"We're into the last minute as Jameson finds Jacques with a final throw! Let me tell you Philly, this man is called the Lightning for a reason, one of the biggest men in the field but he flies like he's twinkletoes! Look at him! Dodge left, dodge right, duck under the arm of Cray as the Irishman tries to pull him down! Coming up to 10 meters from the try line, he's facing fierce opposition from the Ottawa Harlequins. Jay Johnson, the captain of the Harlequins looks to tackle Jacques right where it hurts! But with a one, two, three step dodge and he scores a try on the last second! Toronto won and moving on to the finals against their rivals. Lemme tell you Philly, that was one of the best tries I've seen in Canadian Union history! Jacques is a coming star in the League-"
Indiscernible sounds awoke Jean, the sun peering from the boarded windows into his wide eyes. He hissed quietly, his vision going white before he slowly opened his eyes again. He moaned, holding his head in pain as a small headache struck against him. Sammy didn't know this but he had been drinking the previous night, once they found this house. He let her go to sleep inside the bedroom while sleeping on the couch that faced away from her current position. They had been staying at this house for the night, having run away from the horror of the previous house, and he had found the drinks cabinet. He drank to his sorrows, grieving by stealing from the cabinet and grabbing a few Molsons. He drank and drank until he fell asleep, not content with just one drink. He wasn't a lightweight but the combination of fatigue, heavy drinking and stress turned into one massive hangover. He bit his lip, preventing himself from making another moan.'Oh how the mighty have fallen...'
Jean thought bitterly, massaging his temples subtly, trying not to alert his friend. The pain slowly but surely subsided, now dulled to an almost unnoticeable numbness that he ignored. He sat up, turning to the side to pick up the baseball bat he had received from Connor. Before they set up in the house, the Aussie left for bed and announced that he was going to go around to scout for more information. During that week in the house, they had listened for any radio contacts and government announcements but beyond that, the group's information on the world was limited. All they knew was that when people got sick with whatever disease this was, they turned into some fucked up zombies. The normal ones, called Screechers and Sprinters, like his deceased teammate's daughter he had encountered a week before.
It hadn't felt like a week for the Ivoirian. He had taken the leadership in their group before, making sure that everyone was receiving the same amount of rations and was doing alright. It was day after day of getting people to cooperate and stay calm but even under him, several members left in the night. One day, one of the former group members, a man by the name of Daryl had ran away with several weeks worth of food and especially water in a truck. This had left them starved, tensions rose amongst group members and the house was threatening to buckle under the weight of the aggression. Flyback Joe's sudden awakening as one of those damn monsters
only sped the process up, the eventual breaking of the house group. Everyone went out of the house in chaos and panic, some taking whatever supplies were left while others just ran away.
Luckily, Jean, Sammy and Connor made it. They didn't have the chance to get any supplies in the mad escape but found this house to sleep on for the night. And the weapon he was currently eyeing on the coffee table. A Bennelli M3 with six ammunition packs of 12 gauge shells. He had found the gun during his drunken haze yesterday and kept it at his side on the table, now glad that he still had the sense not to shoot the gun. He recognised the weapon from his days back in the Ivory Coast, popular with those territorial gangsters and gangbangers in the slums as well as common people for protection. He had never fired an M3 but he roughly knew how to work it, extracting memories of people he used to know who fired the gun in front of him. It was a powerful weapon but Connor seemed to have left it alone when he went to scout.
Jean was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of Sammy speaking, turning his head towards her. He smirked standing slightly, greeting her and slowly walking towards the kitchen to start cooking, bringing a pan and oil out. He took a swig of the bottle of water on the counter, letting out a small sigh before indicating towards the bat and gun. "Well, we've dealt with these fuckers before haven't we? These guys seem to be following zombie movie and show rules, like the Walking Dead. There's probably a protagonist, main lover and everything right now, probably planning to save the world."
He failed to mention the futility of the people in the Walking Dead but he kept with his light tone, bringing out a can of corned beef in the unfortunately emptying pantry."Hey, you think we're the protagonists? Me, the stunning, awesome main character and you, my awesome sidekick?"
He poked back at her, trying to keep the conversation from anything deep. Letting the moment settle into a sort of normality, he let himself relax to the sound of sizzling oil and beef. However, the moment was broken with a crash from one of the back rooms and the sounds of a screecher filled the house. Coming from a door nearer to the kitchen countertop, the monster lunged at Jean, growling and shouting with fierce determination. The monster had seemingly come out of nowhere and looked slightly familiar to the Ivoirian but before he could dwell on this, the thing pounced on him and tried to pin him on the table.
The rugby player's eyes widened in surprise, gasping as he pushed against the massive mass of muscle. "Connor?! What the fuck?!?!"
He struggled against the former Aussie, trembling against the bigger zombie. He tried to look for a weapon but had to keep his eyes on the monster in front of him, shoving him away and grappling him. He took a moment to glance towards Sammy before being pinned successfully on the counter, Connor's jaws opening wider than they should."SAMMY!"
Jean fought against the former human but was slowly losing. Either from the fatigue or the mild headache, his strength seemed to have been sapped from him. Staring at the hungry, open mouth of his former friend, he could think of only one word. Fuck