#zombiestuck

There were people with him. The other two men with him were chattering about something. They sure loved to talk. Always filling the silence when they could. Karkat used to do the same thing. Most of his friends were like that; they loved to annoy the shit out of him every chance they got once they were safe. He couldn’t make out what they were saying. Didn’t bother to contribute to the conversation when all of his energy was going into pushing the car. 

Stupid hunk of junk ran out of gas about half a mile out. Luckily they were off the main highway. It was a straight shot to the town now. It was just barely in sight in the distance. Heatwaves bounced and spun off the road ahead when Karkat lifted his head to look. 

Someone speaks to him, but he can’t process what they’re saying. Trying to understand the words made his head pound even harder. The blonde to his left has an unreadable expression. Those stupid ass sunglasses cover most of his face. The guy never takes them off. It’s a miracle they’ve never caused an issue during a fight with the infected. 

Karkat just shakes his head, giving the car another push. The action makes his stomach turn. Every push forward makes his body ache. Every drop of sweat was accumulating as lead in his clothes. He needed to take the coat off, but if he stops pushing, he knows he’ll need to sit down. All they have to do is get to the point. Get to the gate. Get the car inside, make sure it’s safe. He can’t rest until it’s done. 

The other voice, a man with glasses on his right raises his voice louder. God, can’t they just shut up? Push the damn car. It feels like they’re not even moving anymore. Is it stuck? Karkat uses his whole body to push it forward, and it doesn’t budge. Is it stuck? The question doesn’t make it past his lips, only quiet grumbling follows the idea. Glaring over the trunk of the car, Karkat meets their gaze. They’ve both stopped pushing to look at him, furrowed brows and concerned looks. Well, one concerned look. It’s hard to tell with the blonde in the shades. 

Move it. Move. The Fucking. Car. Another push, another wretch of bile in his empty gut causes Karkat to wince. They can’t stop now. If this doesn’t get back to the town, then it’s all for nothing. Karkat might as well go throw himself down the river. Drown so the fish can eat him. He’s already so late getting back. He should’ve been back days ago, what if something happened? 

There’s no time. The only thing on Karkats mind is getting this shitty car home. If they won’t move it, he’ll do it on his own. Fuck whatever they’re talking about. Fuck them. Fuck everything. Fuck these mountains. Fuck the bumpy road. Fuck, fuck, fuck-

In one final grunt, Karkat manages to push the car forward a solid foot or two on his own. This causes everyone to get put off balance as it rolls to a stop. The two men beside him stumble, catching themselves. 

Karkat unfortunately could not. As soon as the solid surface of the trunk is out from under his arms, he’s met with the solid surface of the concrete road under him. Hitting the ground with a harsh sound, his head spins as he finally collapses. 

– 

“Oh, bollocks-” Glasses rushes over to the fallen man, dropping to the ground. “I told you we should’ve stopped to rest ages ago!”

“And I told you we should’ve knocked his ass out and tucked him in the backseat.” The man with the shades sighs, keeping an eye on their surroundings. Despite being told it was safe, you never truly know these days. “I’m surprised it took this long. Was sure he’d pass out after throwing up back there.”

“This isn’t funny, Strider. Get some water.” The brunette helps Karkat roll over, taking the bag from his bag to lay under his head. “Poor fellow is burning up.”

“Bitten?” Strider tosses a water bottle over. It dribbled into Karkat’s mouth, then the bottle was pressed to his forehead. 

“Of course not. I don’t think so, at least. He would’ve turned by now. Must be exhaustion.” When they met in the city the guy was…running on fumes already. It’s a miracle he’s gotten this far without much rest. “Those gates down the street must be the town.”

“He’ll be pissed if we leave the car.”

“Righto…maybe one of us could go get help?” 

“Jake-”

“It would only be for a few moments!” Jake’s pleading gaze made the blonde shift his feet. “I’ve got my gun, I’ll fire it off if something happens. Surely you’ll hear it.”

“So will everything in a mile radius.”

“Well do you want to sit here with an aggressive, dehydrated man passed out in your care? We can’t leave him, and there’s no way we can push this on our own all the way there.”

Splitting up was never a good idea. It’s gotten them into nothing but trouble so far. 

“If you don’t go, I will.” Jake warned, already clicking his backpack off of his broad shoulders. “We don’t have time for this-”

“I’ll go!” Pinching the bridge of his nose under his shades, the man finally relented. “Fine. I’ll be back. If anything happens, fuck this guy and fuck this car.” 

Shoulders slumping, Jake nods. “Hurry back. Just use your Striderly charm if they give you any trouble.” Jake gives the man a wink, which earns him a huff and eyeroll behind the shades. 

Charm. The only charm he’s got is his awkward quirkiness and a sword, but whatever. Hopefully it’s enough to keep him from being shot on sight. Commander Killjoy down there seemed a little too trigger happy for his taste. No telling how the others of his group might react.