Chapter Text
Everything happened so quickly, Tyler's still not entirely sure what happened.
It's been three hours since the world started burning to the ground. Three hours since he and his friends rushed out of the school cafeteria with the rest of their classmates, a monster ripping itself out of what used to be Jock Jockerson and lashing out at anything within range. The fire department tried to restrain it, but were unable to before it managed to escape the building. They thought it was a hero story in the making, the classic tale of defeating the rampaging beast and saving the town from destruction. This was anything but.
Whatever infected Jock and turned him into something so unrecognizable and hostile, was also severely contagious. No one figured it out in time before a neighbor of his had their skin twisted inside out and became a monster right in front of his eyes.
Tyler wasn't sure the exact moment the apocalypse officially started, and in all honesty it probably hasn't reached a big enough scale for it to count as an “apocalyptic event”, but if he had to make a guess he'd probably say the moment he and his friends hurriedly strapped on their paintball gear in Kevin's garage, parents phones unanswered and the air filled with far away screams, muffled through the garage door.
He helped Roach put on his dad's old mask, adjusting the straps on the back of his head as Shope and Kevin bickered off to the side. It almost felt like any other afternoon, as if they preparing for yet another match of slingshot paintball instead of…
“And I'm telling you, the supermarket would be the best place for us to go! It's filled to the brim with food, it'll last us ages!”
Well, that.
Tyler tuned back into his friends conversation as he finished straightening out the stretchy material, flicking his eyes over to them every once in a while to get an idea of what they were discussing. Although, it would probably be more accurate to describe it as a spat between two bristling cats.
“Yeah, buuut it's lame and huge! We could get ambushed at any second in there–have you studied any of the zombie flicks we watch?” Kevin's jabbing Shope in the chest with a finger, crossing his arms afterwards with a frown. “God, it's like you have no idea how to survive a zombie apocalypse.”
“Oh my GOD, for the last time it's not a zombie apocalypse, they're not the undead! And it's not like your idea to camp out in the carnival is any better–exposed to the elements and open on all sides?? You're crazy!”
“Uh, yeah keep telling yourself that.” He waved her off, and Tyler could almost hear the steam coming out of her ears. Sounds less like a boiling kettle and more like a freight train hell bent on running anybody named ‘Kevin Reynolds’ over. “You're too narrow minded to see the possibilities, and that's ok! We all have our flaws like that, nothing to be ashamed of.”
“And another thing-OW!” Tyler knocked him over the head, crossing his arms with an unamused glare as Kevin rubbed at the point of contact, whining. “Dick, what was that for?!”
“Dude, if you had said another word I'm pretty sure Shope would've socked you.” He gestures towards her, feeling like he could hear his blood pressure dropping back down to normal levels as she unclenched her fists and took a deep breath. “Plus, the carnival?? C'mon, that couldn't have been your first choice.”
Kevin scoffed. “Oh yeah? And what's your genius idea, huh?”
Tyler opened his mouth to reply back, hand on hip and building up enough snark to match, before a new voice to the conversation shut him up before he could even take in enough breath to spit out his idea.
“Why don't we go to the arcade?” The room went quiet, the three of them turning their heads around to the source of the sound. Roach had finished strapping on the last of their protective gear, the bulk of his sweater flaring out around the velcro straps on his elbows.
“You know, thats not actually a bad idea.” Shope crossed her arms and tapped her chin with a finger in thought. “it's inconspicuous, and it's got a stocked kitchen…”
“Are you kidding?? The arcade machines are clearly the best part! Imagine,” Kevin threw an arm over a disgruntled Shopes shoulders, who looks five seconds away from finishing the job she started just a few minutes earlier. “Endless entertainment, as far as the arcades token can roll. We can wait out the apocalypse playing Mortal Kombat II! Cmoooon–hey!” She swatted at his face, ducking as he picks his arm up off of her shoulder to avoid getting hit.
“Well, it's a good place to start, right? I can't say the thought of beating Kevin again in Apex Rebels isn't appealing.” Tyler shrieked with laughter as Kevin rammed into him with an indignant guffaw and a poorly concealed grin.
“Hah, you wish! Must I remind you that my names been above yours on the scoreboard for two weeks now?” Kevin's grin slipped into a look of horror as Tyler gave him a smug grin. “No. No, you're lying –”
“Beat it by 200 points four days ago. For someone who's so proud of your scoreboard placement, you think you'd go back to check up on it every once in a while.” Kevin shrieked as he went to grab at Tyler, missing by just a moment as he sidestepped out of his reach.
The two began cracking up, grabbing at each others arms and trying to slap each other silly. Despite the slight stinging on Tyler's face where Kevin accidentally put a little too much force in smacking at him the tightness of the protections gear on his body, he felt lighter than he did since this began.
Tyler's laughter morphed into a grimace and he dropped Kevin's wrist from where he was holding it just inches from his face, and looked around the room at his friends. Shope and Roach, who had previously been watching their little spat with amusement, looked concerned at the sudden change, and Kevin who still was holding into his arm went slack.
“This is really happening?”
“Well, duh. Where else would we make a kickass base?” The grin on Kevin's face is practiced, but Tyler's been around him for long enough to see the force behind it, the hesitation. That wasn't what he meant, and he knew that, but for a blissfully, willfully ignorant second, Tyler returned the grin and nodded.
“Well, I can't argue with that. Seems like pretty solid reasoning.”
Shope rested a hand on his shoulder. “You sure you're good?”
“Ready as I'll ever be.” No backing out now.
He got down on one knee and grabbed the garage inner door handle, feeling it's cool metal under his palm as he wrapped his fingers around it and squeezed. Just enough to bring himself back in the moment, enough to focus on the task ahead.
Whatever that turns out to be.
Tyler took a breath, and twisted the garage door handle and pulled it upwards, opening the heavy metal door with a screech of it's mechanisms and the unpleasant sound of metal sliding together.
As sunlight floods the garage and he steps out onto the asphalt of Kevin's driveway, he can't help but feel a deep sense of wrongness in his gut. A deep feeling in his core that something is missing, lost and out of reach before he could even figure out what it was.
He hopes this isn't a mistake, but deep down he feels like one has already been made.