Inside, outside
Pairings: 10k x reader, Addy Carver × sister reader
Warnings: Swearing, usual violence towards Z’s
Chapter: 5.05
People. Zombies. Bombs. Chaos.
Altura still hadn’t recovered from the bombing, and survivors were still scrambling to try and find their loved ones. You felt a sense of guilt knowing that some had lost everyone and everything, while you still had 10k and Red. Red was more concerned than either of you that Doc, Warren, and Murphy were nowhere to be seen, but you had a gut feeling they were gone but not dead.
“I’d bet any money the three of them will turn up soon. Murphy, no doubt caught up in something dangerous, he’ll drag the rest of them into.”
10k suddenly jolts up in the cot; it takes him a moment to gather his bearings. Once he realizes his place in your shared rent, he leans his head back, using his hand to grip the bedsheets before feeling for you.
“Do you feel any better?”
“A little,” he confirms. His voice was raspy from being in a deep sleep less than a minute before. “I had a dream we were still living out on the road, still on the mission to get that dickhead to California, and we kept encountering the same issues as before except this time we had a baby... I was useless. I could hold my own child or even take out a z; everyone had to do it for me.”
You lean forward and kiss the crown of his head. “You will be able to use your gun again; it will just take time to adjust.”
“You don’t know that.”
Seeing the doubt in his eyes, he said, “Yes, I do. Because I know the second you sense danger, your fatherly instincts will kick in, and protecting this baby will be the most natural thing in the world.”
He closes his eyes. “I hope so.”
You stand and offer him your hand. “Come on, once we’ve had breakfast, I’m going to help you practice.”
—
Behind the main buildings in Altura is a wooded area in which Red has set up a shooting range for 10k to practice his aim. So far, he has missed the tin can with every shot he has taken. The part of the hospital that had prosthetic limbs was destroyed during the bombing, and Sun Mei said it would be a while before new ones were made. He was given a leather pouch to cover his stump with a hook on the end of it, which was causing him to struggle to keep grip on his weapon.
“Just take your time,” Red says, reassuring him.
When 10K misses the target again, he lets out a hiss of pain. You motion to his stump and say, “Let me take a look.”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine if you’re in pain.”
Knowing you wouldn’t let it go, 10k pulls down the leather pouch for you to inspect his stitches. The swelling was going down, but infection was weeping from the stitches. “You need to show Sun Mei and get more antibiotics.”
“Maybe you should take a break or use your left hand,” Red suggests.
“Just forget it.”
Red looks upset as 10k walks away. You place your hand on her shoulder and say, “Hey, thank you. It might not seem like it, but I know Tommy really appreciates everything you’re doing for him.”
She pulls you in for a hug. “I’m really scared; we are lucky we survived the first bombing. What if there’s another?”
“Then we do the same thing: keep each other safe.”
—
When you can’t find 10k in the medical bay, you go looking for him in the woods, but he spots you first. He puts his finger to his lips, signaling for you to remain silent, then waves you over. Crouching down beside him, you watch as two men shock a z with an electric baton, forcing it into one of the buildings, which looked empty aside from a few vans.
“What do we do?” You whisper.
“We gotta know where he’s taking it.”
You stay close to him as you make your way into the building. You jump back and grip onto his shoulder when Z's fingers peek through the crack underneath a large metal door, with metal chains covering the door as an extra precaution. 10k presses his ear against another securely locked door.
Quietly, you say, “It sounds like wild animals behind the doors.”
10k says nothing and leans back. Seconds later, a beeping sound fills the room, followed by the sound of a door opening and footsteps. 10k points to a large shipping truck, and you both crawl underneath it to avoid being seen.
From the spot you’re in, you notice Florida license plates on the back of the van in front. The man paces back and forth before eventually leaving the building.
You crawl out first, being careful so your stomach doesn’t rub against the concrete ground. You help 10K up and begin to dust yourself down, noting the fresh trail of mud tracks with traces of blood on the ground.
10k whispers, “We should go before—oh shit.”
A man’s voice comes from the opposite side of the truck. “Let’s get this shit over with.”
Not knowing where to go, you run to one of the other shipping trucks and climb into the back of it. When it starts to move slowly you ask, “Do we jump?”
Before you can make a decision, the back of the truck is facing the large metal doors, which are now unlocked, and a large ball made up of Z’s clutched together comes rolling towards you.
With no way of escaping, 10k points to the panels on the ceiling of the truck. “Whatever you do, don’t let go.”
—
You feel physically sick watching as 10k struggles to hold onto the wooden panel, which was the only thing keeping him from being devoured by the Z’s below. He was too far away for you to help him, and if you made any noise, the driver would hear it and most likely shoot the both of you.
When the truck comes to a sudden stop and the doors at the back open, allowing the Z’s to roll out of it, When the engine is turned back on, you both let go of the panels and jump down just as the truck starts to move off again, leaving the both of you deserted in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but trees. You sigh, noticing the pouch 10K had covering his wound was gone.
Even though you land on your feet, 10K is beside you with a worried look on his face. “Soon as we get to safety, we are done; no more adventures for either of us.”
You place your hand on your stomach and say, “As happy as I am that we have Doc and Warren back in our lives, I sometimes wish we never left the treehouse.”
—
“How far along do you think you are?”
Because of the bombing, you never got your scan. You tried to work it out, but since you didn’t track days, it was impossible to actually know. “Since I’m not showing, I’d say I’m still in my first trimester. Maybe in five or six weeks, what do you think?”
When you don’t get an answer, you look back and see 10k crouching down, looking at some footprints left in the dirt. “These are Doc and Warren's footsteps.”
Noticing a small hill, you run up it and see newly dug graves. Seeing a fairly clean bandana on the ground, you kneel down to get it. You wipe it off and give it to 10k; he ties it around his stump to keep it covered.
You study the graves and are thankful you don’t know any of the names carved onto the wooden crosses above each one. Hearing a faint, snarling noise, you turn to see a Z coming up behind you.
You stumble backwards, “Tommy!”
He grabs one of the wooden planks sticking out of the ground, snaps it, and then stabs the Z in the head.
“Eight thousand six hundred and nine.”
While getting to your feet, you notice a red mark on a wooden sign. “It looks like spray paint. Do we follow it?”
He nods.
While following the road, you notice a few more of the red marks left behind on trees. Luckily, it was only the odd Z you came across; 10K was trying to shoot and was swaying on its feet, walking in your direction. After several failed attempts, he uses the opposite hand and manages to shoot it in the head.
“Eight thousand six hundred and ten,” you smile.
—
Soon as you make it to a small town, you take cover behind a car with the same red markings on it. It was parked outside a building with distant music coming from it.
“Are you sure about this? What if it’s a trap?”
“I’ll go in first,” 10K says. “You keep a good distance behind me; if it’s safe, I’ll wave for you to follow.”
You plant a soft kiss on his lips and say, “Okay.”
A side door is open, so it’s easy for you to get inside.10k enters the building first, checking it was clear before waving you to follow. When you reach the room the staircase you’re walking down leads to, 10k goes in first. Sweat drips down your brow as you wait to hear his voice call out, and you let out a sigh of relief when you finally hear him again. “Oh my god,” he calls back to you. “Astra, it’s safe to come in; it’s Doc!”
The room is filled with red lights, giving the impression that it was a seedy nightclub. Soon as you walk in, you see 10k and Doc hugging, and you rush over to join them. “I’m so glad you’re okay, Doc; we've got so much shit we need to tell you! Are Warren and Murphy with you?”
“I’m glad you kids are safe.”
10k steps back from the hug first and taps you on the shoulder. “Uh, it’s your sister.”
You open your eyes, and for the first time in years, you see Addy standing before you. Her hair was much darker and longer than you remember, and from the glaze in her eyes, you could tell she was drunk.
“Hey sis.”
You stare at her speechless; nobody has ever broken your heart like she did, and seeing her again, smiling as if nothing happened, opens up the old wound you tried so hard to heal.
Hearing more steps approaching, your hand goes to a glass bottle sitting on the table next to you.
“Oh my god,” Warren says when she notices you. “You two have no idea how worried we were after hearing about the bombing.”
Warren sees your struggle to hold back tears and pulls you in for a hug and whispers, “I’ve got you, baby girl; I’ve got you.”
—
You look at Murphy suspiciously as he pours out drinks from behind a bar. He was dressed in a red suit, which matched his red skin. When he offers you a cup, you push it back and say, "No thanks.”
He grunts, “Not good enough for you, princess.”
Rolling your eyes, you walk over to join the rest of your group, sitting around a circle table. It felt weird to be with 10K, Doc, Warren, Addy, and Murphy at the same time again. George was there as well, but it still felt like old times.
You sit beside 10K, who was explaining what you saw. “Those vans are being loaded up deliberately. Somebody’s shipping a truckload of zombie tourists.”
“So you think it’s Altura?” Warren asks.
“I don’t know.”
“It’s where we saw the vans, but it could be anybody.”
While the conversation continues, Addy tries to make eye contact with you, but given the amount of alcohol you witnessed her drink, you pretended not to notice.