Calamity (discontinued)

III

"Wait, wait, wait." (Y/N) said. "Where're we going?"

"I dunno. We just, drive along." 

(Y/N) almost looked bewildered. "Drive al- what do you mean, 'drive along'? Are you aware of the  situation here? This is pretty much life or death!"

Seán walked past Y/N) into (their) small bedroom and crouched down to see under the bed. He saw a  transparent but tough-looking fanny pack. There were too many candy wrappers.  Conveniently, he did find a Kanken backpack with the zipper opened and one of the straps torn. It wasn't big enough for big supplies.

He walked over to where (Y/N) had been sitting and threw the backpack at (them). 

"Just put things in there. Then I'll drive us to my house and on the way I'll explain stuff." Seán said as he walked back to the bedroom.

"You don't have a license. How're you gonna drive?"

"It's not like anybody will be around to see me speeding around. Also you still don't know the way to my house and your car's GPS is disoriented." Seán called back.

He walked to the closet and opened it. He flipped the light switch that was on the wall on and could see what he was looking at. It was a walk-in closet, but there were more things than clothes in there. As a result, the only movement one could do in it was to walk forward and backward. 

Seán carefully shimmied past the shoeboxes and plastic containers and met himself with (Y/N)'s clothes. There was a semi-balanced variation of colors, there were more dark than light colors. And what seemed to be a bounty of hoodies and regular sweatshirts. He pulled three hangers with hoodies out and set them on a miniature ottoman next to him. 

Seán looked around more and found a plastic drawer with what looked to be pants inside. He pulled the top shelf out and found athletic pants and sweatpants. Then he pulled the bottom shelf and found boot-cut and skinny jeans. He took out the skinny jeans, particularly the ripped ones, and stacked them on the hoodies. 

Finally, with two fingers holding the hangers and the jeans under his arm, Seán carefully stepped out the closet. He shut the door with his foot and made his way to the living room area. (Y/N) was looking in a shoebox filled with construction-looking materials while sitting on the couch's armrest. The backpack (looking hollow, even while zipped up) was sitting next to (their) feet.

"Is there any reflective tape in there?" Seán asked, coming closer to see the box himself.

(Y/N) ran (their) hand around and caught on to something round. It was almost new red tape. The shiny hexagon pattern on it meant it was reflective. (They) took it out of the box and without looking at Seán put their arm out for him to take the tape.

"Thanks." he said to (them). Seán stepped his shoe on the Kanken backpack next to (Y/N)'s shoe.  

"Did you put anything in this? It's like touching a brand new backpack at the store."

(Y/N) put the lid back on the box. "Heh. You sound like you're parenting me."

"I wish I didn't," Seán said in response. He laid the hung clothes on the other side of the couch. Then he walked to the small kitchen next to the living area. He opened a drawer, looking for scissors. Finding a pair, he took them from the drawer. Then he proceeded to rip off strips of tape and tape them to the ends of the clothing.

When he had finished, he grabbed the backpack and opened it.

Inside was a Fiji water bottle and a wind-up flashlight.

Seán moved the two objects to the front pocket and shoved the clothing in the main compartment.

"(Y/N), where do you keep your knives?" He asked (them). (Y/N) raised their eyebrows and craned their neck to see what their friend was doing.

"Uh...in a stand on the...counter."

So Seán walked to the stand and grabbed the first 4 knives he saw. They were basic kitchen knives, but (Y/N) had much bigger ones in the higher part of the stand. He hastily opened and closed the drawers until he found a Ziplock box. 

"I don't think that'll do." (Y/N) muttered as Seán tore out the large-sized bag.

"Oh, trust me kid. This'll work."

"But what if the blade rips-" 

(They) were interrupted by a high-pitched alarm. A car alarm.

Seán took one look from the blinds and his ruler-styled grin faded.

"Not dealing with that, probably nothing."

He pulled the string to close the blinds as (Y/N) inquired what he saw.

"Just a man trying to open car doors. He looked limpy. And rather cold,"

Shaking, perhaps?

Seán continued in a calm, smooth voice. "It is kinda cold outside, isn't it?"

(Y/N) stared at him with a flat expression. "Cold enough that someone shivers yet you wear a short-sleeved shirt."

He glided his finger on the dust on the top of the TV. 

"It's an infected, isn't it?"

Seán sighed before peaking out the blinds again. The man must've been walking slower than he seemed. He was just walking to to the entrance.

"Yeeah. And he's walking. To the entrance of the building,"

(Y/N) facepalmed and dragged (their) hand down (their) face. "Shit. Now something's actually happening."

"Where're the stairs here?" Seán asked with a slightly nervous tone of voice.

"Next to the 20th apartment. So like, four doors down."

He plastered the widest and creepiest grin he could manage onto his face. "Well, thank goodness these fuckers have the intelligence to open a door and climb stairs."

With a sudden reaction (Y/N) rushed to the coffee table and pushed it to the door. (They) walked to the bathroom and yanked some shirts from the laundry basket. Then (they) crumpled the shirts and shoved them over the crack under the door. This was done with forced speed, and by the time the job was done (they) looked worn out.

"So they can't...see under the door." (They) whispered with a cough at the end.

Seán gazed at the bottom of the door and imagined a scraggly, pale finger appearing under it.

Then, the pair heard loud banging erupt from around them.. 

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

BangBangBang.

The horrific sound of what was a door being ripped from its hinge. A loud, bloodcurdling scream and a cry from a child. A loud grunt. Then, splats on (Y/N)'s apartment door.

Seán crouched down and reached his arm out to grab one of the shirts. He handled it, and found a medium-sized spot of red. Holding the shirt out for his friend to see, he threw it to them.

They heard a slam. It came from the apartment in front of them. 

"Mother of God! What the hell is that?!" A voice yelled.

"It's one of those human-zombie hybrids! Get the gun and shoot at it!" Another yelled in reply. 

A scream, followed by gunshots. Another scream, this time cut off abruptly.

(Y/N) was about to place the bloodied shirt back in its place. Until, (they) felt the floor near them creak. 

In the place where the shirt previous sat, was the shadow of a bare, red-hued foot.