The morning light shines brightly through the dimmed windshield of the car, giving a slight sense of warmth to Preston who slept restlessly in the passenger side. David glanced away from the road and to Preston at his side, furrowing his brow with worry as he let out a long sigh of exhaustion. He shifted his focus back to the road ahead that was littered with decomposed bodies and the rotted leftovers of a once bustling city—abandoned cars and buildings that were beginning to be overtaken by nature.

"David...?" Preston's voice was quiet and meeker than usual, his eyes fluttering open while waking from his small rest.

"Hey kiddo. Feelin' okay?" David asked, stealing another quick glance at Preston though this time his focus went to Preston's right arm. In place of his hand was a plethora of bandages on what was left of his wrist stacked upon a grotesque wound that traveled up to his elbow.

"Do I look like I'm feeling okay?" Preston replied with a snarky attitude, leaning his head back against the seat and wincing as he pulled his wounded arm closer to his chest.

"I know, I'm sorry. Just tryin' to be nice I guess," David pulled his gaze away from Preston again to look at the road ahead, squinting and leaning forward trying to see what was in the distance, "I'm glad you got some sleep though. The gas is running a little low. We'll probably have to step out and see what we can get from some of the cars here. You okay enough to do that?"

Preston now took his turn looking at the wound. It has been almost two months now since the incident but the wound had only continued to worsen. He felt a bit sick staring at it too long, so he turned away to push the small curtain-like fabric covering the window away and look at the buildings passing by them.

"Y-Yeah, I'll be fine," Preston answered after some hesitation. David laughed curtly and shook his head,
"I know that tone of voice. You should stay in the car. I'm sure I can handle it." David's voice was stern but still light hearted, ensuring Preston wouldn't argue back. Preston thought it over for a moment, sinking in his seat before nodding,
"Just be careful please."

It didn't take long before David began to slow the car down and pull it off to the side of the road near a group of cars he figured had a good chance of still having some gas in them. The only downside was the amount of zombies outside that were naturally drawn to the loud electrical hum of the car. David quickly shut off the car and as soon as his hand was free he pulled Preston back away from the window and let the curtain fall back into place, instead peering out from the dimmed windshield.

"Jesus that's a lot of walkers," Preston muttered nervously, "Can't we go to another car?"

"That one right there has the best chance of having any gas in it. Looks a bit newer than all the rest—like someone left it here recently," David explained, pointing to one of the cars ahead, "Besides, look. They're distracted or something."

It was true; the zombies' attention was quickly driven away from the car and instead seemed to be focused on a specific building, each of them clawing and groaning as they tried to get into the door that was clearly beginning to break down.

Preston perked up slightly, his eyes widening as he watched the small mob of zombies continue to push towards the door.

"Is... someone in there?"

"Uh, probably but that's not our problem right now," David said nonchalantly, pulling down the welder's mask he often kept on and grabbing his baseball bat from the backseat, "As long as the zombies are distracted I'll be good to get the gas and leave. Good for us." He pulled his gloves on a bit tighter and laced up his boots, ready to step out into the dangerous open when suddenly a loud noise caught David's attention again.

BAM

The breaking door. It suddenly flew open and an older man with a large bag on his back stepped out, pistol in hand, and started shooting a few zombies down before motioning for someone behind to follow along. A younger boy quickly came through the doors now too, half of his face obscured by a mask. The older man was yelling something incomprehensible from inside the car, though it was obviously not English. Both of them looked overwhelmed and for good reason: the crowd of zombies only worked to draw in even more, and it was quickly becoming too many for only two people to handle.

"David we should—"

"Nope, not our problem and you're hurt," David said immediately despite the obvious sense of guilt in his voice, "I've got to hurry because if that crowd sees me too we're fucked." He watched for a brief moment as the older man was trying to lead the younger boy through before being pushed to the ground by a zombie he hadn't accounted for. It was clear the white haired boy wasn't prepared at all to fight on his own, holding a smaller bag close to his chest and starting to try to back away though had only succeeded in backing himself into a corner.

"David," Preston whined with urgency, now reaching for the car door, "What if that was me? We can't leave them, we have to help."

"Don't you dare open that door Preston—"David's voice was just as urgent, quickly locking the car door as he tried to think over their options.

Okay. Easily get the gas or. . .

He looked at the scared boy again, his forehead creasing with stress as he realized he didn't really have a choice. Of course he had to help. What if it was him and Preston? David would want someone to help then.

"Goddammit." David turned the car back on and with one quick motion he floored the gas pedal and drove through a large portion of the zombies, creating a small opening in the crowd though it wasn't going to last long. He slammed on the brakes again, sparing Preston a quick glare to make sure he stayed put before scrambling out the car and wasting no time in digging the spikes of his bat into the skull of a few zombies ahead of him. The hoard was chaotic and loud, the harrowing noises of the undead making it hard to even process what was happening, so much so that David almost didn't notice Preston getting out of the car with a small hatchet in hand. David had no time to scold him, only huffing frustratedly and tasking out his anger on the zombies that still surrounded them.

"The car!" Preston yelled, pointing to David's car and trying to motion for the white haired boy to try to get into it in between hacking and slashing at the zombies. Despite the hoard being lessened, the boy still seemed frozen in fear, now shutting his eyes and having his back all the way pressed against the brick wall of the building. Shockingly enough, the older man had somehow managed to find his footing again and seemed well enough, helping shoot a few more zombies down before deciding they had cleared out enough. He grabbed the younger boy's arm and pulled him to the car where they scrambled inside, followed closely by Preston jumping back in and slamming the door shut. David pushed and stomped on the head of the zombie closest to him for good measure before following suit, hopping back into the drivers seat and quickly beginning to drive away.

Everyone was out of breath, overwhelmed by the speed of all the events that had happened.

"What did I say?" David quickly said to Preston, shooting him an annoyed look.

"I couldn't just sit there! There were too many of them."

"I had it handled."

"No you didn't, I'm the one who got them in the car," Preston bragged, though his smugness was immediately dismissed.

"Because I ran over a fuckton of zombies already. I should really take that stupid hatchet from you," David muttered and Preston laughed.

"What, so you can cut my other hand off with it too?" He huffed and David shook his head frustratedly. They both sighed in unison, taking a pause before Preston leaned around his seat to look at the two strangers now sitting in the back.

"Are you guys alright?" He asked worriedly, now finally getting to take a better look at the two. The older man was well-built and obviously the stronger one with a naturally stern expression. He had black hair that was greying and a few strands of white that were prominent against the dark background, as well as rectangular glasses that framed his face nicely. The other boy was very thin and frail looking, with large blue eyes that took Preston's attention immediately. His eyes were a pale blue with long white eyelashes that gave him a pretty kind of look, matching with the messy ashen white hair that fell in front of his face and stuck up in awkward places. It contrasted well with his darker skin, giving him an almost ethereal look that made Preston's face feel hot. Preston hadn't talked to anyone his age in what felt like forever, especially no one was pretty as this. Though, obviously, it wasn't quite the appropriate time to be flirting.

"We're fine. Thank you for the help," The older man stated, wiping some blood off his hands onto his pants and then beginning to clean off his glasses. He had a clear accent, which Preston expected since he'd heard the man speaking another language earlier.

"It was nothin'," David mumbled breathlessly and Preston couldn't help but let out a slight laugh.

"I'm glad we showed up when we did. Good timing I guess," Preston chimed in again, though his gaze was still stuck on the white haired boy who was fumbling nervously with the bag in his lap, "I'm Preston by the way. And this is my uncle David."

"Ah. My name is Nikolai," The older man introduced himself, pausing for a brief moment to fix his tie and try to make himself look a bit more put together before adding on, "And this is my... apprentice. His name is Vero."

Vero's gaze finally shifted from his lap up to meet eyes with Preston for a brief moment before he quickly looked down once more, seeming embarrassed.