Rory

 Well, nothing had really changed since then.

I mean, not for us.

Everything was kind of going to shit outside, but Francis and I kinda just hung out like the time it was raining really hard and the roads were all flooded.

I cooked, we ate, we napped, we watched movies. Francis spent most of his time with me, since we figured it was be safer that way. He’d make the bed and do laundry, I made the food and washed the dishes. We both took turns cleaning the cat box.

It was pretty damned domestic.

But it had been a week, and…

Yeah.

It was for sure a zombie apocalypse or whatever. Like chaos everywhere, streets packed with, like...zombies and shit. Just...yeah, just a lot of shit going on out there.

At first I thought it was just Francis and me sharing some delusion like that time we got high and thought we were both mermaids, but once I started to lower my dose to get ready for my usual gym run, it was very, very clear that all the violence and horror outside wasn’t just in our heads.

It was for real, and then there was panic and fear, and-

And I upped my dose and just kept it high, just like I always did when I began to feel anything other than the fuzzy numbness that I had survived on after my mom died. Francis also gave me some stuff that closed whatever gap opened up in my nerves whenever I looked outside at the waves of people in the street, shuffling along.

There was no more gun fire.

Things went south fast, I think. I was out of it most of the time, so it was hard to tell what happened, since Francis and I just stayed quiet in the dark of my apartment.

I ran a dry cloth over the last plate I cleaned and put it into the cabinet, smiling as I began to enjoy the buzz that was setting in, Francis having found a pinch of ‘feel good fuzz’ that was mostly grounded up shrooms, something I drank in a tea and made me super, super chill. I didn’t get super fucking high from it, but it really helped...even things out.

Francis came into the kitchen as I was hanging the dish towel on the handle bar of the oven. “So I did the research one night while I was high, and-”

“How were you able to do research while high-” I mumbled.

“Coke, not weed-”

“Duuude, the energy!” I gasped in awe.

“-and there are like, several types of zombies – we need to determine what kind they are so we know how careful we have to be.” He said, reaching up to close the cabinet.

“Dude, what types are there?” I asked, blinking wide. His hair looked so good right now and I didn’t even know why. So pretty. I reached out and petted it, Francis holding still so I could fully admire how amazing his hair was. “Goodness, look at that…” I mumbled as I held a strand between my fingers, seeing it was like...an oil slick sort of color going on there, like a rainbow on his hair.

“There’s the fast type, the slow type, the smart type, the stupid type...the type that mutate into monsters. The type that stay zombies forever without rotting, the type that decay and die because they are essentially just rabid humans.”

“That’s a lot of types…” I gasped.

“And we need to know what kind we are dealing with, because there are smart ways to deal with each.” He said, “The more we know about what kind of zombie we are dealing with, the more likely we are to survive long term.”

I released his hair. “What do you suggest?” I asked, holding a hand to my cheek. Wow, my cheek was soft. Shaving basically turned my cheek into a peach.

“We need to collect some samples.”

“Jeez, how?”

“I’ll take care of that. If we take off their heads and observe how they decay, we’ll know what kind they are. Hopefully they’ll just rot, but if they’re growling and chopping when they are just heads, then...we’re in some deep shit, man.” Francis said as he started to pet my other cheek, his hand feeling like a silk, firm mitten against my skin. Soooo nice. “Like no recovering sort of shit, so we got to stay here forever or else we’re dead.”

“That’s a good idea.” I said with a nod, “What can I do?” I asked, in awe for his intelligence.

“You just sit your pretty ass down and keep the cats calm, I’ll take care of the rest.” He said, patting my cheek lightly.

I nodded and quickly went out of the kitchen to sit on the couch in the living room, pulling out the cat stick there to shake it, the toy at the end dancing in the air. I met his gaze and we nodded at each other with stern looks. Puurr-sea popped out from under the couch and I grinned, looking back at him. “I got one!” I squealed, Francis give me a thumbs up.

I returned my gaze to the toy, jerking it around while Puurr-sea got onto his back legs, lazily swatting it. Princess came over and watched and I grinned wide.

I almost got two!

I don’t know how much time passed then.

That happened a lot whenever I drank what Francis gave me.

And honestly, I really didn’t care.

The more time that passed, the more likely I’d feel better about whatever was going on with me.

At least, that was what all the therapist said.

It never worked when it came to my Mom’s death, but who knows...maybe this was different.

Mostly I sat on the couch, but when I was more aware of myself, I was laying on my stomach on the floor with a cat laying on my back and three others around me while I got them to chase a sock I was dragging around.

Francis was back, spread out on the couch and pulling from his vape. I looked back at him to see he was watching me and he grinned back at my smile. I looked back to my cats while Francis got down and laid on the floor with me, rolling onto his back to get one of my cats to play with.

After a moment I lifted my head and moved to lay down with my head on his shoulder, Francis scooting closer before we laid in silence together, the noises of all the shuffling feet outside...oddly relaxing. Kinda like the ocean.

Kinda.

It was easy to think that was all it was.

I tended to do that a lot.

My mom wasn’t dead, she was just on vacation and would call me when she had the time.

It wasn’t a hoard of people outside shuffling, just the ocean.

I wasn’t in danger of being torn apart by mindless people, I was safe as long as I was with Francis.

Francis didn't deal with all of this well because he was a stone cold psycho, he was as high as me and just as numb.

Being on drugs made being in denile incredibly easily.

I was so used to it noe that I just defaulted to it and life became easy breezy.