I don't really have a place for this, since it's not fanfic, but I've been playing around with it for awhile, so I figured I'd just put it here, since there are a lot of other stories for it to play with :)

Title: By Blood and Chocolate

Genre: Sci-fi/Fantasy

Setting: Dystopian Future, roughly a generation from present day.

"We should wait until morning."
Colt grunted, but said nothing. I could only assume that meant he agreed on some level; and yet we kept walking.
The moonlight shone brightly, hitting the various cracks and crevices on the sidewalk we stalked along, warily eying every house, every darkened space between them. Despite our pace, we were fairly silent, excepting Codi as he huffed slightly, his lanky form awkwardly floundering through the night as he tried to keep up.
I quickened my steps to close the gap between me and the older man ahead. "This is a stupid idea," I insisted lowly. "Jack is just taking unnecessary risks with this plan." With all of his plans, I added in my head.
"Jack's been out here a lot longer than you, Tobi," he reminded me, pushing his salt-and-pepper hair out of his face to let his gray-blue eyes pierce mine sternly. "If his instincts say move, we move."
I sighed, but fell back in line, resting my hand on my left hip holster. If Jack and Colt hadn't kept me alive for so long, I'd argue further; maybe even brought up the fact that his time in the open had possibly left him less a few screws.
But they had, despite my being a scrawny nothing of a girl when we'd met, and that was the point; so I just kept walking silently until the safe house came into sight.
Codi let out a barely audible whine, and I couldn't help but smirk; the poor kid was still getting used to the move, the raw nerves. He'd gotten comfortable in this place-- a simple two story, three-bedroom house in what had been a middle-income suburban area before The Rising. There were still some non-perishables around, some luxuries like soap and booze; even a couple Jane Austen books that I skimmed through in the daylight.
But we couldn't stay—it was too difficult to fortify, and the place was too close to the roads to keep away from Jackals. So we were packing up and traveling by dark.
Colt stopped short before the house, and I halted a moment after, only to have the stupid teen bump into me from behind. I elbowed him harshly, but never took my dark eyes off of the scene before me. It only took a minute to see what Colt did.
The front door was open. Just an inch, but it was enough to display the tiny glow that was coming from deeper inside the house. The tiny crack between the frame and the door gave away our entire position: one of the reasons we always shut any potential entries and exits. And Jack knew that.
Colt nudged me, pulling me away from any potential thoughts of what could have happened, and nodded toward the back, placing his hand on his gun. I nodded and took a step toward the alley, but my blank expression flinched a bit when he gestured for Codi to follow me. He was lucky it was dark, or I would have groaned like hell at having to bring the kid with me.
I waved my hand harshly and lithely stepped through the alley between the buildings to sneak around the back, hoping there was enough light for the awkward nineteen year-old to follow my movements. I tried to be more sympathetic to Codi-- I was a Rabbit once myself, hiding underground in a crappy village, brainwashed in rituals and morals, and completely inexperienced in all but a single chosen profession-- but it was hard to have him holding me back; especially at night, when the chances of dying rose exponentially and the shaggy brunette was still easily spooked and could barely shoot a gun.
We finally slipped through the gate and I carefully twisted the knob to the back door. I took one last look over my shoulder, holding my Live Gun up for him to see (Live Bullets are smarter to bring to an unknown fight, since Jackals don't need silver to die and Zomps take a moment to react to a gun fight). He nodded, and I opened the door.
It was quiet, and dark besides the moonlight casting shadows around us. I walked slowly through the hallway, glancing at the shut doors and the darkened spaces to make certain nothing was amiss.
We were steps from the living room, where a faint glow still emanated, when a soft but very audible thunk came from behind me. I whirled, gun cocked and aimed, only to see Codi regaining his composure as he tightly grasped the table he'd bumped. I looked at him incredulously, but he only blushed, glancing away from something to my left.
I turned and found easily enough what had startled him: a mirror, still hung at eye level, caught enough light to cast about reflections of the room. I gazed for a moment at the scarred and mangled profile it projected, before l looked away, brushing back the gritty strands of hair that escaped my braid and refocusing on the next move.
I held up my hand to the teenager behind me, silently counting to sync our entrance. On three, we both slipped through the entrance, guns aimed at the seemingly empty room.
It took a moment before I realized the room, though silent and sedentary, wasn't actually empty. A tiny figure stood in the center, an unnoticeable draft causing the thin fabric of her nightgown to sway at her feet.
Colt entered through the front, and the three of us stared in surprise at the human girl that lay before us, motionless, staring at nothing as if she had always been there, as much a decoration for the house as the bookshelves or ratty recliner.
Codi opened his mouth to speak, when suddenly what seemed to be a flood of bodies exploded from the kitchen. We found ourselves set upon by a hoard of Vomps, and it took all of three milliseconds for me to realize we were in trouble.
The first bullet came from Colt and slid straight into one undead bastard's skull. Being lead and not silver, it didn't kill him, but unlike their smarter predecessors, Zombie Vampires take to blood indiscriminately, like sharks to chum. If one of their kind goes down with an injury, a slew of them will jump the poor sucker as if he were just as tasty as a breather.
Also like sharks, unfortunately, the freaks realize after a couple of bites that what they're eating isn't what they want, and will come back at you strong, so you better have your Dead Gun (loaded with silver bullets) handy for the fight.
Normally in a shootout, if you can down a good handful of undead crazies, the rest will decide you're not worth it and go for an easier meal. However this group was still coming, and even worse were still twenty strong.
I glanced in my peripheral vision and took note that Codi was almost completely out of bullets, Live or Dead, and I was pretty sure I was running low myself. Colt was making each shot count, but there were more than enough bloodsuckers to use those shots up too. I couldn't figure out why they were still coming, and I had a feeling I wasn't going to live long enough to get an answer.

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