The Last Colony

Part 3

After sharing a bag of chips and rationing Chica to a small cup of dog food, they decided to wind down for the night. These things always got more active as the sun went down. They never slept but were pretty docile in the daytime. However, at night they were far more aggressive and perceptive to things that made noise. Mark cuddled up with Chica on the far mattress, keeping Becky very close to him. Chica chewed on one of her soft silent toys, conditioned to this new way they were living. She slept when they slept and eat only when they ate. She was even back to pee pads as a means for her to go to the bathroom. He couldn't risk her making noise outside. Mark stroked her soft fur, mostly to calm himself as a loud high-pitched squeal sounded off outside. On the other side of the room, Sean jerked upright to listen, before telling Mark nervously. "The Licker is back..." Mark nodded, saying softly out of habit. "Ya... He seems to like this neighborhood. Maybe he infected that dog we saw earlier." Sean wrapped his arms around his legs, shakily mumbling out. "Do you ever think that we are all that is left?"

Mark rose up slightly on his elbow, answering honestly. "No. If we've managed to hide this long, then so have others." Sean nodded grimly, staring blankly at his sneakers. Mark wanted to comfort him and give him hope... but what could he say? Nothing would truly lift Sean's spirit. Not when they both knew about as much as the other. Sean eventually laid down facing the wall. Even though Sean tried to hide it, Mark could hear him crying softly. Mark's eyes started to water too thinking about his own family. He'd give anything to know if they were ok. Holding his tears back though, he simply snuggled with Chica. Outside, he could faintly hear trashcans being knocked over and glass smashing across the street. He hated nighttime. It was hard to sleep when your body was terrified that something would get into the house. Someone screamed across the street, causing both Mark and Sean to bolt upright. Chica let out a soft whine in response. The screams only lasted a short time, before a Licker's squeal broke out and everything fell silent again.

Chica laid her head back down, whimpering softly. Mark pet her back to sooth her, his eyes drifting to Sean. Sean was shaking and staring at Mark's bowie knife with tears running down his cheeks. Mark reached out with his free hand to touch Sean's cheek lightly. Sean jerked his head away, his watery eyes locking with Mark's. The fear in Sean's watery blue eyes was almost unbearable. Mark knew Sean once suffered from depression. Staring into his eyes, he comforted Sean like a parent trying to sooth a scared child. "It's ok. We're ok." More silent tears ran down Sean's cheeks, before he scooted closer to hug him tightly. Mark hugged Sean back, trying to stay strong. Both Chica and Sean needed him to keep it together. Sean shook in his arms, while Mark tried to think of something to distract him. He thought about playing a board game by the lantern light. When a glass smashed from somewhere in his house! Chica whirled around to growl, causing Mark to quickly abandon Sean to jump on her.

Pinning her down to the mattress, he clamped her mouth shut. Sean grabbed his bat and quickly shut off the lantern. Sending the room into a pitch-black darkness. In the hall, something approached slowly with heavy footfalls. Low growls and bubbling sounds followed, growing ever louder as it reached the door. A Spitter. Mark soothed Chica to keep her calm, while keeping his firm grip on her muzzle. The room was as soundproof as it could be for things outside the house... but inside? Something struck the door hard enough to make the door rattle on its hinges. Chica squirmed, trying to get free. Mark held her in a death grip, his eyes on the darkness where the door was. Something brushed menacingly over the door. Was it trying to listen for a reason to bust inside? Mark held his breath. After a long pause, the Spitter sneezed and moved off. Continuing along down the hall. Even after it moved away, Mark didn't move or release Chica. It could easily come back. He was almost thankful to hear a distant screech and distorted barking.

The Spitter thundered quickly back down the hall, letting out sickening sloshing sounds as it raced back out of the house. Mark waited about five minutes after he had heard it walk over crunching glass, before finally releasing Chica. Chica snorted, standing up to shake her body and scratch her ear. Mark's muscles burned as he finally relaxed them and exhaled in relief. That was the closest encounter they had endured in a while. He blamed the person across the street a bit. Their capture had put the entire hoard around the neighborhood on edge. They'd be searching more closely tonight. In the darkness, Sean sought him out to sit next to him. Mark felt blindly up Sean's arm to his shoulder, gripping it firmly. It was a strong comfort to know that Sean was here with him. Sean's hands sought out his torso, sliding up his chest to his shoulders. Mark let him do it, under the impression that he was going to hug him again. Instead, Sean cupped his jaw in his shaking hands and brought his lips to his. Mark's whole body tensed back up. His arm weakly pushing out across Sean's chest as a hint for him to stop.