Author: Keenon PM
"Again, this is not a test. This is not a joke. We as a species are overwhelmed. We are outnumbered." Zombie Apocalypse cross country trip, anyone? Slash in later chapters.Rated: Fiction T - English - Adventure/Suspense - Chapters: 6 - Words: 22,890 - Reviews: 8 - Favs: 4 - Follows: 4 - Updated: 08-06-11 - Published: 12-09-10 - id: 6542884
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Hey, long time no see. Welcome to me procrastinating on finishing a review for a good friend of mine by writing this story. I suck. I'm sorry this took so long to puke out, I've actually had it almost finished for a long time and I just never bothered to wrap it up till I got a lovely review from Writers' Anonymous1 who kicked me back into action. Anyway, this is an extra, extra long chapter as an apology with a bit of progression in the slash relationship you lovely people have been waiting for for so long!
Warning: Nudity and inappropriate situations
The next morning brought the soreness of sleeping pressed against the chilled floor and two other people. There was a lot of grunting and squirming and cursing and at least they were fucking warm. Breakfast was made in the car by Levan who refused to get out and do another search of the garage. Campbell, however, did as Mark made his way to the lifting door. Having to manually force it open just to get out. A breath of fresh, warm air swept in.
Today they would cross over into Kansas to make their way up into Nebraska, following I-29. The roads here, however, weren't nearly as crowded as the ones leading to New Orleans. They were no longer forced to the shoulder, on the contrary, Mark was practically riding the yellow line as they stared out into the sandy-hued landscape.
"I spy with my little eye something…green." It was Levan's turn, her hazel irises were flicking around the cab in search of her next item. Whose idea it was to play this ridicules game, who knew, but it at least broke the silence.
"Is it...Campbell's bracelet?" Campbell glanced down to the silly band that adorned his own wrist as if it were a surprise, it was a kangaroo. How it'd managed to say on all this long was beyond him. To be entirely honest he'd forgotten it was there. Something about a bet to see who could keep theirs from breaking the longest back in college with the pals. They'd dropped by the first CVS to pick up a package of this impractical fad and had split it amongst the group of them back before this whole end-of-the-world mess.
"Noo." Levan's tone held a grin, as if she was the most mischievous woman they'd ever have the pleasure of meeting.
"What about your shirt?" It was Campbell that spoke up this time. Levan simply shook her head, pursing her lips as if she were willing away the smile that threatened.
"Our Monster cans?"
"Mark's sleeping bag?"
"Nope." This sing-song exchange continued for a good few minutes before the boys unanimously gave up and pressed the blonde to explain what exactly she'd been looking at. It was the back of their CD's that littered the space in-between the two front seats. The threesome all laughed a bit before settling back, it was Mark's turn.
It took almost three hours to get out of Missouri and two to get out of Kansas. Five hours of road running with no breaks. Somewhere on I-29 Campbell actually had the time to sit back and realize a number of things. Some deep involving the fact that his parents and friends are all probably dead and some shallow like the realization that they all were fucking filthy. Like, beyond filthy.
Mark's usually stylized hair was dark and stringy with grease and sweat and dirt and God knows what else. His clothes were soaked with the same disgusting swill - at least he'd changed out of the shirt that still had dark, rope-like lines that came from the infected's saliva. They'd spoken of that particular situation very little but they unanimously called it a Tongue-Thing. Not exactly formal but who cared.
Levan, usually so beautiful (even back in high school), was almost as filthy looking as Mark. In an attempt to hide the grease that laced her own light blonde hair she'd tied it up into a high ponytail. It didn't help much but he knew it must kill her to allow the sharp degrade in self-hygiene. When she was younger she was stickler about keeping up an image. Not in a shallow type of way, but more to make an impression.
And then he himself. Oh God, he didn't even want to look in the side mirror. The last time he did he found himself flush with utter mortification. He had never been vain about his appearance, a few goes to the gym every week or so to keep off the extra pounds and maybe running the straightener through his hair once or twice so it wouldn't get in his face in the middle of the day was about it. But this was pushing the line. It might have been bothering him before but now he could actually dwell on the thought that damn, he needed a fucking shower.
"Bren?" The voice almost came as a surprise as Campbell forced his attention from the landscape out the opened windows back into the cab. Mark was looking at him from the corner of his eye, not taking his attention from the road as he weaved around the traffic that was slowly beginning to disperse again. They'd driven around Lincoln, Nebraska's capitol, at least fifteen minutes ago. Mark had been trying to keep to the middle of the road as he usually did but in the end they found themselves on the shoulder again.
"Mm?" He made a noncommittal noise in response.
"You ok?" This time he lifted an eyebrow, nodding quickly.
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"Because Lev's been trying to talk to you for the past five minutes." Oh…Goddamn it. Blinking in surprise a few times he gnarled around in the seat to get a proper view of their blonde counterpart. She was on the ground looking up at him from her knees as she opened the cooler in the seat. An eyebrow lifted to match his own, as if mocking him.
"Oh. Sorry Lev, what is it?" She shook her head in mock disdain before turning back to the cooler and fishing around in the melting ice for the bag they kept lunchmeat in.
"I asked if you wanted lunch now, Mark said we aren't stopping till tonight."
"Yeah, sure. Thanks." His ears were growing hot with flush, he jolted when Mark spoke up again.
"You sure you're ok, man? You seem really out of it." The brunette drummed his fingers on the steering wheel to the quiet radio. The stations had stopped coming in - all save for the broadcast warning people where to go and what to do, and that was old news - so their entertainment laid solely on Levan's CD's. Somewhere in the back of his mind he noted that the next time they stopped he was going to raid for new music. Not to say Lev's music wasn't good, it was just the fact that she only had about three CD's in all. The Hush Sound, the Goo Goo Dolls, and Anberlin.
"It's nothing." He paused, as if thinking over the sentence before he reiterated. "But what I wouldn't give for a shower." A soft groan from the back startled both of them, Levan had dropped the food and turned around to poke her head in-between the two front seats. Her expression almost pained.
"Oh my God, Campbell. You have no idea. The last time I was this dirty in front of other people was when I went to camp in the fourth grade and the showers there were out of order for three days because of mould." Both boys blinked at the sudden outburst a moment before Mark broke into a sympathetic smile, chuckling softly as he nodded.
"What do you plan on doing about it?" He turned back to Campbell. The redhead shrugged.
"I'unno." It wasn't like they could just pull off the next exit to some suburbs, break into someone's house, and pray that their water still ran. That's leaving a lot to chance; besides, since their last run in with other uninfected wasn't exactly pleasant he was a bit more than reluctant to go anywhere humans might be.
"What if we stopped at a campsite?" Both glanced down to where Levan looked up, a smile met them.
"Yeah, you know, the ones where people take their tents and campers and just chill for the holiday or whatever."
"Why would we stop at a campsite?" Campbell had an eyebrow cocked in scrutiny, the last one of Levan's ploys to stop almost got him infected. He liked to think he was within his boundaries to be a bit scrutinizing. Her expression did a one-eighty, her brow creasing in a soft, almost pouty frown.
"Sometimes when my family would go down to Florida we'd camp out and every site we went to had their own bathhouse with their own water system." She emphasized. "If there's one we could just stop there for the night instead of driving all the way to Kearney." The prospect of an actual shower was a bit too good to pass up. Pursing his lips gingerly he gnarled around and plucked the Atlas from the glove box.
"And you're sure that these little RV dumps have their own systems?" It was Mark, Campbell almost tuned them out as he scrutinized the little wiry lines. With his finger he trailed across the paper, routing their trip until he hit I-80, then he followed down the slightly thicker line across the state. Henderson, Aurora, Wood River, Gibbon? There was a few patches of green there. Jackpot.
"Windmill State Recreation Area." His tone cut into the conversation he'd previously tuned out, both Levan and Mark perked up. Glancing up briefly to make sure he had their attention he continued. "There's a Rec. area about fifteen miles down the road, we should be able to make it there in no time."
"To Windmill State we go." Mark's voice was painted with a grin.
Twenty minutes down the road they were pulling off exit 295 onto Lowell Road. They could see the park entrance from the turn, a large welcome sign greeted them from the right side of the road. He glanced out into the field beyond. Everything was growing…brown. They were past the point of seeing dense thickets of trees, it was a bit unnerving to delve into an oasis of shade.
Shoving these thoughts aside the redhead turned his focus back to the road before them. Trees and bushes lined the path in what was supposed to be a welcoming manner. To himself, however, it only felt…ominous. Like they were promising nothing pleasant. Levan's voice jerked him from this petrifying train of thought.
"We should find the front office first."
"We need a map - and besides, sometimes these places pack a camp store. We could get lucky?" Or we could get screwed over, like the last two times they stopped somewhere to gather supplies. The odds weren't exactly in their favor.
"…Alright then, where do you think this store is?" From the rearview mirror he could see her shrug before facing out the window.
"Woah woah, Mark! Turn here." A sharp left had them on a route that had turned them around, back towards the road. And towards a cabin; on a sign adorning the top of the door it read on a wooden plaque 'Office'. A small gravel lot was before it with two trucks lounging in the sun. This did nothing to settle the redhead's nerves. Cars meant people. People meant infected, or worse. When they parked he fished out their two pistols, flipping his own open to make sure it was loaded before passing one over to Mark.
"Do you want to wait in the car while we check it out?" Mark nodded towards the homely building but Levan shook her head rapidly, frowning softly as she pushed open her door to get out. Taking a moment to stretch - a few bones crackling in pleasure at the leave before they all crowded together to stroll across the gravel.
Campbell was the first to push open the door and step in. It was lovely, being greeted with a nice stale wave of rotten meat. Awesome. His grip tightened around the pistol but Mark mentioned to him that the smell was only a freezer that'd been left open to spoil. In it a few steaks and TV dinners lay, decayed. His stomach still knotted over at the familiar smell, it was putrid. What he wouldn't give to just leave and go search for showers.
"But we don't have any shampoo, Camps." Levan had reasoned when he voiced his opinion aloud. He couldn't really fight with that, and that's how he found himself among the toiletries aisle near the back. This whole ordeal was too…peaceful. It made him antsy. For the umpteenth time he glanced over his shoulder to check on Mark and Lev, who were currently sifting through the canned goods. It was apparent that no one had raided this place yet, everything was practically untouched.
"How many batteries do we have?"
"I think we have a four pack left. Do we have any cans of ravioli left?"
"Uh, I think maybe one. I'm not sure."
It was underneath the quiet banter between Mark and Lev that he heard a soft hum. The buzzing of gnats and flies and everything else that confirmed his haunch that this place wasn't somewhere they should be. Pursing his lips he glanced around. First at the floor; then over the aisle. Nothing. Nostrils flaring he inhaled again. That wasn't just the smell of stale steaks. There was something undeniably human about it.
"Mark," He croaked barely above a whisper. He wasn't surprised when the brunette didn't hear him. Clearing his throat gently he repeated a bit louder. "Mark. Mark, we need to get out of here." Apparently that caught their attention, both their heads snapping to attention. "What is it?" The voice in response was softer than before, mimicking Campbell's own tone. Said redhead turned to look at both faces. Two sets of wide eyes met him.
"That's not the smell of rotten beef…" Levan's brow wrinkled at his words, her grip on the navy shoulder bag she brought from the car tightening visibly. She frowned deeply before shoveling in a few things on the shelf into the gaping opening as Mark retrieved his pistol that he'd previously shoved into a pocket. They both made their way back to Campbell quickly to grab whatever shampoo or soap they needed before they retreated back to the entrance. The buzz of flies grew louder as they passed the counter, none of them were curious enough to glance back over the cash register.
"We should have grabbed a map in there, I don't know what the hell I was thinking." There was a frown in Levan's tone, she mentally hit herself for not planning their trip out a bit better. Sometime tomorrow she would have to coax the boys to run back in the camp store and pick up a few things before they left. There's no point in leaving a perfectly untouched store untouched. Especially when there were a few things they needed at their disposal. Like drinks and ice, for instance.
"It's alright Lev, we can just drive around till we see a sign. It shouldn't be too hard." Mark was smiling as he flexed his grip on the wheel, and honestly, Campbell had to agree. They lay out campsites like this to be idiot-proof. The only thing that unnerved him was the amount of campers and tents here. On the drive he'd seen at least six, maybe more. He bit his tongue and kept quiet, there were other things to stress over. Such as keeping his bite from getting infected.
With that thought at mind he turned about in his seat till he was groping underneath it, where they'd decided to keep the med-kit. Mark spared him but a glance before turning back to the road, telling Lev to keep an eye open for any signs.
It took almost five minutes but in the back of the camp they saw it. Bathhouse. It was a small wooden building accented with green trim with a wood cut sign, very similar to the one that hung over the office building. Most importantly, though, was the front gravel lot clearly meant for cars. Campbell practically signed in relief when he saw no other vehicles was out.
"So, how we doin' this?" Mark put the car in park as he spoke, turning in his seat to look at the passengers.
"I'm not showering with either of you," Levan's tone was teasing even though her expression was set. The brunette simply put his hands up in defense, smiling sheepishly as if he'd been caught red-handed.
"Alright, alright. Just keep the door unlocked just incase we need to come in and kick some ass for you, ok?" His tone was equally light though the serious undertone was there. They'd have to keep on their toes despite everything else, they didn't have the time to go through and clear out this entire campsite. She just nodded before digging around in the navy bag, fishing out a travel-sized bottle of shampoo and conditioner with an extra bar of soap. As for towels, they'd just have to cross their fingers and hope that they were complimentary or something.
It was a one person bathroom complete with a semi-clean shower, a toilet, a mirror, and a little shelf to leave clothes or toiletries. Campbell and Mark exchanged a glance before the former grinned, shoving the brunette to the side and scrambling towards the only shower. Like hell he was going to wait for this! A real shower? After almost a week without? That would be insane!
"I call first!"
"Uh, no!" And then there was a hand on his arm, pulling him back so Mark could squirm in first. Said brunette tore at his shirt in attempt to undress quicker. With that it became a race who could tear off their clothing fastest, as if it would help get into the shower first. In about a minute there was a pool of dirty cloth on the floor and two naked college students shoving at each other to get into a moldy ceramic shower.
Among all this neither was really sure who turned on the cool spray of water that belched out of the showerhead, or who exactly it was who squealed like a girl - though Campbell would swear up and down that it totally wasn't him, or who it was that slipped first. All that both were entirely sure of was the fact that both soaked frames were pushed against the wall, two strong hands splayed out beside Campbell's head as Mark caught himself from falling.
A pair of sapphire irises blinked down at him, wide with shock as Campbell pursed his lips with equal surprise. Wow. This really wasn't what he'd had in mind when he thought of cleaning off. Swallowing roughly he pressed back into the ceramic wall, away from the brunette looming over him. For a moment a guilty, sheepish grin flashed across Mark's face as he pushed back.
"Uh, sorry. I'll just, uh, leave you to it." And with that the tanned figure backed out of the shower, leaving a stunned redhead against the wall. A warming spray of camp water cascading down his lean figure. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. Blinking twice more Campbell finally inhaled deeply through his nose, shoving up off the wall. Gathering his wits enough to close the curtain after reaching out for a bottle of shampoo.
What the hell just happened? Breathing in deeper he shakily twisted the cap off the tiny bottle before squirting a hefty amount into his palm, somewhere in the back of his head he noted the smell of Dove. But that's unimportant. What is important? The too-familiar flutter knotting his stomach. Like…the kind of flutter he'd get back in the dorm. Back when finals were leaving their mark on his conscious, when Mark would help…take the load off.
But this isn't in college, in fact, this is nothing like it and right now is definitely not the time to have those gut wrenching butterflies. Seriously. It's a zombie apocalypse. Most certainly not the time to be thinking about anything like that. Forcing another deep inhale he scrubbed at his hair, running a hand through the shoulder-length locks. It was getting pretty long, he'd have to talk Lev into giving him a haircut or something.
Of course they'd have to find scissors or a knife sharp enough to cut it. He liked it long but there was a point of going too far and he drew the line after it got past the shoulders. Ever since high school he'd been letting it grow, when he fell into the wanna-be scene crowd. Of course that fad had been long gone but the hair was something he ended up liking. Why get rid of a good thing, righ - oh God!
His trail of thought was all but shattered because at that very moment there was a sudden warmth pressed against him. The breath he'd just been taking snagged in his throat, his eyes widening under the heated shower as the undeniable form of a body pursed into his back. Two thick arms snaked their ways around his waist. Pulling his ample form back to fit the contortions of what was, undoubtedly, Mark.
Swallowing thickly he curled shaky fingers against his hair, their current position being to comb out suds from the ginger tufts. At his hips those large hands made their way against him, snaking up to the planes of his stomach back down to the v shaped ridge in his pelvis before skittering back up to his navel again. As if they were shy. But this is Mark, and Mark is never shy. For a moment he isn't sure what to do. Hell, he doesn't even know what to think. He's just standing there, utterly still, under the warm water of what was supposed to be a refreshing shower.
"M-Mark?" He's almost ashamed when his voice snags, making it crack like fucking puberty. He has to force out a harsh exhale when a calloused hand curls across his thigh, arms still strong from years of football - among an array of other sports - keeping him steady. Nerves almost knocking the bones in his legs useless. Oh God.
"Yeah Bren?" The voice that responds to him is thick with baritone and almost rough with something.
"We…we can't do this here." He couldn't even convince himself with an argument like that. He can tell it's done nothing to change Mark's mindset either by the crook of a nose settling on the nape of his neck. Oh God, that's new. Back when all of this started it'd been an unspoken agreement; no more touching than absolutely necessary because bro, that's gay. And they aren't gay. Nothing gay about taking off the edge of stress after a ridiculously long week. Seriously.
"Because Mark. We're in a campground shower, a-and Levan's on the other side of that wall." Still not very convincing, apparently, if Mark's undeterred advances were any indication.
"If we're quiet she won't even notice." He wasn't entirely sure if that was true, but really, who's fighting with a hand so close to their dick? Knitting his brow Campbell relaxed fractionally into the nude form behind him, fingers falling from his hair down to overlap the hands on his stomach. Alright, he'll play. He could feel the grin against his shoulder. Mark knew defeat when he saw it.
Campbell bit down hard on his lower lip to swallow the gasp that threatened to burst forth as that sinful hand slid across him. Oh God yes. This. This is what he needed. Those talented fingers danced about his abdomen, playing with the muscle there. Gasping softly he bucked shallowly into those filthy, wicked digits spooled heat in the pit of his stomach before lucidity hit him.
With a new expression he spun around to face his captor, those lips above him were twisted into a grin as a light flush played his cheeks as well. Removing his hands from the brunette's larger ones he grabbed over at the bottle of shampoo and squirted out a palmful. Mark's grin had fallen from one of deviousness into one of confusion. What the hell? Campbell just smirked in response and reached up to rub the suds into his companion's hair.
Hey, if they were going to get dirty he should at least clean up a bit as well. Besides, there was no way in hell he was going to allow Mark, in his filthy form, get any closer to his dick. His expression must have stated this loud and clear because the brunette simply stood frozen to the spot. He was obviously still a bit tossed at the sudden one-eighty in Campbell's mood.
"Camps?" "You aren't touching me with those dirty fingers, you can clean up and then I'll think about it." The promise in his voice was unspoken, they both knew Mark was going to get what he wanted whether Campbell was entirely sure it was ok or not. Pleasure is pleasure, after all. The taller man simply laughed a rich baritone and nodded obediently, reaching out for a bar of soap and lathering it between open palms before reaching down and swiping it across the expanse of the ginger's stomach.
Visibly trembling with anticipation Campbell reached back to scrub at the base of Mark's skull, rubbing in the shampoo as he leaned forward. He had to stand on the tips of his toes for such a task. Honestly, why the hell was he so short for a human being? It was little comfort that he was about an inch taller than Levan.
Shoving these trivial thoughts to the back of his head he allowed his hands to drift downwards to a set of sinewy shoulders, pursing into them to elicit a soft sigh. He could feel the past few weeks worth of tension unraveling beneath lithe digits and damn if it didn't feel good. Not that that made him gay. He just needed to relax and it'd be selfish not to help Mark out too, right? Exactly.
Allowing his eyes to slip shut Campbell pressed into that touch that had moved upwards to his chest and back down again to the small of his back where the soap was discarded and hands were replaced. They kneaded into him as they shooed away the trail of suds that had been left behind. Deciding it was about time he returned the favor he reopened his eyes and tilted a hand up to nudge the square jaw above him. Encouraging him to look upwards before he pulled Mark forwards under the spray of lukewarm water.
They spent a good five minutes reacquainting each other with themselves. Campbell was almost shocked over how wound up he was before this, those sinful fingers manipulated his sore body in ways he forgot felt so good. They dipped with his form and rubbed away any leftover tension that had been building up to their peak over the last month. It felt too good for this to be legal, honestly.
"Am I clean enough for you, Bren?" A breathy laugh met such a question and he wanted to say something along the lines of 'you're never clean' but then a hand was trailing down his back to his ass and the words died in his throat. He simply swallowed and nodded in response, leaning back to place most of his weight against the dirty wall, a new type of tension began twisting in his joints. He didn't want to fall when his limbs began to feel like jelly, that'd suck.
"We have to make this quick, Lev is probably almost done already." The words were way more firm aloud when he managed to croak them out than he thought they'd be. Mark just grinned and pressed down on him, his free hand taking hold on the creamy hips below him once again. Sighing softly the ginger leaned into the touch, offering more of himself to touch. Vaguely he noted that he really wasn't doing much in reciprocation, he'd have to fix that. Later. Right now he's a bit tied up.
"Mark!" For a moment in his dazed state the words didn't register that they came from his lips. And then another moment to realize that his roommate's name didn't just come from his lips. This jolted him from his lust-filled haze, pushing off the wall and standing upright immediately as Mark leapt from under the spray of water. He was out the door before Campbell could get in another word. Swallowing roughly he glanced over to their clothes a moment before snatching them up and racing over to the door as well.
Stumbling around to the other side of the bathhouse he was met by the sight of Mark hulking over the shape of what looked like a park ranger, the back of their head and legs were bloodied from abuse. The bloody form of Mark was already flinging the door open to leap in and check on their female companion. Campbell, after casting a good look around for any more unwelcome visitors and finding the coast momentarily clear, gave a good look at the door. There was a hole the size of a fist there where it was obviously attacked by the infected.
Swallowing roughly he reached out and opened the door to step in. Oh God, what if something grabbed a hold of Lev? What if something was in here with her? What if she got bit? Then there would be no more of her. No more quirky games to break the silence. No more middle ground when he and Mark quarreled over some trivial thing. No more of this young woman who hadn't even gotten to live. Would they have to put her down like a dog…like how they had to do with her fiancé…?
The thought alone made his stomach twist. Oh God. His nerves were thoroughly frazzled at the sight of the small blonde, there were tracks of tears marring her pale face as she tried to stifle herself into Mark's naked shoulder. The fact that he was naked and covered in blood didn't even appear to register in her frightened brain. Campbell's stomach clenched at that. She was terrified. Did she think they would let her die all alone here in this bathhouse?
She hiccupped in surprise as Mark took her shoulder gently and pushed her back a bit. He guided her equally nude form over to a shower which was still running, passing her a cloth to clean up the infected blood that had rubbed off onto her torso. Knitting her brow she sniffed a moment before abashedly turning her back to them to clean herself up. The fact that she was still naked seeming to just now register in her brain. For a moment Campbell caught the sapphire irises of his brunette companion before he reached over for a towel to slip under the hot spray and clean himself off as well.
"We need to get out of here." Mark's voice was rough, with an edge of remaining terror as well as a bit of embarrassment. Just a moment ago he was being hugged by a dripping wet naked woman, despite her reasons he was still a man. A man that had been just about to get off, too. He visibly swallowed back a thick lump in his throat before grabbing his clothes and shimmying into them while Levan made for a towel to dry off enough to slip into a pair of jeans and a tee shirt.
"Yeah, that noise must have caused some attention. We should hurry." Campbell said as he slipped into his own pair of dark jeans as well as his old red and white Campbell's Soup shirt he'd gotten for his birthday back in high school. Being the first to collect themselves he turned back to the vandalized door, holding his breath before cracking it open to take a cautious peek outside. The coast was clear. Offering a glance over his shoulder he saw Lev straighten out her shirt with trembling hands. "We're clear to go, do you want to run for it?"
"I just want to leave right now." Even her voice was shaky, she swallowed thickly before putting on an obviously forced expression of confidence. He simply nodded before opening the door completely allowing Mark to walk out first followed by Levan before he took the back. It was a quick sprint back to the Honda and only when the engine sputtered to life did he let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding.
The entire trip out of the campsite was silent and after he saw a few floating infected knawing at the corpse of what might have used to have been an elderly woman did he turn his gaze back forwards. The sun was nearing the end of it's arch downwards, maybe these things really did become more active at night. There were most certainly a lot more out now than when they got here at noon. Shoving these thoughts aside he chanced a glance over his shoulder back at the shaken woman in the back seat. Her feet were on the seat, her knees had been drawn up to her chest as her dark hazel irises stared down at the gray vinyl floor panels of the car. She looked small. Nothing like the woman he'd grown attached to over the past few weeks.
Biting down on his bottom lip he glanced over to Mark, those blue eyes met his for another moment in a sidelong glance before they refocused on getting the hell out of this Godforsaken place. They still needed to find somewhere to sleep. Tossing these rational thoughts out of mind he gnarled around in his seat and stood in the cramped space. Maneuvering into the back seat he sat himself down beside the blonde before offering her an awkward one-armed hug.
The response was instantaneous as she fell into his shoulder, ashamed as she hid her face into the fabric there. It was only then did the tears come. It began as just a wetness seeping through to his skin, then there was the tell-tale dry heaving of her thin shoulders, and finally there was a soft sob that escaped her. She was very quiet in her mourning. In her terror. She had been so scared with nothing but a flimsy, breaking door between her and a painful death - or worse.
It was exactly how Darien had died. Her fiancé, her love, her world. The thought alone of that door breaking down and sending her crashing to the floor with no one able to help her as that terrible face gnashed it's teeth above her made her stomach knot. Was this what he felt before he died? Did he feel so alone? These thoughts washed through her brain, sending her into another silent sob. Oh God. Campbell's large hand rubbed at her shoulder and she tossed her arms around his shoulders in response. He must have felt awkward, he had no idea how to respond.
"Shh, Lev. It's ok. Mark and me are going to keep you safe, ok? You're going to be ok." He was crooning at her in a soft tone as he glanced up at the front dashboard. It was getting late, the sun was dripping across the brightly illuminated sky lazily, promising that night would be soon upon them. They would need a place to stop and dinner to eat and a clue where they were but none of this particularly mattered at the moment. "Mark, how much longer can you drive?" He could see an eyebrow quirk up into a wet hairline in the rearview mirror.
"At least till ten-thirty."
"Wake me up when you can't drive anymore, will you? We can switch off and I'll drive."
"We're driving all night?"
"Yeah, I'm going to get some sleep. Lev, you need to rest some too." He prodded her shoulder till she sat up just enough for him to reach in the back for two pillows and a blanket, plopping one into his lap and the other onto the side of the cab for his own head. The blonde took the hint and lied down across the seats, curled up in the blanket that had been given to her.
Glancing down at her to be sure she had settled in comfortably he fell against his own pillow. It was going to be a long night. It vaguely registered that Mark had quietly flipped on the stereo and with the soft tunes of the song 'Sympathy' by the Goo Goo Dolls ringing in his ears he drifted off to sleep, a few lingering rays of sunshine kissing his eyelids as he allowed himself to be swept away from the conscious world.
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