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Harry doesn't remember going to sleep. He surely doesn't remember going to sleep in a hospital bed. He wouldn't have been so freaked out if the flowers next to his bed were alive and blooming, the lights were on and working, and the windows and floors were clean. But Harry realized it was the complete opposite, and that's what freaked him out the most. The flowers were in fact, not alive, but dead and crispy and scattered all over the floor. The windows were broken, as though someone had thrown something to break them from the ground outside. The ceiling florescent lights were broken with wires hanging from them just inches away from Harry's face. He turned his head and the room swam, the picture of Jesus Christ and children swirling against the grimy walls. He sat up slowly and tried to remember when this room got so filthy, or when and why he was ever brought here in the first place. His thigh was wrapped with white gauze and there was a circle of blood threatening to seep through it. He wondered how it got there. It only hurt him when he tried to stand, and he collapsed to the floor. He struggled to breathe as he ripped the IV from his hand, since it wasn't pumping anything into him anymore. It probably hadn't been for a while, he thought. And with that, he wondered how long it had been since anyone besides him had even been in this room. He wondered where his mom was, and his sister. He wondered if they were okay. He cursed to himself as he stood to his feet, his leg throbbing with pain. His stomach growled and he pressed his hand to the concave space between his ribs. He tried to remember the last time he had eaten. With thoughts of hunger in his head making him realize he was dying of thirst, he limped across the rubbish covering the floor and into the bathroom. He turned the knobs on the sink, only receiving small drips of water. That was okay with him. He bent down, sticking his tongue under it, and the cool water was like heaven. After about ten minutes of that, he straightened, mindlessly turning the knobs back in place. A breeze stirred through the broken window, cooling Harry's sweaty face. It was only then when he noticed a reflection in the dirty bathroom mirror once its hair was blown by the wind. His long hair. He never remembered his hair ever becoming this long. Along with that, the reflection had facial hair and chest hair, being slightly covered by a hospital gown. Since when do fifteen-year-olds become this hairy? He frowned and stared at a hollow face that he was sure it wasn't his own. It was too.. old.. to be him. Harry took a step back from the mirror and stared at the reflection. He was mesmerized and confused. He slid his hands over the muscles in his body, and so did the reflection. The reflection was his. He stared at himself, at his muscular arms, and strong chest. He never remembers becoming this big. He traced the stubble, well, beard, forming on his chin with his index finger, frowning slightly at it. It was scraggly, like it hadn't been trimmed in months. How old was he? Had it been months since he was awake?A sharp pain in his leg jolted him out of his thoughts. He gripped it with his hand, and one thought was flashing in his mind, like a brightly lit up sign with one thousand arrows pointing to it.
Get out of here.
Harry quickly limped out of the bathroom, his bare feet dragging along some trash as he struggled to open the door of his room. Once he pried it open, he contemplated following through with his thoughts. The empty, black hallway in front of him made him want to close the door and crawl in a corner until someone rescued him. He was only fifteen after all.. Wasn't he? He shoved his desires in the back of his mind, and his sister's voice replaced the thoughts. "Stop being a chicken," she whispered. Harry knew it was only in his head.
Gemma.
Where was she? Where was his mom? He had to find them. He pushed the pile of junk away from the door and stepped out the best he can without falling over his wounded leg. He gripped onto it again, blood running between his fingers. He avoided looking down.Once he was in the hallway, he was even more terrified than he was before. The hall was dark. One single light flickered at the end of it. He swallowed thickly as he tried to remember how to get out of the hospital. Even though it looked nothing like it had before, he started walking. Overturned hospital beds scattered the hallway, some stained with blood, others stripped from their sheets. Other than the buzz from the flickering light, it was completely silent. That was until he pushed open the door with the exit sign glowing above it.Screams and groans filled his ears. He had no clue where it was coming from, but all Harry could think to do was run.He half limped half ran down three flights of dark stairs, tripping slightly on most of them. Once he got to the bottom, he pushed open the door with no hesitation, only to be blinded by a very bright light high above him. He squinted against it, holding his hand up to protect himself from it. It took him a good thirty seconds to realize that the light was the sun. He wondered how long it had been since he went outside. His skin did look awfully pale in the mirror, he remembered. He wiped his eyes and opened them slowly, only to see the most horrific thing he had ever seen in his life. He clutched his stomach, and suddenly he wasn't hungry anymore. Bodies. Dead bodies.Thousands of them. His mouth hung open slightly in fear, shock, and disgust, and he covered it with his bloody hand. He limped down the concrete stairs until he was on the ground. The smell overwhelmed him. He gagged slightly as he stumbled around, never taking his eyes away from the dead bodies. He noticed that they all had blood in the same spot.
Their mouths.
"Oh my god," he whispered, his entire body trembling as he limped. He had to get out of there. He started running. Sprinting. His leg hurt terribly, but he had to ignore it if he ever wanted to get home.
Home.
The thought of it made tears well up in his eyes. He couldn't see, but he continued to run anyway. So fast. Not aware of any of his surroundings. He knew he couldn't run all the way home, since his house was a thirty minute drive from the hospital. He knew it would take at least an hour to walk there. He ran toward home anyway.He didn't know how long he had been running, but a loud voice made him stop abruptly. "If you take one more step I'll kill you!" A deep voice yelled at him. Harry froze.He tried to control his breathing, sweat trickling down his face from the hot sun baring down on him. He held his hands up by his sides in surrender, swallowing thickly. "Turn around!" the same voice yelled. He slowly turned around to face the voice, and he saw an older man, tan skinned, tall, muscular, black haired and blue eyed, pointing a gun right at his forehead. His heart pounded in his ears, his chest heaving, longing for breath. His mouth hung open in exhaustion. "What's your name?" the man said clearly. When Harry didn't answer, he cocked the gun and pressed it to his forehead. "I swear to God, I'll kill you." he spat. Harry closed his eyes tightly, pressing his lips together."Why do you have blood on your mouth?" He asked, digging the point of the gun into Harry's forehead. Harry stayed silent, too terrified to speak. "Answer me!" Harry slowly pointed down to his leg at the bleeding wound. "Please don't hurt me," he whispered, his voice shaky.The man's eyes glanced back and fourth from Harry's eyes to his leg. He looked like he was concentrating on something other than Harry himself. The man nodded his head, his eyes looking just past Harry; he didn't dare look though.He closed his eyes tightly, and the sound and force of something metal whamming against the back of his head knocked him out cold.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
"Is he awake?"
"I dunno. He's moving around and whining a lot. I just got in here a few minutes ago for watch."
"How long's he been out?"
"I dunno. A coupla days I think."
"He looks bad. Is that a bite?"
"No. Zayn said it was a stabbing wound. He's been cleaning it for him."
"Wonder how old he is."
"Dunno."
The lamp above Harry blurred his vision, his eyes going fuzzy for longer than they probably should have. His skin stuck to the sheets of the bed he was laying on, and his damp hair stuck to his forehead. He was sweating profusely. He didn't know why; there was a fan blowing toward him that sat in the corner of the room, and he figured that it was his only savior from a heat stroke. His eyes pried open slowly, crust filling the corners. He couldn't see. He needed to wipe his eyes, but something was stopping him from moving his arms. He tipped his head back, examining his hands that were bound to the bed posts with a thick layer of duct tape. His breath was heavy; he really needed to wipe his eyes.
"He's awake!" A deep, raspy voice yelled that made Harry jump. It reminded him of the voice of the dark haired man that held the gun to his head, but it was a higher pitch. He clenched his eyes shut and opened them again, getting no relief. He still couldn't see.
"I can't see." Harry tried to say, but his voice was drier than a desert. He was dying of thirst.
"Don't talk until Zayn gets in here," the voice said sharply. It sounded closer to Harry now.
Harry heard footsteps approaching, more than one pair, and he squinted, his brows furrowing as he made out three figures that were now in the small room he was in. Two men, one woman. One figure stepped closer to him, and if he didn't have the light hanging above him, Harry would've never recognized him to be the same man from before. Only this time, his hands were empty. He had no gun to point at Harry's head. The man crouched down beside the bed, so he was closer to eye level with Harry.
"Will you get me a rag with some water on it please, Kendall?" the man said. His voice was a lot calmer than Harry remembered it being. The figure was back in the room within seconds. The two men exchanged something, then his eyes were covered with the cloth. Harry sighed with relief as the man wiped the cloth gently on his eyes. When the cloth was pulled away, his vision was clear again.
He was in a room with wooden walls that indicated that they were unfinished. A light hung above him, its brightness blinding Harry once again, but only for a few moments. Soon enough, his vision focused.
A man, no, boy, stood in front of him. He was in a dark t-shirt with a small hole in the bottom, ripped jeans that looked as though they were made that way, and a large pair of working boots. He was masculine, looked to be about sixteen or seventeen. His dark brown, almost black hair fell just above his eyebrows, and he looked like he hadn't slept in days. He was accompanied by a woman of similar height, only she had light brown hair and blue eyes. She was dressed in a slightly dirty white tank top, camouflage jeans, and tennis shoes. Her face was young, but she also looked deprived from sleep, which made her look a lot older than she probably was. Harry thought she looked to be about twenty-one. His eyes then found the familiar face, the one who had had the gun to his head, crouching beside of him. The man's black hair was pushed out of his blue eyes, and it was sitting atop his head perfectly. He had long eyelashes and full lips, and a lot more facial hair than Harry had. He was dressed in a white sweaty t-shirt, and from where Harry was laying, he couldn't see the pants he had on. They were all quite beautiful, Harry thought.
The man beside of Harry brought him from his daze when he spoke. "What's your name?" he asked. Harry looked over to him, swallowing thickly.
"Harry," he attempted, but it came out as basically nothing. His voice was dry and hoarse. The man next to him motioned to the other boy, and he bent down, grabbing a bottle of water. Harry could feel himself drooling for it. The man opened it and tipped it into Harry's mouth slowly.
He closed his eyes as the water flowed into his throat and down to his stomach. His body was cooled down at least thirty degrees, or at least that's what it felt like. Once the man lifted the bottle from Harry's lips, he was panting slightly, already wanting more water. "Thank you," he whispered softly.
The man nodded once, closing the bottle and sitting it on the floor. "Now, answer my question."
Harry, let out a long breath. "My name is Harry Styles." He said aloud, and it surprised him, because he never remembered his voice becoming as deep as it sounded. He swallowed thickly again as six pairs of blue eyes studied him, like he was some sort of scientific experiment. "What?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.
"How did you get stabbed, Harry?" The man asked, his long fingers rising up to scratch the hair on his face. Harry frowned.
"I got stabbed?" He looked down to his leg, which was now wrapped in clean gauze. He wondered how it got that way, because all he remembered was blood. So much blood spilling from his leg as he ran. Once Harry looked at himself, he realized he was dressed in a black t-shirt and maroon colored boxers, which was not what he left the hospital wearing. He opened his mouth to ask how he had magically changed clothes when he heard the man's voice again.
"What do you mean, 'I got stabbed'? Of course you got stabbed. Isn't that why you were in the hospital?"
Harry's head was swimming. He honestly tried to remember how he had gotten there, but the last thing he could remember was turning fifteen, rolling his eyes at his mum who had bought him a cake even though he insisted she shouldn't. He missed home.
Harry frowned as the memory soared through his brain. He shook his head slowly, looking the man in his eyes again. "I.. I don't know. I don't remember."
The man frowned, staying silent for a few minutes. So did Harry.
"How old are you?" He asked, his brows furrowing only slightly.
"Fifteen.. I mean, I think I'm fifteen. That's the last birthday I remember," Harry whispered, and the older man shook his head.
"There's no way he's fifteen. He has a fucking beard." The younger boy said. Harry let his eyes flicker over to the younger boy's, and he shrugged. "You look a few years older than fifteen, that's all," He said to Harry.
Harry chewed on the inside of his lip. He had so many questions that he needed to be answered. Where was he now? Who were these people? Why was he tied up? Why did he get stabbed? Where was his family? Why were there dead bodies all over the ground when he left the hospital? Why did they have blood all over their mouths? Why was there no one, literally no one, in the hospital with him? How old was he? How long had he been in the hospital?
So, so, so many questions he needed to ask, but the man beside of him felt that his questions were more important than Harry's, and Harry was sure they were. He was just so unsure about his surroundings.
"What year do you think it is?" The man asked. The eyes of the other two became intrigued within seconds of the question. Harry swallowed thickly again.
He looked down at his stomach as he concentrated, trying to remember up until the day he was put in the hospital. He had no luck.
"I.. I don't know. I turned fifteen in February of 2033.. Is it 2033?" Harry asked hopefully. All three of them exchanged uneasy looks, which ended up making Harry uneasy.
"What? What is it..?" Harry asked anxiously. When he didn't get an answer, he balled his hands into fists. "Tell me."
The man finally looked back into Harry's eyes, his expression being one Harry couldn't read all too well.
"Harry. It's August. 2037."
-
Harry sat cross legged on the bed, chewing on the inside of his cheek with his hands in his lap. He frowned slightly at Zayn, the man who had pointed the gun at him a few days prior. "So, explain it one more time, just so I know I'm understanding what you're saying," Harry whispered.
Kendall, Mandy, and Zayn sat across from him on the floor, in the same small room he had woken up in last night. Zayn sighed.
When Zayn didn't reply, Harry started for himself. "So, the government made a vaccination for cancer..? And it backfired." Harry spoke slowly, and Zayn nodded.
"The vaccination turned everyone who got even the smallest dose into maniacs. But it took a while for it to happen. It took a few years, actually." Zayn said, keeping his eyes in his lap for some reason.
"And... You guys didn't get the vaccination?" Harry asked, earning three soft 'no's in response. Harry nodded. "And, it turns the people.. into..?"
"Basically zombies." Kendall said, biting down on his lip gently. They were all tense talking about the subject.
Harry shook his head gently. "Zombies aren't real." Harry whispered. The thought of the word zombie made his stomach churn.
Mandy laughed slightly, finally looking up at Harry. "They are now." It was the first time Harry had ever heard her speak.
He stayed quiet for another second. "And they can.. bite people, and the bite.." Harry trailed off, becoming silent.
"The bite can turn people into a maniac." Zayn said, looking up at Harry.
Harry was speechless. He had just been told that he was nineteen years old and in the midst of a zombie apocalypse. He stayed silent for a few minutes. Longer than he should have, probably.
His brain was fuzzy, his head was spinning, his leg was hurting. And all he wanted to do was go home.
-
"Up you go," Zayn said, lifting Harry up from the bed. He couldn't walk. His leg hurt more and more by the hour. He was thankful that Kendall had actually gotten Zayn when he asked him to. Harry felt like Kendall had something against him, but that was another story.
"Ow," Harry groaned, and Zayn gripped onto him tighter.
"You're okay. We're just going for a little walk," Zayn said softly. He was thankful for Zayn. He had basically been babying Harry for the past two days, knowing he couldn't even get around on his own. He wondered why he was being so nice to him, of course, but he wasn't going to complain. Harry wrapped his arm around Zayn's shoulder while Zayn's arm stayed wrapped around Harry's waist.
He helped Harry limp to the front door, basically carrying him the entire way there. It reminded him of the time in fourth grade when he was at his best friend Louis Tomlinson's house and they were swinging on the swing set.
"I bet I can go higher than you."
"I bet you can't!"
"Watch me!"
"Harry.. okay Harry I believe you. Don't go so high, Harry. Harry stop, you're going to get hurt!"
"Oh god!"
"Harry!"
"My leg.. I.. Ow, I think it's broken!"
"Come on! We need to get you inside. It's okay Harry. We'll call mum and get you a cast and it'll all be okay. You won't even hurt by tomorrow."
"Harry." Zayn said sharply, snapping Harry from his thoughts. His eyes widened slightly. It was only then when he realized they were outside. The building they had been staying in was a lot bigger than Harry had imagined, since he had only seen one room since he had woken up and couple of days ago. There were boarded up windows covering the whole building, and one set of steel doors from which they had just walked out. The ground around them was pure dirt, no grass whatsoever, and the entire area was surrounded by a chain linked fence with barbed wire around the top. A surge of safeness blew over him.
"Oh. Uh, what?" Harry asked, his mind still encompassed in his memory. He wondered where Louis Tomlinson was now.
"I just asked if you were alright." Zayn said simply, keeping his eyes forward as Harry limped onward. Harry nodded.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry said softly, a warm breeze blowing through his hair.
The sun beamed down upon them, and a bead of sweat was already rolling down his neck. He was okay with it though, just as long as he could walk around the building a couple of times, because his legs were killing him. They stayed silent for a few minutes before Harry finally spoke.
"Hey Zayn.." Harry said, turning his head slightly to look at Zayn. He raised his eyebrows.
"What's up." Zayn said, keeping his eyes forward like usual. He was a soft spoken lad, Harry believed. He sighed in content at the thought.
"I uh.. I was just wondering.. why me?" Harry asked softly, shifting his eyes to the ground. "I mean, you must've seen other people out there besides me. Why did you decide to help me as much as you are?"
Zayn frowned at that, but stayed silent, like he was thinking. "I'm very grateful for you." Harry said quietly, absentmindedly squeezing Zayn's shoulder as he limped. Zayn lightly squeezed his side in response.
"I dunno Harry. Really. Mandy and Kendall are questioning me as well. Saying you may be a threat to us.." Zayn stopped walking to let go of Harry. He looked into his eyes. "But I see no threat in you Harry. Quite the opposite. Once you're all healed up, you can be a strong asset for us." He said, giving Harry the slightest smile. Harry returned it.
"Thanks Zayn. For everything, really. I'm trying to get better." Zayn nodded, wrapping his arm around Harry again. They continued walking, well, Harry limping and Zayn basically carrying Harry, and when it was getting dark, that was then when Zayn promised Harry that he would protect him until he didn't need protection anymore.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Harry's tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth like a fly on flypaper. He worked it free and parted his dry lips, sucking in a deep breath as he took in his surroundings; he was in the same damn room he'd been in for the past three days. Only this time when he woke up, the room was empty other than himself and the sounds of his breath filling his ears. Pain pulsed through his head in time with his thumping heartbeat. He brought shaky fingers up to his temples and the pain intensified, making him cringe. He sat up slowly, pain surging through his entire body. He swung his legs over the side of his mattress and stood up, clutching his freshly healed thigh in his hand. He walked tiredly and slowly through a hallway toward the voices he heard. He kept his shaking hand pressed against the wall to guide him, and soon enough, he found himself in a large room with boxes stacked five high littering the floor. Zayn and Kendall were sat in the middle of the floor, both eating something out of cans with plastic spoons. They both seemed to be deep in conversation, until Zayn started laughing, and it made Harry's stomach churn.The way Zayn's eyes crinkled up around the corners was something he had become very familiar with, something that he knew he had seen close to every day, he just didn't know when he had seen that exact face before. His heart thudded in his chest."Harry?"It had taken him two minutes, maybe three, to realize that Zayn was standing in front of him with a frown on his face. He jumped slightly at his voice."Oh, uh, hey," He stuttered, brushing his sweaty, damp hair from his eyes. "You're up," Zayn stated with a slight twinge in his lips. "How are you feeling?"Harry leaned into Zayn's touch lazily when he pressed a cold hand to his forehead. "Truth or lie?""I'm gonna assume the lie is the better one, so, lie." He hummed, casually pushing Harry's hair back farther from his eyes."I feel fabulous," Harry said, a small smile playing at his lips. Zayn chuckled at that."You seem to be making a speedy recovery. It's just that bloody fever," Zayn said. His eyes examined Harry's face, slowly, and it reminded him of when he woke up in that small room for the first time when he had gotten all of those looks from the three of them. Harry nodded."Well, look. Get yourself some food and see if it helps. Kendall and I are going out on a supplies run. We'll be back in no time.""I want to go," Harry spoke almost immediately, looking hopefully into Zayn's eyes, but Harry only received a frown in response. "You're sick," Zayn said matter-of-factly. Harry only shook his head."I want to go with you. I'm ready, I know I am. I know you'll protect me-""Hell no. I'm not trying to get myself killed today." Kendall said, standing in confrontation to Zayn.Harry had never seen Zayn move as fast as he did when he snapped his head toward Kendall, a scowl on his face."I don't really think it's your decision, Kendall," Zayn's voice was one Harry couldn't recognize. Kendall didn't respond, and Harry wouldn't have either if he was in Kendall's position. Zayn was a scary man with bulging biceps and tattoos and facial hair and abs and.."I'm taking Harry. You're staying here." Zayn spoke firmly as he walked to the corner of the room, grabbing a long, black backpack."You have to be kidding." Kendall pleaded, his eyes never leaving Zayn's moving figure. "You're going to get yourself killed Zayn,""In case you didn't know," Zayn said, his voice rising; it made them both jump, "I survived for two years on my own. Don't think I don't know how to take care of myself, and stop insulting Harry so damn much, I'm sick of it."Kendall swallowed visibly and it made Harry cringe. The way Zayn could bring this man to his knees if he wanted to made Harry feel better about going out of the base with him.Harry saw Kendall shake his head a couple of times before he spoke again. "I don't see what your obsession is with him," He spoke softly, looking directly into Zayn's eyes. "He's just a fucking-"Before Harry knew it, Zayn had Kendall pinned against the wall and his chest was rising and falling rapidly. He heard Zayn saying something roughly to Kendall; it was something along the lines of 'or I'll kill you'. Harry's first instinct was to stop Zayn.He ran over to Zayn, placing a hand on his back gently. "It's okay Zayn. Let him go," Harry whispered, rubbing his thumb in circle. Zayn seemed to calm immediately. He let Kendall go and shoved him to the side. "Go away," Zayn spat, narrowing his eyes.Kendall ran out of the room.Zayn turned around slowly to face Harry, his heart visible in his throat. "Are you okay?" Harry nodded in response."I need to be asking you if you're okay," Harry spoke softly, frowning at Zayn.It was silent for two minutes at least, and neither one of them even dared to look away from the other one's eyes. The tense moment was filled with the sounds of soft breath and waves of comfort, but all Harry wanted to do was touch Zayn.Like Zayn was reading his mind, he came closer to Harry by the second, and soon enough they were pressed together in a tight hug."Why do you keep saving me?" Harry whispered in Zayn's ear. Zayn tensed, then relaxed."You should be able to figure it out soon." - Harry tried to ignore the deep growling sounds behind him as he ran. So fast, he ran. His hair was flowing behind him and he was sure he could hear his heart spilling out of his ears. Sweat ran down his face as he tried to keep up with Zayn. "How much farther?" Harry breathed, not slowing in the least. Zayn seemed to have no trouble with exhaustion like Harry did. He envied him."Few more yards. Right out of this brush here," Zayn called from in front of him.Zayn lied. 'A few more' apparently meant 100 more yards, but soon enough, they were out of the trees. There was an abandoned strip mall and a grocery store. It looked like someone had been there before. Harry followed closely behind Zayn, hooking onto his shirt as they both ran to the door of the grocery store. "Hold this," Zayn said quickly, putting his backpack in Harry's shaking hands. He dug around in it and pulled out a long metal rod. "Stay behind me.""Okay," Harry said softly, his voice cracking and his chest heaving for breath. Zayn fiddled with the door until he got it open. "Come on."Zayn grabbed Harry's hand and he pulled him into building. "Find something to cover the door." Harry shot his head around pulled a big box over to cover the door. He saw that Zayn had something to block the door too.Harry only relaxed when he saw Zayn plop down to the floor. He bent over and put his hands on his knees, his chest rising and falling quicker than it ever had, he knew it. That made Zayn chuckle."What?" Harry asked. He clutched his throat with his shaky hand."You're a little knackered aren't you?" Zayn sent him a big grin that made his heart flutter. The familiarity of it made him want to vomit, but he just didn't know why.Harry just nodded.Zayn stood to his feet and grabbed the empty bags out of his backpack. "Come on. Help me fill this up."Harry finally stood up straight and took in his surroundings. The grocery store looked like it had barely been touched; there were isles and isles of food and drinks, more than Harry had seen in a while. "How does no one else know about this?" Harry asked in awe as he began filling up the bag with food. Zayn shrugged."I'm sure they do. They're just too big of pussies to come get it," Harry heard the smile in Zayn's voice.It was silent for a few minutes as they packed up bag after bag. It wasn't until Zayn heard a noise that he spoke."Shh," he said softly. He pulled a knife out of his pocket, his light footsteps echoing through the room. Harry followed. "Stay," Zayn said softly, pressing a hand to Harry's chest before he was out of sight.Harry was frozen in the now silent room. His breath staggered and his heart pounded in his ears; he didn't dare move a muscle. After what seemed like hours to Harry, Zayn finally returned, dark brown gunk covering the blade of his knife. "Stupid," he whispered.Harry didn't realize he was holding his breath until he felt a gush of air flowing past his lips. "What was it?" Harry asked, his voice shaky. Zayn shrugged."Dead," he said simply. He grabbed the end of his shirt and slid the knife through it to clean it off before placing it back in his pocket. Harry nodded with relief."Come back to the back with me. The good stuff is in the storage." He said with a smirk.Harry admired Zayn to the extent that he wished he was him sometimes. Zayn was strong and handsome, and he wasn't afraid of much. Harry liked him for that.The both of them walked through a door that led to a room with boxes stacked to the ceiling. Harry assumed they contained food."Grab as much as you can," Zayn ordered, and Harry followed.He tore open at least five boxes and filled his bags with its contents. Soon enough, the silence returned, but this time there was a lot more of an urge from Harry to break it."What made you decide to bring me with you?" Harry asked softly, keeping his eyes on his task. Zayn shrugged lightly."I know how you are with a gun. I know you can protect yourself," he hummed, more as though he was talking to himself than Harry. "Kendall thinks he knows what he's talking about but he doesn't. I know how you are."Harry frowned, looking up at Zayn now, who was climbed on top of two boxes so he could reach a package of water bottles. "But, how? I've never even shot a gun in front of you.." Harry softly, his brows creasing into his forehead. Zayn paused before looking down at Harry with sympathetic eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but a loud crashing sound erupted into the room. Zayn pulled his rifle out quicker than Harry had ever seen anything move before, and Harry followed Zayn's actions, just not as quickly.Zayn balanced his gun on his shoulder, pointing it toward the door. After a few moments of silence, the banging sound got louder and louder, and then it was constant. Harry was utterly confused when Zayn lowered his gun."What are you doing?" Harry whispered to Zayn, his eyes growing wide. Harry tightened his finger around the trigger, keeping it pointed at the door.Zayn shook his head, and Harry heard him grumble 'fuck' under his breath. Harry panicked when Zayn walked out of the door of the back room."No.. No Zayn." Harry hesitantly followed Zayn to the door. And when Zayn disappeared out of it, Harry had no choice but to follow. "Zayn wait-"Zayn was standing between isles staring at the big windows that covered the front of the building, his gun in his hand, hanging by his side, his finger on the trigger. "What-" It was only then when Harry knew what had been making that sound, knew what Zayn was looking at, and knew that is would be the cause of his death."Oh my god," Harry whispered. The building was surrounded by those.. things. Hundreds of them, banging, growling, clawing at the glass. What made Harry sick was that they looked exactly how what he pictured a zombie would look like when he heard fiction tales about them in his younger days. They were people, normal looking people covered in blood and tattered clothes with hollowed out eyes and cheeks. Some of them had chunks of skin missing from their bodies, others only obtained one or two limbs. Harry felt sick.He hadn't realized he was trembling as bad as he was until he felt Zayn grab his shaking hand to calm him. It didn't work."Fuck." Zayn whispered. "Fuck."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
"How many girls have you had sex with?"
"Just one. What about you?"
Harry frowned as he contemplated his answer. Of course, he didn't want Louis to know that he was a virgin. It was an embarrassing fact, since almost every boy in the tenth grade had lost their virginity this year or the year prior. But Louis was Harry's best friend. He shouldn't bug him too much about it, right?
"I uh.. None. None, I'm a virgin."
Right. Without missing a beat, Louis sighed. "Man, what I'd give to still be a virgin," he breathed, staring up at Harry's bedroom ceiling from his position on the bed. They had been lying there for hours having pointless conversations about school, girls, futures.. but god, Harry loved it. He had never anyone else there for him to just talk. In all honesty, he had never wanted anyone else.
Harry smiled at the calm reaction he got from Louis, keeping his eyes on the ceiling even though he wanted to look at his best friend's face. "Why?" He asked, successfully hiding the smile from his voice. He rolled onto his side, his elbow on his pillow and his head resting in his hand. "What even happened between you and El?"
Louis stayed on his back, but turned his head in Harry's direction. "I thought I loved her, man. Really. She had sex with Nick two days after she and I had sex." He explained. His eyes crinkled around the corners as he laughed slightly in regards to his previous words. "Fuck her, though, right?"
"Right." Harry replied with a nod. He pressed his lips together in a thin line. "I'm kind of glad you're single now, though. You've barely made any time to hang out with me recently,"
That earned a smile from Louis. "High school is rough." He said simply, his fingers mindlessly playing with the fabric of Harry's blanket that rested in between them.
After a few moments of comfortable silence, Louis' soft voice filled the room. "I'm glad I'm single too." He said quietly, blue eyes flickering to green ones.
"You don't deserve that bs," Harry said softly with a grin, his young dimples showing through. "You deserve someone who will love you, not use you Lou,"
That earned no reaction from Louis besides a blank, confused stare, which made Harry frown. "What?" Harry asked, sitting up slightly.
And that was the first night he had ever kissed Louis Tomlinson.
- Harry lie flat on the cold floor in the storage room, his bare chest covered in goosebumps from the new sensation. His chest rose and fell slowly, and his eyes fluttered open to the sound of Zayn grunting. He lifted up tiredly, his brows furrowing in confusion. Once he slowly stood to his feet, he followed the sound with his feet lazily scooting on the floor, him being too lazy to pick them up when he walked. Once he made his way into the large area of the grocery store, his frown became deeper. The familiar noise of the growling creatures at the door had gotten worse, and Zayn was too busy running around and moving things in front of the door to notice when Harry called his name. When he was ignored, he called it a second time, this time moving closer to him."Zayn," he said a third time, grabbing the frantic boy by the arm. Before he knew it, Zayn had swung around, colliding his fist to Harry's face. Harry fell to the ground with a groan."Oh, fuck." Harry winced through gritted teeth, clenching his throbbing cheek in his hands. He looked up to Zayn with terrified eyes. "Well good morning to you, too," He said with a forced chuckle.Zayn fell to his knees and immediately cradled Harry in his arms. "Oh god, I'm so sorry. You.. you fucking scared me, I'm sorry. Here, let me see. Oh fuck, I'm sorry Harry," Zayn rushed, cupping Harry's face in his hands. When Harry's watery eyes met Zayn's apologetic blue ones, Harry froze. Familiarity flooded over him. The deja vu he was feeling made him want to vomit. He had been in a situation so similar to this, but not quite, and he never remembered it until now. -
Harry sat in his first period geometry class alone. He was always early to class, and since Louis didn't have a first period, he usually slept in late, which left Harry at school, basically all alone. Plus, Harry was a sophomore, and he was still trying to get along with his teachers (kiss ass, you know). He sat at his desk, pen in hand, doodling something on a blank piece of notebook paper mindlessly.
I t had been a week since Louis had kissed him. Nothing else had happened since then, in fact, they had basically went back to normal after that night, but Harry knew he felt at least something for his best friend.
He hadn't realized he had been doodling 'Louis' all over his paper until Zayn Malik, the most popular senior in the building who was only in this class because he failed it twice, came up and quickly snatched the paper from his desk, holding it under the light.
"Aw, does faggot boy actually have a boyfriend?" He said, earning laughs from the rest of the class that had come in without Harry even noticing. Harry tried to grab the paper back, but the stronger boy placed a hand on Harry's chest, holding him back. "Guess this Louis kid gave it to him in the arse enough to make him fall in love,"
"In your seat, Malik."
Harry silently sent up a 'thank you' to God when Mr. Allen had walked in, stopping Zayn in his tracks. He didn't dare look up at Zayn when he crumpled up his paper, tossing it at Harry's head.
Zayn had always had a thing for bugging Harry, but Harry didn't know why. It was strange, because no one else had ever bothered him or even seemed to have a problem with him.
Just Zayn.
When the bell rang, Harry was the first one out the door. He walked quickly to his locker and opened it, shoving his geometry book in it. He closed his eyes and rested his head on the locker beside of his, breathing slowly to calm himself down. He didn't know if he was scared or angry, or even upset, but he knew that whatever emotion he was feeling, he needed to calm down. As soon as he had gotten his breathing to a steady pace, Zayn and his friends were walking past him. Harry tried to meld into his locker, but he had no luck.
"There's faggot boy," Zayn called aloud, earning snickers from his friends. "Where's Louis, huh? Did he get sick of you fantasizing about him?" Harry lifted his head and turned to face the boys, who were still walking past him. He was glad they weren't going to stop in front of him and beat him up or something. When Harry narrowed his eyes, he heard Zayn imitating his moan. It was very much too high pitched and girly to even sound like Harry, and completely uncalled for, but somehow Zayn knew how to get right under Harry's skin.
"Oh yeah Louis. Ugh. Fuck me in my tight little arse." The boys laughed loudly this time, and Zayn smirked as the three of them walked right past Harry, leaving him to look at the back of their heads.
Harry was furious. He slammed his locker and stood as tall as he could, even though he was at least four inches shorter than Zayn, and cleared his throat.
He didn't know what came over him, but there was no turning back now. No way they were going to disrespect Louis like that.
"Hey!" Harry said loudly, balling his hands into fists. His heart was racing. "You know, most guys who make fun of someone for being gay are usually gay themselves,"
Zayn froze, and so did Harry. The fury on Zayn's face when he turned back around made Harry unintentionally swallow thickly. All confidence he ever had before was gone.
"What the fuck did you just say to me?" Zayn growled, walking back over to Harry. He towered over him.
Harry kept his composure even though his heart was racing and his hands were shaking. Harry narrowed his eyes up at Zayn. "You heard me."
Within seconds, Zayn swung at Harry, clocking him right in his jaw. Harry fell to the floor with a groan, cupping his face with his shaking hands. He saw stars.
Zayn bent down until he was only inches away from Harry's face. He shook his head and laughed with no amusement before saying, "Disrespect me again, faggot boy, and you'll be even more sorry than you are right now," and kicking Harry in his side.
Harry waited until he saw Zayn and his friends turn the corner before he stood back up, brushing himself off. He saw too many eyes on him for his liking, so he grabbed his things and ran into the bathroom.
Thankfully he was alone. He walked over to the mirror and tossed his bag into the floor. Tears welled up in his eyes at the sight of the already forming bruise on his cheek, but he shook his head, keeping his composure. "Don't cry. You're not a pussy." He spoke firmly to himself, wiping the tears off with the back of his still shaking hand.
He just wanted Louis there to comfort him.
"He punched you in the face?" Louis said with a mouthful of his sandwich, his face becoming slightly red with anger. "No. You can't just let him do that,"
Harry laughed before shaking his head in response. "It's not a big deal I don't guess. He kicked me in my side too, but he should be out of here by the end of the year. I won't have to deal with him anym-" Louis stopped Harry before he could even finish his thought.
"No." Louis said firmly, grabbing Harry's chin gently and tilting it so he could examine the bruise. "You can't just put up with this. He's gone too far now,"
Harry stayed silent.
"We need to tell someone. The principal, the counselor, someone," Louis pleaded. Harry gently pulled away from Louis' grip so he could shake his head.
"I've already talked to them, Lou, remember?" he asked softly, looking down at his untouched food. "'You're in high school. There will be bullies that you can't get rid of. You just have to learn to ignore them.' Remember that helpful speech I got from the principal?" Louis scoffed, taking another bite of his sandwich.
"Fuck that." Louis said with a full mouth, shaking his head. "We'll just have to do something about him ourselves."
"I dunno if that's a good idea." Harry said softly, looking up so he could see Louis stuffing his face. "He's a lot stronger than you think,"
Louis rolled his eyes. "I know. We're not going to beat him up or anything," he said after swallowing his food. He took a drink of his water before continuing. "We just need to embarrass the hell out of him."
Harry frowned. "Well... how are we going to do that?" Harry asked, raising a brow at Louis questioningly.
Louis looked down at his food, the back at Harry. He shrugged. "I dunno yet. But we're going to do it though."
Harry dreadfully walked into the locker room after gym class with his regular clothes clutched to his side. He always purposefully waited just long enough after class until everyone had left the locker room so he could change in peace. Unfortunately, he had gym with Zayn, and throughout the entire class period, Zayn had been giving him strange looks. Not ones of hatred, but ones of confusion. Harry tried to ignore it.
He sat his clothes down on the bench between the lockers before pulling his slightly sweaty shirt over his head. He folded it lazily and tossed it on the bench before sliding his shorts down, leaving him in a white pair of boxer briefs. In the middle of folding his shorts, he heard a voice that made him jump.
"Hey faggot boy."
Harry flinched and pressed his back against the cold lockers, making chills encompass his body. He used his shorts to cover his torso. "What do you want?" Harry asked, his voice a lot stronger than he expected it to be. He wrapped his arms around his body.
Zayn laughed. "No need to cock an attitude," he said with a laugh still hinting at his voice.
"Glad I amuse you," Harry said softly, keeping his arms around himself tightly.
Zayn scoffed and stepped closer to Harry, which made Harry press his back against the cold lockers harder. "Please don't hit me." Harry said, clenching his eyes shut tightly and turning his head so his good cheek was pressed against the locker. He prepared himself for the blow of Zayn's fist.
He didn't know what made him coward so quickly in Zayn's presence. Maybe it was the way Zayn was looking at him: an expression Harry couldn't recognize no matter how hard he tried. Maybe it was the way Zayn's muscles bulged through his tight t-shirt. Or maybe it was just because it was Zayn.
Zayn shook his head, and instead of hitting Harry, he grabbed Harry's chin gently and tilted it so his face was only inches away from Zayn's. "I won't." He whispered.
Okay. What the fuck was going on? Was Zayn... flirting? Maybe Harry's previous accusation was correct.
Zayn's eyes searched Harry's face for what felt like forever, but Harry knew it was only a few seconds. He swallowed thickly.
"What are you doing?" Harry asked softly, his heart pounding in his ears.
Before Harry could even blink, Zayn's rough lips were pressed against his in a deep kiss that made Harry want to melt.
He tensed up, but he soon found himself relaxing into the kiss, making his hands wind around the back of Zayn's neck. Zayn tasted of cigarettes and mouthwash: a combination of tastes Harry grew to love within seconds. Zayn's large hands found Harry's bare hips, and he pressed his body against Harry's, making the space between him and the locker become nothing. Their mouths melded together perfectly, and Zayn's hands slid to Harry's bum and he squeezed, causing Harry to moan softly against Zayn's lips. Zayn slid his tongue into Harry's mouth. Harry dug his fingers into Zayn's neck, and Zayn grabbed Harry's small hips and lifted him up, letting Harry wrap his legs around Zayn's waist.
Zayn pressed his crotch against Harry's, making him moan louder than he did before. Zayn's lips found Harry's neck, biting and sucking lightly on the skin.
It was only when the bell rang indicating that students needed be in class, when Harry snapped back into reality. He gasped slightly when Zayn removed his lips and set him back down on the floor. Zayn stared at Harry for what felt like forever before he left silently, leaving a breathless, flustered, confused, and hard Harry alone to take care of himself.
-
Harry had one conclusion to profess: there was no way this was the same Zayn Malik from high school. He acted nothing like the Zayn Malik he remembered. This Zayn was caring and gentle and.. not that Zayn. This Zayn cared about Harry, didn't he?"I remember you," Harry whispered, shaking his head. "Zayn.. Zayn Malik. I remember." The look on Zayn's face made Harry feel guilty for even saying his name. "I.. I'm sorry," he whispered. Harry didn't know why he should be sorry, but for some reason, that's what he felt was necessary. Zayn shook his head. "Harry Styles. Why in the fuck are you sorry?" He spoke slowly, laughing slightly at Harry's actions. Harry smiled in response."I just.. I felt guilty for remembering you. Because I feel like you're nothing like the way you were," Harry spoke slowly, never looking away from those blue eyes that he was suddenly in love with.Zayn pressed his lips together in a thin line. "You're right. Taking part in the end of the world kind of makes an impact on you."Harry didn't realize that Zayn still had his face cupped in his hands until he pulled them away, making Harry wince at the loss of contact. "It's unbelievable, really." Harry shook his head. "You're like, not even the same person." He said, this time taking his hand up to place it on Zayn's cheek. The older lad leaned into the touch mindlessly. "Is that a good thing?" Zayn asked softly, raising an eyebrow at Harry. They both laughed."Never mind, I already know the answer to that."Harry couldn't look away from the boy. He was fascinating, Harry thought. How did Zayn become so caring? All the background noise soon faded into nothing when Harry realized the only place he wanted to be was with Zayn. He felt safe.Harry didn't realize how close their lips had become until Zayn brushed his fingertip along Harry's aching cheek, attempting to soothe it. Harry knew it only had to do with the fact that he loved the feeling of Zayn's skin on his, but it worked."I'm so sorry for hitting you." Zayn's cool breath tickled Harry's face, and the familiarity of it felt so good. Good enough that Harry made a rash decision that he would probably regret later, but for now, it was what he wanted.Harry felt Zayn gasp slightly when he pressed his lips to his, but he soon relaxed, melting into the kiss. Zayn snaked his arm around Harry's waist, pulling him so Harry was straddling him.They were soon piled on the floor, hands roaming the other's body, moaning into each other's mouths, Harry on top of Zayn as their lips melded together. It was so familiar to Harry, it made his stomach flutter. Gunshots filled both of their ears, and they both snapped up, running over to the glass. The herd of dead humans started spinning around and began focusing their attention on something else. Someone else. "What the fuck?" Zayn whispered, watching as the herd began to turn away from the building, following the sounds of the gunshots."What is that?" Harry whispered, frowning slightly. Zayn shook his head."It's someone saving us."