VM/Zombie!Apocofic.
May. 17th, 2006 12:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
itsallovernowOkay, I wrote the first part for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-syndicated.gif)
vonnie_k and the second for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
crankygrrl. Please, please, someone take this and run with it so I don't have to write any more!!
It was hard to tell, at first, that her classmates had become the undead.
Senior ditch day and she's there to get some notes that she left in the journalism classroom, hauling out of there too late last night because she just couldn't stand one more look of false hope, couldn't stand the chalk and white board smells, the hum of earnestness ementating from the sophomore students finishing up the yearbook.
Second period has stretched out into refreshment and the freshman are milling about in patterns that seem just a little too orderly, weaving near the fountain like a drunken marching band run amok. She ignores them. They're freshman. Their ways are not her own.
The halls are eerily quiet, except for a few low moans, but that was easily explained. Bio finals were coming up, and the frog/earthworm/formaldahyde paradigm always set off a few of the weaker stomachs. Besides, it was a beautiful day. Anyone who could be outside right now, was.
She stuffs the notes into her bag, slipping through the hallway like she's on her way to class and hits the heavy metal release on the main door. The handle gives but the door's wedged tight.
"What the hell," she mutters. Shoves again. Nothing. She gives it one more try, using all of her strength, fierce determination not to be trapped in the school for any longer than she has to be. The door goes flying open, revealing the open mouthed gaped of one of the freshman who works over at the pizza place stacking boxes and refilling the straw containers. Hair hangs over one eye and he stares at her. She stares back.
"Dude, it's not a good idea to try to keep the door closed like that. You get a bunch of jocks running full blast through here, they'll squash you like... well, like a squash ball."
The kid continues to gape, and Veronica can see there's a line of spittle slicking his lips. She winces, starts to push past, but the kid grabs her arm. His skin is cold, damp, and he smells... musty, meaty. His eyes track down to her wrist, and then slide to the ground, over, tracking the trajectory of the front door.
She follows his gaze, tightening her wrist to turn and yank out of his grip, but freezes at what she sees. Another freshman, a girl with ratty yellow hair and red flip flops is flayed against the stone partition that blocks the entrance way to the school. She's not moving, head at an awkward angle, wrist twisted almost all the way around.
"Oh god," Veronica breathes. The kid holding her wrists gives a low moan, and tugs. She yanks down hard, breaking his hold and pushes him in the chest. He stumbles back, and the girl lying splayed twitches. Veronica feels her own low moan in her throat, and then holds back a scream as the girl's eyes pop open like bad CGI in a b-grade horror flick.
There's blood on the girl's forehead, and the freshman she just shoved starts sniffing, sniffing, moving towards the girl like he's caught scent of a tasty rabbit. He lunges towards the girl, mouth on the blood, teeth gnawing on her forehead. She raises the broken wrist, wacks at him with her forearm, and Veronica stands there, not knowing who to yell for, who to try and kill.
***
They hadn't burned the TV yet because the DVD player still worked. Dick, proving far more useful than anyone would have given him credit for, had figured out how to rig it up using batteries and propane and while there was a good chance that the whole thing would explode in a fiery blaze, at least watching Led Zepplin DVDs (Keith's choice for end of the world viewing options) was better than staring out the window, waiting for daylight).
No one wanted to sit by Dick though, because Logan had pulled him out of Shelly Pomeroy's pool and he had a weird looking bite mark on his arm. "Dude, that was totally before she went all uhhhhh…uhhhhh," he'd sworn, but no one really trusted Dick to know the difference. And besides, it was Shelly. Who could really tell?
The taser hadn't proved to be much use, mostly frying already dead skin, but it did make it easier to kick them once they started vibrating. The tradeoff was the smell of sizzling flesh and the sticky bits that stuck to the black plastic casing. Veronica would have given a body part for some bleach and some latex gloves, but all things considered, a little sticky was better than whole chunks of people parts. Wallace had found some M-80's in the police lockup and they made quite a bang. He still had bits of something in his hair, but Veronica wasn't about to pull them out.
"We need a plan," Keith said, hand absently patting Veronica on the thigh. Wedged up next to her dad and Logan, wrapped in a blanket, she felt like the hot dog in between two buns, threw that analogy out the window because ewww and also hot dogs and she was pretty sure that if the world didn't end, she wasn't really gonna eat meat again anyway.
"You mean a plan that's not piling into the SUV at the crack of dawn and driving West?" Logan asked.
"East, dude, the ocean's west." Everyone looked at Dick, but no one mentioned metaphor and symbolism, and besides, he was right.
"How far do you think we'll really get?" Mac's voice was still shaky, hands clutched in her sweater, hair lank on her face. "The car started grinding after we'd built up four of them, and…"
Mowing down your former classmates, even if they were the walking dead was sort of beyond awful. Making them part of an SUV pile up like a snow plow with too big a load was way beyond awful.
"We need to clear some space," Veronica added. "Create a distraction so that we can leave, so that we can see if anyone else is alive."
"Ideas?" Keith waited for an answer.
"I think so," she said slowly.
vonnie_k and the second for crankygrrl. Please, please, someone take this and run with it so I don't have to write any more!!It was hard to tell, at first, that her classmates had become the undead.
Senior ditch day and she's there to get some notes that she left in the journalism classroom, hauling out of there too late last night because she just couldn't stand one more look of false hope, couldn't stand the chalk and white board smells, the hum of earnestness ementating from the sophomore students finishing up the yearbook.
Second period has stretched out into refreshment and the freshman are milling about in patterns that seem just a little too orderly, weaving near the fountain like a drunken marching band run amok. She ignores them. They're freshman. Their ways are not her own.
The halls are eerily quiet, except for a few low moans, but that was easily explained. Bio finals were coming up, and the frog/earthworm/formaldahyde paradigm always set off a few of the weaker stomachs. Besides, it was a beautiful day. Anyone who could be outside right now, was.
She stuffs the notes into her bag, slipping through the hallway like she's on her way to class and hits the heavy metal release on the main door. The handle gives but the door's wedged tight.
"What the hell," she mutters. Shoves again. Nothing. She gives it one more try, using all of her strength, fierce determination not to be trapped in the school for any longer than she has to be. The door goes flying open, revealing the open mouthed gaped of one of the freshman who works over at the pizza place stacking boxes and refilling the straw containers. Hair hangs over one eye and he stares at her. She stares back.
"Dude, it's not a good idea to try to keep the door closed like that. You get a bunch of jocks running full blast through here, they'll squash you like... well, like a squash ball."
The kid continues to gape, and Veronica can see there's a line of spittle slicking his lips. She winces, starts to push past, but the kid grabs her arm. His skin is cold, damp, and he smells... musty, meaty. His eyes track down to her wrist, and then slide to the ground, over, tracking the trajectory of the front door.
She follows his gaze, tightening her wrist to turn and yank out of his grip, but freezes at what she sees. Another freshman, a girl with ratty yellow hair and red flip flops is flayed against the stone partition that blocks the entrance way to the school. She's not moving, head at an awkward angle, wrist twisted almost all the way around.
"Oh god," Veronica breathes. The kid holding her wrists gives a low moan, and tugs. She yanks down hard, breaking his hold and pushes him in the chest. He stumbles back, and the girl lying splayed twitches. Veronica feels her own low moan in her throat, and then holds back a scream as the girl's eyes pop open like bad CGI in a b-grade horror flick.
There's blood on the girl's forehead, and the freshman she just shoved starts sniffing, sniffing, moving towards the girl like he's caught scent of a tasty rabbit. He lunges towards the girl, mouth on the blood, teeth gnawing on her forehead. She raises the broken wrist, wacks at him with her forearm, and Veronica stands there, not knowing who to yell for, who to try and kill.
***
They hadn't burned the TV yet because the DVD player still worked. Dick, proving far more useful than anyone would have given him credit for, had figured out how to rig it up using batteries and propane and while there was a good chance that the whole thing would explode in a fiery blaze, at least watching Led Zepplin DVDs (Keith's choice for end of the world viewing options) was better than staring out the window, waiting for daylight).
No one wanted to sit by Dick though, because Logan had pulled him out of Shelly Pomeroy's pool and he had a weird looking bite mark on his arm. "Dude, that was totally before she went all uhhhhh…uhhhhh," he'd sworn, but no one really trusted Dick to know the difference. And besides, it was Shelly. Who could really tell?
The taser hadn't proved to be much use, mostly frying already dead skin, but it did make it easier to kick them once they started vibrating. The tradeoff was the smell of sizzling flesh and the sticky bits that stuck to the black plastic casing. Veronica would have given a body part for some bleach and some latex gloves, but all things considered, a little sticky was better than whole chunks of people parts. Wallace had found some M-80's in the police lockup and they made quite a bang. He still had bits of something in his hair, but Veronica wasn't about to pull them out.
"We need a plan," Keith said, hand absently patting Veronica on the thigh. Wedged up next to her dad and Logan, wrapped in a blanket, she felt like the hot dog in between two buns, threw that analogy out the window because ewww and also hot dogs and she was pretty sure that if the world didn't end, she wasn't really gonna eat meat again anyway.
"You mean a plan that's not piling into the SUV at the crack of dawn and driving West?" Logan asked.
"East, dude, the ocean's west." Everyone looked at Dick, but no one mentioned metaphor and symbolism, and besides, he was right.
"How far do you think we'll really get?" Mac's voice was still shaky, hands clutched in her sweater, hair lank on her face. "The car started grinding after we'd built up four of them, and…"
Mowing down your former classmates, even if they were the walking dead was sort of beyond awful. Making them part of an SUV pile up like a snow plow with too big a load was way beyond awful.
"We need to clear some space," Veronica added. "Create a distraction so that we can leave, so that we can see if anyone else is alive."
"Ideas?" Keith waited for an answer.
"I think so," she said slowly.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-05-17 08:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-17 08:53 pm (UTC)You're a writer. A really good writer. You can have them:)
no subject
Date: 2006-05-17 09:24 pm (UTC)Also, I'm lazy. You know that quote about not wanting to write, but to have written? I just want other people to have written. *g*
no subject
Date: 2006-05-17 09:36 pm (UTC)I couldn't write non-zombie VM fic, certainly not for V. as a teenager:)
no subject
Date: 2006-05-17 08:51 pm (UTC)*love*
no subject
Date: 2006-05-17 08:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-17 08:58 pm (UTC)Dude, I must edit teh epic here, and answer comments on the world-building and meta for it...not right now.
(YOU, keep going!)
no subject
Date: 2006-05-17 09:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-17 09:35 pm (UTC)