The Railroad

Chapter 5

After spending the rest of the afternoon with Wilbur and taking a short nap on the visitor's couch, George had called the number he received from Wilbur to get in touch with a coyote. How the taller got it, George didn't know, but he didn't care enough to question it. When he got a message from the number displaying the coded message signaling it was time, George parted with Wilbur.

They set their hands on the window and Wilbur rested his forehead against the glass. George sighed deeply, dreading the moment that he would have to pull away.

"Bye, Wilbur. Don't give up, I will get you this cure as soon as possible," George said, wanting miserably to hug his best friend.

"Good bye, George. Stay safe, I'll be rooting for you."

George gave a stiff nod, taking this one final moment with Wil for who knew how long, and left the room. He was nervous to meet with this coyote and he was terrified to make the trip to Raleigh, seeing as the other walled city was at least 500 miles away, most likely more. But this was the right decision, he felt it as soon as Wilbur had suggested it. The brunet wasn't quite sure why, but a certain aspect, a specific force, drew George to this coyote, to Raleigh.

And before he knew it, he was at the location where they agreed to meet. It was probably eight by then: the sun was absent from view and the dark alleyway in which George stood was swallowed by darkness. He was anxiety ridden at this point; he didn't even know what the coyote looked like, and this sketchy alley wasn't doing anything to calm his nerves.

Someone rounded the corner, and a tall figure wearing all black approached George. He was wearing black cargo pants, black army boots, a dark brown jacket (the hood of which he had pulled over his head), a leather jacket over top, and a regular black t-shirt underneath. Covering his right eye was a white mask with a smiley face on it, his left eyebrow had a slit through it, shaggy blond hair was scattered messily over his forehead and a portion of the mask, and he had a dog tag around his neck.

"Eight eight," he mumbled, his voice deep and raspy.

"Twenty-two," George answered, voice barely above a whisper.

"George, right?" the blond asked once the brunet answered his code correctly. George nodded. "You can call me Dream, I'll get you out of the city and to Raleigh in no time, or I'm not the best coyote this zombie apocalypse has ever seen."

~~~

Dream was true to this word. He worked quickly and efficiently, sneaking past guards patrolling the areas closer to the wall (supposedly to protect from zombies, though George wasn't too sure on this anymore) and getting them through a crack in the wall.

The brunet wasn't sure what he'd been expecting on the other side, maybe gray skies and decaying wild life, but it was entirely the same as inside the wall. Well, maybe aside from the clear destruction and neglect that was present on the outside. Only the wall itself, decorated in green vines and graffiti, seemed more post-apocalyptic on the other side.

The two boys were walking along abandoned train tracks now, barely a half hour away from the wall. It's gray stones and guarded watch towers loomed over them in the distance, seeming to be watching them with a careful eye and beckoning them back into the safety and comfort of rich life. Dream hadn't spoken much, though the brunet had guessed it was because he was feeling just as awkward as George. Finally, after what felt like forever, Dream stopped them.

"Alright, George. You want to get to Raleigh? Well here's the game plan. Raleigh is roughly 600 miles from here, meaning it's about a week's walk, not including rest time. You didn't give me enough time or money to arrange for a vehicle, so we're on foot."

"You didn't tell me that you needed more money," George interrupted. He grabbed his bag from his back, feeling through it until he found the envelope of money he'd prepared for Dream. He handed it to the blond, who opened it and counted through it until he paused.

"There's... more in here than what we agreed," Dream scoffed in disbelief, glancing up at George with his left eye. George took a minute to admire how the green of it sparkled in the moonlight.

"Right, well, it was just so short notice, and... I don't know, I felt bad?" George stammered.

Dream laughed, breaking the tranquility of the peaceful night with a joyous, song-like tune. "You are... odd, George."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like. You're odd. Here you are, son of one of the richest people in the whole U.S. You could be doing literally anything else right now. You could be home, in bed, being lazy, and no one would say anything. But no, you're out here, wanting to travel to Raleigh for whatever ungodly reason, through zombie terrain, with a total stranger. And, on top of all that, you're generous to said complete stranger. You're odd, princess."

"Princess?!" George spluttered, causing Dream to wheeze once more in laughter, but he didn't say anything else. Instead, he raised an eyebrow, as if to ask about the rest of his commentary on George's situation. "Let's just say... I'm doing this for a friend. Oh, and I happen to be carrying one of the most important valuables to all of mankind on me currently."

"Is that so? Well then, princess, you are one hell of a good friend," Dream chuckled.

George simply shrugged.

"Why do you wear that mask?" George asked, out of the blue. He hadn't stopped thinking about it since he first laid eyes on it.

"We all have our secrets. Sorry, that sounded cryptic as shit. It's for, um, identity purposes. You know, don't want people to recognize me in this line of work. I'm not an idiot, George."

"Uh huh," George laughed. He sensed that wasn't the whole truth, but he didn't pry. After all, he wasn't telling Dream the whole truth, either.

"Anyways, back to what I was saying," Dream continued, obviously trying to change the subject. "It'll take us a little over a week to walk to Raleigh. I'm not gonna lie to you, it'll be incredibly dangerous. We're not just under the threat of all the starving zombies out there, but also the humans remaining. They've gone kinda insane, at least those I've had the displeasure of encountering on these fun little trips. But don't worry, my job is to get you there and in one piece, and I'm gonna do just that."

George was only vaguely listening. He was more focused on that sparkle still in Dream's eye. With his tan face lit up by the pale moon, the blond's features seemed much softer and more gentle. Perhaps it had something to do with the tone in which he was using while trying to assure George that he would be safe, but he seemed very caring in that moment.

"Hey, Dream?" George asked, putting a halt on Dream's rant. "How far have you ever taken someone?"

Dream smiled warmly. "Why, the safe walled city of Salem, Massachusetts. Younger kid, wanted to get to his mom. He was the one who gave me the code name Dream, we had nicknames for eachother. Mine for him was Ranboo." Dream continued to smile as he thought back to it, and his gaze became lax as he was no longer focusing on George, but instead on nothing particular in the distance. "Though, we were in a car, so it didn't take more than a day, seeing as we were going from Louisville, Kentucky. But still, he was unharmed and it was one of my favorite experiences smuggling someone across zombie wasteland."

The brunet was smiling too, now.

Maybe this wouldn't be as bad as he was envisioning.

~Word count: 1,330~

A/N: finally we have one that's longer!! and we have dreamyweamymcsteamy in the flesh... george do be acting a little bit fruity tho. sorry this is late, i got distracted. have a wonderful day!