Title: Zombies and Demons

Author: veiledndarkness

Pairing: Tallahassee/Columbus

Rating: R

Summary: In a world full of ravenous, non-dead flesh eaters, you'd think the chance of something really bizarre happening would be slim. Right…?

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters within the story. I'm just playing with them. No profit has been made, no harm intended.

Alternate Universe in which the Wichita and Little Rock are not a part of.

X

There was a time where the strangest thing to happen in my life would have been actually emerging from my apartment voluntarily, and not out of some desperate 'no more toilet paper' need either. Scary things are waiting for you outside your door so why invite them in if you don't need to?

Now, of course, everything's so fucked up that those things that were once strange and scary pale in comparison to the really scary shit. Like zombies. Fucking zombies. Everywhere…

I wish that was a joke.

The United States of Zombieland was the reason for me leaving my safe haven of an apartment. Once they invaded and ripped away my security blanket in the form of the reclusive, shut-in behaviour that I was so fond of and forced me to fight back…well what else was I supposed to do?

Leave the corpse of my, until recently, hot neighbour decomposing on the floor and continue on my loner ways after she tried to eat me? Not likely. I barely escaped from that. James Bond never used a toilet tank lid as a weapon. That would have been pretty badass, I think.

Anyway, living and fighting…and fighting to live, I guess, it rips away that sense of security. And you get used to seeing crazy things and what was once a strange, random thought is suddenly reality.

And suddenly George A. Romero is a prophet.

In a world full of ravenous, non-dead flesh eaters, you'd think the chance of something really bizarre happening would be slim. Right…?

X

"You need t' pull over or what?" Tallahassee spared me a glance from under the edge of his well worn cowboy hat, blue eyes pinning me in place.

"What? No, no, I thought…I thought I saw something, y' know, by the side of the road." I can honestly say it's eerie to know that someone is completely aware of your every movement at all times. But that's…part of what makes Tallahassee so…Tallahassee.

"Then why are ya doin' the squirmy dance in y' seat? If you need t' piss so damn bad, then say so."

Tallahassee is so far removed from anyone I've ever known. A somewhat crazy, gun-loving ass kicker with a penchant for weapons, alcohol and Twinkies, Tallahassee is kinda scary.

And why I'm attracted to this man, I've no clue.

"I don't need to take a piss, stop bringing it up or I really will have to go," I huffed, fidgeting with the sleeve of my sweater.

He snorted and tipped his hat forward over his tanned forehead, eyes on the road once more. "Ease up, Princess. We'll be in the next town 'fore you know it. Find you a real nice bathroom there."

"Thanks," Sarcasm is lost on this man, but I said it anyway, not that he acted like he'd heard me.

Tallahassee found me walking down a highway in the middle of Texas several months prior. There I was, minding my own business, shotgun in hand, wheeled luggage in the other, picking my way through the crashed cars all around me. It's lonely business when you're outnumbered by the zombies and walking down a road that's crowded with burnt out cars and debris everywhere. It can make you nostalgic for the good ol' days of gridlock and road rage.

When the contamination first spread, no one took it seriously. I mean, really? Zombies?

So they weren't 'typical' zombies in the sense that they weren't dead per say. More like, overcome by the insane urge to eat people along with various painful side effects like raging anger, invulnerability to pain and open, running sores. Basically, looking like plague victims while sprinting down the street chasing human Happy Meals…

Maybe if they'd taken it seriously, I wouldn't be sitting next to a modern day Yosemite Sam, listening to him extol the virtues of Twinkies while keeping an eye out for the 'un' dead on our travels.

Tallahassee eased the car off the highway exit, guiding it around a broken down car at the side of the road. "You got that look on your face again. Wipe it off, Columbus."

With a jerk, I glanced at him, then away. I could feel the warmth in my face at being caught. "There's always a chance that..."

"Ah," Tallahassee waved his hand. "Don't even finish that sentence. You know s' well as I do that ten to one, there's nobody hangin' around, waiting to be rescued by the likes of us, so get that hopeful look offa your face."

"You don't need to be so negative," I muttered, because yeah, I was making that face. Not that he needed to remind me.

He laughed, nudging me. "Negative, realistic, there ain't no difference, Spitfuck. Keep those pretty eyes of yours peeled. We need jus' the right place."

"I'm looking," I sighed. Sometimes it's creepy, driving through deserted towns.

No people out and about, random animals here and there. Empty streets and signs of carnage or mayhem, or even...even cities burnt to the ground. With no fire departments operating and no one waiting to put out fires, whole cities were taken out in less than a few days.

Of course, you might come face to face with dead people, or zombies…or zombies eating said dead people, but most of the time, nothing. Millions of people in the USA alone and you can find empty towns. We've rarely seen other people, no matter where we drive. Maybe everyone's hiding, waiting for the all clear. Or like they fell asleep and they're waiting to wake up and start all over again.

"C'mon Spitfuck, eyes peeled," Tallahassee snapped, throwing an irritable glance my way.

"I'm on it." Rows of homes came up fast as he drove through the town. "Too many bungalows...not high enough off the ground...wait!"

Tallahassee slowed the car down, a large house looming in the distance. "Looks like shit."

"Well, ok, it's decrepit, but it's at least three stories high. It'd be hard to break into without us knowing it..." I stared up at the house and shuddered. Frankly, I didn't find it all that appealing either. You ever take one look at an old house and know that it's probably haunted and you're not sure why, but you just...know?

Tallahassee paused the car by the half open wrought iron gates that stood at the base of a long driveway. He eyed the house, his lips pursed in disapproval. "Places like this ain't for fellas like you."

"What? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

He rolled his eyes. "It's a big ol' dirty house and I betcha my last Twinkie that it hasn't got runnin' water or electricity. You'll be runnin' outta there screamin' like a bitch soon as you see your first spider."

"Hey, spiders are dangerous! They're not meant to be pets. They bite and some are venomous and I don't want to die of something stupid like a spider bite!"

"If I was you, I'd more worried about them layin' eggs in your ears." Tallahassee laughed and pushed on the gas, bringing us past the gates.

"That's hilarious, really." Call me a wussy if you want, but most things scare me. Spiders are high up on that list of phobias I have, not to mention all the regular things that I'm scared of, thing that regular people wouldn't even blink at, like the rags they use to clean tables in cafeterias.

Germs are everywhere, folks. That's a good thing to remember.

"Don't get your panties all twisted up. I promise I'll clear them spiders out soon as we get inside." Tallahassee nudged me in the shoulder again, humming some tune under his breath as we approached the rundown building.

"Are you...Are you humming the theme to the Addams Family?"

"This looks like the kinda place they'd love." Tallahassee pocketed the keys to the car and grabbed his gun. He smirked at me. "You gonna stay here an' wait for the all clear?"

I really, really hate the idea that he has, that I'm some wimpy little boy. I've killed plenty of zombies with my shotgun, thank you very much. I'm not going to chase them down with a chainsaw in each hand a la Tallahassee, but I'm not a puss. Not completely...

"Fuck you," I grumbled and got out of the car, shivering in the cool, damp fall air. "Watch where you step, those porch stairs don't look too steady to me."

"Thanks for the advice," Tallahassee stomped up the wooden stairs, heedless of my warnings.

I sighed and followed after him, gun at the ready, ears peeled for the horribly familiar sound of a starved zombie lunging for me. That grunting, snuffling, drooling sound they make is better than any alarm clock, trust me.

The house really did look like shit, especially up close. Calling it decrepit was being generous. Most of the windows had been boarded up, the wood structure itself was covered in grime, all the slats weather beaten and worn. Tallahassee bumped his shoulder to the front door and watched it creak open. I still say it shrieked as it opened but we tend to disagree on small details like that.

"Eatin' time!" Tallahassee hollered into the house, his gun lifted and ready.

We waited...and waited. Tallahassee blinked. "Huh...how 'bout that, this house is clear."

"Are you sure? Maybe they're waiting for us to come in. Could be a trap," I offered.

He snorted. "Y' ever see a zombie that could plan ahead? They ain't holdin' conferences on their methods of attack. C'mon inside now."

I followed him in reluctantly. If a zombie wouldn't even go in here...

This house was a playbook on every haunted house you've ever seen. Dark, uneven floors with that weird smell about it and of course, thousands of cobwebs everywhere. I coughed, dust motes flooding my face, to which prompted a sneezing fit. After five or six sneezes, Tallahassee handed me a crumpled cotton handkerchief.

"You about done?"

I settled for glaring at him and wiped my face. I hate sneezing. All those germ particles floating in the air...

Gross.

"This is one old house," Tallahassee murmured, looking around. He went through the doorway, gun in the air. "Bet there's a skeleton or three in this place."

"Awesome." I pocketed the handkerchief and kept up close behind him. Staying close to someone like Tallahassee is advisable. He's never scared, never afraid of the unknown. Not afraid of clowns or disinfectant cloths. And yeah...like I said, I kinda like him. Abrasive as he can be, I feel safe with him.

"Wonder how long it's been empty like this," Tallahassee kicked at the ancient couch that was pushed up against one wall of the living room. A huge cloud of dust puffed up from the faded flowered fabric. He waved at the cloud impatiently. "You go check out the upstairs, I'll check here an' the basement."

He glanced at me and smiled his crooked little smirk. "Less you're scared to, that is."

"Oh fuck you! I am not scared," I glared at him as best I could and still felt like he was mocking me. "Asshole," I muttered under my breath as I spun away, marching through the house, exploring the levels.

See, that was my first mistake. Hey, at least I can admit that.

X

We've stayed in plenty of houses and apartments over the months of travel and

I've never been comfortable with the idea of squatting like this. It's off putting. I keep expecting to see the owners in the doorway, ready to call the cops and have us hauled away. Of course with most of the population depleted, the odds aren't really stacked in the favour of that scenario.

But most of all, I feel like a pervert, kinda. I'm a ghost in their homes, seeing how they lived or in some cases, how they died. I wouldn't want anyone rummaging through my place and laughing at my quirks, rifling away through my medicine cabinet and judging me for my products. It's a necessity, awkward as it is. We need to sleep, to eat, to find a place to sit still a moment and pretend that the world didn't collapse around us.

Tallahassee lectures me from time to time on shutting up that part of my brain. He's right, I know he is, doesn't make things all that much easier. Its survival, but sometimes, it hurts.

And the fact that this house was more than likely haunted? Even worse...

Each step under me creaked and groaned. It felt like the wood was buckling under my weight and honestly? I'm not that heavy.

"Columbus, y' alive up there?"

I might've jumped when Tallahassee's disembodied voice floated up the stairs. "Y-Yeah..."

"Hurry up an' gimme the all clear. There's a storm rollin' in."

Fantastic. I hate storms. I took a deep breath and crept up the rest of the stairs, gun in hand. Nothing but dusty furniture and crooked paintings of really messed up shit, biblical-like scenes, but not happy ones, either.

"What the fuck..." I nudged one painting with my shotgun, staring at the painting of two figures fighting in mid-air. They looked...like demons...kind of. I moved on to the next picture of a small child curled up on a faded chair, a demon-like creature prowling behind her, waiting to snatch her.

"You got two minutes before I come up there an' kick your ass!" He wasn't kidding. Let me tell you, he can hit pretty damn hard. He's the last person you want seriously pissed off at you.

"Jesus, will you give me a chance to look!" I called back, still staring at the paintings. That itchy, odd feeling came over me, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. One of the demons was smiling in the mid-air painting, smiling in a nasty, gruesome way. My stomach flopped uneasily and I took a big step back from the wall.

I could feel this sense that something was wrong, that something...was watching me as I hurried through the rest of the second floor. "All clear except for the attic!"

"Perfect. That's where them big ol' spiders like to hide out," Tallahassee stomped up the stairs, seemingly unaware of the splintering and cracking of each wooden step.

"That's adorable," I gestured to the ball that hung from a chain. "You tug it."

"Don't mind if I do," he jerked the ball chain down and jumped back, a crooked metal ladder falling into place before him. The metal screeched and scratched, deafening us both for a minute.

"Damn," he winced, covering one ear. "Bit of oil'll fix that right up."

To me, that was another warning sign. "Um...yeah..."

He tucked his gun into his thigh holster and spit on his hands, rubbing them together. "You comin' up?"

"N-No, I'll just, you know, stand guard down here," I said, clutching my gun with damp palms. Ok, so sometimes I am a pussy. I'm cool with that.

"You do that." Tallahassee hoisted himself up the metal ladder, the heels of his boots gripping each stair securely. "I'll tell these big spiders t' leave you be."

"Enough with the spiders!" Yeah, I was looking around for them. It pays to be aware at all times. That's one of my rules for survival. Good rule, that one.

Tallahassee laughed, his body disappearing into the dark space above me.

"Nothin' man-eatin' yet..."

There was a silence that seemed to stretch on forever (though it may have only been two or three minutes, truthfully). I shifted uncomfortably, my skin itching from all the dust. "Tallahassee..."

Still nothing. Now it was a debate. Do I go up looking for him? Wait him out and possibly die from being caught off guard by some ravenous man-eating...Sorry, where was I?

Right...

"Tallahassee, I swear, if this is one of your sick jokes...!"

He poked his head down through the space, his blue eyes gleaming in the darkness. "Relax Princess; there ain't nothin' round here but us chickens."

"Chickens?"

He laughed and shook his head. He's got the strangest sense of humour at times. "C'mon up, it's warmer up here."

"No fucking way. Attics are creepy. There could be anything up there."

He shrugged at me. "Alright, if you wanna stay down there by your lonesome, that's your choice."

Fucker.

"Weren't you the one who was all concerned about the storm? We oughta get our stuff inside."

"Oh, now you wanna stay here?"

Why my glares don't work on him is of no mystery to me. "Not really but since we're here, we should at least get our stuff set up. We can book it outta here in the morning."

Tallahassee hesitated a second before heading back down, giving me a nice view of his jeans-clad ass. Heat rushed to my face and I jerked my gaze away, blushing fiercely.

He dropped down and glanced at my flushed face. His lips lifted in another smirk-like grin. He raised his eyebrows and his grin widened. "Lead the way, Spitfuck."

He was reading my mind, I know it. Pervert. So, we hadn't actually done anything but it was there in those first few months, simmering under the surface. I could feel it every time he gripped my shoulder, ran a calloused hand through the mess of curls on my head, those moments where his gaze lingered on me a little too long.

Not that I had even tried a move on him. For all his staring and occasionally bordering on gentle touches, what if I'd been wrong? The thought of rejection was as terrifying as the un-dead zombies that were forever following us.

And...And what if I tried a move and he was fine with that? My social past was well...non-existent, really. I didn't have friends, and never had the chance to even kiss a girl, much less a guy, and putting the moves on a guy like Tallahassee could put the fear of God into you.

And as I walked, eager to get away from the paintings on the second floor, I thought about Tallahassee, his very presence behind me unnerving. He brushed past me, striding down the stairs and over to the front door, automatically looking for any zombies milling about outside.

"Never seen a town so empty," he murmured, more to himself than to me. "No bodies, no noise, no birds..."

Goosebumps raced up my arms. Come to think of it, it had been awfully quiet since we'd driven through. "Maybe they were all evacuated from the beginning?"

"Mm..." he didn't sound convinced. "Let's get a move on. Those clouds are rollin' in fast."

X

We got set up in the living room quickly, dodging the fat droplets of rain that were falling outside. Tallahassee checked the guns first and foremost before looking for any salvageable supplies in the house. As he did so, I arranged the sleeping bags and pillows I'd brought along. He and I differ over things like comfort and since we'd started traveling together, I'd made it a point to find us durable sleeping bags. Not that he cared much. Tallahassee can sleep on the floor and be perfectly comfortable.

It didn't take long to spread some blankets in the dusty ass living room and light a few small candles. Quick zombie tip? They like lights, a lot. Lights seem to equal food, so keep your lights to a minimum. Tallahassee dumped a couple of cans on the couch from our supplies. He sat down next to them, shaking his head.

"Not much in the way of food here. Didn't expect much," he took out his pocket knife and began the process of opening each can.

"Next Walmart we see, I'm getting you a can opener."

He snorted. "I ain't about t' cut myself."

"Yeah but if you do, you're screwed. When was your last tetanus shot, huh?"

Tallahassee spared me a condescending look. "I 'ppreciate your fussin' over me, Columbus, but you're more likely t' get fucked up by a zombie than me. Clumsiest little Spitfuck I've ever seen, always trippin' and fallin', some kinda damsel in distress, that's what you are."

"You...ugh, you asshole!" I sputtered, getting to my feet. "I'm not a damsel! I'm not a fucking girl!"

Tallahassee merely grinned at me, having completely opened the can of stew with nary a scratch on his hands. "Havin' a shitfit like one right now, ain'tcha? That time of the month already?"

Allow me to repeat. Fucker…

I resisted the urge to hit him or throw something. Barely. "You know what? Fuck you, ok? See if I care when you're bleeding all over the damn place." With that, I grabbed my gun and left in the room in a huff. Hearing him laugh as I made my dramatic exit only pissed me off more.

I stomped about, not moving in any particular direction. Each area looked the same, unsettling paintings, spider webs large enough to capture small children in and dark, dusty furniture everywhere.

I stopped in front of a room, one that had its door wrenched to the side, barely clinging to the rusted hinges. With a shaking hand, I traced the long gouges that ran across the wood work.

"Ok, now that's fucking spooky," I muttered.

By now, I was completely convinced that the house was haunted. But by what? The gouges ran down deep, leaving splinters and cracked wood shards in its path. And dear God...Oh yeah, some had traces of dried blood in them.

"Nasty," I wiped my fingers hastily on my jeans, my skin crawling in double time.

I pushed at the door with my foot, bracing the tip of my sneaker on the bottom part of the door. It shrieked much like the front door had, sending new shivers down my spine. My breath caught in my throat, the chill of the empty room greeting me, the hand that clamped down on my shoulder...

Yes, I screamed, a little too loudly, in fact.

"Don't you know what happens t' people when they wander off? First t' get killed, Columbus," Tallahassee gripped my shoulder, squeezing. "That's the rule in every horror movie out there."

"J-Jesus!" I held onto the doorframe for support. "Don't sneak up on me like that. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

He moved his hand, his fingers brushing my chin, "Calm down, nobody 'round here but us. Got the stew warmed if you're hungry."

A crack of thunder made me jump again, the roar echoing through the house. My heart skipped a beat and not just from the feel of Tallahassee's rough fingers. "Yeah...Yeah," I gulped a breath.

"You see this?" I asked, nodding to the door. "You know anything that could do damage like that?"

He looked the door over and shrugged. "Big dog? Werewolf maybe."

"Not funny," I glared.

"Whatever it was, it sure wasn't playin' around." He moved his hand to my shoulder, guiding me away from the room. "S' long gone now."

Yeah, that didn't reassure me any.

And even as I ate my serving of stew, heated by our portable camping stove, I found my mind wandering back to that room, to the remains of the door and the bizarre pictures that lined the walls on each floor.

"What if, for argument's sake, this place really is haunted?" I ventured once Tallahassee had finished eating. "I mean...like sacrifices or witchcraft? Ancient burial grounds...or uh...uh..."

He raised an eyebrow at me sceptically. "Y' got all that from a busted down house with a fucked up door?"

"You didn't see those pictures. I did! There's something ultra weird going on here and not even the house, this whole neighbourhood. I bet the other houses are just as freaky as here."

To my surprise, Tallahassee seemed to be considering that. "I admit that the town's a little on the strange side, but that's not t' say that somethin' satanic happened here neither."

"So what did happen then? A Silent Hill kinda thing?"

He blinked at me and shrugged, clearly not getting my video game reference. "I tell you what t' do, you go on outside an' look for someone movin' around. Ask them, maybe they can tell ya."

"Yeah, I think that's a no."

"Alright then, you gonna shut up about this place now?"

"Maybe..." Another boom of thunder rattled the house, lightning racing across the sky. The room around us lit in a white-blue glow for a brief second. I bit my lip and gave into the urge, crawling closer to Tallahassee and the safe warmth he offered. He draped his arm around me, his back to the dusty couch, the heat coming off him in an irresistible wave.

In Zombieland, you learn to appreciate the little things. And being comforted by someone who's always warm during a storm is one of those things.

X

Halfway through the night, I sat upright, a sinking feeling deep in my stomach.

The room was nearly pitch black, our small candles snuffed out by Tallahassee sometime earlier. With a shaky inhale, I looked about, Tallahassee's quiet snores the only sound in the room. I felt about with one hand, only a little reassured by the feel of my gun next to me.

I swallowed, my breath rattling in my dry throat. That feeling was back, that feeling of being watched. Oh God...I closed my eyes, picturing the busted up door down the hall.

"Tallahassee!" I hiss-whispered, shaking his arm. "Wake up!"

He squinted at me, mumbling under his breath. "...better be good, kid, wakin' me up at this ungodly hour..."

"Do you feel that?"

"I feel you shakin' me. G'on back t' sleep, Columbus."

I shoved at him again, a panic attack lingering not far behind. "Something's here, I know it."

He snarled, sitting up fast, glaring at me. Normally that look would scare me into babbling an apology. Not at the moment though. "I ain't above tyin' you down an' gaggin' you. There's nothing fucking here! No zombies, no giant killer spiders or clowns, so lie down an' go t' sleep before I knock you out!"

"But..." I'm guessing the kicked puppy look on my face helped because his anger seemed to deflate. "I...I saw, I mean, I felt..."

Tallahassee rubbed a hand over his closely shorn hair, his hat off to the side. He exhaled, looking like he was making a major effort to hold his annoyance back. "What'd you see?"

"Well, um, nothing actually."

He looked at me and I swallowed again, my throat clicking. "Uh, that is...it's too dark to be sure or see much..."

"Hear anything?"

"No..." If it was a zombie, Tallahassee wouldn't have needed me to wake him. I swear he has radar for them.

"So lemme get this straight. You woke me up cause you 'feel somethin', that about right?"

I nodded, willing him to keep his temper a bit longer. "Yeah..."

"And what exactly is it that you 'feel'?"

"I don't know. Something's here, watching me, watching us," I clasped my arms to my sides, shivering. "I felt it when we first got here, on the second floor then."

Tallahassee grunted and sat up more. "Don'tcha think you're a bit old for monsters lurkin' in the dark? Christ, even Buck hardly ever..." he paused, his voice uneven. A long, painful moment passed before he spoke again. "You're safe," he muttered gruffly. "Go back t' sleep."

Yeah, good luck with that. There was no way I could have fallen back asleep in that house. "At least Buck had his dad to comfort him when he needed it," I whispered carefully. Tallahassee was wicked edgy at any mention of his lost son.

He caught my gaze and I saw such raw anger and sadness in those blue eyes of his for a second. "Not always." He blinked and made a sound in his throat. "Not the last time."

I groped in the darkness until my hand found his, weaving my fingers into his grip.

He sighed and looked away, watching the lightning streak and spark outside the window. "You really that scared, Columbus?" he asked, his eyes steady on the storm rolling over the house.

Scared? Of too many things to count, actually, "Yeah...I'm kinda scared of whatever the hell ripped that door off currently."

His lips quirked in an almost smile. "Know what I'm scared of?"

I stared at the outline of his face, shocked into silence. Tallahassee, scared?

"What?"

"Scared someday you might not make it. That they'll get to you 'fore I could an' I'd have t' watch you die," he said, the words so faint, I hardly heard them. "Don't wanna lose you like I lost...Buck."

I gripped his hand firmly, my heart pounding against my ribcage. "You won't lose me. I have you to protect me, right?"

"Can't guarantee that…I tell myself you're ok, but the truth of it is, some days I wake up, expectin' to find you gone."

I never thought I'd hear Tallahassee admit to being afraid of anything and more importantly, afraid of losing me. "Tallahassee..." I tried to speak, to think of the right words to reassure him. "I'm here..."

He dragged his gaze back to mine, his face tired, lined with sadness and traces of fear that I'd never noticed until now, hidden under his usual exterior. He shifted, moving closer to me, and I felt my heart rocket into triple beats, Tallahassee's mouth so close to mine, his breath fanning over my cheeks.

"First kiss…my first..." I thought deliriously as his lips brushed mine.

A sharp screech wrenched us apart, Tallahassee scrambling for his gun. He was on his feet in a flash, gun aimed and ready. "Stay down," he snapped, already circling the room, tensed and alert.

Watching Tallahassee take out zombies always gets my blood pumping. Honestly, I kind of get...excited…if you know what I mean. He takes such pleasure in killing them in the most creative ways. The first time I really saw him take out a few, we were in a grocery store and he had a metal baseball bat. I couldn't catch my breath at that moment, so shocked and thrilled was I to see him move like that.

I grasped my gun, fumbling for my pack of bullets. "What the fuck was that?"

"Ain't no zombie," Tallahassee looked up, seemingly tracking the screech that shook the house. "You stay here."

"What? No! I'm comin' with you."

"Are you deaf? Stay here, keep watch!"

"Tallahassee..."

He grabbed me by my sweater, dragging me up and off the ground easily, a hot, fierce kiss claiming my mouth. I hit the ground when he released me. "Stay the fuck here," he demanded roughly.

With that, he was gone from the room, leaving me with one shaking hand pressed to my lips. I couldn't speak, fear and desire overriding my senses. I loaded my gun, clutching it with sweat slicked fingers. I should have been terrified...

And yet, all I could think about was the feel of his mouth on mine.

X

Footsteps pounded above me, the ceiling shaking and creaking under the weight of

Tallahassee and...And whatever the hell he was fighting. A gunshot roared, screeching following after it. I stood up, wiping my sweaty hands on my jeans, my gun pressed against my chest. "Jesus..." I croaked.

Another screech echoed and Tallahassee let out a flurry of swears, bullets firing unseen.

"T-Tallahassee!" I called, my legs shaking as I walked a slow circle in the living room.

More footsteps echoed from above. My heart pounded a frightened beat against my ribcage. I licked my dry lips, a wave of fear and desire, both as strong as the other wash over. My fear fought with the desire to obey Tallahassee and wouldn't you know it, my feet brought me closer to the stairs, away from the safety zone.

"Fuck it," I muttered and started up the stairs, my gun raised in the air, "Time to nut up or shut up…Tallahassee!"

Another blast from a gun and suddenly Tallahassee appeared over the railing, his eyes wild, blue and half crazed in the darkness. "Run!" he shouted, bloody streaks running down his right cheek.

My mouth opened, a protest ready until I saw the clawed hand reaching for him, hovering over his shoulder.

"Run Columbus!" And the claws descended, dragging him away from the railing.

I stared in disbelief, unable to think, to process the sight of a clawed hand, one certainly big enough to rip a door nearly off the hinges, sink into Tallahassee's shoulder and take him away. "No..." I choked out, a strangled whisper.

"No...NO!" I screamed, rage filling every inch of me.

I stormed up the stairs, my gun banging against my hip. I narrowed my eyes, blind anger leading me. A trail of blood began at the top of the stairs, droplets and sprays of blood here and there.

"Tallahassee!"

A choked cry answered me...then another otherworldly shriek from whatever had him. I shuddered to a stop at the sight before me, Tallahassee struggling in the grip of...

"Oh holy fuck..." I nearly whimpered. It was that thing...that creature from the paintings, that demon-like thing.

Its pale razor sharp claws were deep in Tallahassee's shoulders, one of its claw hands dangling uselessly at its side, the skin stretched and dripping a gooey blood, bullet holes torn clear through the muscles and tendons of it. Its black shiny eyes stared back at me, a malicious grin distorting its face. I stared and stared some more, the moment stretching on and on, my every fear since we'd stepped foot in this house, its claws dragging my…my everything, away from me.

Face to face with a demon, ten times worse than any zombie that had launched itself at me since the moment that Patient Zero had chomped on a contaminated burger, terrifyingly real and about to kill the only person left in this fucking world that I cared about.

Tallahassee fumbled with his gun, his fingers slicked with gore and blood. He grimaced, rearing back despite the claws embedded in his shoulder. "You deaf, kid? Get the fuck outta here!" he bellowed at me, bringing his gun up, the muzzle of it cocked against the underside of the demon's throat.

That was all it took for me to snap out of my daze, enough for me to lift my gun and fire, the bullet smacking into the side of the demon's face, blood spurting up and out in a sickening pattern.

Blood showered down over Tallahassee and over the grimy floor. The demon screamed at me; spit flying from its gaping mouth. I let out a shout of my own, firing again. The bullet shot out and flew into the demon's neck, cutting off the shrill screams. Tallahassee lunged forward, the claws ripping and sliding through his shoulder as he tore himself free, the demon falling almost in slow motion to the floor, blood pumping in an endless flow from its wounds.

Tallahassee crashed into me, his face chalky white. Shock…he's going into shock, my mind babbled at me. "Move!" he shouted, a gore soaked arm snaking around me and dragging me towards the stairs.

It was a blur of blood, dust and guttural dying screams above us while Tallahassee and I staggered down the stairs. Somehow, some way, I got him down to the living room, my hands fumbling for one of the sleeping bags. I ripped the top layer off of one of them, pressing it in a makeshift bandage to Tallahassee's shoulder.

He gripped the fabric, the dark blue swath darkening fast against the blood that dripped from his wounds. "I swear to God, I swear, if you die on me," I rambled, wiping at the blood on his face, "if…if you die on me, I'll find a way to bring you back just so I can beat the crap outta you."

Tallahassee cut off my frantic words with a kiss, his lips sliding over mine as if nothing untoward had occurred moments before. "Shut up, Spitfuck," he murmured tiredly. "I ain't gonna die, not from a couple of scratches."

"Yeah well…" I panted, wide-eyed still, gripping his blood smeared jacket. "Let's get outta here, huh?"

X

Tallahassee sat in the passenger seat of our car, me driving for once. He clutched at his shoulder, keeping steady pressure on his cuts. As we drove, I felt the weight of unseen stares following us, the presence of God only knows what chasing not far behind.

The streets stood as empty as they had when we first rolled through, less than twenty-four hours previously, nothing moving, not even a breeze to show that a storm had come in, the thunder and lightning gone in the moments after the demon had dropped to the second floor, dying. And yet…yet, I could feel something watching us leave, watching and making sure we didn't stray from the road out of town.

"Stop thinkin' so loud, Columbus," Tallahassee sighed next to me. "Just drive."

I smiled a little despite the fear that followed me. For once I'd been the one to save someone. Someone like Tallahassee…

I felt for his free hand and squeezed it. "I…Tallahassee, I…really…"

He gazed at me for a moment, shaking his head. "I know," he smiled slowly. "I know…"

And that was enough for, I thought. I didn't need to hear all of it. I had him, he still had me, and that's all I really needed right then.

X