Rotten

Chapter Four

It's quiet…too quiet."Tweek, what the fuck are you doing? This isn't some kind of James Bond movie, and your damn bat isn't a gun so stop holding it like that." Craig spat, crossing his arms across his dirty chest and stomping off of the last stair.Clearly he thought I was joking around when I dove from the staircase to the living room, rolling behind a destroyed couch and holding my baseball bat up against my chest. But, I was actually completely serious. I needed to be stealthy, because—unlike Craig's undead ass—the zombies will smell me and eat me alive.I peeked over the edge of the green ripped fabric only to find the living room completely clear of monster cannibals. Well, save for one."Hey—ngh—you can sniff things out r-right?" I asked, standing up from my crouched position."Yeah, I guess you could say that." Craig frowned, looking somewhat offended by my wording."C-Can you hear things better than normal too?" I murmured, carefully stepping toward the closed doorway to which I saw Bebe enter."A bit." Craig answered, following my silent footsteps."Is there anything coming from the other side of this door?" I asked, carefully placing a gloved hand on the knob and twisting it slowly.Craig paused, playing with the ends of his chullo hat with his blue tinted fingers."Nope." He responded.This answer caused a mixed reaction to take place within me. On one hand, there weren't any zombies on the other side of that door to rip me apart. But, on the other, that meant that Bebe wasn't there, or if she was—she wasn't moving."Are you sure?" I asked desperately, clutching the knob incredibly tight. I glanced back at Craig for reassurance, but all I received was a roll of his black dead eyes."Yes, I'm fucking sure." Asshole.Without further hesitation, I pushed the door open and was met with…an empty kitchen—save for a few decapitated corpses littering the ground. I looked around the tiled room desperately, although there would be nowhere for her to hide in here. The marble counters were splattered with black blood, but I was relieved that none of the gruesome liquid dribbling down the walls and tables belonged to a human.I immediately dropped my baseball bat and buried my leather-clad hands deep into my hair, and pulled on it painfully (what can I say, old habits die hard)."Jesus Christ! She's gone!" I wailed, running to the cabinets and throwing them open. There were multiple bags of chips, pretzels, and crackers inside; and if I were in the right state of mind, I would have snatched them to save as food for later. But, my brain wasn't working rationally at the moment, which happens from time to time.I mean, Bebe was gone. She was gone! The only human being I've interacted with since the infection took over just vanished into thin air. I wasn't prepared to face that! So, my thoughts began running wild, disbanding logic for the idea that she must be hiding in one of these cabinets. She's totally behind this bag of Cheetohs, or hiding in the refrigerator under the spoiled milk. Each time I didn't find her, I'd toss the piles of food onto the floor.A desperate whimper escaped my throat when a hand wrapped around my wrist, yanking it away from the rotten meat I was about to fling to the side. Only now did I realize that I'd started crying, tears pooling at the bottom edge of my goggles.I tore my arm from Craig's grasp, pushing my goggles up onto my forehead and furiously wiping at the hot tears that began to leak from my eyes. The fact that I was crying in front of someone didn't make it any better either, and just made me cry more.How long was I upstairs? Was it even long enough for something to happen to Bebe? Then I turned my head to look at Craig; he was staring back at me with a tense expression, like he wasn't sure how to go about this. He seemed to be on the verge of awkwardly comforting me, or yelling at me for being an idiot. I didn't let either happen though."Don't ever touch m-me." I spat at him, rubbing the thick fabric of my green jacket as if I'd been infected just by his touch. Craig frowned, his bushy eyebrows furrowing from underneath his greasy black bangs."Excuse me for stopping you from having a fucking mental breakdown in the kitchen." He growled back. "Throwing food around isn't going to make Bebe magically reappear."I glared at Craig hotly, picking up my baseball bat among the squished bags of food. This was his entire fault. It's always his fault."I-if it weren't for you, I would have gotten down here quicker!" I cried, walking toward Craig until his back was against the wall. I held my baseball bat to his chest, and he stared down at it with a raised brow. "I should have killed you in the closet! Ah! I'm crazy! Bringing azombie along with me! What was I thinking?"Craig's black eyes hardened, and he fixed me with a terrifying glare of his own."If it weren't for me," he rumpled, taking the end of the bat in his hand and lowering it from himself slowly, "you'd be major zombie chow."I exhaled sharply through my nose, and tore myself away from Craig; instead to leave the kitchen and walk back into the living room. I could hear him following behind me slowly.I couldn't deny that he was right. Disgusting zombie or not, he saved my life, and I could be crawling around up there moaning for brains.He could still be saving you for dessert. A small voice in the back of my head reminded me, but I shushed it promptly. I'd worry about that later."Does this house have a basement?" I asked, coming to a halt in the center of the room. Craig came up beside me, absently wiping at the blood ground into his jacket."Nope." He replied, glancing at me from the corner of his eye. "She might have baled out if the zombies were too much."I shook my head at Craig's notion. Bebe wouldn't run out like that, at least not before finding a way to let me know. Maybe there was no way to get to you.Shuffling to the window at the front of the house, I peered out the smudged glass to make sure there weren't any cannibalistic animated bodies stumbling around. And, while zombies weren't roaming the streets, the view in front of my made me gasp.Bebe's beat up Honda remained parked in the driveway. The doors were still closed, and it looked just the way we left it. However, that's not the part that caused a million paranoid voices to scream in my head. The decaying lawn sported large indentations that could only belong to some sort of large vehicle. It must have been heavy, like an SUV or small truck, because the tracks dug into the ground harshly. They were probably an inch or two deep and led right up to the concrete porch outside the front door."C-Craig! Someone must have taken her!" I shouted, instantly ripping the large door open and stepping out into the fresh, still air. "How could this have happened? Ngh—we were only upstairs for, like, twenty minutes man! Agh! I should h-have been listening, I-I should have been able to help! I—""Tweek!" Craig barked, his putrid breath curling around my ear. I winced and shuffled away from where he'd planted himself next to me. "Calm down, you can't blame yourself for this, alright?" He crouched down next to the imprints and prodded at them curiously."But we're never going to find her!" I cried, instantly grabbing at my frayed hair again. Did the government take her? Did some kind of cult group?Craig stood up quickly, growling and reaching toward me, but he hesitated, his dead hands returning to his sides. "We might be able to track her." He said quietly, as if embarrassed by the idea. "Every…person…leaves a scent trail." He mumbled. "It's—uh—it's how zombies always manage to find people.""You're a zombie." I said, as if Craig wasn't aware of the fact. "So, y-you can smell Bebe right now?""I can smell four people, not including you. I don't know which one's Bebe, but if they took her…" Craig paused, I watched with sick fascination as he inhaled deeply, using a technique so many monsters have used to deplete the human race, "that way." He pointed to our left, farther down the residential road and into town.I pursed my lips before glancing at Bebe's car. The keys should still be in the ignition. We usually kept them in there incase we needed a quick get away."We'll take her car." I said while wrenching the driver's side open and plopping myself down into the worn leather seat, throwing my baseball bat into the back. Honestly, I wasn't the best driver. I'd never gotten my license. I have my permit though! It was just; my driver's test didn't go to well…as in, I had a panic attack before the instructor even got into the car. I haven't driven since.Craig seemed to be concerned with the current situation as he sat down in the passenger seat, eying me up and down skeptically and asking, "You can drive?""W-Well, you know, I can drive—ngh—a little." I muttered nervously, buckling my seat belt and turning the keys stuck in the ignition. The small car sputtered to life shortly."A little? Jesus Christ, get out, I'll drive." Craig mumbled, already motioning to open his door."No!" I screeched, making the rotten kid beside me wince and glare in my direction. "You can't drive! I've got this!" I pressed my foot lightly on the gas petal, and was horrified when the car didn't move. Oh God, it's broken!"It's still in park you dumb ass." Craig snipped, taking the knob to my right in his hand and thrusting it into reverse. I shrieked as the car began to ease backwards, stomping my foot on the brakes. "And, I can drive. I got my license.""No you can't!" I insisted. "You're a zombie, and z-zombies can't drive!""The hell Tweek?" Craig growled. "I think we can both agree that I'm more than capable of doing things that other zombies can't. I'm pretty sure I can drive.""Doesn't change the fact—ngh—that you're a walking dead man." I snapped back, focusing my gaze on the rear view mirror and easing my foot off of the brakes. My comment seemed to quiet Craig down for the time being, and I managed to back out of the driveway successfully. The car crawled down the road (I had to be careful, didn't want to crash into anything!) slowly, and Craig kicked at the cans at his feet impatiently."You have to let me drive," he said roughly, I could tell he was still angry about my earlier remark, "or I won't tell you which direction they went in."The car lurched to a quick halt."What? That's not fair man!" I cried."Yeah it is. I've got the trail, so I get to drive." Craig muttered simply. "Besides, it's better than letting you kill us in some freak accident."You can't kill what's already dead, is what I wanted to say, but I held it back."Fine." I sighed after a long moment, turning the car off and unbuckling my seat belt.We were on the road for probably two minutes before the gaslight turned on."Fuck man, the car's going to break down!""No it's not, we just need to find a gas station." Craig said, rolling his eyes as if my worries were irrelevant. "I know there's one up here…not too far off the trail." He mumbled, turning onto an almost exact replica of Main Street. It was really nostalgic, and I didn't like it one bit. Tears would soon prickle in my eyes if I began thinking about South Park."S-So," I said uneasily, "you can actually smell them, even in this—agh—car, with me?"Craig was quiet for a moment, his hands shifting on the steering wheel uncomfortably."Not really so much in here, your stench kind of blocks out the rest." He snorted as I glared at him. Fuck you, I bet I smell great. "But, uh, there's also like an actual trail. Kind of like someone was dragging around a smoke machine or some shit. So, it doesn't matter much that I can't smell it well, I can see it." He mumbled all of this like it was no big deal he could see a misty trail of people's scent leading him to his prey! Well, in this case, it was actually quite useful. I could question Craig more about this skill he obtained (it explained why zombies kept finding us), but I decided to ask about something much less important."How do I—ngh—smell?" I asked. Craig barely even paused before responding."Weird."I crinkled my nose at that."What do you mean?" I snipped back, slightly offended."Like, I don't know," Craig sighed, glancing at me with his dead eyes, "you smell tangy, sour, like a lemon or something.""Jesus! I'm not a lemon!" I cried indignantly while Craig let out a snort of laughter. It sounded strange, unnatural, like he wasn't used to emitting such a sound. It didn't last long though as he slowed down and pulled into a deserted Shell gas station."Are you ever—erg—tempted to…e-eat people? Me?" I asked quietly after he'd put the car into park next to a run down pump. Craig was quiet for a long time, so I wasn't surprised when he softly answered,"Yeah. The worst part is, I can't even fucking just get over it. I crave it y'know? It's only natural." He said bitterly. "So I guess, I want to eat you, but I won't…give me some credit, I've got self control."That was sweet but, being an asshole to Craig is too much fun, so while my mind could have gone out on a paranoid rampage (which I'm sure it will do later), instead it went into a different direction."Do you f-find me irresistible?" I asked, smirking and making a kissy face at the angsty zombie beside me. Craig just rolled his eyes."Please don't turn this into some kind of Twilight romance shit." He smirked, and my cheeks brightened angrily. He would think that everyone wants to be with him, even when HE'S A ROTTING PILE OF SHIT. And then I'm reminded of high school, and the hell he put me through."Ngh—fuck you. The last thing I want is to be in a 'romance' with youas my 'lover'. Remember h-how well you treated me last time?" I hissed.Craig winced at that, immediately dragging his black irises away from me, and opening the car door quickly.Huh. Guess he did remember.I picked up one of the cans littering the floor near my feet: Spaghetti O's. My stomach twisted and turned, more out of anxiety than hunger. What happened to Bebe? Why would people take her? What was going on?Craig got back into the car shortly and started it back to life."You don't mind if I put in a CD, do you?" I questioned, if not to get rid of the deafening silence that consumed the car."Go for it."I turned on the radio and moved to the glove compartment to grab a random CD when my trembling hand stopped cold.For the first time since the zombies appeared, a static voice played through the radio's speakers