damned_institute | Nightshift 42: Callahan's Grocer

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Nightshift 42: Callahan's Grocer

S.T. was bored. Bored and feeling useless. He'd stomped around town, looking for a distraction from his own self-pitying funk, as the light had waned. Boredom and feigned anticipation had given way to dread. He'd circled back around to the grocery to see if there was anything less useless on the bulletin. No dice.

Then it happened. Everything changed, without the comfort of a closed door and an unchanging dormitory room. Usually it was like an elevator with a dinner service -- if the doors open on the same sight as you left, either it's a crap elevator or you're in a stockbroker's office tower. And if it were the latter, the food would need more unpronounceable French things.

This had no frame, no steady point of reference. The smell of rotting fruit, esters and alcohol, hit him first. Papers curled and became brittle. The ambient temperature dropped at least five degrees.

It was night, and the closest thing he had to a weapon was a ballpoint pen and a rack of rotting tomatoes. At least he hoped the tomatoes were on his side.

[for Spider Jerusalem, open to threadcrashing once we get going]

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If one wished to be diplomatic, one might make the observation that Lelouch's swings were, at the very least, incredibly enthusiastic. One might even go so far as to say that, had there been no zombies at all and Lelouch had been wielding something somewhat more awe-inspiring than a tatty broom, the movements may have even been called graceful... at first. A little.

As things were, however, the fact that this was a life or death situation and Lelouch was becoming both more tired and more panicked the longer it went on did little to improve his already minimally effective blows. If this didn't end soon, he was either going to collapse, die, or both, and although he was trying to make his way back to his knight, he doubted Suzaku would appreciate having to deal with the three or so zombies shuffling after him on top of the one he was already fighting.

Lelouch's ill-advised attempts to fight the things himself were put on hold at a familiar-sounding yell, though, and confused (hadn't Suzaku still been behind the counter?), he shot a glance at the person standing on the counter and had enough time to confirm that it definitely wasn't his knight before one of the zombies' grasping hands took hold of the broom and made him leap backwards with a startled yelp. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit-- he hadn't lost the broom, thank god, and the zombie was hardly interested in holding on to something it couldn't eat, but if they kept getting closer like that-- shit, shit, shit, shit, shitshitshitshitshit--

Rotten blood spilled over his hands, down his arms, splashed across his face and chest. It was even more blood than when he had killed his father -- of course, he had hit what should have been an artery on a living person -- except this blood was old and putrefied. Suzaku's stomach turned, but more important was the fact that the zombie hadn't even reacted. It just kept coming, and now it was close enough that -- Suzaku thought he had an inkling of what it felt like to be an average pilot on the other side of Lancelot's vibration swords, when the thing grabbed his collar and dragged him closer.

Before Suzaku had time to panic any further, however, he heard a yell in an oddly familiar voice (he couldn't quite place it) and suddenly there was a board swinging out of nowhere. He had the presence of mind to duck, allowing the -- shelf? -- to hit the zombie. He didn't know who had come to his aid, and he wasn't sure he could quite accept the idea, but it looked like the person was on his side. And he wasn't going to throw away that opportunity.

Counting on the undead monster being distracted by the blow, Suzaku stabbed at the thing's stomach with his knife. It didn't matter right now that he was still in its grip, because he only had a second to take advantage of the distraction and he wasn't going to waste it on a defensive maneuver. Besides, if it was holding him within range, then it was in his range, too. Maybe it would just take a certain number of normally-fatal blows to bring it down. He at least had to try. Even if this was the same way he had killed -- no, this was nothing like that time, and he had to focus on the fight and nothing else.

Just as the zombie had been preparing to lift Suzaku up and rip a decent piece of flesh out of his shoulder, something smacked into it, causing it to stumble back, though it still held onto its prey with a death grip. It turned its head to see yet another person standing on top of the counter, and it roared in a mix of hunger and possibly frustration. It was hard to guess the emotions of something that could barely think.

The knife cleaved through its stomach, opening it up even further and sending a few rotten guts spilling to the floor, along with more of that blood. Once again, the creature didn't appear to have the capacity to feel anything. Logic should have dictated that losing so much blood should have some effect, but all the zombie did was turn itself toward the newest arrival and stab its knife down toward Haseo's foot.

If it could pin them into place, then they couldn't run away from its jaws. It was still holding onto Suzaku with its other hand.

Damn it!

The shelf hit the creature with a strangely dull whack, and although the other guy managed to get a strike in on the thing's stomach, it was clear it wasn't really slowed at all when it turned on Haseo and went for his legs.

The Rogue gave a startled yell as he scrambled back, expecting at any moment to feel the bite of the butcher zombie's blade. And yet the attack didn't quite connect- barely, and he only just scarcely avoided stumbling completely off the edge of the counter too, catching the other side in his left hand as he automatically struck out straight at the creature's hideous face with the shelf held awkwardly in the other.

His heart was in his throat, pumping blood way too loudly into his ears even as his stomach tried to rebel again at the sight of the damage done to the zombie and accompanying smell. It didn't help either that all these blunt impacts were really wearing on him, both his body and mind screaming protests that even his online PC wasn't made for that kind of self-inflicted abuse. He needed a proper blade, not a shelf.

His awareness jumped briefly to someone else, flailing in the darkness against several zombies and wielding what looked suspiciously like a broom, but that situation was dismissed immediately in favor of finally jumping down onto the same side as the fight. He kept his center of gravity low as he moved, continuing to try holding the zombie's attention, not sure what else to do when the thing already had a hold of the guy with the knife... it was frustrating fighting on someone's side when you hadn't matched strategies with them!

"The weakpoint should be the head!" he called, "The head!!"

Blood spilled over Suzaku yet again, and yet again the zombie didn't so much as slow down. That made two fatal blows he had struck, and the kicks to the head earlier would have given a living man a concussion. Even with his level of abilities, Suzaku felt completely helpless against this thing.

Or he would have felt completely helpless if he'd still been alone. He'd never forgive himself if the other guy got injured on his account, but for now he seemed to be handling himself well. And with him distracting the zombie, Suzaku could finish this a lot faster and not give the kid an opportunity to get hurt. If there was any way to finish it --

The head? Maybe. Suzaku had tried the other most obvious vital spots, so why not? He might as well trust the stranger, because it was the best shot he had. He didn't have the best weapon for a head injury, however. Using the brief moment of distraction while the zombie was recovering from the blow to the face, Suzaku did his best to slam the knife into the creature's temple. It was entirely possible it wouldn't do much damage, but he put as much force into the strike as he could, hoping the blade wouldn't just break.

The fact that Haseo had been missed caused the knife to instead bury itself into the counter; it was stuck so well that the zombie only had a moment or two to devote to trying to yank it back out before it took another hit from the shelf, this time to the head.

That was enough to stun it on its feet, and it was left wide open for Suzaku's follow-up attack with his own knife. It plunged into the soft area of its temple, and that was when any remaining bits of life in the creature died out.

The roaring moans stopped, and it slumped forward before collapsing onto Suzaku. Its prize knife was still embedded deeply into the counter.

[changin' up the order]

Finally. It seemed the zombie wasn't invincible after all, and Suzaku didn't even want to think about what would have happened if the new guy hadn't shown up. He probably would have tried the head eventually, but would he have thought of it before he was killed himself? There wasn't any use on dwelling on what-ifs, however, not when Lelouch was still in danger. Suzaku couldn't afford to rest on his laurels after ending this fight -- the fighting probably wasn't going to stop for a second, not until morning.

He didn't foresee the thing falling on him, though. It was huge enough to actually knock him to the ground, and he yelped in surprise, overwhelmed for a second by the stench of rotting flesh. As if he wasn't covered in enough zombie blood already -- ugh, ugh, ugh, he really thought he was going to throw up.

But there wasn't time for that, either. He had no idea where Lelouch had gotten to, only that he wasn't nearby, and to let him go so long without protection was unforgivable. With a heave, Suzaku shoved the putrid corpse off of him and scrambled to his feet. The knife he'd used before was buried in the thing's head, and the bigger one was wedged deeply in the counter. . . There wasn't time. He could come back for them.

He did, however, pause to fix the newcomer with a sincere gaze. "Thank you," he said before turning and dashing to where Lelouch seemed to be swatting zombies with a broom. Suzaku punched another zombie to get it out of his way and managed to come up behind the ones threatening Lelouch. A couple well-placed kicks to the head later, they seemed to be a bit stunned. "Come on," he said, turning to run back to the counter, which would be an easier position to defend while they figured out what to do next. He had been tempted to grab Lelouch's wrist again, but he didn't want to get blood all over him.

The rush of relief Haseo felt when that monster went down at last was at the same time intense and oddly numbing. In some ways it was similar to finally getting in a Data Drain on a particularly difficult AIDA infection, but although connecting with his Avatar in 'The World' was a surprisingly intimate experience and the threat of losing consciousness was always looming overhead, this was something else entirely different. More "real" was merely a cliche understatement. If anything it was more unreal, but the description of "nightmare" didn't really cut it either.

He stepped forward in order to help move the corpse, but hesitated when his resolve seemed to bail right before he could go through with it. Fortunately his impromptu ally seemed reasonably capable of getting out from under it himself and Haseo backed off, hoping his reaction had gone unnoticed and simply nodding at the thanks. He couldn't object when the guy ran off to help the one with the broom... letting this stranger know how affected he was, and how his hands shook slightly when he shifted the shelf he'd stolen from one to the other, wasn't particularly appealing.

Holding the back of his hand to his mouth, Haseo skirted the "body" of the former butcher. He continued to move quickly and had an eye on where the other guy was going, but time seemed to be lagging strangely and suddenly he found himself trying to fight off panic. But-- there were people who were counting on him and it was doing an injustice if he didn't stay strong enough to keep fighting until this was over. He couldn't afford a breakdown. Not here and not now, when both the people he was with needed his help and he wasn't even sure where his other friends were. After a moment he swallowed and managed to settle, but all the same it was probably both a good and bad thing he'd barely eaten all day. There was still no way he was going to touch the zombie, and therefore the knife in its skull was off-limits. He avoided looking at the mess any further.

Pulling at the blade stuck in the counter, he looked up as the blood-soaked man engaged the other zombies. Were they going to bring another fight over? Geez! Of course, it occurred to him finally that he had no idea why the guy had even been fighting the butcher in the first place, and he frowned as he finally yanked the huge knife out of the counter.

"Are you okay?" he said loudly, prepared to step in again if needed, though his eyes drifted toward the direction he'd originally come from.

By the time Suzaku reached him, Lelouch was too worn out to care about how pathetic it must be for him to have so much trouble with the zombies even with a weapon (of sorts) when all it took for his knight was a few kicks that had to have come as easily as breathing. Getting the hell away from the things before they could recover was far more important, and trying very hard not to lean on his broom as he did, he hurried after Suzaku and did everything he could to ignore the smell hovering around his knight.

He staggered and almost fell once they reached the (relative) safety of the counter, staying upright only through sheer force of will and sheer disgust at the body lying in a pool of its own blood and-- were those-- please say that wasn't--

Lelouch squeezed his eyes shut and backed up against the wall, putting as much distance as he could between himself and the thing on the floor. The hand that wasn't wrapped white-knuckled around his broom flew up to cover his mouth, but the damage was done.

He turned away from the others abruptly, doubling over and dropping his hand again so that he could throw up. He couldn't deal with this anymore, not when he was exhausted, aching, and surrounded by god knew what that was on the floor (he hadn't let himself look long enough to identify which of the zombie's organs had spilled out), and with the night not even half over-- how could anyone expect them to get through the rest of it? There was no way they could-- he could hardly breathe, much less bring himself to stand up straight or run again. He couldn't--

He leaned heavily against the wall once he was through, his eyes still shut and his breathing as ragged as ever. He didn't dare turn around just yet, but hopefully it wasn't necessary.

Edited 2009-07-27 04:55 (UTC)

"Yeah, we're --" Suzaku panted, breathing heavily more from adrenaline than exertion. He then realized he had no idea if Lelouch was okay or not, and turned around to see if -- watching Lelouch throw up made his own stomach turn again, as if in commiseration. Lelouch hadn't been the one covered in blood and guts, damn it. On the other hand, Lelouch wasn't a trained soldier. And how many people could put up with having to fight the undead?

Suzaku hesitantly put a hand on Lelouch's shoulder as his back heaved, even if it was stupid to care about something that mattered so little. All that should concern him right now was that Lelouch was still standing and uninjured. But somehow, surrounded by moaning zombies and with the smell of blood still in the air. . . For the first time, he'd felt close to death and hadn't been happy about the fact. Because this was about so much more than him. He had to live, for Lelouch and for everyone else, and with traces of fear still curling up his spine, he was entirely too glad to see Lelouch alive. Glad enough to be concerned that Lelouch was sick to his stomach, and who really cared why, anyway.

"I'm fine," he clarified. The cut in his leg burned, but it wasn't enough to keep him down. "Are you okay? And -- Lelouch, are you alright? Are you injured anywhere?" They didn't have much time for chit-chat with zombies still wandering around, but he had to ascertain this much at least. And then they had to get out of here and find some better weapons.

That guy... wasn't okay. Haseo grimaced slightly and looked away when Mr. Butcherfighter's companion vomited, but otherwise was rather blank on the matter, mind buzzing determinedly to keep from thinking about it. He busied himself inspecting the knife he'd pulled out of the counter instead, albeit carefully. It'd be just his luck to make it through the zombie invasion without being horribly devoured to death and then get an infected self-inflicted wound in the hellhole up the hill and die from that instead. Suffice it to say he wasn't stupid enough to risk cutting his hand by "testing" the sharpness.

"I'm fine," he said shortly, and his eyes drifted to the set of knives that had apparently been used before and-- wait... Lelouch? The monster report dude from the bulletin board? He didn't really think there was more than one person hanging around the institute with such an unusual name, so who else could it be? Haseo studied them both for a moment out of the corner of his eye. Guess he'll have some more additions to his list after this, he thought, though it lacked any of the normal dark humor. He probably should have known the other guy's name too, but the personal affairs of others, especially those he didn't know, hadn't really caught his interest before.

The Rogue lowered his head, giving what might have been a sigh or quiet scoff. "I'm Haseo, by the way. Why were you fighting thi- that thing?"

Being ignored during his... moment would not have been nearly as good as having both of them completely forget it had ever happened like Emmett had, but Lelouch would have been perfectly happy with it nonetheless. Of course there was no hope for it from Suzaku, overprotective idiot that he was, but there was a very, very big difference between drawing attention to him and reaching out and touching him like they were actually-- what was he thinking? He couldn't possibly--

Lelouch forced back his sudden tenseness just a little bit too late, and after spitting a few times to try and get rid of the taste and wiping at his mouth, he straightened casually and accidentally dislodged Suzaku's hand from his shoulder as he turned. "I'm fine," he echoed, studiously avoiding eye contact with either of them but especially with Suzaku. "No injuries." Miraculously enough. He just hoped that stayed true for the rest of the night.

He leaned against the wall again, shutting his eyes once more as a pounding headache made itself known. Great. As if he wasn't suffering enough when his lungs, shoulders, and legs still burned. If it weren't likely that the zombies would find their way over or around the counter soon, he might have just said to hell with it and keeled over, blood, guts, and vomit or no, but as things were... "The knives. Like the one you're holding, for instance. Why else?" His voice was lower and raspier than usual, not to mention punctuated by the occasional harsh indrawn breath, but he still managed to sound somewhat like his usual self.

Speaking of voices... no, it had to be nothing, even if it was bothering him immensely by now. It had to be a coincidence.

Edited 2009-07-28 01:02 (UTC)

It didn't escape Suzaku that Lelouch tensed up when he touched him, but it could have been for any number of reasons. He might be wary of physical touch after having zombies try to eat him all night, or he might not want to get blood on him (which would probably happen if he so much as brushed up against any part of Suzaku), or he just -- wouldn't want that kind of familiarity with his knight. Which didn't make sense, because he'd started it (kind of), but -- whatever. Suzaku could stand here guessing the reasons for every minute detail of Lelouch's behavior all night, or he could do something useful.

"I'm Suzaku," he said to Haseo, "and this is Lelouch. Nice to meet you. I mean, aside from the circumstances. Thank you again, by the way." He hesitated for a moment, giving the other zombies in the store a wary look. They looked a little confused about the proceedings, which was good because it gave them a chance to rest, and by "them" Suzaku meant "Lelouch."

"I think that's the biggest one," he added, nodding to the knife Haseo was holding. "You -- I owe you. You should probably take it, it's only fair."

[Another order change.]

Lelouch's head whipped around immediately at that, and after giving Suzaku a venomous glare that expressed quite plainly what he thought of his knight's tremendously inappropriate attack of conscience, he looked to Haseo and dropped a somewhat more pleasant (if still slightly aggravated and just so tired because he simply couldn't hide that right now) mask into place before saying, "Please ignore that outburst; he can't help himself sometimes. What Suzaku meant to say was that you can have your pick of the other knives here, but we would prefer it if you were to return that one."

He shot Suzaku another look, then sank just a little bit lower against the wall before quickly righting himself. He would be fine in a moment, he thought, but only if Suzaku stopped undermining their efforts. Was he never going to stop putting others ahead of himself like that?

They were after the knives? Well, that made an awful lot of sense when you actually thought about it, even if it was odd that Suzaku apparently assumed he could take out that... boss zombie by himself. Then again, Haseo didn't know what the two may have been capable of before arriving as "patients" at Landel's, so perhaps it wasn't quite as nonsensical as it seemed at first. As for the fight itself, he guessed that some media had differences in their portrayal of the undead, which would explain why Suzaku hadn't thought to go for his opponent's head. He failed to acknowledge that he hadn't even been sure of the "suggestion" himself when he'd given it, and that everyone wasn't as chronically exposed to fiction like he was.

Haseo nodded again when provided an introduction, neglecting to let on that he'd partly known their identities from Suzaku's question to his very non-offensive Class friend. While he was glad they were both okay (aside from the rather impressive amount of zombie gunk all over one and weakened state of the other), he was at the same time deeply annoyed. Although he had managed to snap something "nicer" into place for Haseo's benefit, Lelouch's attitude really grated on the teen's already frayed nerves. Even so, he felt a tinge of relief when Suzaku said he could keep the bigger knife, and he was about to respond when...

There was a long pause, and once more Haseo lowered his head, an odd expression crossing his face. He couldn't help but think that the last time someone had used that sort of tone with him, they had ended up with a sword through their digital back. With the level of stress this night was putting on him, his sudden aversion was completely unrestrained.

A resounding thok rang out as the blade was slammed forcefully back into the counter, where it remained quivering with an odd hum as Haseo turned sharply and walked to the other knives behind the counter. "This shit's the only kind of thing I know how to use," he snapped, voice low as he snatched one knife and then another from their holders. They were shorter and didn't quite look as sharp, but they'd have to do. Even if he needed longer knives. He wasn't designed - literally - for combat involving hand-to-hand or fighting with a shank or whatever.

"Good luck then, Suzaku," he said, and in his a flat tone was the mild suggestion that he might feel sorry for him. Kibitoshin and Leon weren't really fighters either, but at least they weren't assholes as far as he could tell. Turning the two knives deftly in hand, he claimed back his makeshift battering-shelf from where he'd set it, climbed right over the counter, and disappeared in the direction he'd initially come from.

Suzaku's lips tightened for the briefest moment. Lelouch did have a point; this was a life-or-death situation and he couldn't afford to think about being nice. There was a time when honor was more important than survival, but Suzaku had willingly given up the claim to such standards. And he didn't have just his own life to think about anymore.

Still. . . still. If Haseo got hurt because of Suzaku's lack of gratitude, that would be completely unforgivable. He'd had no reason to help Suzaku, that much was clear by the fact that he didn't even know they were fighting for the knives. And if it weren't for Haseo, he wouldn't know to go for the head. Without that information, he would surely be overwhelmed by these things at some point during the night, because they would just keep coming. He'd have to make sure to find the kid later -- assuming they both survived -- and apologize.

For now, he just returned the terse, "Good luck," choosing not to acknowledge that it had been pointedly directed at him and not Lelouch. Lelouch didn't care if people thought he was rude or not, so Suzaku shouldn't care either. He was almost sad to see the extra help go, but it would be easier to move unobtrusively through the town with less people, and it looked like Haseo was with another group anyway. Silently hoping they'd all get through the night unscathed, he turned back to Lelouch.

"I hate to say it, but I think we need better weapons. This'll do for now," and he yanked the knife back out of the counter, waving it warningly at the zombies that were starting to approach. Not that they were smart enough to heed the threat. "But apparently the head is the only weak point, and a knife isn't the best thing for that." Especially because this was a chopping knife and not a stabbing one. Which. . . gave Suzaku some ideas of how best to use it against the zombies, but he really didn't want to have to put that particular plan into practice. Mainly because Lelouch would probably vomit again, and Suzaku would probably join him. "Any ideas? I bet a lot of places have been looted already, and I, um, didn't learn the layout of the town very well."

Hearing that tone from Haseo only increased Lelouch's unease, but that was only because he sounded so much like-- hadn't anyone else noticed it? Suzaku hadn't given any indication that he had, but then he was hardly the best judge. Besides, it was unlikely he wanted to remember the times he'd spoken like that to Lelouch, especially now that they were working together and it would only serve to remind him of the mistakes both of them had made.

Lelouch couldn't help but think that Suzaku's "good luck" sounded a bit too much like Haseo's, though, and while he could understand why his knight might be irritated that his show of gratitude had been vetoed so very quickly, that didn't-- it was only practical. It may have just been Lelouch's imagination, especially when it was easy enough to pick out the subtle differences in their voices even with the other slightly overwhelming similarities, but...

Sparing a glance at Haseo and the group he was returning to, Lelouch pushed away from the wall and said, "The best choice would be the hardware store, but it's also the most obvious. As you said, it's probably been picked over by now, and although it's possible that there are some useful items left, we should try another location." He sounded much calmer than he felt, but while a lot of that had to do with the by now familiar need to appear in control in front of his subordinates, he was also consciously trying to distance himself again. If Suzaku was annoyed at him-- and so soon after touching him like that-- there was only one way Lelouch could behave now. At least it was unlikely his knight would notice this time.

"I noticed an auto repair shop nearby," he continued, looking to the zombies now and tightening his grip on his broom. It wouldn't do him much good, but with how close he'd need to get with a knife-- damn it. "There should be equipment there that we can use to create an adequate defense against the zombies, or at least tools we can use as better makeshift weapons." That shop was also a fairly obvious choice, not to mention farther away than the hardware store, but there was still a greater chance that they would find what they needed to get through the night there. that alone had to be worth it.

Suzaku felt more at ease hearing that calm, commanding tone from Lelouch. Better than the sight of him weak, scared, and sick to his stomach. Better because Suzaku preferred to have Lelouch take a firm lead, and because -- he didn't like seeing him weak like that. It was a bit scary, and -- it wasn't just that. Suzaku didn't want to see him get hurt, and not just because he was Lelouch's knight. At the same time, he believed in Lelouch enough to follow him into any dangerous situation.

"That sounds like a good plan. Of course," he added with a glance at Lelouch, knowing he wouldn't consider it flattery so much as the truth. He was so ridiculous, but the ego wasn't without reason. All (or at least most) of Lelouch's plans were tactically brilliant.

"We should probably go out the back. They're blocking the front," he nodded at Haseo and his friends, "and there might be less zombies off the main street." And they didn't have much time. The zombies were already stumbling against the counter, moaning and reaching out to them.

Suzaku took the lead, heading toward the space that opened out to the rest of the store with a determined look in his eye. The zombies were easy enough to kick out of the way temporarily, giving them enough time to get to the back area where Lelouch was earlier. There had to be a door out there somewhere. If there wasn't, they might be screwed, but Suzaku believed in dumb luck and uncreative store layouts. He didn't want to spend too much time here, and the faster they moved, the less of a chance the zombies caught on to what they were doing before they were gone. Checking to make sure Lelouch was following him, Suzaku dodged into what looked like a back store room. It was dark, but -- that looked like a freezer over there, and -- there, that had to be the exit. Suzaku crashed through the door impatiently, but still took the time to hold it open for Lelouch.

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/674856.html?thread=55938600#t55938600)]

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Nightshift 42: Callahan's Grocer

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