Take A Walk With Me (One-Shots and More)

Don't Fear the Reaper

#2 in the No Man Standing miniseries

Mitch scurried out of the car, despite the wheels still turning. He pulled the gun from his holster.

"You idiot!" Jerome hissed. "Get back in here!"

He ignored him, spotting his sister. Raising the pistol, he aimed around her. One, two, three. She fell to her knees, but scrambled up, running over. The herd turned towards him, the source of the blast. "Marley, get in."

His sister fumbled with the handle for a moment as he dove back into the safety of the Honda. When she finally undid the lock, it took her a second to find a way into the crowded back seat. Before the door was even closed, Jerome had slammed on the gas, and with a roar the car took off.

"Do you know how easily you could have gotten us all killed?!" He fumed, face scrunched up. Mitch glared.

"Wouldn't you have done the same for Angelica?"

Jerome didn't reply. Marley broke the silence.

"How did you two get here? You survived a month..."

"So did you," her brother pointed out, shifting in his seat. The gun at his side felt as hot as his face. "We dealt in the dirt for a while. It hasn't been the most pleasant experience."

"I holed up in the house," she admitted, but left it at that. There was no need to go into further detail about the rest of the family. Mitch felt a lump form in his throat.

"I'm sorry, man," Jerome muttered. His friend shrugged, watching the suburbs change to countryside.

"It's not like I haven't had the thought in my head for a while. At least I've got her."

"What do you mean, at least?" Marley teased. "I'm your world."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Mitch shot back, smiling ever so slightly.

The CD Jerome had put in earlier suddenly popped out of the player. He tried to push it back in, but to no avail. Noticing his efforts, Jerome glanced up at him. "Look for something else. Maybe it'll work."

He did, but didn't find anything. Mitch heard Marley digging around in the back seat, then saw her surface with a shiny disc. "It's just labeled Apocalypse. Play it."

"A fitting title for the end of the world," he snorted, pushing it into the player. After a second, it started playing a soft guitar rift. Recognizing it, Jerome laughed.

"Blue Oyster Cult? Are you fucking with me?"

"How do you even know all this?" Mitch challenged.

"Dad listened to some weird shit, man. I don't know if this is something you wanna get into with me."

"Lord..." Marley muttered. Her brother grinned.

"I remember that," he said. Jerome shrugged at that, and silence fell once more.

By the time it was evening, the fuel was finally starting to dwindle. Pulling over at a new gas station, Jerome hopped out and started looking for anything that might be full. Mitch got out, too, noticing Marley fast asleep in the back seat. He intended to let her stay that way, but Jerome glared. "Get her. We need as much help as possible."

And so, he walked back to the car, opening her door and gently shook her shoulder. He expected her to jump. He didn't expect her to instinctively grab her knife and slash at him - in fact, he didn't even notice until the scarlet splashed down onto the leather seat.

"Ah, fuck, Mars." He stepped back, cupping the wound with his other hand.

"Mitch! God, I'm sorry, I didn't realize... I didn't realize it was you. Here, do you two have bandages?"

"Of course we have bandages," he hissed. "They're in the box, should be near the top."

Pulling apart the box lid, Marley reached inside, finding a pack of gauze and cotton. She took them out, grabbing Mitch's arm. The cut wasn't deep, just long. It didn't look like she cut anything vital, so she just wrapped it up after applying pressure. She noticed Jerome walking over by the time she was almost done.

"What happened?"

"I scared her," Mitch admitted, and his friend flinched. He had sent him over here, after all. "It'll heal, though. She didn't get a tendon or an artery or anything like that, I don't think. I'll be fine."

"I hope so. I can't do this without you." Jerome reached for his wrist, turning it over to look at the bandaged gash. "That's... not bad."

"I told you so." Mitch pulled back. "Did you find gas?" In reply, Jerome hefted a red gasoline can. 

"Yeah. You get back in - we'll talk when I'm done."

With a nod, Mitch crawled back into the car. He shivered. The air was chilled, it seemed, but Marley shared no sign of it, and when Jerome stepped back into the car, he didn't either. Staying quiet, he just pulled his coat up from the floorboards and wrapped it around his shoulders.

"Mitch, there's... I found a hand-made flyer. Look at it." Jerome handed over a piece of colored paper. In black marker, there was an address for a place in Smyrna, Delaware. It advertised a sanctuary. Mitch stared up at Jerome. "Do we go?"

"We have to. We won't make it alone," he said, setting the paper up on the dash. Jerome looked hesitant. "Think about it. Delaware isn't that far from here. We have to go."

"Who knows what they have there? I haven't had a shower in weeks," Marley muttered. "They could have running water, warm food. It's our best bet and you know it. What are you scared of?"

Jerome sighed. "Nothing. Alright... We'll go." He turned the ignition. Mitch grinned.

"Awesome. Tally ho! On to Smyrna we go!"