The Walking Dead: Warlord

I look around the room, seeing a collection of mattresses, bean bags, and blankets. There’s also a bunch of fairy lights all around plugged into solar chargers placed in the windowsills. Painted on the brick wall in bright red paint is a giant sign reading “CASTLE V”. The room seems to have been a studio apartment.

Immediately, Vanessa starts to strip off the riot gear while speaking to me,

“I lived here before everything went to shit. When people were running away, I decided to stay put and barricaded my door.”

I nod my head,

“Pretty cool place.”

She chuckles,

“Heh, I know right? Anyway, why were you firing off a gun in the middle of Atlanta? I mean, even the birds know to keep their beaks shut around here now.”

I shake my head,

“I was being shot at. Some people up on rooftops were firing at me.”

She looks shocked and say,

“Oh jeez, did they hit you anywhere?”

I shake my head,

“Nah. They were pretty terrible shots, honestly.”

She snorts inadvertently, which kinda confused me, but she says,

“Sorry, I’m weak to sarcasm. So, why exactly are you here alone, anyways? Don’t most people tend to, I dunno, group up?”

I shake my head,

“Nah. I was with a small group. We got separated when I led a horde away from them. When I was trying to get away, I got shot at and forced further away from them. What about you? Why’re you living in castle V alone?”

She sighs,

“Well, for one, I’m pretty introverted. I didn’t really have any friends to group with, and my family live up in North Carolina, so there’s no way I’ll be able to see them again. And two, all the people I’ve met have been corpses. Probably thanks to those people that shot at you.”

I look at her curiously,

“If that’s the case, you should’ve heard the shots. I mean, you heard them shooting at me.”

She shakes her head,

“No, I found them further out. This is the first time something like this has happened.”

Vanessa, fully stripped of her armor, dons a black Nirvana t-shirt with a pair of low-waisted grey jeans. Veeeeery 2000’s… on her feet are a pair of converse. The girl stands about a full head shorter than me, so around 5’2”. She turns her back to me and walks over to a mini-fridge in the corner. She opens it up, showing me the pictures stuck to the front with various band magnets. One is a picture of a man playing a guitar in an underground concert, another is of a group of teens holding bottles of beer at said concert, with a younger Vanessa in the middle, also holding a beer. The last is of Vanessa, topless, taking a shot while sitting on the lap of another girl. I speak to her in a joking tone,

“You’re a bit of a party girl, huh?”

She scoffs and shakes her head,

“No. Just with my close friends. I hate big parties. Concerts are a different matter, though. Everyone there is just as excited as you are to hear this band play. Everyone is united under one banner. Republican, democrat, gay, straight, black, white, none of that shit mattered there. It was honestly pretty goddamn magical. Anyways, sorry for rambling, want a drink?”

I nod my head, pretty good description. Those underground concerts probably especially feel that way. I start taking off my own armor and say,

“Watcha got?”

She looks through,

“Beer, soda, even got a couple apple juice boxes. I’ve got some bourbon sitting out too.”

Y’know, I’ve never actually drank before. Shocking, I know. What kind of college student doesn’t drink underage, right? Well, this one. I scratch the back of my head while responding,

“Gimme some bourbon. I’ve never actually drank alcohol before.”

Vanessa’s mouth is wide in shock. She looks at me in confusion,

“Seriously? How old are you?”

I nod my head,

“Seriously. I’m 19.”

She leans forward with her head between her hands. As I look over, I find the biggest fault in low-rise pants. I see her ass. She sighs and says,

“Alright. I’m getting you drunk today! You won’t have many opportunities now that the world’s ended, so may as well try it out!”

She shuts the fridge and walks into the other side of the room, clearly a living room kitchen combo. It’s then that I notice something, there are… lights on in the kitchen. Like ceiling lights. I look up at the light in confusion and say,

“Uh, how do you have power?”

She says,

“Ah! The landlord had a set of emergency generators put into the basement, as well as some big ass batteries or something. They take regular gas, too, so I’ve basically got power till the last car in Atlanta is empty. Separate water system, too.”

She walks over to her sink and turns the nozzle,

“But the water is limited, because we don’t exactly have a sewage cleaning station around here. There’s a giant water tank up top that has rain catchers on it. The water comes from that. Dude was a bit of a doomsday prepper.”

I shake my head in confusion,

“Then, where is he?”

She sighs as she reaches up to a cabinet, pulling out a bottle of bourbon,

“He died a year ago. You can prep for anything but a car crash, it seems. His son kept the place running, but he left Atlanta during the outbreak. Enough depressing shit, let’s get drunk!”

She places the bottle down on the counter before pulling two shot glasses out of the sink. 

“First things first, trying it raw!”

I ignore the obvious that’s what she said joke, she speaks in a warning tone,

“I will have to give you a warning ahead of time… I… am a stripping drunk. So don’t be surprised if we wake up in the middle of the night and I’m butt naked. It happens every time.”

I chuckle at the seriousness of her tone and say,

“Well, I don’t mind. Sounds like fun! I have no clue what kinda drunk I am, so this’ll be a surprise!”

She nods her head and pours the two glasses halfway full,

“Half shots for now to get you used to it. Don’t want you throwing up too quickly!”

I come over to the counter with her and take the glass in my hand. I don’t know why, but I feel safe around her. I know this is probably an incredibly stupid decision, but hey, gotta have fun sometimes, right? At the very least, I’ll be safe from walkers. I need to unwind anyways.

She holds out her hand with the glass, waiting for a toast.

*clink*

I meet her glass, which she slaps on the table and then downs in an instant. I follow suit. I hit the table with the glass, with less force than her, and then put the glass up to my lips. The smell of oak and alcohol hits my nostrils as the warm liquid begins to burn my tongue and throat. It creates a path of warmth all the way down my throat, warming up my chest. Vanessa looks at me with a smirk before saying,

“So?”

I smirk back,

“I like it!”

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