Wanderer: I can’t do this alone. It hurts. I’m bringing in help… everyone, Eric Northman
Eric: Why am I here?
Wanderer: Because I need someone pretty to look at to distract me from rage. And I can’t have Daryl help me…
Eric: I see. *steeples fingers* What is in this for me?
Wanderer: Uh… I’m O+?
Eric: *arches eyebrow* Alright, then. Carry on.
Glenn gathered a few things from around the restaurant (fortune cookies, money that we later found out was no use keeping, and then we broke the legs off of a few chairs, hoping that would serve as a good weapon until we got real ones) and then we were off. We hopped in my truck, speeding off to the closest gun shop.
Wanderer: Wait a minute. He just about got eaten by his dad, and he’s just gonna grab some shit? And of all the shit to take, he grabs fucking fortune cookies? What about the knives in the kitchen?!
Eric: Are fortune cookies nutritious?
Wanderer: No. They taste like cardboard. If you’re lucky, and their homemade, they might be lightly flavored.
Eric: Hmm… and is this Glenn very strong? I know from experience that restaurant chairs are built to be sturdy.
Wanderer: Nope, he’s a skinny Asian kid. And the main character is a 120lb teenager.
Eric: Asians taste funny.
Wanderer: … okay, moving on.
The glass of the windows and doors had been busted in, so we assumed someone had already raided this place. We still stepped in, though, to search for anything that could be useful. There were only 3 more guns left and 4 boxes of rounds for each. But, on a wall to the side, we found some large hunting knifes. There were 6 so we split them evenly, 3 for each.
Wanderer: *eye twitch* STOP WITH THE NUMERALS! And none of this fucking matters! There wasn’t much left, you took what you could, and you LEFT!
Eric: I can hear your blood rushing through you. It is far more interesting than what’s going on in this fic.
Wanderer: *tries to calm down* Right. Um, thanks, I s’pose.
Glenn didn't know much about using guns and my dad had taught me to use them on our many hunting trips,
Wanderer: *snarl* Ain’t that convenient. You’ve got something in common with Daryl.
I ARE SPESHUL SNOWFLAKE: 8
so Glenn took one shotgun and I took the pistol and the rifle, ditching the chair legs.
Eric: Why do we care?
Wanderer: We don’t.
We ran back out to the truck with our spoils and narrowly avoided a few of the zombies that Glenn had nicknamed "walkers" that were leaking out onto the streets. In a few hours, Atlanta would be completely overrun.
Eric: Is it just me, or is this pandemic moving awfully fast?
Wanderer: It’s not just you. Apparently the entire city of Atlanta is going to be taken over before the military can even come in. No idea why there’s a tank in the middle of the road for Rick to hide in, if it spreads through the population like wildfire.
Eric: Perhaps the citizens are just too stupid to stay indoors. What a waste of perfectly nutritional blood, too.
Wanderer: … right, because that’s what matters.
Eric: Well, I certainly don’t care about the main character, or this Glenn kid.
Wanderer: Well, I care about the real Glenn, but not this weird one.
We made a quick stop by Glenn's house on the way to mine.
Wanderer: And, of course, since Glenn is neither the romantic interest, nor the main character, his preparations at home are unimportant.
When we got to my house, Glenn came in with me, guarding me since my parents had both been home.
Wanderer: Yeah, when you left for school. Are they both unemployed?
Glenn's mother had died when we were both very young and we had already seen his father today, so we knew his house was probably clear.
Eric: This sentence makes more sense if it was with the one about their going to Glenn’s house first.
GRAMMAR NAZI: 7
I was glad Glenn came in with me, because without him, I would've been dead.
Wanderer: Oh look, she can do foreshadowing.
Eric: I could easily arrange for her to be dead.
Wanderer: Please do.
Eric: *grins, baring his fangs*
I opened the door slowly, walking into the house. I didn't dare say a word. My parents might already be one of those things,
Wanderer: HOW?! THEY HAVEN’T FUCKING LEFT THE HOUSE. And if the door is shut, and there’s no obvious sign of forced entry, HOW DID THEY GET BITTEN/SCRATCHED?!
KNOW YOUR GODDAMN FANDOM: 2
I had accepted that on the way here.
Wanderer: Good for you.
But that didn't prepare me for actually seeing it.
Eric: She seems completely broken up about it.
Wanderer: I know. I can feel the sobs coming.
Eric: I’m so moved by her emotional pain, I’m about to cry.
My mom was standing in the kitchen, foot bent at an awkward angle with her back to us.
Wanderer: Any angle that your foot is bent is an awkward angle. Toes flex, and the ankle flexes. Feet BARELY curl up.
Her ear-length red hair was messy, which was odd for my mom. She couldn't stand being anything less than immaculate.
Wanderer: Yes, this fits in perfectly with allowing her daughter to steal two fresh-out-of-the-oven cookies for breakfast with a fucking paper towel.
Eric: Sookie prepares eggs and other things for breakfast. What kind of parent allows their child to have sweets for the most important meal of the day?
Wanderer: How do you know it’s the most important one? You don’t eat anymore.
Eric: I still watch the news and read, you know.
I ran forward, not registering the odd posture or the untidy hair,
Eric: She just speculated about how odd it was for her mother to be unkempt.
Wanderer: Yes, but see, this author is an idiot.
just happy to see my mom. I grabbed her shoulders and spun her around, hugging her before I could see her face.
Wanderer: YOU JUST TOLD US YOU ACCEPTED SHE MIGHT BE ONE OF THE UNDEAD. WHY ARE YOU HUGGING HER WITHOUT CHECKING?!
Eric: *tapping his finger against the chair to the rhythm of Wanderer’s heartbeat*
LOGIC FAIL: 6
Maybe if I had stopped to take two seconds to look at her, I wouldn't have almost died. But I didn't.
She groaned in my ear, and I thought that was it.
Eric: “And then they all died. The end.”
Wanderer: I love you.
Eric: … as flattering as that is, I can’t help but feel this is a little sudden.
Wanderer: Whatever. I wish you really could end the fic like this, though.
Eric: Me, too.
Wanderer: … but seriously, give up on Sookie. I’m more than available.
But Glenn yanked me out of her hands and stabbed straight into her forehead with the knife.
Eric: Do humans usually find it easy to stab their best friend’s mother in the head?
Wanderer: No, not really. Especially when they WOULDN’T BE ROTTING YET, and would look COMPLETELY NORMAL, except for any blood and the dead eyes.
Eric: That’s what I thought. I just wanted to make sure Sookie wasn’t strangely opposed to violence.
Wanderer: No, she is. In a weird, twisted way. Since she gets mad at you for doing it, but it was totally okay to almost strangle that one guy with a tire chain in order to save Bill.
I was in complete shock for only a moment,
Wanderer: Personally, if it was me, I’d be in shock a hell of a lot longer. I might force myself to keep moving, but the shock? Would definitely last a while.
tears falling from my eyes like water from a faucet.
Eric: That’s not even physically possible…
Wanderer: I bet it only lasted for a moment, too.
I ARE SPESHUL SNOWFLAKE: 9
Then another groan was heard and the door beside me
Wanderer: When did a door magically appear in the middle of the room next to her?
that led to the garage creaked open. I already knew what to expect,
Wanderer: HOW?! AND THAT DIDN’T STOP YOU FROM HUGGING YOUR MOM!
Eric: You should calm down. *still tapping the heartbeat rhythm* It’s bad for your health.
I ARE SPESHUL SNOWFLAKE: 10
but it still hurt to see.
Wanderer: You’re so upset about it.
Glenn started to hold up his knife, but I put a hand over his wrist. "I've got this," I muttered.
He nodded hesitantly, frowning.
Wanderer: How do you nod hesitantly? Do you just jerk your neck down, then back up?
I grabbed my knife as I looked up into my dead father's face.
Wanderer: Wait, when did he get there? The door was just creaking open!
His jeans were ripped and splattered with blood,
Wanderer: FROM WHAT?
his camouflage baseball cap on his head as it always was. Blood was dripping down his mouth and it coated a crescent-shaped mark on his forearm.
Eric: He bit himself?
Wanderer: Apparently, since the mom showed no signs of bites. He was a bite-and-run.
Eric: … that was entirely too cheesy.
Wanderer: I know. I’m sorry.
He shuffled forward, eyes glinting demonically.
Eric: Aren’t they clouded over in death?
Wanderer: They’re supposed to be!
KNOW YOUR GODDAMN FANDOM: 3
I sniffed and tried to soak up the tears
Wanderer: You really don’t have time to mop up your tears if a walker is RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU.
LOGIC FAIL: 7
and be strong. "I'm sorry, daddy."
Eric: This is nauseating. *looks disgusted*
I drove the blade of the knife deep into his brain, ceasing the excited chattering of his teeth
Wanderer: Oh, he’s just having a seizure, guys!
Eric: He’s just cold. That garage isn’t properly insulated
and the squelching groans he made. I pulled the knife out and wiped it on my pants,
Wanderer: Why bother to keep clothes decent for as long as possible, especially when in a fucking KITCHEN with a goddamn SINK?!
saying, "We've gotta hurry and get out of the city."
Eric: Where’s the military? I’m pretty sure the military would be trying to set up a safe base for people.
Wanderer: Nope, the Sue is too smart for that. She knows it’s going to be overrun! And in a day!
Eric: This is stupid.
He nodded and we ran
Wanderer: NOW you hurry.
upstairs to my room. Glenn closed the door behind us
Wanderer: Why bother? You killed the walkers already.
Eric: Maybe they’re going to have a quickie? *perks slightly with interest*
Wanderer: She’s sixteen. And Daryl’s her intended target, not Glenn.
Wanderer: … not everyone gets aroused by killing things.
Eric: I don’t either. I just get shit done.
Wanderer: And it’s really sexy, trust me. But this story isn’t about the sex yet.
Wanderer: I’m assuming that’s why the rating is M.
and I rushed over to my closet, pulling out an athletics bag
Wanderer: A bag for more than one athletic! Only two payments of $19.99!
I had used when I was on a dance team in middle school.
Wanderer: If this is to foreshadow how flexible she is for sex, I’m going to puke.
Eric: Can I just drain her? We could throw her into the bayou. It’s Louisiana, we have gators.
Wanderer: I wish.
I stuffed random things into it as Glenn inspected the room. He hadn't been over in a few years, and my room had changed, though the rest of the house remained the same.
Wanderer: WHY. DOES. THIS. MATTER?!
I shoved some clothes into the bag: jeans, shorts, T-shirts, tank tops, socks, underwear, bras (the last ones with discretion so I didn't draw Glenn's attention to it).
Eric: I suppose she’s well-endowed?
Wanderer: Dunno, she hasn’t told us yet. But no doubt she’s super sexy, and looks much older than 16.
Eric: *sighs* She’s reminding me of all the Sues in my fandom.
Wanderer: Most of which are after you. Poor Eric *pets him*
Then I moved into the bathroom and grabbed medicine,
Wanderer: And she’s MEDICATED?! For WHAT?!
Eric: Maybe it’s for being so emotionally stunted.
scraping it all off the countertop
Eric: So she just stores the pills out on the counter and not in the bottles?
Wanderer: Ah, so she’s a pill-popper. This explains EVERYTHING.
Eric: It does?
Wanderer: No. But I wish it did. Then this could just be a bad Oxy-trip.
and into the bag.
Glenn was looking at all the stuff on my dresser.
Wanderer: Because that shit’s important.
"You kept this?" he asked, smiling and holding up a necklace made of pastel green yarn and fruit loops. Glenn had made it for me on my 4th birthday.
I nodded, blushing slightly. "Of course I kept it." I felt kinda silly for keeping stuff like that, but they held a place in my heart.
Wanderer: Blah, blah, blah. Also, I’m pretty sure Fruit Loops don’t last 12 years if just lying on a dresser. They’d get crushed or something.
Eric: The hell are Fruit Loops?
Wanderer: A kind of cereal.
Eric: Who gives a girl a cereal necklace?
Wanderer: Asian children, apparently.
I grabbed the necklace from Glenn's hand and pulled it over my head. "And I still wear it, too," I joked,
Wanderer: How is this a joke? It’s not at all funny.
going through some of the stuff on top of my dresser.
I put deodorant and a few pictures in the bag
Wanderer: How big IS this bag? And how does she plan on escaping the undead with all this shit weighing her down?
Eric: I hope it gets her killed. Also, she’ll probably make the Asian carry it.
and noticed the house was devoid of something.
Wanderer: A horde of flesh-craving dead things to eat her?
Eric: She has a dog?
Eric: Excuse me? Donkeys don’t bark.
Wanderer: That’s dog’s name.
Eric: Oh. Oh, I see.
I walked across the hall to my parents room
Wanderer: Is that where you keep parents? Because yours are dead downstairs…
and found Donkey cowering under the bed.
Wanderer: And he’s a German Shepherd? Please.
Eric: I’ve known Pomeranians more ferocious than that.
I grabbed his collar and pulled him out of the house, muttering how much of a coward he was. Glenn followed with my bag strung around his shoulders.
Eric: Called it! And Pam says my understanding of humans is lacking…
I put Donkey in the back seat and then went back upstairs to grab a pillow and my purple comforter.
Wanderer: Why not bring that shit down with the dog? Drag him with one hand, and carry shit with the other? God, she’s useless and a waste of time.
Eric; This story is useless and a waste of time.
Finally, we left, speeding out of town and passing tons of walkers on the way.
Wanderer: THERE WOULDN’T FUCKING BE TONS YET! AND PEOPLE STILL THOUGHT ATLANTA WAS SAFE MONTHS LATER! IT ISN’T OVERRUN IN ONE DAY! DAMN IT!
Eric: *tapping speeds up*
Wanderer: Quit that!
Eric: But why? It just tells me how fast your blood will be pumping into my mouth.
Wanderer: … stop making that sound sexual.
I was just glad we were in a truck and they were walking.
Wanderer: I wish WE were walking away!
Although I wished they hadn't started.
Eric: Who is ‘they’?
Wanderer: Who fucking knows. Also, WHAT THE HELL?! All this chapter was about was killing her parents—making her an ORPHAN, the poor BABY—and getting the dog? REALLY!?
Eric: Can I go now?
Wanderer: NO! We still have 58 chapters to go.
Eric: What?! I’m not doing this for that long. I refuse.
Wanderer: Sorry, but you are. Because I said so.
Eric: I could leave if I wanted to.
Wanderer: But you won’t. I’m easy access to your favourite blood type.
Eric: *longsuffering sigh* I suppose I can stay around for a bit longer.
KNOW YOUR GODDAMN FANDOM: 3
LOGIC FAIL: 6
GRAMMAR NAZI: 7
I ARE SPESHUL SNOWFLAKE: 10
Chapters Remaining: 58