[center][b]Grace and Aldous Gallagher[/b]
[b][u]Gas Station Just Outside of Atlanta[/u][/b][/center]

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"This can't be happening," Grace had repeated the phrase multiple times over the last few hours. It was well over three days for the shock to settle out of her system, but that didn't seem to stop the girl from phasing in and out of reality, even for a moment. Glossy eyed and looking more than ready to puke, Grace had bent herself over the counter, dust clinging to the maroon coat tugged over her white, graphic t-shirt.

After a moment of rummaging through the back of the gas station, Aldous stepped through the ajar door with two bottles of water in his hand, having already packed a few more into the back pack slung over his shoulder. "Stay hydrated," he said, to which Grace scoffed in protest before she downed the entire bottle in one gulp, "Or just don't save any for later, that's fine too." His smile was forced, but he somehow kept it gentle as he looked her over. "There's a trash can over there if ya' need to upchuck."

As if on cue, mid dismissive wave, Grace lurched forward before taking the hint and rushing to the bucket to release whatever her stomach held the night before. There were tears stinging her eyes by the time the rumbling settled down and her complexion darkened compared to her slight pallor seconds before. Wiping her chin, she looked over at Aldous with a frown and shook her head before he could utter a word through his agape mouth. He merely smiled and flung the backpack over his other shoulder, nodding to the door. The gas station was ransacked, but he'd somehow found a few bottles of water probably dropped and left behind. They might not be able to restock on food, but water seemed the more important thing for the moment. That and traveling light; they already had a few cans of beans and maybe a granola bar or two—he'd have to recount their supplies whenever they'd found some kind of respite that didn't come in the form of rushed searching in some rundown gas station just off the highway. He'd hoped to find some gas for his sister's tiny Hyundai just as a precaution—little over half a tank was fine until it wasn't—but had found the place practically empty of everything aside from the astray bottles of water.

This wasn't exactly a situation he wanted to come to down the road, but circumstances didn't necessarily allow for things to pan out as smoothly as Aldous' had planned. Grace seemed optimistic, though, and insisted there'd be another station down the road, as if she hadn't lived in the city for as long as she had. Aldous took these roads plenty of times and the only thing down this road was Emory and a few exits for rest stops and diners and maybe a hotel or two. Even then, most of the gas stations and any store that held food would most likely be completely abandoned and out of stock with the town evacuated. People scared for their lives fought tooth and nail for survival, which meant no stone wasn't turned over and no food was left behind. Same went for gas, what with these streets having been cluttered to the middle of downtown, raging with panic, not three days ago.

The thought of it all brought a grimace to Aldous' features as he shoved his backpack in the back of the Hyundai and pressed the button to turn it on. The scowl turned more away from his thoughts and to the atrocity that was this pink... thing he was forced to drive. If his sister was anything, she definitely wasn't as girly as this, not that he'd mind tapping into his feminine side, but a pink car pushed that limit too far. It was mainly that pink was kind of an atrocious color for a car. He'd reprimanded her the day she arrived, so Grace certainly didn't need to hear more of his snark filled comments. Not to mention she had enough ammunition to insult that junker of a Camry he called a car and wondering just how the hell he'd gotten to Atlanta from San Francisco in that thing. Honestly, he didn't know, and he was definitely glad she rejected his insistence that they take that instead of the Hyundai. He had to put up some kind of fight for his property, even if he loathed the thing's existence from here to Sunday.

A few days ago they'd decided to hole up like the government had told them to: stay in doors, gather your supplies, and wait out the storm. However, come the second day, the whole wait out the storm thing didn't seem like it was working. They'd been plunged into complete darkness and it was more than a frightening thought just how far up there were in their parent's spacious apartment. They were by no means a rich family, but years of hard work gave them a more than comfortable retirement and it showed. However, the spacious housing, filled to the brim with antiques and heirlooms boarding on Anasazi tribal masks to Renaissance paintings felt more like confinement than it did home the longer the hours went by. The walls, he'd remembered, a dark tan in the dimming light leaked profusely of guilt and memories, shouting and crying. There was too much bad stuffed into one home for him to think properly and went all his ties were cut to the place, he packed up and left without ever looking back. Kind of felt like an asshole move, but Aldous couldn't bring himself to feel guilty over something that happened over a decade ago.

The highway then, to his relief, was only partially cluttered every few miles with abandoned cars and moaning creatures, leaving long stretches filled with nothing but blacktop pavement. It was refreshing, though his sister didn't seem to think so. Grace sat squirming in her seat, paying most of her attention to the hands that fidgeted in her lap. She looked mortified to even stare out at the scenery blurring by in the window. Of course, in moments like these, Aldous refrained from even huffing out a breath; these moments hung so precariously over what he determined as Grace 'freak out zone' and if he said one little thing wrong, she'd go into some catatonic state. It was best if he left her to her musings, no matter how much it pained him to see her so out of control, so unlike herself.

Emory, from Atlanta, wasn't that long of a drive, though rush hour and general traffic usually lengthened the time it took to get there. With an empty stretch of road, it made that trip a whole lot shorter, even with the few roundabout ways they had to get there—some of those things had piled onto the highway for who knew how long and Aldous didn't necessarily fell the need to subject his sister and his sister's car to a pile of blood, guts, and pale skin. When they arrived, he shuffled out after parking somewhere in the grass, noticing the car didn't quite have enough gas to be useful for more than a thirty minute drive.

"Hey," he leaned over the hood of the car to watch his sister straighten her leggings and adjust her purse (more of a satchel, really, but she'd be more inclined to smack him over the head with it if he'd said that), "You feeling okay?"

Grace glanced over, her eyes finding Aldous' green ones, only to falter and stare anywhere but him as she spoke, "Yeah, I guess. I'll be better once we find other people."

"Sick of me already?" he said, amusement playing on his lips.

"You know how loud you snore? And you smell like dirt and... and man. It's not alluring, you know. Don't be expecting to pick up the ladies with that stench."

Aldous rolled his eyes at the comment, "Well good, cause after spending time with your hour long morning rituals and craving for nasty fast food over MY cooking, I'd rather attract a man. At least they'd learn to appreciate my cinnamon buns. Double entendre intended."

"Oh, I'm sure you wouldn't mind being the little spoon for a change, dearest Aldie."

"Hey, man or woman, I've got legal documents concerning any and all spooning exchanges, regardless of gender" Aldous huffed, puffing out his chest as he slung the back pack over his shoulder and made for the entry way to the building Emory's cafeteria was supposedly held in, "Plus, have you seen my biceps? These arms have comforted many a manly man under the covers, and rightly so. If I remember correctly, I'd brought home a nice, hulking, bear of a rugged man who smelled distinctly of pine and lumberjack and oozed masculinity and he purred every time he'd nuzzle so comfortably under my chin and in my loving embrace. After of course a rocking amount wild, on the wall, over the couch, in a public bathroom—"

"That's more information than I wanted to know. I hereby resign my testimony and drop any charges of you being a man's little spoon, as long as you don't talk, in detail, about how you rocked a lumberjack's world," Grace could only roll her eyes as she gave an exasperated sigh, but she smiled all the same.

Aldous let out a low hum of a purr, rolling a deep R in his throat, "Oh, baby, talk legalese to me."

"I swear—"

"I bet that's how you get your fiance off, huh? All you two do is mull over paperwork and case files while speaking of jurors and clients and whispering sweet technical jargon into each other's bluetooths," his words fell short as he trailed off into a hushed whisper. They'd not talked of her fiance since she'd had a literal mental freak out the moment the TV flickered on with news of this pandemic hitting America like a nuke. Aldous eyes flickered over to his sister, having noticed her stop just before they entered the building. He could hear the shuffles and the moans coming from one of the boarded up windows to their left, but it wasn't dire enough to warrant his attention. He opened his mouth to speak but found no words for a few moments as she simply stared down at her maroon flats, as if they held all of the answers to her problems.

"I'm sorry, I didn't—it wasn't..." he began, reaching back to rub his neck, eyes catching one of the hedges in need of a good trim.

"It's fine," she body checked him as she pushed the door open and spilled into the hall with quiet, puttering steps.

"Ah shit, I swear," Aldous cursed, quickly following her. He kept his eyes on the locked doors to his right, still hearing the shuffling of feet and soft thuds of bodies against the furniture inside, could make out the squeaking of chairs even. It unnerved him that she'd just waltzed past all of these creatures without so much as a second glance and it only caused him to pick up his pace to catch her. Grabbing her arm, he stopped her mid stride, speaking in hushed tones, "Hey, hey, don't be in such a rush, Gray. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring it up again, but you can't go off like that. I need you to stay as close by me as possible, okay? You left your bat on the steps, by the way." He'd grabbed it as quickly as he could before she stormed off, barely catching it before it hit the ground. He'd kept his own weapons secure, the Bowie knife secured in a sheath crudely tied to his belt and the hammer in his backpack, just in case.

The look she gave him was blank, expressionless and not so full of the life she usually carried. But he didn't say anything, simply gave her a weak grin as she took the bat wordlessly and continued moving. They only stopped, barely even a few feet from where they started, when the groaning grew louder, followed quickly by the sound of horns in the distance, and then it grew unbearable. The doors rattled and few bodies fell through already open ones. Aldous didn't wait to react to the hand that grabbed at his shoulder, slamming an elbow into the body that shuffled closer, hand already gripping the knife tight. He swiveled on his feet to plunge the knife deep into the thing's skull, pushing it into what looked to be a group trying to squeeze their way past the door beside him. Grace was already at his side, hand pressing tight on the edge of the opened door as he gave one hard shove and jumped back, only relaxing slightly when he heard the lock click.

They flew by, Grace only having to bat away groping hands once before they were running down a maze of halls. They stopped short at the end of one, having miraculously followed all the signs that would lead them to the cafeteria, to find an only semi-empty hallway. Aldous gave a breath of relief, only to tighten his grip on the bloodied knife in his hand. People meant respite, but for how long? Grace didn't seem to follow in his worry, having already made a move to alert the people of their presence.

"Hey!" she cried out in what could have possibly been the worst stage whisper she'd every attempted, but at least it wouldn't call unwanted attention to them. Not that their pattering footsteps didn't already do that. The moans and cries echoed through the halls, but they didn't seem quite too coordinated or anywhere near where they currently were. "We got the message on the radio. We've only come for refuge and help; we mean no harm."

"Oh, by all means, Gracie, sweetheart," Aldous groaned, "Ask 'em to take us to their leader."

"Fuck you, Aldous," she flung a glare his way as she approached the two people, hoping they were friendly. She made no move, seeming to drop her guard completely, a great contrast to Aldous stiff stance and white-knuckle grip on his knife. "Sorry, he can be a bit of an ass," she gave them a smile, "I'm assuming this is where we were supposed to meet up? The door's blocked, though, isn't it?" She gave a sigh and a face that said, 'Of course the door's barricaded.'
 
"No shit," Aldous threw, to which he earned yet another over the shoulder glare.

"What the hell are you doing all the way over there?" Grace held up a hand and shook her head as if she were talking to an idiot.

"Keepin' watch," he gave her the same attitude she'd given him and she simply rolled her eyes and crossed her arms before turning back to the pair at the door. This was turning out to be a longer day than either of them wanted.