Trigger warning: guns, blood & (kind of) Assult

* * *

Ezra

“Hey, EZ!” Rick yells, startling me out of my thoughts. 

“Jesus,” I say, rubbing my temples at the onset of a sudden headache. “What do you want?”

“Oh, come on don’t be like that, hermano ! you know that we got patrol today!” Rick whines. 

“Good point, bye then.” I get up and walk towards the door.

“¿Qué? Where you think you're goin’, kid?” 

“Patrol,” I respond, trying to stay emotionless but I can’t help cracking a small smirk as Rick sighs a sound of disbelief. 

“Patrol? Then why you be goin’ by yourself?” 

“The answer is simple really.” 

“... maybe an explanation would help me figure it out?” his southern accent thickens with annoyance.

“I don’t really like you so I prefer to be alone or with literally anyone but you.”

“...e-excuse me?”

“Ha. just kidding,” I say, giving his arm a soft punch. “Or am I?”

Rick just stands there for a second but finally comes to his senses turning and following me out of the empty common room.

“Fine, but let's make a quick pit stop at the kitchens. I'm really hungry.” Rick groans.

* * *

“Clear!” Rick yells from the other room of the building we’ve been assigned to scout out for supplies.

“Let’s move on to the next one!” I respond, as I meet him in the hallway.

“Roger,” he says, with a smug little smirk.

“It’s the apocalypse, not the army Rick,” I utter, rather exasperated with his snide comments. It’s enough with how sluggish he is today, he claims to have slept fine but I don’t really believe him. As we leave the building, he mutters something about being hungry for the 10th time in the past half n’ hour. I clench the tattered cricket bat in my hand as I pause scanning for any signs of the Infected, but I only hear Rick grumbling about again, trudging behind 10 feet. 

“I’m hungry….” He growls his voice low and earthy. He isn’t acting like himself. What is he thinking acting like he’s about to turn- oh gods.

I turn around but it’s too late, he’s already lunging at me, overtaken by the fungus’s famine. Instinct kicks in before I’m even fully aware of what is happening, I swing my bat as hard as I can, knocking him down. He- it doesn’t get up but I still have to be sure the threat is eliminated.

It isn’t Rick..

I pull out my shotgun.

It isn’t Rick.

I point it at its head, the only way to kill an infected is to destroy the brain.

It isn’t Rick.

I shoot, the sound echoes out through the abandoned city as I hit my mark.

It isn’t Rick.

Blood begins to pool out from the infected’s gray-skinned head.

It isn’t Rick.

It isn’t Rick.

It.

  Isn’t.

RICK!

I need to move. No doubt this place will be swarming with infected any minute now. Right on cue I hear the shuffles of dead footsteps. I take off running toward the next assigned building. 

"What am I supposed to do now...?"