This all started when @zaffrenotes sent me a prompt asking how Jake and Kara would meet in a zombie apocalypse au. So, thanks, D! Because now i’m obsessed with sweaty, bloody, dirty end of the world Jake and Kara. Ah, true love.
Warning: there will be violence, blood, death and adult relations in this series.
tunes: for estela and quinn- Panoramic Girl - Young The Giant
Acetate my heart
Bleach it then restart
You are the only
Image in my mind
Memorize the lines
And trace them slowly
Photographic soul
Stitch together pieces of a life I'll never know
Panoramic girl
You are just a memory that lives inside my dreams
(happy to include this for Jake and Estela day in @brightpinkpeppercorn and @mysteli ES APPRECIATION WEEK!)
TAGGING: @sleepwalkingelite @brightpinkpeppercorn @ooo-barff-ooo @zaffrenotes @endlessly-searching-for-you @mind-reader1 @agent-bossypants @endlesstaylormckenzie @indiacater @endlesshero1122 @akrenich @mysteli @feartheendlesssummer @sophie-summer @beccasbadchoices @nekkidmolerat @cordoniantrash @choices-is-life @choiceslife @simmerbychoices @blackcatkita this will be an ongoing series, so let me know if you’d like to join the fray!
Craig and Diego stood with their backs to Zahra as she knelt down before the lock. Pulling a well used bobby pin from an inside pocket of her jacket, she went to work on the lock as the two men kept their eyes open. Her fingers moved swiftly despite the chilly temperature- lock picking had been her hobby since her father taught it to her when she was six. “A puzzle for my little genius,” he would say, presenting her with a padlock and a thin strip of metal. She'd eagerly take it to sit in the corner, sticking her tongue out of the side of her mouth, working until the satisfying click of the lock would pop open and her father would applaud and she would beam. He'd always said it would come in handy one day. Breaking into these apartments in search of supplies and medicine that could save their friend's life seemed like a pretty handy time to be able to perform the task, and she was glad that she was able to do this for their group. She fiddled with the lock, listening for the sound she knew so well, turning, twisting the hair pin until, “We're in,” she rose to her feet and looked Craig in the eye.
“Nice job, Z,” he said, a tender look in his deep brown, nearly black eyes. He gently tucked a piece of her dark, asymmetrical hair behind her ear. The two of them seemed like an unlikely couple, but in truth they'd been completely sunk for each other since they met back in college, and thanks to a reunion that neither thought was necessary -“it's only been 4 years, I don't even miss anyone yet,” Zahra had protested- both had been dragged there by friends, and they'd reconnected. Their quickie wedding at the justice of the peace with as few people present as possible surprised no one that knew them. They had planned to go on an elaborate honeymoon trip visiting both of their families abroad, but then everything had gone to shit. Craig would sometimes joke that they were on their honeymoon right now, that it was a two player adventure game, but Zahra knew that what the big callused burly bear of a man was really saying, was “anywhere with you is special, anywhere with you is our honeymoon.” She had to agree.
Diego offered to stand guard outside, clutching this hammer tightly in his frozen fingers. Zahra and Craig nodded, Craig placing a hand on Diego's shoulder before following his wife inside. The first apartment that they tried was completely vacant- no furniture, no pictures on the walls or food in the cabinets. The next one yielded a crocheted blanket in pinks and purples- most likely belonging to a child- as well as a baseball bat and a can of baked beans that had rolled under a table. There were faded spots on the wall where frames used to hang, and it was clear that the family who lived here had taken their photographs with them, wherever they went. Zahra understood the sentiment, but the practicality of leaving what they left behind was lost on her. She handed the items to Craig who slipped them into his bag.
When they reached the third door they both froze, locking eyes. Sounds were coming from the other side of the wooden door; shuffling footsteps, uneven and slow, and rattling breaths. There were at least two of them in there. But there could also be things that they needed in there- things that Jake needed, that could save his life and possibly their own down the line. Craig moved in front of her and shouldered the door open, ready with the tire iron that he'd pulled off of that burned out firetruck a few months back, Zahra right behind him with her butterfly knife, swinging it open with a flick of her wrist. They were right in that at least two of the undead were behind that door. They were wrong in thinking it was only two.
Five sets of blank, unseeing eyes turned on them from various spots in the room, and they braced themselves, changing strategies in their heads. What used to be a middle aged woman lunged at Zahra from the right, decaying flesh hanging loosely from her thin arms, teeth bared through her stripped lips. Zahra ducked under the thing's outstretched limbs and twirled behind it, moving more quickly than her attacker, and plunged her knife into it's temple up the the handle. Craig took a step towards the next one, swinging his tire iron at his head, knocking it from the shoulders like a golf ball from a tee. The remaining three were closing in on them, two of them had once been children, and Zahra wondered what blankets or toys or other trappings of childhood they'd find that would break her husband's heart. She shook her head to clear those thoughts, not wanting to be distracted. She readied her knife as Craig prepared to dispatch the once elderly man that was raising its one good arm and dragging a limp leg behind it. They finished they job quickly before rushing to one another to check the other for bites and other wounds. Craig breathed the sigh of relief he always did when he realized that she was safe, and she let him ruffle her hair because it made them both feel better. They began to search the room for anything useful: some batteries from the remote, the base of a heavy lamp that would make a great bashing tool, a handful of cough drops that were in a side table drawer. They were about to move into the kitchen when they heard the door to the apartment open, and Diego's voice protesting. “Hey, hey, alright, listen let's talk, okay?”
They dropped the items in their hands- an oven mitt, a cook book- and raced out to the living room to see their friend being held hostage by a tall, lean, muscular woman, her coffee colored hair pulled back in a high ponytail, a long scar running from the top of one eye brow, vertically through her eye to the top of her cheek. She held a short dagger to Diego's throat with one hand, and Diego's hammer in her other. “Talk,” she barked in a heavily accented voice. “Talk and tell me why I shouldn't kill you.”
Zahra blinked at the woman before dropping her knife and holding her hands up steadily. Craig followed suit, letting his tire iron clang to the floor. “Because we're alive,” Zahra said. “Because we aren't them.” she nodded to the dispatched zombies on the ground. “How's that for starters?”
“Just because you aren't the undead doesn't mean you can be trusted. What are you doing here? What do you want?” She snarled, tightening her grip on the knife until her knuckles went white.
“Just looking for supplies. Our friend is hurt,” normally Zahra would try to hide the fact that there were more of them, but something in this woman's eyes, though in full animalistic selof preservation mode, told her that she was reasonable. “We're just looking for things that could help him.” She had taken a few small steps toward the woman and Diego, and it didn't appear as though she'd noticed. “I'm Zahra, that's Craig,” she gestured slowly towards the man behind her. “And you've already met Diego, I see. Who are you?”
“Why should I tell you?” her voice faltered just a bit as it finally registered that Zahra had gotten so close- close enough that she was able to pull the arm around Diego's neck down, squeezing a pressure point on the woman's hand that made her drop the dagger. Craig flew forward and retrieved it and the woman cursed in Spanish.
“Tell us, or don't tell us,” Zahra shrugged. “But we need to search these apartments until we find what our friend needs, and you're not going to stop us. Diego stepped away from the woman, joining Craig behind Zahra.
The woman eyed them all for another moment, a battle behind her eyes over what to tell them, what to offer. She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine. I guess you're not here to kill me or rape me. I'm Estela. What does your friend need? I...I might be able to help.” something like sympathy passed over the woman's face, softening it significantly. It was clear she'd reverted to some kind of instinctual action when she'd captured Diego, a scared animal on the defensive with an intruder in her den.
“Antibiotics. Medicine. Food.” Zahra said plainly.
Estela nodded. “Follow me.” She led them outside and around the corner and pointed up at a balcony with a long rope dangling from it. “I busted the stairs with a sledge hammer on the inside. That's the only way up.” She grabbed on and nimbly pulled herself up the rope, barely even using her legs to climb. The others followed, Diego reaching the top last. Estela pulled the rope up behind him, letting it curl on the floor of the balcony. She knocked twice on the sliding glass door and they realized there must be someone else inside. Craig wrapped his hand around Zahra's, and Diego stayed behind Estela while a tall man with kind eyes and short, curly dark hair came to the door. He was holding a pistol down at his side, seeing that it was Estela, and he promptly opened the door. “Stel,” he questioned. “Everything good?”
“Yeah, Sean, found these idiotas downstairs in 7B- the one we trapped the things inside. They need help...they...they have a sick friend,” and again that flash of sympathy crossed her face, chaging the way she looked if only for a second. Zahra wondered who she'd lost to put that look into her hard, strong eyes.
Sean nodded and gave Estela a small, knowing smile and stepped aside. “Come on in,” he said to their guests as they entered the apartment. They made their introductions and explained their situation; what had happened to Jake, the trafficker that Kara had dispatched, Michelle's quick actions that saved Jake's life temporarily.
“You have a doctor?” Estela asked distantly, and Sean shifted his eyes to his friend. Zahra picked up on it and knew she was right- this woman had lost someone, and probably recently, and the fact that a doctor was here now, just days or weeks after she'd suffered whatever loss she'd suffered...well, it was clear she was wishing that the timing had been different. Craig and Diego continued to explain things to Sean. Zahra let her eyes wander around the apartment. This one looked well lived in, cozy. Blankets and pillows covered the couches, the shelves were full of books, and the walls here were still hung with picture frames; Some depicted Sean and what must have been his mother, or him with a group of friends, or him with two younger kids that looked just like him, siblings perhaps. Most of the photos though depicted Estela with a beautiful copper haired woman, small and ethereal looking, with big bright eyes. One photo showed the two in front of a waterfall, Estela's arms around the woman's neck, her lips pressing a kiss to her cheek as she laughed, another showed them in front of a Christmas tree, the shorter woman on her tip toes, dangling a bundle of mistletoe over their heads as they looked into each other's eyes. The one that caught Zahra's heart in her throat, though, was the one of the two of them in white dresses, the small, copper haired woman looking right into the camera with a brilliant smile, Estela looking at her wife with awe and love. Zahra didn't need to wonder anymore, she knew who Estela had lost.
Estela's eyes followed Zahra's to the picture from the wedding, and her dry, withered heart chipped and cracked as it called for Quinn but again went unanswered. She tried only to remember the good times with her beautiful wife, of which there were plenty. Quinn had softened all of Estela's edges, had shown her how to look for the good in everyone, how to trust people, how to care deeply. Estela closed her eyes and imagined that she was here now, her delicate fingers braiding Estela's hair or tracing her scars, her soft, bubblegum lips leaving hot trails down her neck. She swallowed the lump in her throat, remembering how silky her skin felt when it was pressed against her own, how gorgeous she looked when their bodies would twine, when Estela would bring her to the edge of pleasure causing her to throw her head back, mermaid locks tumbling over her shoulder, eyes hooded and mouth in a perfect little O. She remembered the rush of warmth she felt in her own body at the sounds Quinn would make, at the way her thighs felt in Estela's hands, at the way she tasted sweeter than honey. But mostly, Estela tried to remember her healthy and smiling, instead of weak and frail like she'd been in the end, once the hospitals shut down and she couldn't get her treatments anymore. Estela didn't like to talk about it much; Sean of course knew, as the three of them had formed an odd type of family, but something about Zahra's calm logic and level headedness made her trust her, and she thought maybe she might confide in her someday.
“And we have to save him,” Diego was saying. “My best friend Kara... she...she loves him...they...they need each other.”
Sean stood. “Well, lucky for you that Estela and I cased the whole complex and own every antibiotic, vitamin, pain relief and sleep aid that was left behind. We have some first aid supplies too, not a ton, but maybe something that could help. And,” he rose and crossed to a kitchen cabinet, opening it to display rows and rows of canned tuna, vegetables, beans and soup.
Craig, Diego and Zahra's eyes widened and they felt hope for the first time in days. Their last real meal had been yesterday morning when Zahra had been able to rig a trap for a couple of squirrels that Jake and Kara expertly skinned and cooked before the group had split up to do recon of the area around the apartment complex. Estela stood as well grabbing a bag from the counter and throwing some cans into it. She went into the bathroom and gathered a bottle each of antibiotic and ibuprofen, a roll of gauze, a sealed pair of forceps, four wrapped band aids and a tube of Neosporin. She came back into the living room where they were gathered and said, “Let's go, your friend needs this, right?” Without looking at anyone, she headed out to the balcony and threw the rope over the side.
Zahra looked at Sean. “How long ago was it?” she asked.
Sean looked back at her, a look of confusion not over why she asked what she asked, but how she knew. “Um...just...just about a month ago,” he said, eyes flicking to the wedding picture on the wall. “She was sick, from before...Rotterdam's disease, it's pretty rare...and she...” he sighed. “After the hospitals closed she started fading pretty fast. Estela was able to keep her going with whatever medication she could find...and love...she loved her so hard...but in the end...it just,” he sighed again. “Wasn't enough.” Craig and Diego looked at their shoes, not surprised that Zahra had picked up on the unspoken clues. She was as perceptive as she was hard to read.
Estela poked her head back in the room. “What's the hold up, let's go,” she called, and the cold air of the outside must have revitalized her because the bark was back in her tone.
Jake knew he was in a fever dream, because he was distantly aware of a dull pain in his abdomen, of Kara's hands in his hair and on his cheek, of the cold ground below him. But he was also standing in the lawn mower aisle of a well lit and bustling hardware store.
Employees in bright aprons helped customers left and right, but he strode confidently towards what he needed, not having to ask for help. When he reached the spot where they kept the replacement blades, he was met with the largest pair of crystal blue eyes he'd ever seen, as the woman standing in front of the blades turned towards him. Her hair danced around her shoulders as she spun, wafting the smell of flowery shampoo his way. It hit him like an arrow to the heart and he smiled involuntarily at her.
“Hi there, princess, mind if I grab one of those packs a blades there?” he pointed past her but kept his eyes on hers.
“Sure thing,” she said, her voice like a wind chime, and she handed him one of the packs.
“You need any help, ma'am?” he asked her.
She shook her head and smirked. “No thanks, Top Gun,” she saluted him playfully. “Got it covered, I know what I'm lookin' for.”
“Impressive,” he mused. “Most people just scrap their mowers. They don' even know 'bout replacement blades.”
“Well I'm not most people,” she winked. “I'm Kara, by the way.”
“Jake,” he said. “Wanna get a drink?”
He felt himself smile through the dream as sweat dripped down his forehead. He often dreamed about what it would be like if they'd met before the world turned to shit, if they'd actually had been given a chance for something solid and normal and true. He loved her, that was certain, but he longed to be able to love her on a Saturday morning, lounging in bed. He longed to be able to love her at a holiday table full of friends and family. He longed to be able to love her as they rocked on a porch, old and gray and tired but happy. He longed for anything more than these remnants of what life used to be. But damn if he wasn't the happiest man on the planet for getting to love her at all, in any way, and for getting to be loved by her. He opened his eyes and looked up at her as she gazed down at him, and gave her a weak smile. “Hey, princess, how...how ya doin'?”
“Jake,” she whimpered, lowering her lips to his and pressing a trembling kiss there. “I'm so glad you're awake...I...” she sniffled, trying to keep the tears in her eyes this time. Michelle sat silently in the corner, staring at the door, waiting for their friends to come back. Her thin fingers were wrapped around her scissors, just in case.
The door opened and Craig and Zahra spilled inside, followed by Diego and their new acquaintances. Estela held the bag out in front of her as her eyes found Jake and Kara. She saw the man in his lovers arms and another crumbly piece of her heart turned to dust as she remembered holding Quinn in her last moments. She locked eyes with Kara and hoped beyond hope that she wouldn't have to go through what Estela went through every morning when she woke up and every evening when she went to sleep and every moment that she couldn't hold Quinn's hand. “We heard you needed help,” she said quietly as Michelle eagerly took the bag. Kara breathed a sigh of relief and Estela felt it in her soul.
Remnants of what used to be, that was what was left of the world. But not all of them were bad. The remnant of their love that had turned Estela into the caring, loyal, protective woman that she was today, that was one of the remnants that allowed for hope to root, deep in the cracks of the world, and deep in the cracked remains of Estela's heart.
Fix me in the wash
Strip my colors off
You are the vision
Swimming in my sight
Captured in the light
A crystal prism
Photographic soul
Stitch together pieces of a life I'll never know
Panoramic girl
You are just a memory that lives inside my dreams
