It's All Fun and Games Until Someone Gets Bit

For the second time in 48 hours, light blinds Regulus, forcing him to open his eyes. He groans with an aching back, it turns out, though covered in blankets—courtesy of Remus, Regulus is sure—the couch is quite uncomfortable. He grabs his phone, which was abandoned on the coffee table next to whatever book was left for later. The battery is only at 20%. Regulus vexes himself sometimes. There is nothing from Sirius nor his boyfriend, he sighs and presses call on his brother’s contact anyway and silently prays that by some miracle, Sirius will pick up. It only rings once before the disconnected message plays. He doesn’t sit there and wait around for his brother, if they were going to be coming back to the apartment they would have done so already. Regulus swings on his brother’s jacket and picks up the metal bat. He does a quick once over before leaving in case he didn’t see anything the night before and he quietly sneaks out the front door. He hesitates. Looking back into the apartment he considers leaving a note. He slips back inside and finds a pen and paper, quickly scribbling a note.

I came by to see if you two were alive, and you weren’t here, I have your jacket and the bat you have for some reason. I’m heading north.

-Regulus

The lading is empty, and the blood has dried overnight, but no body. A little further down at the entrance Regulus can hear grumbling. As quietly as he can, Regulus sneaks down the stairs. The dead man is now circling the lobby, blocking the front entrance. He considers his options. He could attempt to fight it, but he doesn’t know how to stop one. It’s dead for fucks sake, how do you kill something already dead? He notices a rock lying on a step and grabs it, maybe he can distract it and go out the back way. He aims for the door and throws the small rock, it makes a peck sound. The staggering man immediately turns to the sound and its back is to Regulus. Without hesitation, he quickly makes his way down the last few steps and around the corner to find the emergency exit. He pushes the door open and finds himself in an alleyway. The emergency door closes behind him, clicking. It locks from the outside, he won't be able to go back inside now unless he goes back to the front and breaks the glass. He hopes his brother doesn’t come back here, he doesn’t like the idea of his brother having to deal with those things. It’s a naive notion sure, but he can dream. If his brother is even still in the city of course he is going to encounter them. It’s possible that this isn’t just contained to London either. He wonders if the Potters are okay. They live on the outskirts of a small town, a little town that his brother and James had slightly terrorized as teens. Since it's so small maybe this illness hasn’t gotten there yet. 

Something about all of this is confusing to Regulus, why hasn’t he gotten sick? He’s been near two of these things now, and he feels fine for the most part. Why are only some people getting sick but not others? And the barista? Did he have this? How long does it take for you to turn into those things? There was a mother and her daughter in that cafe, Regulus briefly wonders if they are okay. He’s stepping down the street now, he can distantly hear what he guesses are explosions of some sort but there is nothing near him, there are no people. Nothing. The usual busy London streets are constantly devoid of human life. There are plenty of cars littered around, doors thrown open, and some even have blood on them. He ignores them the best he can and continues on down the street. The streets are empty sure, but dozens of windows are broken and stores are trashed. Regulus questions if people were trying to get into the apartment building last night.

***

The black-haired man has a mental checklist in his brain as he steps into the small convenience store, being careful to step over the broken glass and items strewn across the floor. He guessed that those things could be attracted to sound, it seemed like it back at Sirius’s apartment. He didn’t find really all that much at the apartment and if he was going to be heading north he was going to need food and water. He ate his leftover sandwich from the cafe when he woke up, and he stole a reusable water bottle from his brother’s place, but having a few extra bottles wouldn’t hurt. The water is picked over, only a few bottles,—knowing how people act, a single asshole probably got it all and is hoarding it—he grabs them and paces down the next aisle for anything edible. Not a whole lot of luck there either. Regulus is picking through the scraps when he hears something moving in the back near the coolers. He freezes there debating on whether he should check or just cut his losses and find a different store. He curses at himself when his curiosity gets the better of him, he keeps low to the ground and sneaks through the store getting closer to whatever is making the sounds. Please be a dog. Please be a dog. He chants in his mind.

Rounding the last aisle, what he sees is definitely not a dog. It’s another stumbling man, well, was a man Regulus supposed. It staggers around, terrifying growling coming from its throat. It is almost facing Regulus but doesn’t seem to see him but is within arms reach of him. Way too close. He can see its blood-stained mouth and crimson shirt. He doesn’t want to risk it realizing he’s there and turns to leave, still crouched down. Under his foot, glass crunches in the quiet shop. The corpse’s head turns towards Regulus and immediately starts walking to him.

“Shit,” Regulus stumbles backward and it grabs ahold of his arm. It nearly takes a bite before he swings the bat in his free hand at it. The grip loosens, and Regulus can get his arm free. It staggers slightly and for that split second Regulus debates on what he should do. He can’t kill it, right? This was a person at some point, but what was once a person is now trying to attack him. Is he really capable of killing somebody? He stood there for too long and now the reanimated man is lunging towards him again. Instinct kicks in and Regulus swings the bat again, this time missing the head and colliding with its shoulder. This sends it falling onto one of the shelves, sending candy falling to the floor. He swings again, this time colliding with the corpse’s head without a second thought. With all the adrenaline coursing through him, he keeps swinging, realizing that the way to kill these things is to destroy the head, or rather the brain he guesses. He’s still pounding the bat into its skull loud crunching echoing in his ears and blood flying everywhere. He can feel the liquid coating his hands and splattering across his face. 

Once he is out of breath he drops the bat, making a metallic clanking sound when it collides with the ground. His hands are shaking and he feels like he has tunnel vision. His eyes land on the man’s head. What’s left of it at least. The skull is completely caved in; anything that resembles a brain is scattered across the floor. His trembling hands drip with cool blood. He turns his head to the side and he can see his gruesome reflection staring back at him. His once-clean clothes are now red and his face looks like it has been painted with crimson face paint. He feels his stomach churn as his feet stay glued to the blood-covered floor. Those shoes were white. The man’s face is burned into his brain, had he not been trying to tear Regulus apart, he looked like he could have been a kind man, dead, devoid eyes were once bright with an untold joke. Was there a mother somewhere, sitting on her floral couch waiting for her son to call and reassure her he was okay in all this chaos? He imagines Euphemia Potter sipping a cup of freshly brewed tea, he imagines his own mother scowling at the front door. He needs to get his head together.

These things are attracted to sound, and pounding a skull in is not exactly a quiet activity. Not to mention anyone who’s alive, he needs to leave before he can't. He finally peels his heels away from the blossom of blood around his feet and collects the bat from where it managed to roll. He quickly wipes his hands on his pants, desperately trying to get all of the blood off of them. They are still trembling and are still stained red. Just as he is about to head out of the shop he hears voices. Without a second thought, he dashed for the back of the room.

“Bloody hell, they got this one too?” A man says, “You think it’s even worth checking here?” 

“I don't think we should go in there,” Another says, Regulus finds a back exit and waits for them to not be looking before he leaves. Something in the back of his mind is nagging him though, compelling him to stay, “I thought I heard something.”

“And? We’ve been hearing things for the last two days.”

“If you want to go in there and get killed be my guest, but I’m not stepping a foot in there, we’ve spent the entire night trying to not get shot and attacked, quit being an idiot. We are trying to get out of London, why are we stopping?” Regulus doesn’t stick around much longer, though something makes him want to stay he slips out the back entrance and makes quick work of getting as far as he can from the store. He’s still racking his brain for why he wanted to stay, it was an incredibly stupid idea, there was just something familiar about those two. He couldn’t see them, but his brain did, apparently. Once his brain decided to enlighten him, it would be greatly appreciated. He doesn’t regret leaving though, right now he can't risk running into people he doesn’t know. Those two guys were probably looters, and he doesn’t want to go from nearly dying because of one of those things to maybe getting attacked by living people. People he knows are a different story.

 If his brother is okay-Since his brother is fine, he’ll be heading north. He will figure out how to get there. Right now though, he needs to figure out how to get out of the city. Avoiding the main streets, Regulus’s mind wonders about his time at the Potter’s home. Even before he started living there, Sirius had been there for a few years already. Fleamont and Euphemia Potter are some of the kindest souls Regulus has ever met, well aside from Pandora, but she is the definition of a saint. They had allowed Sirius and later himself to live with them, no questions asked. His own parents are very…traditional. They had brutal methods of discipline and there were more things you could do wrong than right with them. Sirius had always butted heads with their parents ever since the two of them were small, but as he grew up he gained more experiences and realized that what their parents were doing wasn’t right, and that's when he left. Sirius ran away from home at sixteen and traveled a couple of hours by himself to where his best friend lived. Regulus was furious, furious that his brother didn’t bother to bring him with him, he was angry that he was the one left to deal with the aftermath. What hurt the most was that Sirius didn't trust him enough to tell him anything. It had barely been a year before Regulus couldn’t take it any longer and made his own way to the Potter’s home. Regulus remembered that rainy night vividly.

 A barely fifteen-year-old Regulus stood outside of an old front door, he cursed at himself for not checking the forecast before he left because roughly half through his trip the sky opened up and it hadn’t stopped raining since. His clothes are soaked, and his dark hair is sticking to his forehead annoyingly. The door mocked him as he just stared at the worn wood, begging him to use the old-fashioned knocker. After several minutes of debating on leaving and never coming back he eventually shakily knocks on the door. After what felt like an eternity the door opens and warm brown eyes stare back at him.

"I'm sorry, I just- I didn't know where else to go." He said, not meeting James' eyes. James gaped at him. Sirius, who had been sitting just in the other room, came bursting into the hallway. He halts to a stop when their eyes meet, they stand there for a moment staring at each other. Sirius runs forward, catching Regulus into a tight bone-crushing hug. Eventually, Regulus wraps his arms around his brother. It took everything in him to not burst into tears right then and there.

"What happened?" Sirius whispered, he still hadn't released his brother from their hug.

"It's bad, really bad," Regulus responds, "I couldn’t take it anymore Sirius, everything has gotten worse since you left, they were saying horrible things and I couldn’t stand it anymore- It just came out, I didn’t mean to tell them, Sirius, you’re the only one I’ve ever told, and now they know." This got Sirius's attention. He pulled back and kept his hands on his brother's shoulders.

"They know…" Sirius stops and looks at James, he looks back to Regulus, giving him a look. Regulus nods his head, and Sirius visibly pales, "Fuck." Sirius pulls his younger brother back into a hug.

"What am I going to do? Sirius, this is bad." Regulus trembled, "They weren't supposed to know, and now...Now I've gone here!" Regulus pushes back from Sirius, taking a step back, "They'll know you're here and force you to go back."

“What are you talking about? Regulus, they’ve known I was here the whole time,” Siring exclaimed, “If they were going to drag me back, they would have done so already. And I think Euphemia would actually get violent if they came anywhere near here.” Sirius laughs at his own joke, and James smiles, nodding.

“Not a chance either of you have to go back,” James reassured, he lingered for a moment before stepping away to get his parents. The two brothers stand in the entrance in silence for a moment. Sirius releases his brother from their hug and glares down at his wet clothes.

“You’ve gotten my clothes wet.” He scowls.

Regulus rolls his eyes, “Oh my bad, I’ll just magic my clothes dry next time. How inconsiderate of me, prat.” He wants to be mad, one of the first things he’s said to him in almost a year, and Sirius is complaining that his clothes have gotten wet, typical Sirius. He wouldn’t have it any other way. His wet clothes are catching up to him now standing in the dim entranceway of the warm house, his dripping, cold clothes hang on him heavily, and he can't help but start to shiver. He wraps his arms around himself trying to warm up, though it's not really working. James reappears, this time with both of his parents in tow and a dry towel. The taller passes the fluffy white towel to Regulus to wrap around himself, “Thanks.” He says quietly. There are now several pairs of eyes on him, causing the hair on his neck to prickle.

“So you are Regulus then?” A tall older man says, Fleamont Potter. The younger nods, Fleamont’s gaze is intense, it reminds him of his own father's gaze, but instead of a stark coldness that always bore into his soul, Mr. Potter’s eyes were warm, just like his sons. All the older man does is nod, Regulus would soon learn that Fleamont Potter is a man of few words, only choosing to speak when necessary. It was a quality that Regulus appreciated about the man and often wished James had inherited the trait.

“We’re glad to finally meet you, dear, James, why don’t you grab his bags and bring them in.” Euphemia immediately goes into mother mode. Euphemia is a fierce woman who won't hesitate to protect whatever or whoever she holds dear, Regulus pitties the poor person who decides to cross her. Through her fierceness, she is one of the kindest Regulus has met, “Come in, come in! If you stand in here in those soaked clothes any longer, you’ll catch your death!” She quickly leads Regulus further into the house, Sirius follows close behind. Regulus pulls the towel closer to himself as he takes to surroundings in. She leads him to the couch and prompts him to take a seat.

“I’ll go get you some dry clothes, Reg,” Sirius pipes up.

“Something normal, please!” Regulus shouts as his brother climbs up the stairs. Euphemia laughs as James and his father step into the room, the two glance at each other confused, but neither of them look all that surprised.

“I like this one!” She says, a warm smile lingering on her face.

The fond memory fades, and Regulus is brought back to his story-like reality. He would give everything to suddenly wake up and realize that the last few years have been a dream, where all of this insane shit isn’t happening, where he didn’t make all of his mistakes. Things maybe would have turned out differently he thinks. It’s somewhat better now, Christmas is bearable, but there is still a lingering awkwardness occasionally. Euphemia has reiterated a many time that Regulus is welcome anytime, although he hasn’t really taken her up on the offer. He has always been able to use the excuse of work taking up the majority of his time and can’t really get time off—which is true, for the most part—but usually, she knew he was avoiding a certain individual. All that was history though, none of that trivial teenage drama matters at the end of the world. He’s sure the two of them can act like adults. Regulus sighs, he’s way on over his head.

Regulus doesn’t exactly know where he is, he’d been lost in his thoughts and now he finds himself in what looks like a war zone. The buildings are even more messed up than they have been on previous streets and it’s obvious that there have been some fires and charred cars are littered about. There are only a small handful of cars that look like they could maybe drive, not far, but maybe can drive. Then, just up the street, he sees a Jeep in army colors; he keeps his hope in check because the driver's side door is thrown open. The area is quiet and Regulus glances around wearily, the silence is freaking him out. Up to this point, even if things feel like they have frozen, there has been noise, a distant sound that he hasn’t been able to place. Now though, it is silent, Regulus feels like, at any moment, someone or something is going to jump out of some dark, back alleyway and murder him. He rummages through the Jeep, hoping to find the keys, or maybe a radio. He has zero clue of what is happening in the world, Regulus knows that this virus is in the U.S., but where else is it? All of this feels like it’s happened far too fast. After he’s checked all of the compartments he can find in the vehicle he groans because in all of them, there are no keys and not even a radio. He takes a glance at his surroundings again to see if maybe there was something he missed. Just a few feet away from him was a body. He had been doing his best to ignore it, the body is wearing an army uniform covered in browning blood.

Steeling his emotions, he carefully walks over to the body, keeping his bat ready just in case. Once he’s standing above it he gently nudges it, making sure it is truly dead and isn’t coming back. It just lays there motionless, eyes staring, unmoving, up to the sky. He pushes it again this time with the bat and still the body remains where it’s lying. Regulus hesitantly crouches down and places the bat down, for a long moment he just stares at the soldier. He needs to get the hell out of here, and this guy hopefully has the keys. For a moment, Regulus stares at the body in front of him, trying to bring himself to go through the soldier's pockets. He takes a deep breath and goes to go through the pockets, but beside the soldier is something cool and heavy. The gun is unnatural in his hands, and the weight feels awkward. He examines the weapon, keeping his fingers away from the trigger as he turns it over in his hands. He’d never held a gun before, let alone fired one, but he could learn. He doesn’t necessarily have to fire it, but a weapon like this would be a nice assurance to have. If there was a chance he’d encounter any group of people he could use it to keep himself safe. Not that he would ever shoot someone. Just having it could be a deterrent in itself. Those things are attracted by sound so firing it would be stupid, however, it’s heavy and could used as a blunt object. He places the gun down and continues to search the soldier's pockets, praying that there is a key. He nearly cheers when he pulls out a set of keys and a small handheld radio from the same pocket. These have to be it. 

Suddenly, the body below him stirs and before he can stop it cold hands grab ahold of his leg. Surprisingly strong for someone dead, it tries to pull his leg towards its mouth, open wide and a low growl escaping menacingly. He reaches for the bat, but all he feels is rough asphalt, quickly glancing to where he’d left the thing he curses. It must have rolled after he laid it down because now it was out of reach, The zombie still trying to tear into him chomps mindlessly and nearly takes a chunk from his leg. He desperately tries to kick it off but he can't seem to get the right footing to do any meaningful damage. Frantically, he tries to find a way out of this, and his eyes land on the gun—which is in arms reach. Without thinking, Regulus hastily grabs the firearm and aims it at the dead man, his hands shaking. Not even a second later he pulls the trigger and a bullet flies into the skull of the soldier, and the body goes limp. He pushes himself away from the body, putting some distance between them. His breathing is ragged and he still has the gun up, ready to shoot again if that demon decides that it isn’t quite done attempting to dine on him. After it doesn’t get back up and his heart rate slows to a somewhat normal pace, he lowers the gun and stares up at the sky. He got his crash course in guns a lot sooner than he anticipated, and for the second time that day, he could feel cool drops of blood on his face. His eyes trace the street, he doesn’t want to be sneaked up on someone living and not. 

He stands and examines the gun letting his eyes travel across the different details. He notices a trigger on the back of the gun, with his thumb he pulls it down and hears a click. He doesn’t know really anything about guns, but he thinks that there is usually a safety on these types of guns. Regulus glances around and sees a charred car nearby and aims. He attempts to pull the trigger, but it won’t budge. Satisfied with at least understanding that much for now he puts the gun into his bag and he wanders over to where the bat had rolled to. 

With the keys gripped in his hand and bat in the other, he slides into the driver's seat, placing his belongings into the passenger seat. He shoves the key into the ignition and turns it over. The Jeep comes to life with a low hum. Regulus grins and pulls the driver’s side door closed and the seatbelt across his body. He’s got a car, a small radio—as well as the one built into the car— and two weapons. He’s going to find his brother because if he’s not in the city he can't have gotten far. For now though, he’s getting the hell out of London.