Stay Alive --Hamilton Apocalypse AU--

.:9:.

John

Life was, to say the least, perfect for Laurens before the end of the world. He had a year or two of perfection between moving out and the end of the world. He was impatient half the time, and couldn't stand to wait in lines for things he needed to survive, but he knew that his life couldn't be better then. Knowing that made it easier to realize when things were wrong.

The day everything went to hell didn't seem normal to him at all. News stations were playing clips of flaming cars and limp-jogging people that were just screaming as they raced toward police officers. It was uncomfortable to watch but he also couldn't look away. Like driving by a wrecked car. It's a horrible tragedy, but somehow, you find yourself slowing down to get a better look, almost eager to burn the image into your mind.

Waiting in line to fill his car with gas gave John the perfect opportunity to watch a warning label come onto the mini T.V. behind the clerk. It was a warning to stock up on emergency supplies, first aid kits, and water, and wait inside. For what, he had no clue, but he didn't want to find out. The reporter said something about Martial Law, but John couldn't hear it over the sounds of screams outside.

His head snapped just in time to see a woman fall out of the front seat of her car and scoot away, panicked. Just after her, a rabid teenager crawled out, screaming and growling the whole way. Laurens only looked away when the child attacked the woman and the screaming intensified until coming to an abrupt stop.

The inside of the shop was immediate chaos. People were cowering away from the doors, shrieking when the rabid child ran up and started pounding the glass. The blood dripping from her face was horrifying and John realized that life was about to get a lot less perfect. He was the only one not cowering, and he didn't know why. He wanted to run, to get back home and warn his friends, but he was frozen in his place, just staring at the monster in front of him.

A car running off the road is what snapped him out of his trance. He stepped back, then, realizing he could move again, grabbed a couple cases of water and headed for the back exit. He ran at full speed as best he could, dropping the boxes into his front seat and driving his car around to the back exit to apparently rob the gas station. He'd seen enough apocalyptic movies to know he wanted as much water as he could get. The other patrons followed his lead, slowly bringing themselves to ignore and avoid the child.

As soon as he figured he had enough supplies, he jumped in the driver's seat and drove off without paying a dime. He also figured that, given the circumstances, the cashier wouldn't mind too much.

Driving was somehow much, much worse on the way home than when he left. He was steering out of the way of crashed cars and swerving to avoid hitting the rabid citizens that ran into the road. As soon as he was home, he left his car and ran into the building and into his apartment, ignoring each one of his neighbors as he did. Surprisingly, his apartment was so untouched that both of his roommates stared at him in shock when he ran in and blocked the door with his body, chest heaving and breathing ragged.

"So," Lafayette said slowly, "how was the trip?"

"We need to leave," he said quickly. "Or we need to -- I don't know, do something? I don't know, but it's not safe out there anymore and -- "

"Hey, calm down," Hercules said, coming over from the kitchen. "What happened?"

The only response he got was a large slam on the door from the hallway. Then another when they all stared, mortified, at each other.

"Get a knife," John whispered as he shifted his weight to hold the door better.

"What? Why?" John said. He took an uneasy step back.

"A knife!"

Hercules obeyed. He ran to the kitchen and came back with the biggest knife the three owned. Lafayette stood terrified and confused to the side while Hercules held the knife and John counted down silently until he jumped away from the door. As soon as he did, it flew open and their neighbor, not necessarily friend, fell through and to the floor.

He scrambled up and scanned the room. "What the hell is going on out there?!" he demanded, as though anybody in the room had more to do it with it than he did.

Mulligan lowered his knife. "We don't know, Burr," he muttered. "Things were fine when Laf went to go get gas and now. . ." he trailed off. He didn't even know what was going on. He hadn't been outside at all and he hadn't bothered to look out a window.

John went over and turned on the television, hoping that the news might be more help than the college-aged kids.

The warnings that John got from earlier turned into orders. There was something mentioned about martial law being certain, but before the reporters could finish, the cameras cut out. A cheery "technical difficulties" cartoon character came on and, to Laurens, it almost looked sarcastic; smiling and taunting them in his own happy little world while some sort of epidemic wiped out the real world.

Well, fuck that guy, John thought. He looked at his friends again, this time with more confidence than before. Everything after that led up to him laying on his back on the floor of some strangers' house like it was normal. He didn't know if the girls and their prisoners were trying to kill him and his friends, but he had an unspoken promise to his group to steer them right. No pressure.

"Hey," someone whispered next to him. "You awake?" 

Bilingual. Or whatever his actual name was. John figured he was talking to a part of his own group, so he stayed quiet until the other man nudged his shoulder. 

"What?" John snapped quietly.

"Go to the kitchen," he demanded. Then he got up and went into the other room. John gave it a second or two of thought and decided that there wasn't much Bilingual could do without waking everyone else up. 

"What?" John asked again when he was in the kitchen. 

"Sorry about knocking you in the head."

"It's fine. Is that it?" Laurens was more than eager to go back to trying and failing to go to sleep. 

"No." He held out his hand. "Alexander."

"You. . . Want to make introductions in the middle of the night?" 

Alexander shrugged, still with his hand out. "Neither of us were sleeping. And I heard you talking with your people earlier, I know you're trying to stay as long as you can to get to my city. Might as well get to know you, at least." 

Hesitantly, John answered and shook the other's hand. 

"So, tell me the truth here," John said. "The city. It really exists? Or are you just trying to get us all killed?"

"Even if I wanted to, Washington wouldn't let me kill you," Alexander said as though Laurens knew exactly who he was talking about. "No, it does exist. It's in the southern coastal states." 

Southern coastal. That hit a nerve. "Do you know specifically what state?"

"One of the Carolinas." 

And just like that, John started to debate whether or not it was even worth it to stay with the other group. Alexander kept talking about it, describing what he knew about it, but John's promise to his friends (and his own personal history) almost came above it. He'd have to think about it more but maybe it wasn't worth going home?