The Second Strain

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Everything was still as Roone Batair silently trekked along the coastline, eyes scanning for anything interesting at all.

Nothing moved, as usual.

Watch shifts were always like this- still. There would occasionally be a small bit of wind from the coast that ruffled Roone's dark hair-- creating the most movement he'd seen in the few hours he'd been patrolling his assigned area.

He didn't even know why Kira still got up his ass about watch shifts. They had fences, traps, and everything under the sun that could protect them if need be (Roone was especially proud of the underwater ones; they were his babies).

His world had been peaceful for about four years; the last time anyone on New Apriga had seen an Infected. The sightings ranged from rare to none regardless-- seeing as New Apriga was an island in the middle of the ocean, millions of miles away from any form of mainland. The ocean kept them safe; so that's where they resided. There were nine of them that he knew; plus a few stragglers picked up as the years went on.

Through the years of peace, everyone had self defense training and knew how to use a variety of weapons of their choice. Regardless, Kira would continue to push watch shifts for as long as he had to, ever paranoid. It wasn't as if there was a legitimate reason anymore, the only way on or off the island was a couple of old boats that were used for the occasional fishing trip-- and again, no sightings for years.

Roone glanced over at the boats as he passed them. They were the typical fishing type boats-- Valhalla 41s, if he remembered correctly-- a popular design from a few years back. They weren't much use now. Aside from Grei, all other teams had stopped going out to search for any more survivors about three years ago.

If they weren't in New Apriga, they didn't want to be-- or they were dead. Neither was a particularly good option in Roone's personal opinion.

Bored out of his mind, Roone groaned internally as he passed by yet another wall of trees that surrounded the west side of their base. Every rustle of said trees was familiar, every bird call well known, and it wasn't as if-

Roone snapped out of his thoughts as he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. He stiffened and turned, battle mode instincts kicking in as he glared at the patch of trees that now stood in front of him. His left hand went to his sheathed hunting knife that hung off his belt on his left side. Then, rolling his eyes, Roone quickly removed his canteen from where it hung satchel- like over his shoulders; throwing it into the branches of a particular tree off to his left.

There was the obligatory rustle of leaves before a figure, who had previously been clutching the branch of said tree by the looks of how they fell, landed with a thud in front of him.

"Ow, fuck."

Clearly the canteen had hit its target. Roone felt his muscles relaxing as he glared at the young man that now lay splayed out in front of him, rubbing his arm. West.

"Hey Roone, how's it hanging?" The brunette shifted his head to look at Roone clearly, showcasing his blue eyes clearly ripe with mischief. "Get it? Hanging?"

"What the hell were you doing?" Roone grumbled. West just stared up at him with a giant snarky grin plastered on his face; wavering slightly at the look on Roone's face.

"Come on, I waste my best material on you. I was hanging from a tree. Hanging." West pressed. Resting his right hand on his forehead, Roone focused his glare on West again. "Just because this is a typical watch shift doesn't mean that I need to be pestered with your bullshit. Honestly, it's hard to believe you're older than me sometimes."

"But you love me for it." West grinned, shifting to a cross legged sitting position. If it wasn't for the leg holster that held his pistol on his right thigh and his small watch- shift pack, Roone wasn't sure if he could tell the difference between his brother and a six year old ready for snack time. "Just imagine how mind numbingly boring this shift would be without me." Roone rolled his eyes again, looking away from his brother to survey the surroundings he'd seen a thousand times.

"This isn't even your section."

West shrugged and stretched his arms. "Nothing's happening anyway." Roone sighed and rubbed at his temples, fighting the urge to grab his brother and push him into any part of the water that surrounded them.

"Just because nothing is happening at the moment doesn't mean that there isn't a possible chance."

"You say that every day, Roone, and literally nothing happens. You're starting to sound like an echo of Kira. Now all you need is three years in the army and an English degree." West laughed with a roll of his eyes.

"Right." Roone scoffed and turned to keep walking his route; of which he only had for about twenty more minutes before someone would come to replace him. Roone waved back at West, mentally noting to get him back for his previous stupid stunt as soon as possible. Off shift, of course.

The sound that made up West faded into the distance as he too- Roone noted with relief- made his way back to his assigned watch section. Now, everything was back to the mind- numbing stillness of what it was before.

Roone had only returned to surveying his path for five minutes when he again was distracted. He'd just passed the last bit of trees before a small break, when a slow shuffling sound caught his attention.

It couldn't be West again, could it? Sure, West had a stupid amount of energy and didn't quite know when to stop a joke (which, coincidentally, had landed him on the watch shift this time) He swore he was getting better.

It was not West.

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