Fast Car 2
Find my Simon Riley masterlist
Two years after the end of the world, you have a choice to make, and potentially a new life to settle into. One thing you definitely now have: a nemesis.
Warnings: Swearing, lots of grumbling, gentle interrogation, don't forget these guys are a trained very effective unit, dick-ish behavior, reference to cannibalism, reference to the wider zombie au.
Word count: 1k
You approached the meeting place carefully, slowly. Sure, you were planning to go with them. But that didn't mean you had to trust them.
It wasn't terribly hard to spot three people, standing exactly where hat guy said they'd be. You didn't see tall and scary, but that was just fine with you.
Maybe you'd get lucky and he'd been eaten overnight.
“Took your time getting here.”
Spoke too soon. Grimacing, you half-turned to see him emerge from his hiding spot, gun in hand but aimed away from the two of you. Small mercies.
“I'm on time,” you defended yourself, planting your hands on your hips. It wasn't as effective given the large pack on your back, but still.
“Means you're late.” He turned and strode off back to the others, clearly expecting you to follow him. You grit your teeth, momentarily tempted to just walk away. You didn't need a town. You were fine on your own. You could do it, keep on going on your own.
Except the empty windows and yawning doorframes of this town reminded you how hard it was to come across supplies.
So you grit your teeth and followed him, footsteps light.
You stepped directly in one of his boot prints, out of curiosity. His feet were much larger than yours.
You walked a little faster. Just in case.
Hat guy eyed you and nodded once. “We're taking the truck back,” he said. “You're in back.”
You almost wanted to object to that, mildly outraged, but, well… all four of these guys was pretty big, in the beefy military esque kind of way. They probably needed the space.
Still. Jerk.
“So you're the mechanic, eh? I'm Gaz.” He held out a hand to you, and it took you a moment to remember what a handshake was.
“Call me Soap.” He was next, quick to fall in on your other side so he and Gaz escorted you to the car. “Ye good with cars?”
“Dunno, you good with that thing?” You nodded to the big gun slung over his shoulder.
He laughed, grinning at you. “Aye,” he confirmed. “Ye'll do just fine. In ye go.” He opened the back seat to the car you'd almost looted yesterday, ushering you in. Gaz slipped around the other side.
Not only were they making you sit in the back, but in the middle. It had been a solid year since you'd been on a car, but you remembered how awful it was to sit in the middle seat.
The only big plus was that the big unfriendly guy was in the front.
“That's Price,” Gaz told you. “And Ghost.”
So the big mean guy was Ghost. Easier to avoid him when you knew his name.
“I'd say nice to meet you but I generally don't say that to people who almost dislocate my shoulder,” you snarked.
“Shouldn't have messed with the car.” Ghost didn't sound the least bit apologetic. Not that you expected him to.
Big asshole, for sure.
“Ye traveled a lot?” Soap interrupted, breaking Some of the tension.
“Eh. As needed.” You shrugged, uncomfortable as your shoulders rubbed his and Gaz's. “More than I really wanted to. Hard to stay in one place with cannibals around.”
“Cannibals? Really?” Gaz sounded mildly dubious.
“Really. Not like food is aplenty out there. Lots of canned goods are gone.”
“We grow a lot,” Gaz said, glancing at you.
“Not us,” Soap added with a cheeky grin. “Cannae grow shite, us. But the rest of the town, aye. Got a good lot of skills between us all.”
“But not a mechanic,” Price interjected.
“Least I'll have job security,” you joked, leaning back in your seat, refusing to show how uncomfortable you really were with the two men pressed close like this. “At least until everything quits working.”
“We'll find work for ye,” Soap assured you, grinning. “Plenty to go ‘round.”
That was not as reassuring as he intended it to be, but you didn't say so. That would just be fucking stupid, and you liked to think you weren't fucking stupid.
“How'd you end up here?” Gaz asked, expression open, hands relaxed in his lap. Oh, he was good. Could've gone into acting, this one.
Sure, he was acting all nice, but that was absolutely an interrogation question.
At least he was being nice, and not threatening to break anything.
So you told him. The short version. How you'd traveled for a bit with people, ran into cannibals, escaped with your life, and had been running from zombies ever since.
The end of the world had made most people absolutely bonkers.
All in all, it was a pretty gentle questioning. And you couldn't blame them, not if they really were taking you to a whole town full of people.
Price finally parked the car about mid-afternoon, and you got out gingerly, stiff from sitting still for so long. You stretched out, groaning softly as your shoulders and upper back popped.
Ghost stood to one side, watching you. You ignored him, even as you noted yet again just how fucking big he was.
Price invited you inside, leading the way to the house. It looked well kept, at least, windows all intact, a pile of wood just visible to one side. You stepped up into the house, not sure what to expect.
The mouth-watering smell of bread and some kind of stew was not it.
You swallowed back the obscene sound you wanted to make at just the smell of real cooked food, and wandered further in. A woman in the kitchen turned to greet everyone, smile wide and warm.
You hadn't seen anywhere so homey, so warm, since… Well. Before the zombies, for sure.
It rather astounded you how fast they folded you into the routine, showing you where to wash up, offering spare clothes, assigning you a seat at the table. Truth be told, it left you a little wrong footed, and you kept quiet through dinner.
So did Ghost.
Ghost was the one that showed you to the couch, told you you'd be staying there a few days. You didn't object, still too full and happy from a hot meal.
If they ended up being cannibals… Well, you'd die full. That wouldn't be so terrible.
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