Word Count: 702
Warnings: zombies, ooc-ness, multi-character death
Rating: T for slight gore and violence
Disclaimer: I don’t own Glee or any of its characters, nor do I have the rights or take any credit for any lyrics, songs or movies mentioned within the story - unless stated.
Finn’s stomach hurt, the pain wasn’t sharp but more of nausea. His brother was gone, within that horde of zombies, ready to consume his warm, still human flesh. If it wasn’t the barrier that Burt and Noah had made to protect him and what’s left of his family they’d be dead right now.
Finn hugged his form thinking of Rachel, Brittany, Artie, Kurt, and even Blaine. Their eyes red, voracious for everything alive and in sight. If only Kurt knew, pre-Elizabeth Hummel, Burt was quite the hunter. He had guns of every size, saying he used to go to places as far as Canada for a good hunt.
If only Finn knew, Canada wasn’t that far at all. He leaned his head on his sweaty palms, Puckerman staring out the window gun in hand. A zombie was meandering around their precious home and he got a good head shot.
The streets are clear, now is the time. He smacked Finn in his face, giving him a hard stare. The tall boy knew what had to be done. He heard his mother cry in protest but ignored it. He had to be the man now, as Burt protected the fort. He went inside the car with Puck and they drove toward the closest gas station.
Siphoning gas into the car quickly, Puck kept watch eyes flicking from side to side. Timorous, and apprehensive, cold sweat rolled down his body. He slowly walked around the car, kneeling at the site of a zombie coming at them, moaning as if in a never ending pain. He shot the zombie in the head, ordering his cohort to speed up the process, getting a complaint in return.
Soon they reached the most dangerous facility of all, the supermarket. Filled with the needed things for their survival they both knew it was a necessary hazard. Finn nodded at his partner and watched as Puck threw a crowbar to the floor. Those seconds, of neurotic almost deranged silence, until they heard what they needed. A moan. One moan, which meant they had killed almost everything inside that needed to die. Finn ran within, bag in hand throwing cans within the sack.
Puck took care of the zombie, a fat man with a snowballs chance of surviving with Puckasaurus around. He took his own sack and filled it with canned fish, meat, some unexpired chips and cake. They actually took pretty long to get rotten if you chose the right stuff.
Puck looked at Finn and gestured his head outside. The tall boy nodded and followed his companion. He was still scared, depressed. He looked up and stayed frozen. Rachel, her hair billowing in the air, her eyes the intelligent brown, her lips full and colored. Her dress, unsullied from the rotten blood of their war. She walked closer, and Finn reached from her.
A shout and the rough force of being thrown into the car shocked the giant into reality. Finn screamed for Rachel but when he looked his heart broke. It was Rachel, but not the Rachel he wanted. The clothing she usually wore was rotten and full of gore. He lips stained the dark brown of old coagulated blood, her eyes were all red, the pupil a nasty pussy yellow. Her flesh was starting to rot of her forehead, her head greasy and clotted with blood. Closer they got to her, until Puck ran her over. Finn merely flinched when her head exploded underneath the pressure of the car’s tires.
When they returned to their abode, Burt congratulated them and Carol had made dinner. Finn couldn’t bring himself to have an appetite. All he could remember was her. Standing their smiling and yet, a monster. He held his pillow to his face letting tears soak into his pillow, quietly sobbing to himself.
Puck didn’t have time to feel pity for his friend. They were at a war. The small family was going to the north, where the undead can’t survive. It was only a matter of time before things became scarce and they would die of starvation and dehydration. Carole was scared, but they were all in fear. Burt had made the final decision. Tomorrow, they leave.