AUs - Postapokalypse (für's Team)

[servena]

Titel: Sanctuary
Team: Serenity
Challenge: AUs - Postapokalypse (für's Team)
Fandom: Teen Wolf / The Walking Dead (@rei17 Für letzteres bräuchte ich noch nen Tag! :))
Charaktere: Erica, Isaac, Boyd
Sprache: Englisch
Wörter: 400
Kommentar: Postapokalypse geht immer.

They figure out the thing with the zombie bites pretty quickly.

Sanctuary

They figure out the thing with the zombie bites pretty quickly.
Because they’re werewolves, and they’re teenagers, so taking stupid risks is practically in their DNA.
Waiting for a wound to heal has never taken so long. Because you never know.
“Derek said so”, Boyd says after, as he hands Isaac a new shirt from his backpack. “He said we’d be fine.”
“Yeah, but it’s Derek”, she says.
Even after, they watch Isaac like a hawk for almost a week. He thinks they’re ridiculous.
But you never know. And they can’t lose him.
Still, things could be worse. At day the raid the warehouses and cellars the rest of the survivors don’t dare to enter. This is a lot easier when you know which doors not to open.
They cook dinner over an open fire, tins with meat and ravioli. Sometimes they find something exotic like pumpkin soup.
And when that gets boring, they hunt. Mostly rabbits, but the longer time goes on, the more deer wander back into the settlements. And there’s no thrill like hunting as a pack.
At night they sleep in a pile in abandoned houses or in vans parked on the side of the road.
They don’t post a guard. They don’t need to.
They don’t drive a car, since finding the fuel isn’t worth the hassle. Also, none of them have their driver’s license, and now they probably never will. Not that anybody would check.
They prefer walking under the open sky. Unless the rain drenches Erica’s favorite jacket.
Around them, the world gets violent, and they’re three teenagers with backpacks full of goods.
But, “The best weapons are those you always have with you”, Erica likes to say when she shows her teeth. And people don’t make the same mistake twice. (Usually.)

“How many walkers have you killed?”, a man asks when they stumble on a sanctuary, all high walls and careful people.
“Who’s still counting?”, Erica asks back.
“How many people have you killed?”
“None.”
“But you whacked that guy in the last town pretty hard.”
“He tried to take my backpack! And I’d just found a new lipstick!”

They don’t know if they passed the test, and it doesn’t matter.
It’s a long walk back to California. But they’ll get there.
And they don’t need a sanctuary. They have each other.