Green Hope :: BakuDeku

North

⚠️Warning⚠️
Semi-Graphic depictions of violence, gore and indication of death

At first, Katsuki wasn't motivated to do much of anything. It has been a very long time since he has felt this hollow. This lost and empty. He feels almost like he's been abandoned in the middle of the ocean. In a way, he has been.

The next day, he awoke with a surge of determination. He packed the duffle bag with a few road snacks, counted his weapons, dressed, then grabbed the truck keys. He made sure to lock the door, then locked the gate on his way out.

He didn't need Izuku. The greenette is clearly just fine without him, so he'll be fine without Izuku.

Katsuki drove for about two hours, crossing the border back into Maryland, when the low gas light came on. Siphoning gas from other cars was God-awful. Worst thing he's ever done, and the effort was barely worth it. He only got a half-tank for the truck out of five other vehicles.

Why couldn't anyone have topped off their tanks before they fucking died? Morons.

In a small town, Katsuki pulled over and parked underneath a carport. He threw the dying leaves over the truck and covered the entrance of the carport with a tarp.

Good, not immediately noticeable. And he's got the key, so it'll be harder to steal... not that hot wiring isn't a thing.

He shrugged up the dufflebag, hiking down the deserted street. He slowed to a stop, staring ahead.

This is the first time he's traveled alone. Ever. Even before the apocalypse he's never been alone. There was always someone right beside him.

He'll just have to move faster.

~

"Oh, hell yeah." Katsuki grinned, setting the dufflebag down. He ducked under the partially open garage door and approached the motorcycle, running his fingers along the leather seat.

He looked up and glanced around, pursing his lips as he didn't spot any keys.

Inside he goes. He reached back outside, grabbing the dufflebag and pulled out his machete. Carefully, slowly, he opened the door leading into the house.

Sweet, keys right by the door. The door creaked as it swung open more and he paused.

Low growl to the right. Deep, threatening. Runner or Biter. Katsuki snatched the keys, just as the infected snarled and started running towards him.

He slammed the door shut, huffing as the Runner slammed into it, screeching.

"Damn," Katsuki sighed, tossing the keys. He made his way to the motorcycle, whistling. He looked through the Keychain, halting as he spotted the symbol. He then looked outside to the minivan in the driveway. "Mother fucker..."

~

A minivan does have more seats. And a/c. And holds more gas. Lucky him, this minivan had three quarters of a tank and the gas he siphoned from the(very beautiful) motorcycle nearly topped it off. He might just have to come back to it on the trip back to the farmhouse.

For now, he's stuck driving a dusty, faded blue soccer mom car with seven seats. Though, he's going to need more than just this to pick up his entire group. Can't exactly force this poor thing to become a clown car. He not sure it could handle that after two years of just sitting there, partially exposed to the elements. Lucky him, again, it was parked underneath a carport hanging off the side of the garage where the motorcycle had been fully protected.

The Runner had thrashed against the door and snarled all the way until Katsuki pulled away in their old minivan. He didn't bother with the radio station, but they did leave their cds' thankfully. Not so thankfully, it was a bunch of 80's tunes and children's show playlists.