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After Vance really had the reality set in that he and Griffin were really separated and chances of finding each other were low, he’s not going to lie, he almost lost his shit. He had one job, just one goal and he fucked it all up. He damn near gave up, he had kicked all of his shit around and was really contemplating just walking out into a horde of zombies without any form of protection. Then he realized that that was a quitters way to go and he ain’t a fucking quitter. So, he took a minute and got his shit back together, he put everything he needed back in his bag. He made sure he didn’t ruin anything important, he drank some water and he got back up. Maybe it would take a while, but he was determined, he was going to find Griffin again, even if it was the last thing he ever did. Not to mention he was stubborn as all hell, he wouldn’t believe that Griffin was dead or alive until he saw it himself. He had decided he was gonna stay in the city and just live as normally as possible. He wasn’t risking moving from city to city and just narrowly missing his brother. He wasn’t getting that close just to fail. And so, like his brother, he had picked up the habit of counting days and he had come to that decision almost two years ago.
If Vance had been keeping up with it well, then that meant it was about mid-December, more specifically the fourteenth. He assumed he was right because it was colder than a snowman in the ninth circle of hell. And judging from the sky and how windy it was, a snowstorm was about to roll in. Which meant it was the time of year when he had no choice but to abandon the woods and head into the city. Last year, it wouldn’t have been as much of a problem but this year is a tad different than last. Because in between then and now, Vance has found himself a small furry companion. He knows, zombies and all that shit, so having a cat running around isn’t ideal. Even more so because they need food too but c’mon, did you really expect Vance to leave him? Not to mention, he had a soft spot for cats.
They had a couple of cats while he was growing up, the earliest one he remembered had been an all-black cat named Sabbath. Like it wasn’t already obvious, but his mom had named him after the band Black Sabbath. They had him up until Vance was 17, he was a mean old thing. Always batting and hissing at everyone, except for Vance. Sabbath had always slept on the pillow right beside Vance’s head at night. And he would follow Vance around the house, if he was laying on the couch watching a movie, Sabbath would hop up in his lap. His mom and Griffin had always made comments about Vance being a cat whisperer and to be honest he couldn’t really argue. He had always been good with animals but was always especially good with cats. And the apocalypse apparently wasn’t a fucking exception.
It had been about halfway through April when he found it. About a month before, the weather had cleared up enough for him to be able to go back to the outskirts. So, he had immediately gone back, as time went on, downtown had started giving him the creeps. It was so empty, not in the sense that there was nothing there cause believe him, those streets were fucking filled. It was just empty in the sense that all the noise, all the livelihood had been sucked right out of it. Only leaving behind a shadow of what had come before. The day he found them, he had only come into the city because he was running pretty low on bandages.
The last time he had left the city, a couple of those nasty-ass zombies caught wind of him. He ended up having to jump a chain link fence and cut his leg coming off the top of it. It had been kind’ve hard trying to weave his way through the woods like normal when he could feel all the blood flowing down his leg. Eventually, he had come up on a good enough spot and he sat down to assess the damage. After rolling up his pants leg, all he had seen was a lot of blood. So, he took one of his water bottles out and poured some on his leg, and used a cloth to wipe the thick red liquid off. It didn’t stay clean for long so he shoved the cloth on it to soak some of the blood. It hadn’t looked deep enough to need stitches but it wasn’t just a little scratch either. All he could really do was just clean it out and wrap it up. Only time would tell if he just so happened to continue his streak of good luck by getting tetanus. And for once, actual luck was on his side. The first couple of days were fine, just swelling and some pain but no sign of infection. So, he kept making sure to clean and rewrap it. And that worked fine and well until he realized he was starting to run low on bandages and hydrogen peroxide. His leg looked mostly fine now, it was still sort of red around the cut but it had healed pretty nicely, he knew it would scar but that’s the fucking least of his concerns.
You know that fucker in all the zombie movies that was in the outhouse when it all went down? Yeah, he wasn’t gonna be the dumbass who gets caught with his pants down in an emergency, so the only option was to just go back in the city and grab what he needed. Vance had tried to avoid going to the pharmacy, he knew people were probably crowding the hell out of that place at the start so more people meant more zombies. But he guess it was finally time to brave it, so he just went straight for that shit.
It hadn’t been as bad as he thought it would be, and there was also more than he thought there would be. Like a shitload more. He really thought it would’ve been cleared out by now, he was suspicious that his luck had been doing so well but he wasn’t gonna say anything to fuck it up so he carried on. He grabbed the bandages and hydrogen peroxide. He also grabbed some more general things like ibuprofen, cough syrup, tweezers, a band he could use as a tourniquet; just in case, some antibiotics, and he found another flashlight with some batteries by the front. Some of those things he already had and others he didn’t but nonetheless, it helps to have extra.
He was about to leave when he heard something rattle behind him. He couldn’t explain it but it didn’t sound loud enough to be made by a person or a zombie, so it piqued his curiosity. Vance knows the entire curiosity killed the cat saying, but did you know there’s more to it? The full thing is curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back and who the hell is Vance to argue with that logic? So, against every single bit of his better judgment, he turns around and goes to investigate. He’s walking by a shelf full of old chips and candies when he notices a small flash of movement, like something was darting behind the checkout counter. To his knowledge, there wasn’t such a thing as a zombie animal, and he hadn’t seen anything like that but you never know. So, he grabs his gun out. If it’s an animal it’ll move faster and be a smaller target so a gun’s better. Vance’s footsteps were careful and quiet as he was turning the corner to get behind the counter. As soon as he’s there, he looks around and his eyes finally find what had moved. Sitting in the corner, huddled under an old stool is a black cat. Vance moves a little closer and he can see the cat’s fur fluff up, so he slows his pace before he eventually gets crouched down in front of the cat. It’s got a little bit of white on it’s chest and the tip of it’s nose. And it’s bright brown eyes were staring right at him. Vance slowly sticks his hand out, leaving enough space for the cat to move forward on it’s own. The cat blinks at him and tentatively moves to sniff at his hand, and it apparently decides that Vance is an alright guy because it starts to rub it’s face on his hand. Vance feels the beginnings of a smile form on his face. The cat moved it’s head farther out and so Vance moved his hand around to pet it. The more he looks at it the more he’s reminded of Sabbath.
Vance remembers how Sabbath always loved having behind his ears scratched, so he tries it on this cat. And apparently, it works, the cat starts purring and leaning more into Vance’s hand. He pets the cat for a few more minutes before he gets up. He turns to start leaving but it meows and when he looks back down at it, he can’t fucking leave it. Just look at the little guy, or girl, he doesn’t really know but his point still stands. You try to leave a cat alone in that type of world and see how you do. So, he sighs and sits back down with the cat. He sits there for a little while longer before he realizes he’s kind’ve stuck with this cat now. Literally, the cat climbed onto his lap and is refusing to get up and it starts batting at Vance if he takes his hand away. Therefore, it needs a name. He looks at the cat for a minute before deciding, he figures that he’ll go with his mom’s way of naming so he decides on Ozzy; short and fitting.
After Vance had named him, the deal was sealed. There wasn’t a way in hell he was getting separated from that cat, and it was only further solidified after Vance had actually fed Ozzy. It was just some old chef boyardee shit he had in his bag and he knows it’s not good for a cat but it’s all he had on him. Vance realized pretty soon after that, that he would need to get actual cat food. There had been a pet supply a couple doors down from where he used to work. He wasn’t sure about letting Ozzy just run alongside him, cause what if something grabbed him but then he also thought that Ozzy definitely looked older than a year or two and he’s survived this long so it’ll be alright. And it was, Ozzy got there no problem, he ran alongside Vance. When a couple of zombies came his way, Ozzy actually found a place to hide in the shadows, his fur helping conceal him. So, it obviously wasn’t a bad choice.
The front door had been unlocked and everything inside just seemed frozen in time. He had roamed around a bit and there were old lunches still in the fridge, and yes, opening the fridge was like releasing a stink bomb. Vance should’ve used some fucking context clues. After that, it the smell started spreading around the store so he had to grab stuff quick. Otherwise, he might just go feed himself to the zombies because jesus christ that fucking stinks. He grabs a small bag of cat food off the shelf, then grabs some of the small fold-up bowls so he can put them in his bag easily. On his way back out, he passes by a bucket full of collars. He decides it couldn’t hurt and grabs red one that looks like it’ll fit. Ozzy is already sat by the door, so Vance kneels down and clicks the collar on him. The cat just sort of ignores it, choosing to start cleaning itself instead. Vance stands back up and checks the street, only seeing a few stragglers before he opens the door back up and heads to one of the alleys that lead out of town. The buildings all fade together and Vance had really stopped paying attention to what they were a long time ago. Once he reaches the end, he double-checks that Ozzy’s still by him, and as soon as it is confirmed. Vance headed back into the woods and set up camp.
Since then, Ozzy usually joins Vance when he runs into the city. He’s actually proved pretty useful. He’ll run under zombies feet and you know they don’t really have great motor coordination so they’ll fall. It’s saved Vance a couple of times so he ain’t complaining. His life is a fair trade for the extra food and water he has to get for Ozzy. Not to mention, Ozzy seemed to have a better sense for noticing if something was around, he would start getting antsy and his fur would stand up. Vance wouldn’t lie though, the day after he brought the cat back with him he was seriously questioning his lapse in judgment. He was going back and forth about how damn stupid it was to even go investigate a sound. And then about how stupid it was to bring a cat because it was an extra mouth to feed and something else to watch out for. He never made impulsive decisions like that. He’s always been logical, weighing pros and cons, preparing, and making sure he’s prepared. Then again, with the way everything is now, you have to be impulsive. Impulse is one step in between life and death.
Though after a while he got over it. It happened, he knew he had a lapse of judgment but at least it turned out to be a much-needed lapse of judgment. Ozzy was good for him to have around. Vance hadn’t realized how caught up in his problems and just how shitty he was doing until he started doing better. It was a fucking surprise he hadn’t died with how much fucking tunnel vision he had. His only goal had been to find Griffin or get supplies and that was it. Of course, it doesn’t mean he’s just completely dropping trying to find him, he’s still sure as hell gonna do that. He’s just making sure he doesn’t get so consumed with it that he puts himself at more risk again. He figured he couldn’t really find Griffin if he was just a walking corpse.
So, after that inspiring little pep talk, he figured that the next winter he would just stay in the city permanently. That way he wouldn’t miss it if Griffin rolled back through but now that winter’s here, he’s not so sure. The city was still crawling with zombies, it wasn’t as bad as it used to be but it still wasn’t great. Not to mention, the longest he’d stayed in the city had only been three or four months when the weather was too bad to stay out, and even then, he had a couple of close calls. Safety was the biggest issue, having to worry about freezing to death and about any potential entryways that something could crawl through, having to worry about running into other people. Sure, he would have to worry about the same thing in the woods but it’s not nearly as common, aside from the freezing thing. The woods weren’t exactly equivalent to a heated room. Nowhere was really heated unless you had a fire but a snowstorm would knock one right out so a closed room is the best option.
Well, he guesses that decides it for him, it’s the best option. He’ll find something that’s got multiple exits just in case and having a permanent place means he can stockpile some more stuff. And with that decision, he packs up where he’s been staying. He double-checks around the campsite and makes sure nothing is getting left behind. Supplies are practically fucking gold nowadays, when you’re about four years in, things start getting scarce so you have to use them wisely. Otherwise, you’re pretty much dead meat, no pun intended. After he triple-checks the area, he goes to grab Ozzy from the tree he’s napping by. Vance kneels and picks him up. All Ozzy does is meow before making himself comfortable in Vance’s arms.
As soon as he’s made sure he’s got Ozzy with one hand, he pulls out his knife in the other, just in case. The trek through the woods is relatively easy, most of the zombies were too far away to notice him as long as he was quiet. It was only towards the end that they encountered one. Vance hadn’t noticed it at first but he heard and felt Ozzy start growling so he knew something was wrong. He looked around and saw it stumbling over towards him, so that was at least lucky. It wasn’t a runner, it was a normal one.
Let him explain, so you know just as if zombies already being there wasn’t god fucking awful, over the years some had started to mutate. On day one you would only see a few runners but they were becoming more common, not to mention that some had started mutating along with their surroundings. Plant ones were the most harmless, all the mutation did was help them blend in but he had Ozzy who noticed them so they were pretty easy to avoid. Plus he knew what spots they were most common in so another way he could avoid them. Then there were the ones who had gotten stuck in water at one point and eventually mutated with it. It’s the reason he rarely goes near lakes and rivers. They usually stay dormant and don’t leave the water unless you’re right by it, he learned that the hard way. They’ve murked up the water so much that you can’t even see it, so if Vance can’t see the bottom of the water there isn’t a way in hell that he’s getting near it. And don’t even get him started on the cave zombies, those are the fucking worst.
So there you have it, some basic rules in the ever-growing manual of how not to die. It makes him wonder if maybe the further it evolves, the less likely that there’ll ever be a cure. That thought makes him stop in his tracks, he can’t imagine living in this hell for the rest of his life. Spending every second trying not to die, never even having an illusion of safety ever again. He stares at the ugly face stumbling towards him, and looks at the face. He always has to check the face, just in case. It’s easy to tell that this one isn’t him, even with half it’s face gone. Seriously, yikes, seems like whoever that used to be met a pretty shitty end. He gently drops Ozzy before going up behind the zombie. He used to gag early on because god fucking damn they smell awful. Not to mention, driving a knife into what used to be a person's skull still gets him sometimes, it was worse back then though. But it seems like this one has been out here for a while judging by the way it looks and smells. It’s clothes are all torn and caked in dirt and blood. He takes a deep breath and tries to stop thinking about it before he grabs it’s shoulder and drives the knife upwards from the nape of the neck. It helped him to not have to look dead at it’s face. As soon as the knife is pulled out, the now still body drops, he lightly kicks it to make sure it’s dead before stepping over it. This time Ozzy just follows along beside him.
They get to the edge of the city and Vance tries to make a mental map of the buildings so he doesn’t waste time or energy just wandering around. Then he thinks of what kind of building. Ideally, a multiple-story building would be best, if he stayed on an upper floor it’s less likely that something would get in. And also something not in the dead center of the city but close enough so he could make supply runs when he needed. Possibly something with a rooftop, maybe he could make a small garden so he could have something more than canned foods; pretty much because sooner or later it’ll cause something with his health because you gotta eat vegetables and all that shit, so a garden isn’t a bad idea. In his mental map, he tries to think of a place with all of those. He goes through it for a minute before a place comes into mind. The department store off of Cornwall Street, it’s about a four or five minute walk from downtown, it’s got 3 stories with an accessible rooftop. So, it’s damn near perfect. But these days nothing is perfect so he’ll scope it out from a distance before going in.
It takes, oh screw it, he doesn’t know how long it takes to get anywhere anymore. All he’s got is his own sense of time and that’s really never been his fucking strong suit. He could tell when it was night or day and that’s about it. Even then, didn’t really take a genius to tell. All he knows is how long it felt like, so maybe thirty minutes or so. There are about four or five stragglers in the street in front of it, which is typically more than enough to deter some people away from the place entirely. Maybe he could figure out a way to get in without killing any of them. Having that extra wall of protection would help, cause like he’s said before, people can be way fucking worse than any zombie ever could. As far as he knew, the zombies weren’t in control of the horrible shit that they do, but human, humans knew what the hell they were doing.
It was before he and Griffin got separated, only a couple months after the start, one time Vance had gone into the city to find some old cases of bottled water. Griffin had stayed back to watch over the camp. Vance had been on his way back when he heard one man screaming and another man yelling about how they needed the food more. Against his better judgment, he went towards the sound. He turned a corner and as soon as he did he watched a man get shot in front of what he assumed were his kids, one who looked about his age and a younger girl. At least they looked like him, they all had brown hair and the same wiry build. He’s not sure now, it was so long ago that he forgets but there is one thing he won’t forget. Vance won’t ever forget the way the man crumpled to the ground and the dead silence that followed. He would’ve expected the kids to scream or do something but they were just quiet, maybe they were in shock, or maybe that wasn’t their dad. He was alive and got shot over what looked like just a couple of cans. He knew shit was scarce but christ. Vance saw the face of the man who shot her, and he didn’t even look phased, almost like he had done this plenty of times before. It had sent a chill down Vance’s spine. He watched from afar as the older boy just threw his bag off and into the cans before grabbing the girl's arm and running. Not even sparing a glance back at the man's body. Though it only took Vance another second to see why he ran so quickly, there was a runner coming down the street, followed by some regular ones. That was his own cue to get the hell out of there, he just took the case of water and ran. He didn’t tell Griffin what he saw, but after that he was pretty careful to stay away from people. He didn't want to be the next one in that position.
Thinking about it makes him wonder whatever happened to them. He wants to believe that they found someplace safe and they’re all good now. After seeing someone get shot right in front of you, that’s grounds for deserving at least some peace. He shakes his head in an effort to clear his mind. He needs to be thinking of how to get in, not about that. So, he watches and tries to find a path through the street to the side door. So, he took it as soon as it arose. He scooped up Ozzy and bolted towards the door. He drops Ozzy down and wiggles the handle on the door for a minute before it pops open. The good thing about the apocalypse and trying to get in buildings is that in the initial panic, no one had time to lock the doors. He shuts the door back and then locks it, satisfied with the small click. He sets his bag down and pulls out his flashlight, he turns it on before he starts moving around. He keeps his free hand hovering over the pocket that has his knife in it. He only takes another step before he just goes ahead and takes it out, better safe than sorry.
Vance carefully weaves in and out of the aisles, thoroughly checking for any signs that anything's been in there. He sees one that's been put down, he makes a note to himself to drag it out later. The floor is streaked with dark red and there are a couple of shelves that look like they’ve been run through; whether it was from the one he already saw or a different one, he didn’t really know. All that thought did was make him grip his knife a little tighter. He finishes going through the aisles and gets to the counter, he doesn’t see anything standing there and walks to the door to get behind it. Just as he’s about to go through it, he hears a noise, like a groan. Quickly backing away from the door, he gets his knife ready. He leans forward and undoes the latch on the door before swinging it out, as soon as it’s open he steps back. At first, there’s nothing, only blood on the back of the door. Then he sees a bloody hand inch its way out, followed by another, and then out pops the face behind the noise. The face of it is pretty intact so it doesn’t take Vance too long to figure out who it is, or was. It was the owner and if Vance was being honest that dude was a major fucking asshole. Always spouting some homophobic, misogynistic, or racist bullshit. Not to mention he was just a fucking creep. And yeah speaking ill of the dead is bad luck or whatever but did Vance look like he cared? Absolutely not. Fuck that guy.
But he figures he can’t just leave that son of a bitch crawling around the floor like that, so he waits till it crawls out a little more before going and putting it down. Afterward, he pulls his knife out, and just like all the others he kicks it to make sure it’s dead. His scope of the place is uneventful after that. He doesn’t find any more in the place and the upper floors are relatively untouched. After figuring the place out, he decides that he’s going to stay up on the top floor, it’s the part that has all the clothes, blankets pillows, basically stuff he could use to make a bed and all that good shit. He sets up camp and makes a small pile of blankets for Ozzy to stay in. But it proves pretty useless, Vance learns that after the first couple nights there that Ozzy doesn’t give a single shit about that and would choose to sleep curled up by Vance’s head. It was gonna be a big adjustment but Vance decides it’s a pretty damn good start.