Insides and Entrails

#FridayFreeForAll

Everyone has that one aunt at Thanksgiving. The one with the Uzi under the table. The one with a huge belly laugh and an open face, who picked you up from that house party you should've never gone to. The one with bladed wit dipped in vinegar. The one who has way too good a time and too big a mouth. But everyone just rolls their eyes and chuckles at her shenanigans.

The last time I saw my aunt alive, she'd been casually giving me tips on how to lose my virginity, over a few shots of whiskey.

"Look, baby," she said, face close, breath hot with liquid fire.

My family called me 'baby', even my dad. But he used to add 'my' in front of it. As a male, I didn't mind. It told me I was loved when the world around me became a flaming shit storm. The Z-poc actually improved my life. It really did. The light in my face every time I fired Itty Bitty was a testament to that.

"Look, baby, you don't have to be a big shot, you don't have to be the alpha. That's bullshit."

Her slurring voice soothed with its depth.

"You know what you do?"

I just blinked, elbows edged onto the makeshift bar counter out the front of Vinnie's trailer.

"Well, it's easy. You just hold your head up high."

A great gust of skepticism screwed my face up, "What?"

My mind wobbled along as I tried to make sense of what she said. Her green eyes shone as she stared at me, all serious like.

"Listen. You're a tall boy, but I see you walking round this camp all hunched over. You mumble you get crazy scared all the time." She threw her hands up.

"No one decent will want you if you keep acting that way."

I couldn't even pretend to be offended. It was true. Aunt Lina placed a warm, almond brown hand on my arm as she murmured,

"Baby, just do this one thing. Walk with your head up. I don't care if you're walking past the Donald Trump of the Zombie Apocalypse, don't ever look down. They're not better than you or worth more than you. I promise everything will start falling into place. Cos it all starts up here."

She gently brushed a tendril of black hair from my forehead. It was like silk compared to her mop of chocolate curls, but I'd always wanted whatever she had.

"The foundation is everything."

That was weeks ago.

Next minute, I walk into camp, fresh from a trading mission and supply run when I see my aunt swinging at the end of a noose and people dressed in fine white robes, cheering as her still form dangled.

If only I'd bothered to ask why the Order missionaries made her so uncomfortable. They treated everyone the same.

Didn't they?

I always assumed everyone respected her like our people did. Shows my age, I guess. In shock, I could only turn to gawk at the state of Vinnie's trailer. Some fucker had poured the shine onto the bar and lit it on fire. Those mangy, psycho, religious freaks. My face twitched when I heard their preacher appealing to my people, many of whom were in tears.

"Behold the faces of hell!" Zerrick's voice rang out into the air, unaided by a microphone, hands shaking, raised high above his head.

"These harlots and deviants have brought God's wrath upon the world."

The robed dickheads held a line of zombies with nooses around their necks like Rottweilers. Marissa, Leo, Paulie, our leader Myrnin... All black eyed and dripping syrup like spit from their mouths. A shot rang out. My aunt's body crashed to the ground and I nodded thanks at Kane. The parasites in her veins made her body thrash and convulse. Her smooth almond skin flushed with yellow. Her wife, my aunt Taya, cried. She scrambled to her wriggling form and the woman-turned-zombie gnashed at her, making screeching animal sounds.

A voice cried out and small hands grasped at me.

"Jake, where were you?"

As I hugged Annie's small, bloodied body, I looked around. The others had already dumped the shit we brought back and scrambled toward the gun caches. Zerrick's vibrant eyes stared from within the clutch of robed outsiders. He smirked, slithering deeper into its heart. The freaks stood firm, poised in front of the gallows, guns at the ready.

You did this. How could I not know?

I carried Annie and hauled ass to the tree line that leads to the lake. The smell of earth and copper curled their way up my nose. Dave called out,

"Jake, I think they're heading for the trucks. Look sharp!"

I didn't look back until I reached Kane and Alekha at the river's edge. They'd already tipped the wooden dinghy over and cracked open the container. I let my charge down. She'd stopped whimpering, but I could still hear her voice. Groaning. White film encased her once hazel eyes and I brought Itty Bitty up under her small chin. The gun felt heavier than ever as I pulled the trigger.

Kane fumbled as he loaded his shotgun. Tears dripped down his weathered red face as little Annie crumpled to the ground. I grabbed the bald man by his hefty, tattooed forearm and butted my head against his.

"This isn't your fault, ya hear me? We all let them in, we all agreed."

Alekha came up on the other side, cradling his shoulders with a bowie knife in her hand, "I thought they were good people, too. This isn't on you, just cos you vouched for them."

I nodded at her and slapped Kane on the shoulder, "Let's go."

He pumped the shotgun action as I picked up ammo for my .50 Caliber handgun. Alekha had already high-tailed it, rifle on her back. I looked to the clear blue sky, praying to whatever was out there that I would catch those maggot bitches, and that my aunt would be better off in their divine care.  

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A/N: My first ever Z-fic *squee*! Hope you enjoyed it, mateys.