacting with kids terrified him. Nick was the complete opposite, he effortlessly made friends with everyone. Children clung to him, his energy was so comforting. He quickly became a big-brother figure to any youth they encountered. Troy felt Nick's hand on his side bringing him back to focus.
  "Let's go clean you up, yeah? Tell me what happened?" His hand slipped under Troy's ripped shirt as he pulled him in closer for a kiss in the middle of the settlement, not giving a damn.
  "Sure," Troy looked down at Nick's eyes in the sun. Golden embers of red brown and deep colored pathways entrancing them. With Nick by his side, Troy would always be taken care of, even if he didn't need help; Nick was there to offer it anyway.


  "You aren't scared of judgment from the newbies?" Troy asked him as they walked up their winding staircase, "You don't think they'll make fun of us or anything -"
  Nick looked back at him, puzzled and confused, "Troy, they're adults. This won't be like before - I won't let anyone poke fun at you. They're all kind and they don't give a damn about our love life. They just want to survive. Those kids, what they did to you before when you were younger .... Listen, that was wrong and I'm so sorry no one helped you. It's different now."
  Troy felt his gut fall with nerves, feeling silly for even worrying that out loud. He knew Nick would protect him, protect what they had together. He just couldn't move past some of the reminders of his time before that came to haunt anytime they wanted.
  Their room was cool from having the window opened all morning. Troy cleaned blood off of his face and hands, while Nick grabbed them food. He awaited his return in the chair by their window. Troy looked outside at the medical tent, Blake was sitting on the bench in front of it showing Tasha his leg. The little girl, Molly, was still chatting with Elyza. Alicia watched them mingle in admiration. Happy memories overflowed this place already, their new home. But Troy's mind wandered to his brother, of their past at the Ranch.
  One thing he dreamt of changing was his brother's death. He had caused it, after all, and he would give just about anything to go back. Nick told him he shouldn't dwell there, that he had the same wishes for Gloria. They couldn't change a thing that had happened to them...


  Troy had been up for days, two days and two nights. He could remember sneaking into his old house on the Ranch last night, but he wasn't sure how he had gotten back here in the field. All he could feel was the pressure of dirt beneath his knees, the trigger of a large rocket launcher in his hands. He heard Jake and Nick's voices around him, but the voices inside of his own head were louder, and much clearer than their own.
  He felt his body say some bullshit, mumbling insanity, and then: "Jake was all-everything."
  Jealousy, anger, anxiety, grief, guilt, loss of power, lack of will - his mind wandered.
  Nick was trying to calm him, save him from himself. Why was he always trying to save him?
  He heard Jake threatening him, but his energy was focused on the hoard. Troy's vision blurred even more as he tried to hear the conversation around him. Jake had pinned him down.
  "I swear on Dad's grave I'll shoot you. I'll kill you brother, I will."
  "Jake, stop, okay? We can still beat them back to the ranch."
  Arguing, more arguing. Troy wanted Jake to shoot him, he wanted to plead out loud for him to end this consistent suffering. He couldn't say the words aloud, even in this state: he wouldn't surrender. Nick tried to weigh options, find a way out, classic Nick.
  Troy's spat more nonsense, "You face the monsters or you die in the wasteland."
  The monster was his self, and he couldn't bare facing it anymore.
  He wanted to annihilate every negative thought and feeling he had ever had, all stemming from the ranch, that God forsaken place. Troy numbly listened to Jake tell Nick about the animals he had tortured and killed as a child. "I still protected you," Jake said.
  I was a child, his brain wanted to yell, no one truly protected me, no one told me not to do those things, those awful, awful things. Troy's eyes welled with tears but the hatred overpowered the emotion. More nonsense was said about killing one another and Jake raised his weapon, ready to fire on his baby brother. Nick knocked Jake off of Troy, causing him to fall down the hill near a rotter.
  That was when Troy snapped out of his manic state, briefly.
  But it was already too late.
  Jake's arm was bit, just above the wrist. A wide, deep bite.
  "Hold out his arm!"
  "Nick -" The gears, the one's that held onto good, the gears in Troy's head spun.
  "Hold out his goddamn arm!" Nick ordered, and he surrendered.
  Troy watched Nick with droopy, ashamed eyes as he forced a machete on his brother's arm.
  Jake never woke up, he bled out in his baby brother's arms.
  He remembered how that felt, seeing the one person who had ever believed in him dead on the ground. Troy remembered the horror of knowing he would never bury his body. His brother was smart, sophisticated, he had the entire world ahead of him before the turn. Every jealous, angry thing Troy had said to Jake ran through his mind. Troy recalled digging the dirt with his hands.
  "There's no time. Gotta leave him," Nick had said. In that soft toned voice, the one that told him everything would be okay. The voice that was hard on Troy if he needed it, yelling advice or offering comfort with blunt truth.
  The voice that kept Troy alive. The voice that silenced all others in his mind.
  Nick's voice.


  "I brought you tea," Nick popped in the door with a sandwich and a warm cup for Troy, "You cleaned up without me, what a pity." He winked and shut the door behind him, very obviously gazing at Troy as he sat by the window. A light, airy euphoria swept over Troy as he leisurely looked over at Nick. He suddenly wanted him, more than he ever had before. Thinking on things had made Troy flustered, anxious to show his passion for him. The lengths Nick had gone to protect Troy, the things he had sacrificed, all had been for him.
  "So what happened? You seemed really shaken up. Blake is all stitched up, I ran into Alicia -"
  "It was just the dead," Troy cut him off. He took his watch off and pulled the fresh, deep red shirt he wore off over his shoulders. Nick watched him with wide eyes all along. Troy stood in the middle of their room and sipped at his tea, "Just one of them actually. Caught me off guard, kinda like you keep doing with those looks of yours."
  "Looks of mine?" Nick laughed and his eyes found Troy's chiseled stomach.
  Troy smirked, feeling shy, "You're a sight for sore eyes, Nicky."
  "Psh," he scoffed at him, Nick looked away at the wall, "I'm nothing special, never have been."
  Troy put the now empty cup down, and walked over to him, wrapping Nick into a hug, "You are everything that is special in this world Nicholas Clark. Though you're awfully  humble."
  He felt Nick laugh at his compliment, rattling in his arms and burying his face in Troy's chest. Troy pulled his small framed face up to his and kissed Nick, passionately. As if it were the first time again. Nick's eyes opened and he pulled away, "What was that for?"
  "For - I don't know, for everything," Troy sighed, "Nick you saved me. I'm alive because of you." He put his hands on each side of Nick's face, taking in every detail of his features. Emotional things, talks like this made Troy nervous, but Nick was full of emotions. He had taught Troy to let go of that fear, that fear of showing your true self. Troy wondered if he would even be alive if his father knew who he had really been their whole lives: a gay man. Jeremiah would have lost his shit, he may have even killed Troy by accident in a bout of rage.
  Racism, bigotry, Troy felt blessed to of left that behind. He always knew it was wrong anyway.
  He never had to suffer at the hands of those monstrous men, ever again.
  Nick was swaying in his arms now, just standing there with him, letting the words soak in. Comfort and acceptance was something everyone deserved. No matter who they had been. He took a breathe and looked up at him with big brown eyes, "You're my best friend Troy."
  "I love you," Troy never imagined saying that to anyone. Saying it now seemed like the truest thing he had ever done, the easiest thing he had ever done. He kissed Nick's forehead and pulled him over to their bed.
  The rest of the world could wait.