Saturday Shakedown




(A zombie memoir, in which Matt is the hero and that is all.)




"OH MY GOD THEY'RE BREAKING IN WHAT DO WE DO SHOULD WE DO SOMETHING TYLER JEREMY ARE YOU LISTENING—" Matt's in hysterics, because the wood the three boys had plastered over the Grille's front door is slowly being stripped away, the glass windows already broken. Tyler has slapped one of his hands over Matt's mouth, the fingers of his other hand massaging his forehead.

"You are a walking headache, Matt Donovan." he growls, "If those things didn't know we were hear before, they do now. Because of your girly ass screaming!"

Matt whimpers, Jeremy balances Tyler's bat over his shoulder, eyebrows raised. "Guys." he starts, just as Matt wrenches away from Tyler and the pair start bickering.

"Guys." he repeats, a little more urgency in his voice. They continue ignoring him, more interested in slapping at each other than the wood being pulled off of the doors. Jeremy rolls his eyes at the pair before sidestepping them and approaching the door. Matt and Tyler continue to go at it, Tyler growling out threats, Matt pouting, and Jeremy directs his attention to the door, knowing the two behind him will be no help in dealing with whatever's about to come through that door. His heart beats just a little faster, and he grips the bat a little more tightly, ready to go out swinging. The last bit of wood is stripped away, and the Grille's doors slowly inch open.

Instantly, Matt and Tyler quiet down, Tyler pushing Matt further from the door in a last minute effort to protect his best friend. Their bro-ship is sort of endearing, Jeremy thinks.

"Jer?" Matt says, hiding behind Tyler.

"Shhh." Jeremy and Tyler hiss at the same time, just as the door opens fully. It's nighttime, the ending of the second day of the end of the world, and as the door swings in the light wind, Jeremy squints into the darkness, catches a hint of blonde hair, and the glint of metal scraping along the floor as whoever—whatever—it is, comes closer.

A second passes. Jeremy's about to pass out. He steps backwards, slapping the bat into Tyler's hands before hiding behind him with Matt.

Matt and Jeremy cower, hearing a low moan of pain, and the Grille's lights flicker. "This would be a great movie opener, you know—" Matt starts, just as Tyler barks out a shocked, "Caroline?!"

Matt and Jeremy pop up, take in the bloody cheer uniform, axe, and unwavering smile. "Hi, guys." Caroline murmurs, still beaming, as usual, covered in blood, scraped up, bruised. She grimaces, leaning on one leg a bit more than the other. Jeremy looks down, sees her ankle bent at an odd shape.

"Care," he steps towards her, "your ankle."

"Just a scratch." she mutters, smile finally vanishing, "I'm sooooo glad to see you guys—" before she can finish, she wobbles on her feet, eyes closing for a moment.

Tyler surges forward just as she falls forward. He swings her up into his arms and carries her to the bar, laying her on it. Matt bites his lip, following. The blonde examines her ankle, touching it gingerly. "It's broken." he says finally, grimacing.

"And how do you know?" Tyler asks, crossing his arms over his chest, disbelieving.

"I was a lifeguard last year, I took a couple classes. Duh." Matt supplies, rubbing his hands together. "I need some cloth, an apron or something, and a stick, anything we can stabilize her ankle with. Oh, and painkillers. Whatever's in Vicki's locker."

Tyler and Jeremy don't move for a second, staring at each other. Matt's just full of little surprises today, they settle on, exchanging looks before following orders.

Elena gasps, nails digging into the passenger seat, screwing her eyes shut. Elijah drives like a mad man, running every walking dead thing on the road down. The Honda they're in is old, and Elijah's much too tall for it, but he'd managed to find a classical CD somewhere in the glove box and was now tapping the wheel to Chopin. He swerves, taking out a old lady dressed in a pink sweatsuit.

I'm dying today, she thinks, blinking one eye open.

"Relax, Ms. Gilbert." Elijah says, taking a sharp turn, "You're not dying today. Have faith."

Elena looks at him, appraises him, "How do you always know what I'm thinking?" She questions, eyebrows lifting.

"I'm very perceptive when it comes to human actions and emotions. Comes in handy when dealing with patients." Elijah had explained his line of work to her earlier. She'd never met a therapist before, but she was glad for him now. She would totally need therapy when this was all over.

"The point here is: you have nothing to fear." Elijah says, looking at her, but maybe more like, looking through her, eyes piercing everything she's ever wondered about herself, everything she's ever—

Like he's looking into her soul.

Immediately, she feels at ease, and relaxes into her seat, closing her eyes, somewhat enjoying the bumpy ride, Elijah's eyes on her the entire time.

"I hate you." Bonnie says, crossing her arms over her chest.

"So you say." Kol agrees, "But, you would be zombie fodder right now if it wasn't for me," he grins at her before turning down main street.

"Are you asking me to be grateful?" Bonnie questions, casting her eyes around the dark street, "Because that's not going to—"

"If I was going to ask you, of all people, anything, I would have asked you out to dinner." he waves his hand as her mouth drops open, "But there's no time for such things now. However, in place of that, I'd like to ask you something else. In exchange for saving your life, I'd like you to help me find my sister. In the rare event that we do make it through the rest of the week and we do find her, Rebekah and I will help you find your friends." he stops the truck on the side of the road, looks at her closely.

Bonnie supposes she's not going to get a better deal, and even though a part of her is telling her to get out of the truck and go back for Caroline, she nods, agreeing. "Okay, I'll help you."

"Excellent." Kol grins, starting the truck, "And we'll get to dinner later, yes?"

He winks as Bonnie's cheeks tinge red.

Stefan, Rebekah, and himself are awesome, Damon decides. They'd been taking their time all day, strolling down the streets, not a care in the world. Rebekah's vindictiveness when it came to zombie killing was growing on him, and he could practically see the hearts in his brother's eyes whenever Stefan looked at the blonde.

It was disgusting.

But anyway, they were close to the Grille, just a couple blocks away. Darkness had already fallen, and they'd broken into a coffee shop for the night. Stefan and Rebekah are off doing god knows what, and Damon is alone, staring into the fire they'd started in the kitchen.

All alone, he thinks. There was one person he'd never felt alone around, and she was blonde and perky and annoying and possibly dead.

But he didn't want to think about that. At least not yet. Not until he'd found her body, or he had to put a bullet in her head.

She's alive, he tells himself.

(And she is. For now.)


a/n: uh hahaha look it's an update don't kill me pls