


Phobia

by Cooper Sterling



Category: Zombieland
Genre: Horror, Hurt-Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-01-22
Updated: 2011-02-12
Packaged: 2013-10-05 03:04:49
Rating: T
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,101
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5687695/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/2013413/Cooper-Sterling
Summary: So...We all know Columbus mentioned he had a number of phobias....Perhaps its time the rest of them were brought to light. Featuring snakes, spiders, storms, and more! Fluffy Talumbus goodness!





	1. Spider

Spiders

**Columbus said he had alot of irrational phobias... Here we are to explore them. .... Ones I am planning on working with include thunder and lightning, snakes, spiders (Below), getting lost, the dark, and the fear of being locked in a tight space....**

**Okay... Yes, I know Daddy Longlegs are harmless, but they're still the spider that freaks me out the most... But to Columbus, they're just as deadly as any zombie.**

**"Arachnophobia** or **arachnephobia**is a specific phobia, the irrational fear of spiders and other arachnids. It is a manifestation of zoophobia, among the most common of all phobias. The reactions of arachnophobics often seem irrational to others (and sometimes to the sufferers themselves)." ~ Wikipedia

* * *

Columbus was a safe driver. Always had been, always would be.

Tallahassee, suffice to say, wasn't. But even the redneck needed sleep now and again. It was that simple. So, during the once in a blue moon episode where the wheel was entrusted to the younger man, Columbus made use of it, and held it in a steady sixty through sixty-five range, staying on the dangerous side of sixty.

Morning had finally reared its ugly head with the weight of a Monday, sending a watered light over the roads. Yellow dashes raced ahead of him on the tarmac, and the road was blissfully empty on all sides. The road would probably never experience much more than this level of traffic for the rest of its existence. It was a sad, sobering thought.

Columbus blinked twice as the slanted sunlight spilled across the hummer's windshield, blinding him for a moment as he drove. The light had no effect on the man who was sitting next to him in the passenger seat. He was dead asleep.

Columbus cringed at his own choice of words, and with a practiced dart of obsessive and compulsory eyes, took his gaze off the road for a moment to look at Tallahassee. Chest rising and falling with a deep, steady rhythm, hat pulled down low for a brim to cover his pale blue eyes, closed and relaxed in sleep, nose and lips wrinkling in a silent snarl. Columbus figured he was probably dreaming about a glorious massacre...

And so, with that comforting thought in mind, he turned hs attention back to driving....Or...At least he tried to.

Columbus had barely turned his attention back when he saw it.

Long, spindly, needle thing legs that held a body, sickeningly plump in comparison, suspended in the air. The legs moved and waved in impossibly synchronized and mesmerizing movements, freezing him in place as he stared at it. The Daddy Long legs scuttled quickly over the dash...towards...oh god...the horror... The direction of the steering wheel, and more importantly, him. Panicking, he scrambled for his seat-belt, vaguely aware of the sudden swerve the hummer had taken on. He accidentally kicked the brake pedal twice in his haste, sending the car jerking, and his fingers sliding along the cool metal of the buckle, eyes still frozen on the arachnid that was carrying its body, now down the curve of the steering wheel.

The spider was very clearly coming after him...It would bite him, and he would die, and it would be embarrassing as hell, and just horrible all around. Panicky noises continued squeezing from his throat and Columbus bounced in his seat as they went over the shoulder and started into the ditch and-

A calloused hand darted over and grabbed the steering wheel, jerking it sharply towards the road. The spider was lost beneath the strong fingers with a barely audible soft crunch, and Tallahassee guided the car back to the road where it coasted gently to a stop. He did have some practice with ditch driving, after all. Columbus kept his eyes on the steering wheel as the fingers lifted. Underneath, he could see the smashed spider's body, legs twitching.

Okay...Either he never drove this car again...Or they got a new steering wheel.

Tallahassee took note of what Columbus was staring at.

_"That's_ what you were screaming about.....A fuckin' ..spider?"

"Yeah.." Columbus blinked, and blushed, embarrassed.

"A spider....A. Fuckin'. Spider."

"I thought we had gone over this just like two second ago."

"We almost crashed in the ditch....Because of a _spider?"_

"I don't think we would've crashed....But essentially...Yes....I'm...Kinda....afraid....Of them.." Columbus explained haltingly.

"Oh really? What with the sissy panic attack and shrieking and all...I didn't notice."

"Sorry," Was all Columbus responded with, eyeing the dead arachnid.

"If that isn't proof of your bitch-dom....I don't know what is." Tallahassee snorted, brushing it off on his hand, then his pants.

Columbus just sighed, and moved to turn over the wheel.

* * *

**Okay....Up next will be snakes, for which I shall explore the area of zoo animals....And Columbus will get a hug. From a python.**


	2. Snake

**"Ophidiophobia** or **ophiophobia**is a particular type of specific phobia, the abnormal fear of snakes..." ~ Wikipedia

_Python sebae (African Rock Python), is a non-venomous python species found in subsaharan Africa.  
With adults reaching lengths of over 6 m (20 ft), this is one of the world's largest species of snakes. The typical adult length is 4.8 m (16 ft) and rumors of specimens over 20 feet are generally considered reliable, but larger specimens have never been confirmed.  
The color pattern is typically brown, with olive and tan irregular blotching, fading to white on the underside. At a glance they can be easily mistaken for the Burmese python, P. m. bivittatus, but the two species are not closely related. ~ _a plaque somewhere in an abandoned zoo, in front of an exhibit with the glass shattered everywhere

_

* * *

_

**Alright... Here we go. Chapter two, with more Talumbus in it, much longer, and much more dangerous. Drop me a line if you like, alright?**

* * *

"..Ya know...The country's our oyster." This remark hit Columbus with surprise, considering who it was coming from.

"Our zombie infested oyster." He corrected.

"Still an oyster. Jus' a bloodier one." Columbus nodded. So the world was their bloody oyster? What of it?

"If you say so..."

"I DO say so... An' I was thinkin' bout the things we could never do before, what with pansies everywhere an' all....An' I've got a list here I think we should go through."

Columbus respected the sanctity of a list. It was his own list that kept him alive, after all. Another's list, even if it was just a series of probably redneck things to go out and do, should be taken with all seriousness.

"So...What's on this list of yours, Tallahassee?"

"Well...I ain't got it wrote down....but I definitely know what I wana do first."

"And what's that?"

"Ya ever seen a Safari?"

* * *

Okay...So maybe it wasn't Africa...But it was the closest thing they'd be able to find. A zoo somewhere down south (He hadn't quite cared enough to look at the place's name) somewhere were it would support some of the ....well....The animals that survived. Zombie zookeepers and tourists went down, because apparently, the fucking zombie apocalypse wasn't enough of a reason to postpone the family trip to stare at animals....

Columbus...Well...In all honesty, he hadn't well...Ever...Been to a zoo. Sure, he'd read about them, seen them on tv, and those nature documentaries were enough for him. Always, he'd come up with some reason to miss out on those field trips that brought them to the the smelly death traps. After all, a zoo was just a place where you put dangerous animals in damned cages, which only pissed them off in the long run...so no need to take the chance of getting eaten by a tiger.

But with worries about other things eating him instead, Columbus has finally nutted up. Time for the zoo.

Some of the exhibits held the corpses and bodies, barely distinguishable now, of whatever had been contained inside. Small tufts of fur, scales, feathers, you name it, were everywhere.

Maybe some PETA enthusiast had been among the ranks of those who had last been here...Because Columbus was only too quick to notice some of the other areas were unlocked, doors opened, glass smashed in, planks set down to give a means of escape, bars bent, wood burned.

And if those things were still alive....

Holy crap, this was a stupid idea.

But Tallahassee wanted to shoot some big cats, and every other single dangerous animal, that apparently proved you had balls if you put bullets in them.

Yes. Columbus definitely thought this was stupid. Very stupid indeed.

So when they caught the sight of a black and orange striped big cat, running, Tallahassee followed his instincts, and Columbus followed his.

Tallahassee clicked a shell into place and ran at the thing, ready to jam his hand down it's throat, however he needed to claim the beast for a trophy.

Columbus....Well...Columbus screamed and ran.

Cardio, cardio, cardio..... Cardio was helpful, but he couldn't outrun something big with claws like that and teeth... so Columbus sprinted towards the nearest building that still had lights on inside, skylights letting in light as well in the building. His feet splashed through stagnant pools of water, before he finally stopped, breathing hard to look behind him.

It reeked in here....On closer inspection, Columbus find out why. This was the aquarium area... And "Fins" the dolphin...Well... A dolphin that dies in water and rots doesn't make such a pretty sight. The water looked suspiciously clouded and brown-ish green in the tank...Looking around, he noticed a tank busted...So that's where the water on the floor had come from....And judging from that meaty blob over in the corner, some sort of marine animal had been in that tank as well.

Columbus tried to slow his breathing as quickly as possible. He didn't want to breathe in more of the fumes than he had to... Looking back towards the exit where he'd entered, he put the sleeve of his sweatshirt over his mouth, and started walking back that way.

* * *

Food....It hadn't had big good food in too long...The snake flicked its tongue lethargically. It was larger...But it would fit... The bright neon hues that were the snake's mix of vision, heat sense, and scent showed where the prey was moving... It slithered gently through the water, gentle ripples spreading, but going unnoticed as it readied its ambush.

A few more steps.... The snake had patience...It could see it...Coming...Coming...

And there it was, the optimal strike range. Slow and sleepy movements changed in the blink of an eye. Teeth flashed, wet and dark mottled scales shone, muslces clenched, and a tail flopped.

And then the snake waited patiently for the prey to submit to the embrace.

* * *

Columbus kept walking, wondering if Tallahassee had shot the thing yet...He'd though he'd heard shots, but you never knew...He could've been taking potshots at the beast or zombies... Columbus felt a little pathetic for running off, but he couldn't exactly help it. It had been instinct, but now he was regretting the choice. Being away from Tallahassee tended to make the weedy man more than a little bit nervous.

Columbus didn't even know what Tallahassee was going to do with it... It's not like there was a taxedermist nearvy or a den for them to set it up in-

Every line of thought was cut off as Columbus felt something slam into him. He was aware of the slam of force, knocking him onto his back, and the sharp press of teeth around his elbow, clamped down in a death grip that rivaled a wood-clamp. There was a short, panicked scream as his gun went flying, water splashed up around him, and Columbus thought for sure it was a zombie. He had been ambushed by a zombie.

But he realized that wasn't the case as he tried to shriek again, feeling scales pressing against his arms, and a flop of a long heavy weight squirming over him, under him, all around him. Snake...Snake. Snake. SNAKE. Columbus felt himself locking up with fear as scales cinched around him.

He couldn't move.

One hand flopped above a section of coil, the other pinned far under, arms totally trapped to his sides. Legs couldn't move, ankles crossing from where his shins were forced together, and Columbus could still feel the teeth in his arm, holding him there painfully, causing another squeak of fear from him. But at the moment, the teeth seemed like a minor problem. It wasn't going to be the fangs that killed him.

No...He knew what it would be... Columbus could feel it happening slowly already. The muscles were tightening around him, driving the air from his lungs, the life from his body. He was aware of each acute movement of the snake that was killing him slowly... And rather painfully. Coil after coil of writhing muscle was collapsing in on him from everywhere.

Columbus tried to keep as much air in as he could, but with the firey ache building up in his lungs and spreading to the rest off him...He knew he didn't have long...and with the luck he had in life so far... Who knew how much longer it could be until Tallahassee came looking?

Finally, Columbus had no more air, no more life to be wrung out of his scrawny body. There was only a wheeze of a croak, then nothing more. Everything was numb, and blackness was already creeping in from everywhere, threatening his ability to see.

There were two thoughts that flitted around his oxygen depleted mind.

The first... It was odd that there was a second snake... Odd that it was so tall and broad... And only half of it seemed to have scales.

The second... This was a fitting death... Did lions limber up before they took down the gazelle? Columbus didn't know. He had been a gazelle his whole life.

It was fitting that he died like one, caught in the python's embrace.

* * *

Tallahassee growled loudly with rage, kicked over a trashcan, and shot some zookeep's golf cart... the damn tiger had gotten away... He figured it had probably high-tailed it, and for good reason. Tallahassee wanted nothing more than to kill something big and dangerous, and he wanted to do so, NOW.

And Spit-fuck had run off... Where to, he didn't know, but he figured he better find him. That kid got into ten kinds of trouble when he was away. So Tallahassee merely turned around, and walked back into the direction they had started off. No sign of Columbus. He licked his teeth beneath his lips, eyes squinting as they scanned the area of the zoo around him. No weedy kid running around... But some building with a big ass smiling happy-as-a-fucking-clam dolphin on the front was the closest building to where he started the chase.

Seemed like as good a places as any to find his bitch.

Strolling casually, sawed off shotgun resting on his shoulder, Tallahassee followed the neat little path into the psychotically happy dolphin building.

And there was Columbus.

Well....What he assumed was Columbus. Right now, it was a writhing, bulging mass of snake wrapped around something.

He speed picked up and he sprinted at the mass or scales. The closer he got, the more he saw. The angrier he got. The more worried he got. That familiar double barrel lay in the water. He could see one thin-fingered hand flopping bonelessly above a section of the python, nails blue. He could see a mop of curly brown hair that peeked out. He could see the sneakers at the other end, and god damn it, he could see one well chewed string of a sweatshirt hanging loose.

That was all Tallahassee really needed to set him off.

The blood that welled from where the snake's mouth was fastened around HIS spitfuck's elbow just added to it. With an angry growl dark enough to put out candles, Tallahassee sprung forward, abandoning his own gun to the floor in the process. Nothing he could shoot without hurting Columbus. One work roughed hand fixed over the snakes head, fingers digging ruthlessly at the eyes as he tried to pry the thing off, but to no avail. That head was stuck firm.

Time was running out. Tallahassee could tell. He had thought he'd seen a dim flicker of thought in those brown eyes as he sprung in. Now they were dull. Damn it... If that snake had...

Tallahassee cut off that train of thought. He was not letting his bitch be taken by a fucking animal, by a fucking snake... the head.

It hit him hard and suddenly, and he kicked himself for not going for that when he first ran in. You cut off the head, the serpent's body follows... That was how the proverb went, right?

He could only hope it went for real snakes too.

With an angered snarl, Tallahassee brought out his knife, and with the practiced skill of one who knew his way around weapons, took the measure of the top half to the snake's head, eyed the blade, and brought it straight down on the thick scales of the thing's head.

There was a sick scraping noise, and a slight pop of a puncture sound as it bit though. Tallahassee stopped when he felt it bite through the other side. There would only be the thinnest, shallowest of nicks from the blade to Columbus. The wounds from the teeth would be worse to deal with.

The body tightened once, twice, the tail twitching and thrashing in the water, before it went completely limp, laying still and loose.

Tallahassee wasted no time. He uncurled the thing from around the kid's still form, taking note how many times it had gotten around him. Damn, if Columbus wasn't the skinniest motherfucker left alive-

If he was alive...No... He couldn't think like that.

The beast tossed to the side, thin fingers searched for a pulse, and had to press hard to find a weak, thready, and fading one. Tallahassee felt it skip twice under his fingers. It was enough.

He wasn't breathing... Columbus wasn't breathing, and his skin had a definite bluish hint to it, lips a more pronounced shade.

Do or let him die.. And Tallahassee knew which he'd rather avoid with everything at his disposal as he pushed his mouth forward, pinching Columbus's thin nose, and took a deep breath, a full lung full for Columbus's. Which weren't taking in the necessary air.

Once...

Twice... ...

Thrice... ... ...

And finally, Tallahassee was rewarded for his efforts. Columbus's eyes rolled, and his body gave a shuddering jerk as lungs started working. He coughed and spluttered twice, wincing as the motions shook him. Damn, that kid was going to have some serious bruises... Bruises all over.

Tallahassee ran his fingers under the sweater, then under the t-shirt under that, then under the, Jesus Christ, how many of layers did the kid need?

He finally got to the skin, aware of Columbus breathing hard and deep and whimpering. He felt maybe one, two cracked ribs... But that was it.

"You are one lucky motherfucker... Two cracked ribs, I think... Ain't I ever told you how much better it was to be lucky?"

* * *

Columbus was surprised by a few things as his mind drifted back into consciousness.

One, he was waking up.

Two, there were lips at his.

Three, it was Tallahassee's.

He coughed and spluttered, each action feeling as though it ripped through him with the capability of a hurricane. Pain spread through him, and it quickly subsided. Columbus almost giggled, but held it in when he felt the hands under his clothes. It would've been even more pathetic, and probably hurt like hell. So giggling was out of the question.

"Lucky...Yeah...I feel...real lucky..."

"Ya should... I almost thought you went and died on me there, kid."

"Oh?... You're talking about the snake..."

"Duh. What'd you think I was talking about?.... Some smarts get squeezed out your ears?"

"Nu-uh... ... I mean....Ya kissed me...And then... Felt me up." Columbus knew he wasn't thinking clearly. The lack of oxygen had done this to him, but he couldn't help himself. To his relief, he was answered with a chuckle, instead of anger.

"So I did, Columbus... So I did..."

"I mean... It only... Took a gigantic snake... and me almost dying... Again... For you to kiss me..."

"Yeah. Aren't you special?" Columbus was going to answer, when he felt himself lifted out of the pool of water on the floor, and held against a broad chest. It hurt, and he showed so with a groan. Everything hurt... Tallahassee hushed him quietly.

"You're going to be sore... So it'll be best to give ya lots of rest... But I have something in mind to do while ya get better.."

"Nn..?" Served as Columbus's only response. He raised his tired eyes up to Tallahassee, then followed his gaze to where the body of the snake lay, stiffening with pained muscles just at the sight of it.

"S-s-snake....Fucking...Hate...Snakes..."

"I noticed, Columbus.... Good ol' Tallahassee's getting a new pair of boots." Columbus gave a chuckle that sounded more like a wheeze, face glued to Tallahassee's body. There was gentle rocking as they walked back to the hummer, not enough to hurt him much more, but enough to slowly lull his tired body to sleep.


	3. Dog

**Cynophobia- Fear of dogs or rabies.**

"Tallahassee... I don't think any steaks will have lasted this long..."

"Shut up. Freezers, right kid?" Tallahassee turned around from the meat counter, the high quality deli meats in the case having become high quality rotting meat and mold. Definitely not pleasant.

"They'll probably have freezer burn then." The truth was, Columbus just didn't care for being inside this meat market much. It was cramped, it smelled of rotting meat, and it had one way in and out- the front door. To his mind, it was just a beacon for any zombies: SURVIVORS HERE. GET THEM WHILE THEY HAVE A PULSE.

"What is it with you and an aversion to everything with a fucking masculine ounce in it?" The older man asked. He wasn't leaving. He was just heading further back into the store, through the steel door that lead back into the freezer... Which, no surprise there, didn't look like it had had any power running in it for quite a few days.

"I am not averse to masculinity. I just don't think any steaks are going to have lasted."

Of course, Columbus was the right one in this case. It really wasn't pleasant in there, and deserved no description. Suffice to say there was mold, there was rotting meat, and there were bugs. Lots of bugs. Tallahassee just sighed and scratched at his stubbly scalp and turned back out of the meat locker. Columbus just glowed with that 'I told you so' feeling, so much that you could almost feel it by standing next to him.

Columbus started following Tallahassee out of the store when he saw it.

It has a lighter shade of orange-yellow fur, matted in the blood of its victims, what looked to Columbus to be massive teeth, beady, bloodthirsty eyes... Oh, the horror.

Tallahassee saw something a little bit different.

He saw a golden retriever, owner long since dead, probably the poor chap's blood on his fur, worn teeth used to playing with chew toys, and intelligent brown eyes, full of longing for a master that was long gone.

Tallahassee had always been a dog person... He supposed that's why he had always told people that Buck was a puppy, and not just a parakeet, or a cat. A puppy. _His_ puppy. The dog whined, tail wagging a few times, and stepped forward happily, having finally found someone to reattach its loyalties to.

Tallahassee and the dog weren't expecting what happened next.

There was a gunshot, a yelp, and the dog stumbled back and dropped. Tallahassee turned to Columbus, double barrel still raised, shaking like a leaf.

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR?" The dog was dead. There was no doubt about that. A head on shot, and close range... Tallahassee didn't even want to look at the poor thing, probably reduced to hamburger.... Icky... Not a good thought outside of a meat market.

"It was gonna get you!" Tallahassee didn't even notice the slight hysterical tone to the kid's voice. He just stared at him, blunt and cold. Columbus visibly squirmed under his gaze.

"Hummer. Backseat. Now." He barked those three words, and just watched Columbus scurry to comply. That little shit... Tallahassee gave the poor canine one more glance, and followed Columbus back to the car.

Three days later, and Tallahassee stil had avoided speaking to him. Columbus thought for sure the next pit stop they were going to make would be the end of his life. He kept thinking Tallahassee would drag him out of the car, put that sawed off shotgun at the base of his skull, and pull the trigger. But no, each time, Columbus survived. Tallahassee seemed to be pretending he didn't exist. It was starting to get to him. What if he didn't exist? What if really, he had died a while back and was just following Tallahassee in his afterlife.

It was a sobering thought, and more than once had Columbus going into a state of semi-panic... Which was just ignored by Tallahassee. After the fifth time, when Columbus had gotten his breathing back under control, he looked up from where Tallahassee had regaled him to the back seat.

"Sorry!"

He didn't know where else to start, but figured that was as good a place as any. Unfortunately, Tallahassee chose that moment to stomp on the brakes. Columbus jerked in his seatbelt and quailed under the fierce stare he was fixed with.

"For what?"

"Shooting the dog! I-I didn't mean to... It was like Murray... Just instinct..."

"What kind of fucked up place you from that shooting dogs is instinct?"

"Couldn't help it!"

Tallahassee sat there, still partially turned around, and grit his jaw. Columbus could see the muscles moving beneath the stubbled skin, and swallowed nervously, Adam's apple bobbing with the motion... He leaned over and started to pull up his pants, until the denim was tight around his knee. There, below the joint, you could see the faint ring of teeth left in his leg.

"There was this dog that used to live in our neighborhood..." Columbus began to explain more and more.

"It was a stray, and one day, the other kids got a hold on it, locked it in someone's backyard for a bit... I was on my way home from school. They took my backpack, and tossed it over the person's fence. They told me it was a rabid dog in there, and I'd kinda gotten used to this stuff. Didn't realize they were telling the truth. I got over the fence, went to grab my bag... The dog bit me. Had to go to the hospital." Another nervous swallow.

"Lots of shots... Could barely look at a dog again after that."

Tallahassee seemed to digest this information for a while. He tilted his head to the s

ide and chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"Well then..." He drawled slowly, looking back at the kid, quivering there in his seat. Without further ado, he unbuckled his own seatbelt and climbed back there after there, pulling the shaking Columbus into his lap for a hug.

"It seems I owe you an apology."

* * *

**Thanks so much for all of the positive feedback! The rest of Swimming Lessons will be coming once I can get my butt in gear**.


	4. Storm

Sorry this took so long.. I tried to make it extra fluffy to compensate. Sorry! Don't feed me to the Godzilla, please.

..................

Sometimes, Tallahassee had to wonder why he did whatever Columbus told him to. Then he would remember those cute, bouncy, lively curls, and those glittering eyes of a lost puppy, and the way his face crinkled as it smiled, unused to the action. And then he would remember exactly why, and snap to whatever Columbus needed.

In this case, the kid had been pretty restless. He had too, but there wasn't any place in sight. Weren't even any zombies to kill, so they settled for parking the Hummer in the middle of the road to take a break and stretch. Crows, a regular in Zombieland, circled overhead. Tallahassee went through some of his less practiced zombie-defense moves, wondering if Columbus could maybe learn to do something to save his ass besides running and shooting, when the kid's thing voice broke the air.

"Didn't you hear that?!"

"I din't hear anything." Even so, Tallahassee looked around for any sign of one of the undead. Spit-fuck probably had sharper ears than him, oh the beauty of youth and those who haven't made serious usage of chainsaws.

"Exactly! The crow didn't fucking sing! Birds won't sing before a storm!" Columbus spluttered, grip tightening on his gun.

"Crows don't fucking sing to begin with. They ain't songbirds." Tallahassee shot right back at him. God, if this had anything to do with yet _another_ fucking phobia...

"I don't like storms."

Yes... Oh yes, it did. Because having something the kid wasn't afraid of was too much to ask. Tallahassee looked up at the grey clouds, rubbing his stubble in thought.

"Is there anythin' you're _not_ afraid of?" It came out sharper than Tallahassee had meant, and he kicked himself mentally as he watched Columbus lock up for a moment.

"... ...World of Warcraft. I'm not afraid of that."

Tallahassee just sighed and rubbed at his face some more.

"Get in the Hummer then." He sharply barked, walking back to the driver's seat and pulling himself in. This was fucking ridiculous, and he watched the kid finish his exercises before joining him in the car.

Tallahassee kept half an eye on the clouds above as they drove. They were indeed taking on that deep, almost purple hue that clouds take right before one of those summer storms, and he sighed, looking over in the passenger seat. Columbus was pale, chewing his sweatshirt string furiously, and staring out the window with wide eyes. He had to think of something to take his mind off of things. With a nuetral huff, he took his eyes off the empty road to lean over and snag a case.

"Eyes on the road!" Yeah. Spit-fuck must've been extra tense to snap at him like that.

"In a minute.. Its too fucking quiet."

"It's because the birds aren't singing! There's a storm coming!"

"So I've heard, Mr. Revere.." Tallahassee chucked the case at him sideways.

"Pick a CD, would ya?" He asked, trying to sound nonchalant. Tallahassee figured it wouldn't be long until the thunder started. And there was no telling what kind of reaction the kid would spew then. He looked back to the empty tarmac to shut the kid up where he was babbling as he flipped through the case.

The CDs weren't anything special. Over their journey through the wonderful world that was the US of Z, they'd simply started picking them up here and there. There was no radio in Zombieland, and having to either sit in silence or listen to kid babble on about Night Elves and Ogres and whatever got extremely old after a while. One half of the case was filled with the music Tallahassee had collected, the other with the few bands Columbus had decided worthy of his standards.

Needless to say, it was Tallahassee's music that got played the most, but he wanted to give the kid something else to think about while the sky above them churned like an upset stomach.

He was relaxed until the music started playing, then he listened to the words more carefully. It was a song he remembered hearing once or twice when the radio did still work, but had never paid much attention to it. He'd been busy doing other things... Driving Buck to daycare, building a little boat with him...

Tallahassee cut off those thoughts where they started and again focused on the music and empty road.

_"Do you know what's worth fighting for?_

_When it's not worth dying for?_

_Does it take your breath and you feel yourself suffocating?_

_Does the pain weigh out the pride?_

_And you look for a place to hide._

_Did someone break your heart inside?_

_You're in ruins."_

And that was when Tallahassee hit the next button.

"What's up nex' on this CD?" He didn't want anything more with that sort of a depressing feel to it. Got him thinking to much, and he was Tallahassee. He didn't think, he didn't dwell on things gone by. He killed zombies and kept his bitch safe. That was his purpose in life right now. Columbus just shrugged, looking out at the road.

"It's a CD someone burned... flicked through it and found some songs I liked, but I can't tell you exactly what else is one there." He said quietly, eyes flickering out to the gun metal grey sky once more.

The next song started, and Tallahassee watched Columbus for a response.

_"There's no one in town, I know_

_You gave us someplace to go._

_I never said thank you for that._

_I thought I might get one more chance._

_What would you think of me now?_

_So lucky, so strong, so proud._

_I never said thank you for that._

_And now I'll never have the chance._

_May Angels lead you in._

_Hear you me, my friend._

_On sleepless roads, the sleepless go._

_May Angels lead you in."_

Again the speakers were lit up with the sounds of soft, soothing music, and mroe importantly, depressing, sad lyrics. Tallahassee huffed and hit the next button. Karma was just fucking with his attempts to distract Columbus now. It was like Fate had it out to ruin everything. Like Fate had designed this shitstorm of a zombie virus just to get them in that car, had built up the storm just to get Columbus anxious, had made the ass who burned that CD the kind of guy who liked sad music and put a few songs Spit-Fuck liked on there, just so he would be trapped in this awkward attempt to make it better.

Damn you, Fate.

Damn. You.

Tallahassee could swear the little next button was laughing at him as he pressed it.

The next song was something mroe snappy, had a bit of a rappish tinge to it

_"It starts with one thing._

_I don't know why._

_It doesn't even matter how hard you try._

_Keep that in mind, _

_I designed this rhyme,_

_to explain in due time all I know._

_Time is a valuable thing._

_Watch it fly by as the pedulum swings._

_Watch it count down to the end of the day._

_The clock ticks life away._

_It's so unreal._

_I didn't look out below._

_Watch the time go."_

... This one also quickly found itself skipped over, as once again Tallahassee looked out the window. The sky was darkening, and he couldn't tell if this was from the rain about to come or the night drawing near. Crossing his fingers, Tallahassee prayed this song would be better.

_"My insides all turn to ash, so slow._

_And blew as I collasped, so cold._

_A black wind took them away from sight._

_Another darkness over day that night._

_And the clouds above move closer, looking so dissatisfied._

_But the heartless wind kept blowing, blowing."_

The redneck found the part about the wind and clouds appropriate for the moment... But no. This just wasn't going well for him. If he had to find another CD to occupy his spit-fuck, he'd glady go raid a store for one. Some random pop shit that wouldn't be so... chilled.

_"Summer has come and passed._

_The innocent can never last._

_Wake me up, when September ends._

_Like my fathers come to pass,_

_Seven years has gone so fast._

_Wake me up when September ends._

_Here comes the rain again, falling from the stars._

_Drenched in my pain again, becoming who we are."_

And gee, who would've guessed, another one for the skip pile. This one even went and said "rain" right out there. He cast a sideways glance at Columbus. The younger man looked over with one of his kicked puppy looks in his eyes.

"You don't like my music?"

Ouch. That hurt. Especially with that little shift of the head like that, and.. Tallahassee was tripping over himself before he could help it. He paused the stereo before it could begin again to try and explain why he kept skipping songs.

"It's not that, its jus'... It's not bad music, but with the mood, an' the rain, an' trying to distract you, and you'll be thinking about crap, and I dunno, it all jus' seems like.. Sad music. Fucked up depressing shit." He said, trying to get the idea out without insulting the music on the CD. He only half suceeded. Columbus nodded and shifted around, looking at the dash for a moment before his dark eyes flickered up to look at Tallahassee's too pale ones.

"I get what you're saying, big guy. You're getting all flustered.. Relax." Columbus gave a watery chuckle meant to soothe the other man, and it worked. Tallahassee relaxed back, and reached out to the stereo, flicking the play button where the music had stopped, ready for the next song.

The next song was one Tallahassee recognized. One from his days, one he actually liked, one of his favorites.

_"Yeah!_

_Hell Yeah~_

_You can't get romantic on a subway line._

_Conductor don't like it, _

_says you're wasting your time._

_But everybody wants some!_

_I want some too!_

_Everybody wants some!_

_Baby, how 'bout you?!"_

Tallahassee settled back in his seat as he enjoyed the song that drifted out with guitar and drums blasting through the speakers. Of course, fate wasn't done with him yet.

That was the moment lightning flickered in a field next to them, and an ear deafening roll of thunder peeled through. The result was instantaneous. Columbus made a panicked noise and twisted away from his window, more pale. Tallahassee hit the pause button once more, this time the storm really peeving him off. It had dared interrupt his song.. And scare his Spit-Fuck.

If he had been able to find that store, grab it by the neck, pummel it into the ground, then shoot it, he would have.

But he couldn't. He just had to settle for stopping the car as a torrent of rain, maybe some hail rained down. Abso-fuking-lutely lovely. Columbus was having some sort of panic attack, it was stupid to try and drive, for even with the wipers going the shield was fairly obsured, and everything just... just wanted to screw with him. He started moving, uncukling from his seat, and leaned over to the twitching Columbus as yet another peal of thunder crashed around them. He gently put a hand on his shoulder and murmured soothing things.

"S'okay.. Jus' a bit of rain. I bet it's gonna drown all the fuckers for miles... Or would if there were any.. Or maybe a bolt will strike a zombie and make him fry, just down to a pile of ashes. Suppose I could claim credit for kill of the week with tha'?"

Well... Tried to say soothing things. Tallahassee's version of soothing was a bit different, but that didn't mean shit. Columbus understood the meaning behind the words, and shook his head.

"You'd have to do something to create the lightning. Other wise it's Mother Nature's kill of the week."

Tallahassee just grinned as the kid started to slowly unwind.

"Damn. Have to cross that off my list... Wait. Don't they have like.. Labs where they make lightning and shit?"

Columbus was about to answer, when another thunderous boom make the windows the car rattle, and a flash could bee seen through the blurred glass. He squeaked, and without prompting, latched onto Tallahassee, burying his face in his neck and wrapping his arms around his neck. Tallahassee grimaced at the fear he could feel shaking the ex-college student's body, and slowly got his arms underneath him and transferred the two of them to the backseat.

"There, there, kid.. It's jus' some rain. Jus' some rain and a lil' noise and light." He was answered by a whimper, and he sighed, tightening his arms around the younger.

Almost without meaning to, Tallahassee began to sing. He sang to Buck when he was little and things scared him. Ironically enough, Tallahassee could remember a time a storm had blown in and scared the blond child.. Mind replaying memories of gentler times, Tallahasse started humming, rubbing Columbus's back, then gradually started softly singing the song that had been interupted by the storm.

"You can't get roman'ic on a subway line.

Conductor dun like it.."

Columbus blinked, listening to the comforting twang of that voice. It was deep, and he could feel the chest rising and falling under him, vibrating gently with the song being sung. It was deep and strong.. But it wasn't like thunder. It was the sudden, jolting fear that was sent through him. It was something better. A constant that cared about him, that kept him safe, that comforted him.. Columbus was starting to relax in no time, but he kept his face pressed tightly into that warm neck where he could feel his voice.

"..says you're wastin' your time.

But everybody wants some.

I wan' some too."

Tallahassee grinned as the words continued. He could feel him, slowly but surely losing the tension in his muscles and he stroked that 'fro softly, and kept the song going.

"Everybody wan's some.

Baby, how 'bout you..?"

"Mhmm..." Was the sleepy reply he got from the kid draped across his chest, before everything just seemed more relaxed, sweeter, right... And Columbus nuzzled him once more and drifted into sleep, curled in Tallahassee's arms.

Outside, a storm pouted and churned, sending water running and thunder rolling.

Inside, two survivors in a hostile world rested, one kept safe and warm in the other's arms, the other standing gaurd and thanking the storm for this opportunity.

* * *

**Songs used: **

**21 Guns by Green Day**

**Hear You Me by Jimmy Eat World**

**In The End by Linkin Park**

**Valentine's Day by Linkin Park**

**Wake Me Up When September Ends by Green Day**

**Everybody Wants Some by Van Halen.**


	5. Mud

Columbus wasn't sure how he let Tallahassee talk him into this. It was just a multitude of nodding, "Sure.", "Okay.", "If you want.", and one stop out at a ranch in the middle of Fucking Nowhere, Colorado, and there they were. There were a few barns and sheds dotted across the site, and the fields in the surrounding lands were graceful, black hills, soil exposed to the elements, the crops either harvested before the virus, or withered.

The rains had followed them, even if the storms had lightened up into more of a steady drizzle, skies remaining dreary and cold, spotted here and there with lighter and darker patches that showed the contour of the clouds above. There were more zombies than they had anticipated running around, crazy and dying to take a chunk out of anything.

But it wasn't the zombie killing that had Tallahassee so happy.

It was the mud.

And the four wheeler they found in one of the ranch's many barns after clearing the place of zombies.

Yeah. Both of these things were added together in Tallahassee's mind with the force of a banjo to the face, and he grinned, just grinned that grin that promised something that would be dangerous and would require nutting up.

All in all, Columbus was sure this wasn't a good idea when he first saw the thing, a collection of red metal and thick tires, glinting ominously in the light. At least there were helmits. Head trauma was not a good thing in Zombieland. It would leave you slow and sluggish, slower to respond, reflexes on vacation, and they hurt like hell. The kind of hell that got you eaten for breakfast by a zombie. And that was on Columbus's not to do list. Definitely on his not to do list...

But this was something that had made its way onto Tallahassee's FUCKIN DO list.

So, like any good bitch, he shut up and did what Tallahassee told him to. He put on the black helmit, flicking the clear face shield down, and got onto the four wheeler behind Tallahassee, who had totally opted to leave out the helmit, leaving his double barrel on a toolbox.

"Shouldn't you... ah... Put on a fucking helmit? You could fall off, and hit your head, an-"

"Kid, there's a few things wrong with tha'. The first was thinkin' I could fall off. The rest go right with that. 'Sides, its only gonna be a gentle ride. Hol' on."

Columbus did as instructed, holding on tightly around Tallahassee's middle. He could feel smooth toned muscles underneath the shirt that flexed and adjusted their balance as Tallahassee tore out of the barn.

Clearly their definitions of gentle were different. Columbus clung tighter, and had the vague thought that Tallahassee was doing this on purpose. Probably just to get him to hold on this tightly... Columbus yelped as they ran over a bump and the front tires left the ground for two seconds that Columbus thought were uneccesary. The wheels were off for two seconds. In front of him, he could just hear the redneck laughing.

Columbus tried to loosen his arms so Tallahassee could have a little more room to do stuff, like breathing and all, and shut his eyes tightly. This was so not a gentle ride. this statement was reaffirmed by the sudden doughnut Tallahassee spun them through, earning another yelp from his partner on the back end and a tightening of his arms. Yeah. Tallahassee was enjoying this.

A few minutes later during this ride from hell, Columbus peeked his eyes open once more. There were a few flicks of mud on the face shield, but nothing for him to give much thought to. His mind was currently stuck on the field Tallahassee was taking him towards, dark rich soil slick with water and mud.

Columbus knew things.

He knew what they fertilzed fields with. Namely, fucking cow shit.

He knew what four wheelers could be used for. Namely, mudding.

He knew whay kind of a man Tallahassee was. Namely, the kind that would take a four wheeler they found into a disease ridden, manure filled, plot of land.

"Tallahassee, not the fucking field!" His cry was high pitched and frantic. He was only half answered. Tallahassee laughed, and sped up.

Oh hell.

Columbus made a squeaking noise and clung tighter as they jumped the bank and touched down in a field, getting showered with mud along the way. Columbus was grateful for the helmit keeping his face covered, but had sympathy for his poor clothes. They'd have to be burned later, and he'd always liked this sweater..

Tallahassee had obviously done this before. This was evident in the way he spun the machine and clung tightly with his thighs on the four wheeler, the way his muscles coordinated and knew which way to lean in the event of each turn and movement. They topped a bank with a loud hum of energy from the four wheeler, and Columbus definitely made an unhappy nosie as he looked over the hills in front of them and saw something he did not like.

There were zombies slipping in sliding in the mud, snarling and shrieking, and moving in that deadly sprint for them. There were about eight, and Columbus had no idea where they had come from. Five of them wore flannel shirts and jeans, and looked like they had been hardy, strong men. Maybe they had been field workers. There were two woman, one mauled beyond any sort of recogntion, the second burned along one side of her body with black streaks. The last was what looked like a teenaged boy, hair dyed in streaks of blue and black, an emo dog collar still fastened arond his blood soaked neck.

Columbus swallowed nervously. He knew they most likely couldn't outrun the four wheeler, after all, he could outrun the undead mo-fos. But he didn't have his shotgun, and that always made him more than a little edgy with the fuckers around.

But no... Not Tallahassee. He kept his sawwed off shotgun in that leg holster, and with a smooth, seamless move, he drew that weapon and turned the fourwheeler.

To go straight for them.

Columbus made a high pitched, definitely afraid, definitely unhappy noise, and squeezed Tallahassee to death. The older man just chuckled, moving his gun to aim at the zombies in some sort of sick jousting action. Gun leveled, a shot rang out over the engine's steady pur, and one of the zombies dropped. Twice more Tallahassee fired, and twice more zombies dropped. He actually stopped the fourwheeler on top of the hill for the next two shots. Columbus hid behind his back.

He heard the steady clicks of the gun being reloaded, and peeked around his friend's burly frame.. The zombies were still coming. He ducked back around, and heard the things shriek with anticipation as they got closer... And then he heard the rest of Tallahassee's shots, and sighed with relief as the last of the zombies dropped.

"D-don't.. Do that again." He said shakily, and Tallahassee just laughed.

"Talkin' bout the kills or the fun stuff?"

"That's not fun! Its fucking dangerous!" Columbus lifted a hand to remove some of the mud on his face, at exactly the wrong moment. Tallahassee gunned the throttle, and Columbus tumbled off the fourwheeler, landing on the slick slope on his back. He slid back down the enbankment, mud squishing and squelching as he went, some working its way up past his shirt. He finally came to a stop at the bottom of the hill, helmit streaked with mud. Columbus raised a shaking hand to flip the now opaque face shield open.

Zombies.

He had come to rest next to the zombies, and they were staring at him with yellowed, dead eyes, and the blood was still dripping from mouths that had killed, that had ripped flesh from bone... And ew... Just ew. Gross. Extra gross and germy with the plague thrown in. He started to move, get to his hands and knees, looked down, and noticed something that made his day a whole hell of a lot worse.

Not only was this mud..

This was mud that was made even muddier by the zombie blood mixed in with it. Panicky by this point, he scrambled faster to get up, only succeeding in smearing the dark red brown mud further as he slipped and fell on his way up, maing a high pitched, fearful noise. He heard Tallahassee laughing somewhere, and yelled shrilly at him.

"Shut the fuck up!" He hadn't meant to sound so angry, or to snap so sharply.. But he did, and while he floundered around in the mud that seemed like super glue on fucking steriods, he heard the chuckling draw nearer until Tallahassee was close enough. Then without so much as a word of warning, a hand on his collar was lifting him up, and he was being placed on the fourwheeler. Columbus squirmed, mud getting in uncomfortable places, places he didn't even know could collect mud, and it didn't feel nice. There was probably germs of all sorts soaking in through his pores this very second. Behind him, Tallahassee was getting on, reaching past the college student nestled in front on him on the fourwheeler, and they were off again.

Only too soon were they at the ranch house again, and Columbus noted that Tallahassee had attempted to at least drive slow and smooth the rest of the way. He was grateful fot that, but didn't say anything. He guessed the older man could kinda tell, what with the way he leaned back on that toned chest and all. Before he knew it, he was bring lifted up and deposited again, and Tallahassee look at him... was that apologetically?

It must've, because even his tone seemed quieter than usual.

"Sta' there."

Like Columbus was going anywhere... In a matter of minutes, Tallahassee had returned with a green hose, holding a kink near the tip to keep the water from spurting all over just yet.

"Its gonna be col', but better than the mud, 'm guessin'.. I think they musta used it for watterin' the cattle."

Columbus nodded, not trusting himself to speak yet, just keenly aware of all the disease ridden mud that encased his body. If he opened his mouth, who knew, maybe strands of the Z Virus would be able to fly in, and then he'd be a pus puking, gut sucking mother fucker. So he held out his arms and stood apart a little ways, and Tallahassee hosed him down.

Fuck yes.

That was cold.

Extremely cold.

But that was a little thing. What was more important was the mud that was running off of his body in rivers, the washcloth Tallahassee tossed him that he used to scrub his skin until it was raw under the ice water, the way he finally got the grit out of his hair... It didn't even matter that his teeth were chattering or he couldn't feel his fingers. He was clean, more or less, and that's what mattered.

Tallahassee didn't seem to think so.

"God damn it... Now yer fuckin' chilled to the bone. Shoulda said stop."

"F-f-fine." Was the unconvincing reply. Tallahassee snorted, and before Columbus could quite comprehend, he was being ushered to the Hummer, and strong, firm hands were stripping him down, peeling wet clingy clothes. Columbus was left naked and shivering, and opened his mouth to protest.

He quieted before he could talk with a kiss, a kiss that left his spine melted somewhere in his toes, and made him forget completely why he had been feeling cold in the first place. It ended too soon, because of this nagging need for air, and the blush had returned full force on the younger man, but it wasn't from embarrassment. Tallahassee chuckled.

"Better get you warmed up the res' of the way, eh?"

"Fuck yes."

* * *

Lame author is lame and can't write smut, so I'll leave that to your ample imaginations.

So... First off, I'd like to ask each and every one of you for something.

You see, this story was requested by a friend of mine, the lovely Koo, who wanted to see mudding and zombies.

And so we had this fear of mud, Tallahassee finding a fourwheeler, and zombies. (Imagine that!)

But... I'm running out of ideas. I'm a broken author. And I need you to help me out, 'kay guys?

Maybe its a phobia you would like to see used, or maybe its some sort of just random thing.. Try and give me a phobia or something else to work with, and I'll see what I can keep dishing out for you guys, yes?

Thanks for all the lovely reviews I've been getting!


	6. Bridge

Songs listened to while writing:

_Dawn of a Million Souls - Ayreon_

_Beneath the Waves - Ayreon_

_You Took the Words Right Out of my Mouth - Meat Loaf_

_The Sixth Extinction - Ayreon_

_Liquid Eternity - Ayreon_

_Down for The Count - Bowling for Soup_

_The Unforgiven - Metallica_

* * *

They had been driving for a while now, their last stop having been a rest stop a while back in Nevada. They headed east for a change, their plans to head north, then criss cross wherever the hell they felt like it later. It was a clear day, something not uncommon in the abandonment of the United States of Zombieland. It was like Mother Nature was rubbing it in their faces or something. Hey, here's a wonderfully nice day you could be using to go to the park with your friends or family... Oh. Wait. They all turned into fucking cannibalistic monsters or food for said fucking cannibalistic monsters. Sorry. Here's the nice day anyways.

Columbus was reading, something he did often in the confines of the Hummer. He had been majoring in English before all this began, but it still seemed like a total waste to let all the books, fruits of mankind's imaginations from the centuries, rot. Today, he was reading 1984 by George Orwell, something to keep his mind occupied.

The sun had risen from the horizon and nested comfortably above them by the time Columbus looked up, he couldn't have been sure on how long they'd been driving, or how far.

But what he was sure of was the lattice work of steel he could see ahead, contrasted across the sky like a thick, dark, and threatening spider's web.

"Stop!" His thin voice cut through the comfortable silence around him, jerking Tallahassee out of the reverie he had reached in driving. He wasn't sure why spit-fuck wanted him to yet, but he stomped on the breaks, staring ahead at the toll booths on the beginning of the bridge entrance. One zombie shuffled around the middle of the road, easy pickings, and Tallahassee was not happy to be letting it walk for the moment.

"What?" The older man growled, staring ahead. His tone was gravelly, betraying his grumpiness. Columbus blinked a few times, swallowing nervously.

"There's a toll bridge ahead."

"I'm upgradin' ya to fucking _General _Obvious."

"Do you have a dollar in quarters on you? Because I sure don't." Columbus continued thinly, pointing out one of the green signs hanging from a beam and ignoring the General Obvious comment. Tallahassee just turned his head and _stared._

Columbus fidgeted, the curly haired mouse to Tallahassee's pale blue eyed hawk, feeling like those eyes were feeding directly into his soul.

"Kid, is the inside of your head jus' as fluffy as the outside? Lemme give ya a newsflash. Ya see, there's this virus going around, turnin' people into psychotic fucking cannibals. We've been callin' fore mentioned psychotic fucking cannibals zombies. Followin'? Now, since this country has become a hellhole... Well, more of one than it already was, ever'thin' kinda collapsed. Economy especially after that. And alot of good that health reform did us.. But my point being, we don't need four fucking quarters!"

"I've been around, Tallahassee. I know what's been happening. But still... It would be like a respect this for the toll people. They gave their very lives to gaurd these booths, and make sure people paid the toll. The least we can do is honor their dying wish, and pay the toll. It's like dancing on their graves otherwise." Columbus tried to sound firm, but his excuse came out sounding lame, even to his ears. Tallahassee stared at him and Columbus briefly wondered if he was going to get hit. He got his answer a few moments later.

Rough, loud, hearty laughter rang out in the hummer, and Columbus looked around nervously. That had been loud enough to be heard outside.. What if those zombies had to heard?

_Note to self.. Tell Tally not to laugh so loud. _Columbus thought to himself, looking over as Tallahassee started to speak.

"Kid, only you could talk up a toll man like that to sound jus' like a war hero... Now, we both know that's not why. What's the real reason?"

"duntikebrijez." Was the quiet and garbled response.

"Say again? I don't speak spit-fuck."

"I said... Iduntlikebrijez."

"I think I head a word or two that time... Just take a deep breath and try to talk slower. We got time. Hell yeah, do we got time."

"I ... I don't like bridges. At all. They're not safe. At all."

Tallahassee tried to not laugh. Really head. But holding in laughter and chuckles was something the older zombie hunter did not do well, and he couldn't help but let a few chuckles bubble forth.

"Of course you don't like bridges.. Of course you don't... Pray tell me, oh Master of Phobias, why bridges aren't safe."

"Haven't you ever seen the news? Bridges around safe, collapsing all over the place! Like that one in Minnesota that killed how many people! And these bridges haven't even had any proper maintanance in _months. _**Months.** Do you know how unsafe that is? It could break, and we'd go spinning down into the river! And then we would drown. Or be all wet. And neither of those would be okay."

"Relax."

Tallahassee started driving towards the bridge, slowly at first. Columbus sputtered.

"Wh-what are you doing?!"

"I am crossing the fucking bridge."

"No, no, no, no! Go back!"

"... No."

"Please?"

"We're crossing the fucking bridge."

"But-"

"No buts. Right now."

"It'll-!"

"Do nothing but sit there and stay there while I drive over it."

Columbus tried to pull off an abused Labrador face, one of the many variations of kicked puppy at his disposal. To his dismay, it had no effect on the man beside him. Not even with the lip wobble.

"Columbus... We are crossin' this bridge. An' we actually doing it in more than one way. Ya see? I actually said something like a shrink there..."

Columbus just swallowed nervously and scrunched up in his seat as they swerved and hit a zombie, then swerved back towards the bridge. Oh god, they were gonna die, gonna die, gonna die... Well. He was gonna die. Tallahassee seemed to be impervious to everything that he was afraid of.

Just a few more seconds now... And there it was. They touched the bridge, and Columbus gasped, holding his breath, like not breathing would stop anything that might happen. He didn't move a muscle, as Tallahassee drove, and finally they hit the middle, which would mean that this ordeal was half over, and they would be safe and then-

Tallahassee stopped.

In the middle.

Of.

The.

Fucking.

Bridge.

Columbus squirmed and squeaked in his seat.

"Drive!"

"I thought you said not to."

"That was before you were on it! Get off of this damned thing! Please!"

Tallahassee listened to the kid's hysterics with mild interest. He'd just have to learn to relax.

"Come on! Go! Please!"

"Not just yet. I wanna enjoy the scenery. Quite a lovely view of the river from up here.."

Columbus just made another high pitched noise, and couldn't stop himself from looking out the window, then made another nosie, this one lower, and let out the air he'd been holding as he suddenly relaxed.

Tallahassee's plan had just been to make the kid sweat it out.. He'd get over it sooner or later.

Not to make him faint.

He leaned over and poked the prone for next to him.

"Columbus? ... C'mon, kid. Don't tell me you're really that much of a pansy..." Truth was, he was actually worried. Maybe this hadn't been the brightest idea in the book.. There was no response from Columbus and the other man's brow furrowed in worry.

He stepped on the gas pedal again, and drove them off the bridge, then a little ways further, turned to check on the kid again.

"A'ight... Wake up, kid. Nap time's over."

Tallahassee was beyond surprised when the kid suddenly sat up in his seat, a smug grin plastered over features still relaxing from the nervous. Columbus was simply and efficient about it.. Sat up, adjusted where the fabric of his sweater was bunching in his seat belt, and looked over at Tallahassee, blinking large eyes that help no trace of sleep or unconsciousness.

"You little _son of a bitch! _You faked! What the fuck!?" Tallahassee exclaimed, mind still shocked.

"... It got you off the bridge."

"... ... ... You are one fucking _devious_ little spit fuck."

* * *

Okay, so I edited this chapter once... And Doc Manager UNDID...everything. So I just got done redoing it..

So there will all to likely be some things off with this one. But oh well.

I plan to do dolls, buried alive, and cemeteries in the near future, but I have somethings I need to ask YOU, my loyal reviewers.

Alright, so I've seen one L4D/Zland crossover... and I was kinda... working on one myself.

But I need to know if you guys want to see it. It would feature Tallahassee and Columbus from Zland, and the Original Four from L4D. I could totally see Francis and Tallahassee being old buddies.. And Zoey and Columbus are both ex-college students.. So maybe they've met? No chemistry between them, for that's STRICTLY reserved for Talumbus...

So first question:

Would you like a L4D/Zombieland crossover from me?

Second question:

For the Cemetery chapter, would you like to see a special guest appearance from Church Guy in the Zland universe?

Remember, you're better safe than sorry.


	7. Cemetery and Church

Songs Listened To:

Make You Smile - Plus 44

Bleed it Out - Linkin Park

My Hometown - Bowling for Soup

The Curse of Curves - Cute is What We Aim For

Amazing Flight - Ayreon

Tower of Hope - Ayreon

Cure for the Itch - Linkin Park

So, this started out as a fear of cemeteries as suggested by **A Kiss For a Kill** and seconded by **inu-hottie, **but then it sort of accidently mutated into a fear of churches and cemeteries combined so... yeah...

Oh, and Church Guy is making an appearance in this chapter.. Thought I'd mention that.. Because he's such a character.

Better safe than sorry. Seems like something Columbus would have as a rule.. Hm.

Now, don't be offended by what Columbus says in here about churches. Just.. Please don't get your panties in a twist. Those are not my opinions, and its just a fanfiction. Don't let the fictional characters with irrational phobias offend you.

Consider yourselves warned. If you are offended by a fictional character saying crap about church, don't read.

On with the story!

* * *

Riverside... Gee, who would have guessed it was a town next to a river? Or that it was like some land locked Bermuda Triangle where the laws of regular shit had no place and only Murphy's Law existed.

What can go wrong, will.

That had certainly been the case so far. First, the Hummer had broken down in this hellhole, then going through a mechanic's shop, they had found nothing, but had managed to set off a car alarm and bring zombies running in. The only other place they would be able to get a car would be somewhere in town, but Tallahassee didn't want to push it. There had been enough zombies as it was already, he didn't want to risk anything more, especially with Columbus getting that freaked out look. He knew that look. It usually preceded a full blown spaz attack.

He had the duffel bag over one of his shoulders, the guns shifting quietly against each other with reassuring clicks inside, the pockets full of ammo, the top of the inside covered with those boxes, bullet boxes with ducks, geese, deer, animals on them. There should have been pictures of the real animals they hunted, Tallahassee thought to himself. Put a picture of a zombie on the ammo..

His train of though was interrupted as he looked up at the grey sky, darkening more and more with each passing minute.

"Shit fuck." He swore. Okay. They were now in a heavily zombie populated area, with no car, and it was getting darker out. Not the best of situations.

"Tallahassee... Its getting dark out." Columbus said, almost redundantly by this point.

"Ya think I didn't noticed?" Tallahassee snapped, without meaning to. He watched the kid flinch and go back to staring at the road under them.

"Look kid, -" He started to say something that might resemble an apology in some dimension, but then he was interrupted. He heard a scream, one that was definitely human, then a gunshot. The almost-kinda-apology was soon forgotten as Tallahassee's head whipped around, pinpointing the location of the shot and scream.

Against the now navy blue clouds, Tallahassee's eyes came to rest on a church tower, boarded up, but golden light spilling out between the cracks. That was their mark.

"C'mon kid." He started to move towards it, keeping an eye out for any zombies that had been attracted in the same way they had. A stone wall surrounded the church, and he could see floodlights put up around it, lighting their way.

He kept walking until he noticed something rather different. He heard one set of footsteps. Not the two he should have. Sighing and pushing up his hat, Tallahassee turned around to look behind him. He hadn't heard a zombie, but knowing the kid, he'd been distracted by a fucking firefly or something.

"Columbus, come on."

The kid was standing there with his bag, pale in the light that still remained, and staring at the tower.

"Why are we... going... over there?" His voiced was halting, and Tallahassee sighed. Really? Had he missed the program up to this point?

"Because someone is in there. And we need a place to hang over for the night."

"Why don't we just go back to the ah...the hummer?"

"It'll be too dark by the time we get back."

"So why'd we leave it in the first place?" He watched the kid's Adam apple bob. Something had him upset. He was easier to read than a dog

"Because I thought we'd have found a god dammned car by now."

"We haven't."

"Thanks for the update, General Obvious."

"Your welcome."

"Get yer ass up here."

Columbus did as he was told, albeit somewhat slowly, and more hesitant than he would have liked. Tallahassee just rolled his eyes and opened the gate into the cemetery, the church and whoever was in there only yards away. He wasn't surprised when he heard the tell-tale gurgle and shriek, and raised his gun with barely a glance, blowing the brains out of the nearest zombie. A few more rushed out at him, and Tallhassee shot them all with time to spare, watching the grey matter slide down the bricks with bored eyes.

"Ya think there'll be any more?" He asked, starting to move once again through the tombstones. His tone wasn't fearful or angry, it was the exact tone of voice people used to use when talking about the weather. Zombies were more common than the weather in conversations now, and it wasn't like they were new news anymore. If anyone stepped outside by now and hadn't heard anything about the apocalypse, Tallahassee would swear off twinkies forever. However mild his tone, however, he was only answered with a squeak. A very Columbus squeak.

"What now?" He didn't even bother to look behind him. Hell, don't look back, that sounded like one of the kid's fucking rules. Either way, Tallahassee was just too lazy to turn his head the six inches.

"... There's dead people in there."

Now that surprised him, and as such, it was worthy of turning his head. Tallahassee did so.

"No. Duh. They're called _zombies."_

"No... In the graves... Tombstones..."

"Oh hell... You're afraid.. Of the people who were dead _before_ the infection?"

He nodded. The kid fucking nodded.

"Bu-but... Not just that. There's a church."

"There usually are."

"Churches aren't fun places. They make you sit there, and do nothing but make you feel guilty, for being human, and and and... and so unsanitary, with the water, and the bread, and giving wine to kids, and tell you its body and blood, and they worship a zombie! They worship a guy who came back from the dead!"

"I get the point. So shut up." Tallahassee couldn't take much more of the kid's gibbering.

"...Or nut up?" Columbus finished his motto for him, and Tallahassee cracked half a grin.

"Yeah. That." Once again, he watched Columbus swallow nervously, and shrugged.

"C'mon, kid. There's someone in there. You can tell them all about your fireflies." With that, Tallahassee started walking in again, passing through the headstones. He dully noted an open grave, and stepped around it. He wouldn't have been surprised if it was for one of the first to go when he virus hit, when people were still ignorant... Damn, if they could just turn time back to those first days, and take it seriously, start evacs and bring in the military to crush the first few zombies.. Then they wouldn't be here. He would still have Buck. The world wouldn't be in chaos.

But then, some small part of him rationalized, you wouldn't have met Columbus.

Tallahassee was surprised to hear himself think that, but wasted no more thought on the matter as another zombie rounded the corner of the church. A shot to its head, blowing the skull into so many pieces and sending so much crap flying that Tallahassee doubted Columbus would argue for a double tap on the fucker. Two zombies later, they were stepping into the church, and they could hear someone talking.

_"Better safe than sorry... Better safe than sorry... Better safe than sorry..."_

Which again, Tallahassee thought to himself, sounded like something Columbus would have as a rule. Go figure.

"_I trusted him... I can't believe I trusted him... Better safe than sorry."_

One more zombie came sprinting out from between the pews, and this time, Columbus shot it before it had taken half a step. Damn, the kid must be jumpy. This thought was seconded when he heard a triple tap. These gunshots served a further purpose though.

A door stood off to the side of the large cavernous chapel they were in, separating the entrance of the church from the larger room for the serviced. Tallahassee figured it was like every other church. There would probably be some switch on the inside for the bells to ring, a bathroom, maybe stairs going down into the basement if it had one.

From behind this door, the muttering had turned into yelling.

"_Wh-who's there!?"_

Tallahassee moved over to the door quickly, stepping over the pulp that remained of Columbus's zombie. Columbus followed behind him, wide eyes checking every shadow, every crevice, every nook and fucking cranny for a zombie. He waited a moment to answer, first checking the door. Locked.

" 'M Tallahassee, and this here spit fuck is Columbus. Now open the hell up! There's fucking zombies out here." He called back.

"_N-no!"_

Well... Tallahassee hadn't been expecting that. He wasn't sure wear to go from here. He opened his mouth to speak again, taking in the sight of a very twitchy, very nervous Columbus, and a bloodshot eye peeking through a crack in the door and taking in the sight of them, but before he could say anything, he was cut off again by the warbling, high pitched voice.

_"You.. You think you're so fancy! With your fancy snake skin jacket, and your fancy guns! Well no! Its my safe house! Get the fuck outta here!"_

"A'ight, now you're starting to get on my nerves. Its fucking dark out, we've got no place to go, our car is fucking broken, and you're some toddler who doesn't want to share. Well, I'm going to come in there and shove your animal crackers up your ass unless you open the door." Tallahassee threatened, shaking his fist. The eye watching them from the crack disappeared for a moment, and they could hear coughing. Thick coughs that made him wince in sympathy.

"Not to mention you sound sicker than the fucking zombies. Now let us in."

"Please?" Columbus added hopefully.

"_N-no! I told you! Its MINE. __**MINE.**__ No one rides for free! Now leave... Leave! I have a bell in here!"_

"Oooooh. A bell. I'm soooo scared." Tallahassee mocked him, voice dripping with the sarcasm. He didn't like this.. Not one bit. Not how nervous it was making Columbus, shaking like a rabbit, not how pissed it was making him, not how much it was endangering their lives...

_"You.. You should be!"_

"Um.. Tallahassee... Maybe we shouldn't mock him... He does kinda have what we need, you know." Columbus said, voice shaking.

Fuck.. And let this bastard win the contest of wills? Not likely, Tallahassee thought to himself, listening to more terrible coughing from beyond the door, then a splatter and stench that revealed someone had vomited.

"Open the fuck up. Now. Or I'm coming in and feeding your ass to the zombies myself."

"_No! No, no, no, no, no, NO! __**NO! **__Can't be trusted... No one can... Ding-dong!"_

Tallahassee perked a brow at the "ding-dong" as the man on the other side took a few seconds to cough up his lungs once more. If he hadn't been sure he was off his rocker a few minutes earlier, that sealed it.

"_They can have YOU! DING-DONG, DING-DONG. COME AND GET IT!"_

With this latest outburst from the maniac, Tallahassee finally got what the man had meant when he threatened them with the bell. Loud, reverberating chimes rang through the wood of the building, pure in their sound, evil in their intent.

He could tell alone from the way Columbus shifted this was bad. Could tell from the way his eyes widened and he clutched his gun.

That bell was loud.

It was in a central location.

It would bring zombies like flies to honey

Tallahassee did not like being honey.

"Sonovabitch!" He swore, taking up his own gun, Columbus already shooting at dark shapes that ran in through the doors.

"_DINNER IS SERVED. DING-DONG....." _There was a gurgle Tallahassee barely heard over the sound of his gun as another zombie crumpled, then more coughing.

_"Better... Better safe than sorry... Better this way... ding-dong.."_

Tallahassee glanced over at Columbus, and just in time. A zombie scrambled over the top of the pipe organ, black pus dripping from its lips as it leaped for the boy. It had not anticipated the shotgun blast connecting with its face and splattering even more crap over their surroundings. He heard a yelp from Columbus as the body landed too close for comfort, but kept going, dropping his shotgun as the chambers emptied, everything just being too hectic to want to reload, and reaching for his pistols, the Desert Eagles barking bullets just as fast.

Beside him, he heard the familiar click, BOOM, click, BOOM of the kid's double barrel, cutting down zombies with its wider spread, dropping the fuckers before they could get close. Tallahassee tried to avoid those big, green, fearful eyes. They would only make him more angry.

One of the stained glass windows broke, and Tallahassee was treated with te sight of a zombie crawling over the Little Baby Jesus, spattering blood along the way, and hitting the wood floor ignorant of the glass stuck in its skin. Behind it, more zombies were quick to make use of the new method of entry, and they scrambled in, some biting each other in the process, and all focused on one thing.

Warm, living, yummy meat.

Tallahassee unloaded into them, the undead around him being a convenient way for him to loose his anger. He didn't see them as a danger, as a threat. Just something to take his anger out on. That's all they needed to be.

The trickle of undead slowly ceased, and the two zombie hunters were left standing there, spattered in blood, brain, and pus, ears numb and ringing from all the shooting, and both breathing heavily, Columbus doing so through a Kleenix. Where the hell Columbus got a Kleenix after a zombie massacre, Tallahassee would never know, but he was more occupied by something else.

Behind them, he heard fumbling at the door.

"So, ya little fucker, ya finally come to your senses..." Tallahassee growled. He heard a deadbolt slide, and reached out to open the door, and give that asshole a piece of his mind. He would wish he had stayed out for the zombies.

He was definitely surprised when the door opened forcefully into him, knocking him off balance, and he heard the bone shattering, blood curdling scream of a zombie, and he felt hands, inhumanly strong and insistent, grab at him, push him down. His hands fumbled for weapons that weren't there, that had been left laying around or tossed away, used up during the massacre, and Tallahassee felt his heart flutter with real fear as he got to see a close up of a zombie's face, dark liquids trickling from its mouth as it moved for his neck.

Holy crap... This fear.. Was this what Columbus felt all the time? Tallahassee didn't know why that would be his last thought, but it was clear in his head.

However, that train of thought was derailed.

He saw a flash of gold, heard several thick thwaping noises, and kept his mouth shut as he felt blood spatter across his face, and saw those teeth stop centimeters from his skin.

Surprised, thankful blue eyes looked up from that face.

Up to a Columbus, chest heaving and eye twitching, holding a bloody candlestick. The gold was now spattered with red, dripping off and onto the wood floors of a church.

Tallahassee pushed the zombie, apparently the man from the other side of the door, off of him in one smooth move, gave the corpse the finger, and stood up, still staring at Columbus. The kid didn't move. Only his eyes, flicking about from corner to corner of the room, then Tallahassee, darting over every inch of skin until he was sure it was all okay again, until he could tell himself it was safe. Then, he dropped the candlestick, and picked up his double barrel again, loading two shots into it for whichever zombies they came upon next.

Tallahassee stared. The kid.. The kid had saved him. There was a change. And not only had he saved him, but with a candlestick.

"Columbus... I do believe that was your most inventive kill yet, kid."

The once college student nodded, still shaky. "W-wet nap?" He asked, voice trembling to match. Tallahassee figured it was a good idea with the blood splattered across his face, and held out his hand. He'd humor the kid.

Within seconds, a pristine damp germ cleaning napkin that was so epic to be deemed a necessity to Columbus was placed in his hand, and Tallahassee wiped off his face, then stepped forward, into the entryway they'd worked so hard to gain entry to. A zombie lay dead on the floor.

"Now that.. Would explain alot." Tallahassee said.

"Fucker musta came in and bit Churchy back there and sent him on his trip to Looneyville. Zombie, I salute you. But he musta tasted bad."

There was another nod from Columbus, and Tallahassee had to think for a moment. He of all people knew that with all the kid's phobias and his psychosis, he wasn't the most.. mentally normal in the book. But where was the line between people like Columbus and the Church Guy?

Tallahassee would rather not find out, and just dragged the body out of the barricaded church entry and back into the chapel, giving the Church Guy's body the finger once more before going back inside with Columbus to wait out the night.

Every single lock was put in place, and they slept in shifts.

After all, better safe than sorry.


	8. Stalker Duck

**"Anatidaephobia! The fear that somewhere, somehow, a duck is watching you."**

**Thank you, thank you, thank you.**

**This took ahold of my mind.**

**Enough said.**

**For whatever reason, spellcheck isn't working.. so.. Apologies for any mistakes. Just.. use your imaginations.**

* * *

Spring.. Ah, spring.

Some said it was the time of sun's return, the time when winter died and bled over into summer.

The time of flowers.

Of love.

It was like, all the good things that could ever happen in life would happen during this magical period known as spring. People would eat rainbows and poop butterflies and piss kittens, everyone would get along, glitter would grow on trees.

Columbus thought of it quite differently.

Spring was the time when allergies got bad. When your sinuses swelled up to the point where it felt like baloons shoved in your skin.

Where mud covered the ground and sucked at your feet.

Where rain came, and stayed for weeks on end, trapping you in a house.

Where all the dead bodies that had frozen over winter had started to thaw out, and rot more as heat came.

For Columbus, needless to say, spring was not a happy time.

Tallahassee...Being Tallahassee, could care less. That was fine with Columbus, as long as he had his allergy medication.

It was a rainy and drizzly day as they drove through some state, Columbus couldn't be bothered to remember. Tallahassee declared it nap weather, pointed at the wheel, and was snoozing. So he was left to drive, safely and carefully, along the road.

Skies gray.. Roads wet.. And there was nothing in sight. No zombies.. No cars.. No trees.. Columbus almost started to feel tired as well, chalking it up to the rain and a side effect of the allergy medication.

Another side effect led his relfexes to be.. Well.. Just not as fast as they should have. Apparently, rainy weather slowed the relexes of ducks as well.

**_THWACK!_**

"Oh my god!"

Tallahassee was up in an instant, reaching for his shotgun, eyes searching, as he heard Columbus yell. What was it?

"What and where?" The zombie hunter asked gruffly. He didn't see blood or guts... No zombies..

"I just... I just.." Columbus stuttered, holding onto the wheel.

"Fuckin' out with it." He growled.

"I just hit a duck!"

"...you woke me up from my nap... because you hit a bird..." His tone was a mix of disbelief, and "really, how stupid are you".

"Yes!"

"You dumbass. Not important."

"... ... The duck probably thinks its important." Tallahassee sighed, exasperated.

"The duck is prolly dead now."

"....First Bill Murray... now a duck..." Columbus scooped up his shotgun, and hopped out of the hummer the next second. Maybe.. maybe he hadn't killed it.. Maybe it was just.. stunned. Yeah, that was it. Stunned.

He lost that hope a minute later, looking at the brown speckled bird.

"Tallahassee... I killed it.."

The older man just stuck his head out the window.

"...You couldn't even kill a big guy.. You had to kill a scrawny hen.. good work." He rolled the window back up, and tipped his hat over his eyes.. That kid.. One of these days..

Columbus sighed and toed the duck out of the hummer's way. He didn't want to start driving and roll over it and... ew... replay of the Steamroll Zombie Kill... no thank you..

And that was when he saw it.

Black, beady little eyes..

Poison green feathered head.

Gnashing orange beak.

Giving him _a look._

A duck.. A guy duck, he was guessing, stared at him from the side of the road.. It turned around, twitched its tail feathers, and left a pile of duck poo on the shoulder, like a warning.. Then, it was gone.

And he had a duck stalker.

Later that night, when they were holing up for the night, Columbus made double sure all the windows and doors were secured. Not even a little crack. No ducks would be getting him tonight, no siree.

Tallahassee noticed the extra precautions, and eyed him quizically.

"For the duck." Columbus answered, driving a nail in.

"...the duck...?"

"I think it was mad that I killed the lady duck... It gave me _a look, _Tallahassee. A LOOK. A fuckin', I'mma get you later, sleep in fear, LOOK."

".....We're still talking about the damn bird?"

"YES!"

"...Its a duck... What's it going to do? Quack? Make you wonder if it echoes?"

"It could sit on my face while I sleep! Smother me with its butt!"

"...A duck... could smother you.. with its butt... Uh-huh... What kind of allergy pills are those?"

"I dunno.. Took some caffeine pills earlier.. Didn't want it sneaking up on me in the night.

Tallahassee sighed. That would explain the twitchiness... And all the jitters.. And the fear that a duck was going to kill him. Stupid caffeine.

"The duck isn't going to kill you."

"And zombies aren't real." Tallahassee rolled his eyes, sighing once more.

_Would this crazy never end?_

"Boy, I'm this close to whacking you a good one."

"....you're in league with the duck....Aren't you?"

_Apparently not._

"Hell no. I am not in league with no waterfowl. And you sure as hell ain't mixing caffiene and allergy meds again! Or even ever having caffeine again, ya crazy spitfuck!"

"...so are you or are you not in league with the duck?"

".....I'm going to bed."

The next morning, Tallahassee found Columbus sitting by the door, struggling to stay awake. His eyelids would dropp with his head, and all of a sudden, jerk up as he forced himself awake.

"See any killer ducks?"

"I heard him."

"..."

Tallahassee wasn't sure if he was serious, or delirious. He was going to bet on the latter.

"He was there... He really was! He was cackling, and laughing.." Columbus continued to babble. Tallahassee sighed, and picked him up, depositing him on the couch.

"Well, you sleep now, kid. If I see the duck, I'll kill it. Kay?"

"Kay.." In a matter of moments, he was out, sleeping off the crash from everything. Took him long enough. Tallahassee just hoped he would stay sleeping long enough for his plan.

Tallahassee turned to the kitchen. He had work to do. He opened a cabinet, and found one thing he needed.. Tallahassee was lucky. The other was in the freezer.

A few hours later, Columbus woke to the smell of food.

"Smells good....wazzit?" He mumbled, rubbing his eyes as he sat up. Tallahassee looked at him, putting the finished touches on something, which he quickly set on a plate in front of Columbus.

Columbus stared down at it. Something that smelled very good... And looked like a drumstick.

"Rotisserie chicken?" He asked, taking a bite. It was good.. And greasey.. and good.

"Close." Tallahassee said, biting off a piece.

"Rotisserie duck. Found him outside, cooked him up."

"Oh... oh! so... I'm safe now!"

"Yes.. yes you are." He answered, watching Columbus eat. Those skinny fingers, delicately having the grease licked off of them, picking the meat off bones...

Tallahassee turned his attention back to his food.

No one needed to tell Columbus that it really was chicken.


	9. A Walk in the Woods At Night

Columbus really needed to stop letting Tallahassee talk him into stuff like this. It always ended badly, and tonight would be no better. He could see it already.

But no... Tallahassee wanted to drag them out to some national park in the middle of nowhere. It wasn't even a _park. _It was a bunch of land with trees... No cabins... No public restrooms for huim to use.. Nothing.

Just trees...

Trees...

And would you look at that?

More fucking trees.

Columbus sighed. They were parked on the side of a gravel road (Because this place couldn't even have a decent paved road) and Tallahassee was somewhere in the bushes relieving himself. The college student was holding onto his gun tightly, maybe more so than usual, but one would be hard pressed to see his white knuckles in the light.

It was true, he didn't like the dark. Not with all the things that could sneak up on you, the tripping that could be done, and who knows what else.

But he hated being in the dark, in the middle of a fucking forest even worse. Then not only was is dark where things could sneak up on you... It... It.. It was a _forest._ And that just multiplied it into being worse.

So jitters abound his thin frame, Columbus waited. And waited. And waited.

Really.. What was Tallahassee doing taking this long? Even if he needed Number Two, it wouldn't be taking him this long. Columbus swallowed nervously. What if a zombie had caught him in a moment of weakness?

Even now, he could imagine it.. Tallahassee's face contorted in pain as a ghoulish figure bent over him, ripping at skin to slurp down his intestines, like one long string of spaghetti.

Columbus wasn't sure if he had actually squeaked or not when he opened his eyes, forcing the image out of his head. One thing was for sure.. He needed to find Tallahassee. And now. Right now.

He walked around the hummer, towards the trees where Tallahassee had disappeared into. He swallowed nervously once more, and took his first step into the underbrush.

"Tallahassee..?" His voice was small and shakey. Columbus tried to be a little louder as he took his next few steps. However, that only suceeded in making his voice stutter and shake more.

"T-T-Tallahassee..? Please don't be dead.. Please don't have a zombie chewing on your guts.."

His voiced sounded more pathetic than he would have hoped to project, but it was what came out. Can't exactly be picky. Columbus took another step, hesitating. Was that rustling? Was that him moving through the underbrush? Or was it a zombie coming for him?

Heart hammering... Columbus slowly turned his head from side to side... Then he turned to gaze behind him.

From his left, something large erupted out of the trees, moving fast, with gleaming eyes and glinting teeth.

"BOO!"

Columbus's scream pierced the air, higher pitched, and enough to make blood go straight to ice. He blindly raised his gun, and it was knocked out of his hands. He may have wet his pants at that moment. Just a wee bit.

"Bahahahahaha... You should have seen the look on your face."

"Tallahassee... You.. You... Asshole." There was still laughter from the other man coming in loud waves. Columbus was blushing red as a tomato, his heart beating faster than fast as he tried to calm down.

"That was so... so... so... fuckin' funny... Like you have no idea... It was that funny.." Finally Tallahassee was laughing himself out into small chuckles. Columbus was still on edge though. Trust it would be right at this moment a zombie would appear and eat them both.

"That.. Was mean."

"Aww... It wasn't that bad."

"Cruel."

"Not."

"Unusual punishment."

"No, that will be taking your hand sanitizer away."

"Jerk."

"Proudly."

"Fuck you."

"That an offer?"

Columbus groaned in frustration and rubbed at his face. Enough of this.. He turned around to go back to the hummer, and he heard it.

A small noise, a rustle of some sort...

Then..

A screech. A screech that sounded like a banshee chasing its cheating husband out of hell sounded.

Columbus, in his bothered and edgey state, took off and was bolting for all the world like a rabbit through the bushes, heart resuming its beyond fast pace, feet rushing to match it.

Tallahassee on the other hand, stared up at the screech owl that had taken residence in the tree behind where Columbus had been standing a moment ago.

"...damn it."

Columbus kept running. And running. And running. Running until finally the forest and the dark scored one, and he tripped and went flying over a root. His jaw scraped against the ground and he felt twigs jam into his arms and legs painfully. He screwed his eyes shut just in time to avoid the disgusting wet layer of leaves that stuck to his face. Tonight was definitely turning out to be a bad night, he though, shifting to the side.

He wiped most of the mud off his face, then reached for his pocket with the santizer... Fuck... He must have dropped it. It must have fallen out of his pocket while he running.

So now...

Now he was lost.

In a forest.

At night.

Alone.

Without hand sanitizer.

In a world full of zombies.

...he must have been a very, very bad person in a past life to deserve this. That was Columbus's only thought as he stood back up again and looked around, then started walking quickly through the brambles again. He had to keep moving... It would end somewhere. He only hoped that Tallahassee had gotten away or shot the zombie. Until then, the bitter chill of fear set in below his stomach and wrapped its fingers around his bones.

There. What was that? A small noise.. Columbus shied away and veered away from the straight path he had been walking. He kept going.. And going... And then, there, dead ahead of him there was more movement.

A pair of glowing eyes stared at him from behind a veil of leaves. The next sound he heard was a hiss and spit, and he took off again in the other direction.

Columbus knew what this was.. Right here.. This was hell. Pure and simple. That hadn't been Tallahassee in the beginning that scared him. That had been a zombie that really had killed him, and now he had been sent straight to hell. He would spend the rest of his eternity here. Probably for killing Bill Murray. Stupid.. stupid reflexes.

Finally.. Columbus could see the glint of gun metal grey above the treetops instead of sable night. Morning was taking its time in getting here, but it was coming.

But he wasn't out of the woods yet.

Not in either sense of the phrase.

A small, fearful noise escaped his throat, and he continued looking up. He was so screwed. Columbus knew this. He ws lost.. Morning was only just coming now.. He had no idea how or which way would bring him back to Tallahassee.

A tear might have worked itself out of his eye as the hopelessness set in. Just a small one, that quickly dripped off his chin and fell onto his sweatshirt.

A few more minutes of just standing there... And just as sudden as the first encounter of his night from hell, a hand was on his shoulder, gentle and warm.

"There ya are, spit-fuck."

The tension just melted out of his bones at that gravelly voice, and his knees buckled. The partner to that hand helped support him, then lift him up gently. Columbus could see it in the other man's features as he held him... that.. that he really had been afraid too.

It was nice to know he wasn't the only one who felt fear.

Really nice.

"I think you dropped this.." A bottle of hand sanitizer was pressed into shakey, clammy fingers and Columbus nodded in thanks.

"Found it a while back.. Ya know.. For a little guy.. You leave one helluva an easy trail to follow." Tallahassee chuckled weakly, and Columbus half smiled.

"Its.. a talent?"

"Its why we're heading back now... yanno... I'mkindasorryforscaringyousobad."

"Tallahassee..." Columbus stared. Just stared. Eyes open, jaw dropped, stared. He even completely forgot about being in the woods for a moment.

"Did you just... apologize?"

"...no..."

"You did!"

"You've been in the woods too long... Let's go."

"I heard it!"

"Uh-huh..."

"Tallahassee..?"

"Yeah, crazy?"

"...You're forgiven."


	10. Fire

**Been a while.. Summer, School, and trying to get back in the mood. But here I am, and here we go...**

Sometimes, one finds themselves in unwanted situations. Sometimes, we are forced to do things we don't want to do, or don't like doing. Sometimes, out lives get so fucked up, the only sane bits we cling to would be considered insane by any other measures.

Tonight was going to be one of those nights. Columbus could tell already, and it was obvious to his partner he wasn't going to be a happy camper.

Pun intended.

The week had started simple some stores, check out some landmarks, clean the guns, make sure no hordes were in sight, yadda yadda..

And then Tallahassee declared it was deer hunting season.

Their week seemed to have gotten worse from there. Being woken up every morning at about 4:30 am wasn't doing well for Columbus, and neither was being dragged out into the middle of some woods (even with Tallahassee's assurance it was zombie free) to sit in a tree, with a runny nose, shivering in the cold, being told to stay quiet, for some animal they could find dead on the side of the road anyways.

Aaaand it was after two days of this Tallahassee declared they weren't in the spirit of it yet, and decided they should make a camp. Camp. With _tents_. And no running water. In the middle of the woods. So they could get better in tune with nature or some shit, to "think like the deer.. be the deer.. so we can shoot the deer's ass."

Columbus was on edge for a few reasons in this little camp... First off was the whole outside portion of it. Second off was all the diseases and the germs they were being exposed to. Third was the vulnerability of their location.

Somehow, Columbus forced himself past the first three.

The fourth reason.. he had a few more problems with. For reasons he didn't like to speculate on, he didn't like fire. Maybe it was because Ohio had burned to the ground, maybe he just didn't like.. Either way, every night, Tallahassee insisted on making the biggest bonfire he possibly could. Which was a violation of The Rules as it was, being bright and attractive, a zombie lure, but Columbus always put himself to bed early on those nights.

The snap and crackle of the fire.. The hiss as sap boiled from logs, the soft whoosh as logs gave out and the fire blazed brighter..

The thought that those tents could and would all too easily catch fire and burn down around them, bringing them to a painful, slow, and probably agonizing death was present in his mind. Sighing, Columbus rolled over, from one side of his sleeping bag to the other. Sleep was hard enough to come by. Even harder with being woken up so early for Tallahassee's "hunting season". But it was impossible with the fear the fire could kill them in the night.

Eventually, Tallahassee pieced it together. And that night, he didn't make his usual bonfire. Curious as to what was different on this night, Columbus allowed himself to stay up a little later. One crazy redneck's grin later, and he found himself being convinced to roast a marshamallow.

Sure.. It was cold as hell. Or rather, cold as the inverse of Hell.. but sitting by the fire, quiet, meticulously watching his marshmallow as it reached the pinnacle of golden brown toasted perfection, Tallahassee next to him wondering out loud what a s'more'd twinkie would taste like, Columbus found himself smiling warmly.

And later, after he had stuffed himself full of chocolately, marshmallowed, graham cracker goodness, a few thoughts occured to his barely awake mind.

He'd never made s'mores homemade over a fire like this before.. and it had been fun.. He'd never even really sat around just a good ol' campfire either.

Columbus figured that it started to make small fires okay in his book.


	11. Dolls

Columbus was thankful Tallahassee knew enough about weather to get them to a town just before the dark clouds unleashed their arsenal of hail upon them.

The were lucky to have even reached a town, but Columbus would have preferred one that had more than one house left standing and undamaged. The previous owner (He thinks. The rotted meat lump is wearing old lady clothes, and there are the type of puffy white flowers in flower beds around the porch that old ladies enjoy, and so shoot him for stereotyping.) is rotting in the driveway, and probably won't mind them making use of her home.

As they head inside, Columbus has to wonder why this is the only place left standing. Tallahassee called dibs on clearing the house of any possible zombie cling-on parties, and practically skipped out of the kitchen, leaving him behind in the kitchen. Well.. Skipping as far as Tallahassee skips, which is more of a growling-serious-manly-stalk. But who cares really?

Columbus doesn't bother with checking the rest of the house. Tallahassee's already on it, and he's got food to sort through. After a while, he comes up with several type of boxed dinners that look like they might actually have some flavor left in them. He thinks is Christmas all over again when he finds some canned ravioli.

"The place is clear," Tallahassee calls out from the other room, not bothering to hide the disappointment in his voice.

"Remember, that's a g-good.. Th-thing.." Columbus stutters to a halt as he steps into the living room for the first time. On the mantle, the table, in special display cases, on shelves.. Everywhere.. All staring at him with the same creepy, empty eyes.

Dolls.

Columbus's eyes widen a fraction and he tenses, creeped out by the dolls beyond measure already. Swallowing nervously, his fear mingling with the saliva in his mouth on its way to form a cold pit in his stomach, he looks around.

"Right." Tallahassee rubs his face and flops out in a chair. Columbus stared at the dolls some more. In no time, Tallahassee was fast asleep, napping in a chair.

By this point, he knew better than to ask about the pile of dolls that were heaped up next to the rotting meat in the driveway when he woke up.


End file.
