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The Trillhouse SinThology	By : Trillhouse Category: +G through L > The Loud House Views: 4586 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Loud House, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
This one requires some explanation. A while back, some content creators within the fandom were playing around with the concept of a zombie survival AU. As you would expect, the scenario involves the kids, led by Lyra, trying to survive in a post-outbreak world as they search for their remaining family... not to mention civilization, if such a thing even exists anymore. I'm not normally a fan of AUs such as these, but I AM a fan of making people very sad.
But there's an even darker side to all this. In the new world, the undead are far from the greatest threat: it's the survivors you need to watch out for. In the post-outbreak world many have become desperate, willing to do whatever must be done to survive... no matter what. The kids are no different. Under the increasingly brutal leadership of Lyra, even the most kind-hearted among them have become cold and hardened. They've lost too much not to. They've been scarred, many in both senses of the term, and young Bobby Loud is no different. His body, horribly burnt and disfigured. His mind, fractured perhaps beyond repair. His trauma has left him unstable, delusional, and, perhaps worst of all, unpredictable.
Keep in mind that, while I've rearranged these into chronological order, this is far from a complete story. These were all shorts, after all, so there will be gaps in events, not to mention a lack of any sort of conclusion. Perhaps I'll return to this setting, possibly even in a long-form story. But for now:
Well... I'd say 'please enjoy', but let's face it. The zombieverse is not meant to be 'enjoyed.'

Never Again

"Watch your back."
"Yeah, yeah, I got it," Lemy muttered. He tugged his hatchet from the now-dead zombie before him and wheeled around, burying it in the head of the one creeping up behind him. He'd known it was there, of course… between the slow movement and groaning, it was hard NOT to. "You could have helped, you know." He glared at his sister, who was sitting nonchalantly on one of the cafeteria tables and watching with disinterest. Lupa simply shrugged.
"You had it under control." She said flatly. "Besides, if worst comes to worst, I figure you'd make a pretty good zombie." Lemy rolled his eyes and got to work dispatching the last few undead. Lupa had to admit, he'd gotten quite good at dealing with the horde in the three months since the outbreak began… quite frankly, she'd never have expected it from the bumbling metalhead. Then again, she supposed the outbreak had changed all of them in one way or another.
"I think that's the last of them," Lemy said as he wiped the sweat from his brow. They had gotten lucky; the school was not nearly as overrun as they would have expected. Judging by the number of bodies strewn about, he could only assume the survivors that had been holed up there before managed to kill a good chunk of the horde before being overwhelmed.
"Took you long enough." Lupa said with a huff, hopping down from the table. "C'mon. Let's check the kitchen." Lemy nodded, wearing a deep frown as he took one last glance around the cafeteria. It felt weird, seeing it like this… he could only think of how things used to be. He'd never liked school, but now he would give anything to go back to the daily grind. He really wished that Lyra had picked someone else to search Royal Woods Elementary for supplies, but it wasn't like he had any say in the matter.
"Lemy. Come on." Lupa repeated.
"R-right…" Lemy sighed, holstering his axe and following his sister into the kitchen. "Don't know why we're bothering… this shit is barely food."
"Can't be picky," Said the goth. "Just look for canned stuff. Anything non-perishable."
"I know what to do, Lupa." Lemy scoffed. The two siblings gathered food in silence. It was sad that so many survivors had fallen here… they'd even spotted more than a few familiar faces amongst the dead. But that also meant that the school was still rich in supplies, which would no doubt please Lyra.
"Guess that's everything…" Lupa muttered, giving her satchel a little shake.
"Too bad it's mostly beans though…" Lemy grumbled. "Looks like we're getting hotboxed again tonight." His sister let out a small chuckle; as they'd learned over the past few months, a large group plus small quarters plus beans meant they were in for a bad time. The two made their way back out to the cafeteria.
"So, where to ne-" Lupa froze mid-stride, her eyes going wide. She sniffed at the air like a bloodhound, then her attention snapped to one of the dead zombies sprawled out on the floor.
"Lu'…? You alright?" Lupa bolted right towards it, immediately dropping to her knees and fishing through the corpse's pockets. She barely suppressed a squeal of delight as she found her prize: a carton of cigarettes. She flicked it open, finding that it was still mostly full.
"Yessss."
"For fuck's sake, Lupa…" Her brother groaned. "You're really gonna take that off a zombie? It's probably, like… contaminated or somethin'. And y'know Lyra doesn't want you smoking."
"I'll risk it. And Lyra can bite my freckled ass, I need this." She wasted no time putting one of the cigs in her mouth and lighting it, taking a long drag. "Fuck yeah… that hits the spot," She moaned as she blew a large plume of smoke.
"Alright, alright… c'mon. Let's get moving." Lemy grunted with a roll of his eyes. "Pretty sure we've checked everywhere worth looking. Besides, we can't carry much more."
"We haven't checked the sports fields." Lupa said. "I bet the equipment shed has plenty of shit we can use."
"Good thinking," Lemy agreed. Baseball bats made for excellent weapons, and even hockey sticks and the like could be useful once he'd modified them a bit. As they walked through the empty school halls. Lemy couldn't help but glance at his sister. On the surface, she didn't seem to have changed much… she was still the deadpan, morose girl he'd always known. She even still cracked the occasional morbid joke. Perhaps it was due to how many zombie films she'd watched over the years, or maybe it was because she'd never cared much for the world in the first place. Still, Lemy knew her well, and he could tell that underneath her disinterested façade she had become a far colder person than she had been. She was one of the few to not question Lyra's increasingly severe orders, after all.
The school grounds were mostly free of zombies; or at least, they were too far away for the two to worry about right now. They hurried towards the equipment shack and found that, thankfully, the lock had already been busted open. Lupa drew her handgun.
"Keep your eyes peeled… someone may still be hiding in here." The goth warned. "Remember-"
"Trust no one. I know, Lupa." Lemy said. They slipped inside, glancing around with their weapons at the ready. Empty. With a sigh of relief, they holstered their weapons and began the search.
"Shit… this is a fucking treasure trove," Lupa muttered. Indeed, there were plenty of supplies… far more than they could hope to carry. There were bats, hockey sticks, and even bundles of rope; hell, even the football gear could make for some excellent protection against zombie and human alike.
Then, while Lemy was searching one of the equipment lockers, he heard it: the familiar groan of a zombie, accompanied by a metallic banging... and it was close. Lemy quickly drew his axe and turned, only to find nothing there. The boy's eyes narrowed as he scanned for the source of the noise, before realizing it was coming from another nearby locker. Judging from the specks of blood leading to it, it was clear what had happened… some poor bastard must have been wounded and hid in the locker, only to perish and ultimately turn into a zombie. In any case, it didn't seem that it could get out. Lemy frowned. He could leave well enough alone, but he couldn't help but feel sorry for the creature. He wondered if they were truly as brain-dead as they appeared, or if, perhaps, at some level they were aware of their plight. It was a thought that had haunted him since the outbreak began.
The boy sighed, tightening his grip on his hatchet. He knew it wasn't worth risking it, but he figured he should end its suffering… besides, it was only one. He could handle it, no problem. Lemy readied his axe, carefully reaching for the door handle. He took a deep breath to focus himself. At this distance, he had to make sure he hit his mark. Without further hesitation, he threw open the door and swung down his axe…
…Only to freeze mid-swing.
Lemy's blood ran cold, his eyes widening at the disheveled creature before him: dark, mottled skin. Dreadlocks tied back into a messy ponytail. Dead eyes, and a visible bite mark on his forearm.
It was Gordon… his best friend
He'd gotten himself wedged in the narrow locker, and grasped in vain at the meal standing before him. Even as the horrible thing's fingertips grazed his nose, Lemy remained frozen in horror. He'd always known that his friend could very well have died, but to see it himself was too much for him to handle; he looked fresh, too. He couldn't have turned more than a few days ago. If only they'd checked the school earlier, Lemy could have saved him.
Finally, 'Gordon's' struggles bore fruit and it began to slip free from its prison. Still, Lemy didn't move. Nor did he move when his former friend grabbed him, nor when it bared its teeth and lurched forward. The zombie's teeth were barely an inch away from the boy when a single gunshot rang out. Dark blood splattered against Lemy's face and the creature fell to the ground; thankfully, none landed in his open mouth. Lemy stared down at his fallen friend in silence, then glanced to the other end of the shack.
Lupa stood with her pistol in her hand, a faint wisp of smoke drifting from the barrel. She had a wild look in her eyes, and Lemy couldn't tell if she was angry or scared… both, perhaps. Her glare snapped from the dead zombie to her blood-spattered brother.
"What the fuck are you doing?!" She hissed. Lemy didn't answer; he simply glanced back down at his closest friend, or at least what used to be his closest friend.
"G-Gordon…" He stammered. Lupa's teeth clenched in rage and she strode over to her brother, grabbing him by the wrist.
"We need to go," She snarled. "Every zombie on the grounds will have heard that."
"I-"
"Come on!" Lupa snapped, forcefully dragging the shaken boy out of the shed. Sure enough, a large number of zombies had begun advancing towards the building. "Shit…" Lupa hissed. She broke into a run, pulling Lemy behind her. He was still in a daze, and blindly followed, not even reacting as they narrowly slipped between several zombies. By the time they'd gotten a safe distance away, they were both out of breath and dripping with sweat. Lemy leant against a tree, letting his pounding heart settle a bit. He glanced up at Lupa, only to immediately be met with a hard slap across his face.
"What is wrong with you?!" The girl was quaking with rage, her hazel eyes piercing through him like never before. Lemy rubbed his stinging cheek and averted his eyes from his sister.
"I-it was Gor-" Lemy was cut off by another slap, to his right cheek this time.
"It was a zombie!" Lupa screamed. "He was dead, Lemy! That thing was not your friend!" Lemy's face scrunched up in shame. "You… you just stood there… you nearly died, you fucking idiot!"
"I-I didn't-"
"We can't hesitate, Lemy! We can't have mercy! Don't you understand that?!" Lupa's voice was growing unsteady. "W-we can't…! We can't end up like…" She trailed off, her face twisting in pain. "…Like dad. Not… not you too." Lemy winced. He'd never seen Lupa so furious before, and he knew she was right… he'd let his emotions get the better of him. If she hadn't been there, that would have been it for him. He forced himself to look at his sister; she was staring off to the side, her eyes clearly glistening with tears. For someone like Lupa, who closed herself off to even her closest siblings, it was an unprecedented sight. Lemy felt a pit in his stomach.
Slowly, he reached out and hugged the girl. For the first time he could recall, she didn't try to pull away, though she didn't return it either.
"I'm sorry." He said quietly. "It… it won't happen again." Lupa simply sniffed and nodded.
"…It better not." She muttered, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "Let's go."
"…Yeah." Lemy said as he let go of his sister. There was an uncomfortable silence between the two as they made their way back to the safehouse. Lemy couldn't help but notice that Lupa kept one hand on her gun the entire time; thankfully, she didn't need to use it. The two paused for a moment outside the convenience store. "…Lupa," Lemy said. "I really am sorry. I-"
"It's fine." Lupa sighed. "Sorry I hit you."
"You hit me all the time, though." That one earned him a small chuckle from the girl.
"Well… you know." She said with a shrug. "Anyway, I won't tell Lyra this time. This time." Lupa warned. Lemy swallowed and nodded.
"Like I said…" Lemy assured her as he knocked on the door: three solid thumps followed by two lighter ones, as was their code. "Never again."

Threat Incapacitated

It had been nearly a year since the outbreak. It had come suddenly, without warning… those in high-density areas, particularly those living in cities, had suffered the most casualties. One or two zombie s were no problem… hell, even a group of them provided little issue, unless you were some sort of idiot. But in large numbers? That was a different matter. All it took was one bite, and you were fucked.
But Bryson was one of the lucky ones. For the first time, he had been glad to live in the outskirts of the city… as soon as the scope of the outbreak became clear, he had wasted no time in gathering supplies and fleeing. While many had opted to flee towards other cities for protection, Bryson had a different plan: stay off the grid. Keep to rural wooded areas where there would be less people and, therefore, less zombies. Which isn't to say he hadn't run into problems along the way. As bad as the zombie s were, the real threat were other survivors. Many had become desperate for survival, willingly killing and stealing from others without hesitation. Others were far more reasonable, but unfortunately for them Bryson fell into the former category. He was more than willing to earn a group's trust and then, when they least expected it, butcher them without mercy. He knew this was harsh, but it was the only reason he had been able to survive thus far. Besides, he'd always been a loner.
Bryson was not a particularly strong man, but he was clever, deceptive and, above all else, patient. He always waited until the time was right before making his move. And now, he had discovered quite possibly his greatest find yet: a car. An honest to God, fully functional car. Once again, fortune had shined upon the middle-aged man. That said, there was a small issue… a very small issue, in fact. Bryson was not the first person here: a young boy made his way in and out of the auto repair shop, carrying out supplies and packing them into the car. He would be easy enough to deal with, of course, but for all Bryson knew there could be more survivors inside… hell, he'd bet his life on it. He couldn't have been more than eight or nine years old; surely there was no way such a young child could have survived this long on his own.
The most unusual thing, however, was the boy's appearance. He wore a white helmet that even at a distance Bryson could tell was little more than a toy, topped with a red beacon and two antennae-like protrusions. It looked like he had a bandolier of some sort strapped across his torso, and perhaps most notably the entire right side of his body looked… wrong, to say the least. It was red and heavily scarred… perhaps he'd been burned. Either way, Bryson didn't care. He wouldn't make a move until he knew just what he was dealing with. He waited until the boy went inside again, then quickly bolted towards the building. He had gotten used to moving both quickly and quietly, and he was able to dart around the side of the building without being seen. He crept his way along to the back, looking for any way to get a handle on the situation.
His answer came in the form of a row of windows along the back wall. They were high up, perhaps fifteen feet or so, but once again lady luck favored the man: amongst the wood pallets and dumpster were several empty oil drums and a decommissioned vending machine that, combined with his considerable height, would be just enough for him to peek through the windows. Even empty the oil drum was quite heavy, but he couldn't risk dragging it across the concrete… that would make far too much noise. He gently set it beside the vending machine and carefully climbed onto it. He nearly lost his footing, but was able to grab onto the vending machine for support just in the nick of time.
He let out a grunt of effort as he climbed atop the vending machine, then got to his feet and looked through the window. To his relief, there was nobody else inside… a car had been left on one of the lifts, no doubt abandoned mid-service as the mechanics fled for their lives. And now, with the boy struggling with a particularly heavy box of supplies, Bryson figured it was time to make his move.
Bryson darted around to the front of the building, ducking down behind the car and out of the boy's line of sight. Thankfully, the door had been left unlocked, and his face fell slightly as he looked inside. Though the key had been left in the ignition, there was a box strapped onto the seat and what looked to be makeshift wooden leg extensions secured to the gas and brake pedal. He could only assume that the boy had crafted these as a way to actually drive the car, given his short stature. Bryson cursed under his breath; he'd have to remove them before he could make use of the car.
"Wh-who are you?" Bryson bolted upright, quickly drawing his handgun and aiming it at the intruder. It was the boy, of course… he stood a distance away, trembling and glaring right at the man. Now that he had a closer look, it was clear just how fucked up the kid actually was. Even mostly concealed by his tattered clothing, Bryson could tell that the entire right side of his body was severely burned. The crazed look in his exposed left eye left no doubt that this boy had seen some shit. "I-I said, who are you?!" The boy repeated in a demanding tone, apparently unfazed by the gun pointed at his head. "State your name, rank a-and assigned s-s-starship." Bryson cocked an eyebrow.
"The hell you on about, kid…?"
"Are y-you not with Starfleet?" The boy asked. The man's brow furrowed as he realized that the bizarre child before him was completely out of his mind. He let out a short laugh and holstered his weapon.
"…Yeah. Yeah, I am. And you are…?" He asked, figuring it best to play along with the child's nonsense for now. Besides… he had to admit it was pretty amusing.
"I-I am Second Officer Robert Loud o-of the Starship Epsilon," The boy stated. Bryson smirked. The boy had fallen right into his trap, introducing himself first so he would know the proper means of doing so. "N-now, I won't say it again," Bobby said, "State y-your name, rand a-and assigned starship!"
"Right, sorry. I'm… Captain Bryson Howard of the Starship… Detroit." Bryson said. "At ease." Bobby's eyebrow raised slightly in surprise.
"I… I have not heard of a starship by that name…" The troubled boy mumbled.
"We're, uh… we're new." Bryson said with a dismissive wave of his hand. Bobby frowned and gave a small nod.
"I-I see. My apologies, captain… one cannot be too careful in this hostile world." He said. "It would seem much h-has changed in my a-absence. A-are you s-stranded here as well?"
"Er… yeah… crashed here a few months ago. Damnedest thing." Bryson muttered. "Pretty nice ride you got here, Robert." He added, resting a hand on the car.
"…Yes, finding a craft in such condition was fortuitous indeed," Said Bobby.
"I'll bet. Anyway, I'm afraid I'm going to be… commandeering this vessel," The man said with a smirk. Bobby frowned.
"I c-cannot let you do that," The boy said. "I have need of it. You are more than welcome to a-a-accompany me if you wish, but I will not relinquish o-ownership to you."
"Yeah, see, that's kind of a problem… I'm something of a loner, you see." Bryson sneered. "And I'm a captain. That means you gotta do what I say." Bobby narrowed his eye.
"…Tell me, captain." Bobby's tone grew stern. "What is your serial number?" Bryson sighed.
"Uh… 90210. Satisfied?" He scoffed. Bobby's suspicious expression suddenly shifted to a furious glare; he quickly drew the toy gun from his thigh and aimed it right at the man before him.
"That is not a valid Starfleet s-serial number," Bobby hissed. "Y-you're one of THEM, aren't you?! A r-r-reptilian!"
"Well shit, ya got me." Bryson chuckled, shrugging in defeat. "Either way, I'm taking this… so be a good little boy and fuck off, alright?" But Bobby didn't budge; he flicked a small switch on the side of the toy, not taking his eye off the man for a second.
"Ph-phaser set to stun…" The boy muttered. "Step away from the craft. You have five seconds to comply." Bryson simply let out a loud, booming laugh. "…Four seconds." Bobby said.
"Uh oh, looks like someone's pissed." Bryson laughed. "What ever will I do?"
"Three seconds."
"Ooohhh, please, officer! Don't shoot!" Bryson pleaded, holding up his hands in mock fear.
"Two seconds." Bobby said, ignoring the man's taunts. Bryson rolled his eyes; quite frankly, he'd played around more than enough. Now the shtick was just getting old.
"Alright, fuck it," The man huffed, reaching for his pistol. The kid was living on borrowed time as it was… may as well speed things along, right? But no sooner had his fingers touched the gun than a shot rang out, and Bryson felt a sharp pain in the left side of his chest. He looked down to see a red spot spreading across his shirt… he'd been shot. "Th-the fuck…?!" He wheezed, his punctured lung beginning to fill with blood.
Bryson looked up to see Bobby standing there with his gun in hand, a faint wisp of smoke billowing from the barrel… and then, he spotted it. Jutting out slightly from the funnel-shaped opening was the barrel of a handgun. It wasn't a toy at all. Bobby lowered the gun slightly and pulled the trigger again; Bryson cried out in pain as the next bullet pierced straight through his knee, dropping him to the ground.
"Shit…!" The man hissed, quickly reaching for his gun again, but a third shot blew off half his hand. He screamed in agony, coughing up blood from his collapsed lung.
"S-s-subject would not comply," He heard Bobby say. He looked up to find the boy walking towards, him, seemingly unfazed by what he was doing… he simply stared down at the man with the same thousand-yard gaze as before. He raised the gun again, this time pointing directly at Bryson's head. The man's eyes went wide with horror. "…Use of non-lethal force d-deemed necessary."
"N-NO, PLE-" Bryson was silenced by a single shot through the forehead, spattering Bobby's shirt and face with blood. He didn't seem to notice, or care… he simply watched with a stoic expression as the man slumped over, dead.
"…Threat has b-been incapacitated." Bobby muttered. Then, Bryson's body twitched; the child let out a frightened yelp and emptied the rest of the clip into the dead man's head, reducing it to little more than a scrambled mess of blood, flesh and chunks of brain. He stood breathing heavily as the body finally went still. Bobby swallowed, taking a moment to compose himself before fishing out his tape recorder from his pocket. "O-officer's Log… s-s-stardate 4503.2. Encountered a hostile native of th-this world… use of non-lethal f-force was deemed necessary. An entire p-power cell was needed to stun target… either reptilians have g-grown resistant to nadion particles, or my ph-phaser is in need of re-calibration. For now, I am resuming the mission. S-second Officer Robert Loud, signing off." Bobby stopped recording and looked down at the corpse lying before him. "D-do not worry… the immobilization should w-wear off within the hour."
And with that, Bobby resumed loading his supplies into the car. It didn't register within Bobby's mind at all that he had just brutally killed a man: all he saw lying there was a stunned reptilian. He didn't notice that the man's body had begun to attract flies, nor the giant pool of blood spreading out from beneath it… not even when he stepped through the puddle as he got into the car. After all, he was a proud officer of Starfleet… he would never use lethal force unless there was absolutely no other option.
Bobby got into the car, strapping himself into his self-made 'piloting frame'. He turned the key and, once the engine had revved to life, drove off; after all, he couldn't waste any more time than he already had.
The mothership was out there somewhere, waiting for him.

Reminders

Lyra wore a cold expression as she looked down at the corpse lying before her. It was a young girl, at least as young as Lyra herself if not younger. Lyra had put her down herself with a single shot to the forehead… a quick and painless death, not that it made her feel any better about it. She was used to pleas for mercy, but usually for one's own life; this girl, however, had begged for the lives of the rest of her group instead. Of course, it had been too late… they'd already dealt with the others by then, or at least the ones they'd found thus far. Still, the girl's selflessness had almost been enough for Lyra to consider sparing her…
…Almost.
It was harsh, but such was the nature of the new world. The family had to come first, no matter what. No exceptions. As much as each kill ate away at her, she had to put on a mask of stoicism for the sake of the others. Besides… this department store was far too good of a stronghold to pass up. They could easily hold out for a few months, at the very least.
"Damn, lookit all this shit!" Lemy exclaimed as he looked over the supplies the unfortunate survivors had gathered. "Pretty good haul, huh?"
"Lemy. Don't drop your guard." Lyra scolded. "There still might be others in hiding." Lemy frowned and nodded; she wasn't wrong. The department store was massive, and there could very well be stragglers lurking about.
"Right, so… should we have a look around?" Lemy asked. His older sister nodded.
"Lupa, come here." She ordered; Lupa came and joined by Lemy's side.
"'Sup, boss lady?" She asked nonchalantly. Lyra frowned, but figured there was little point in correcting the girl's informal demeanor.
"You two sweep the west side of the store." Lyra said. "…That's that way," She clarified for the sake of her younger brother.
"Got it." Without another word, the two were off, and Lyra turned towards the others.
"Loan, you and Lacy search the east side. And bring that... mutt of yours with you," She told Loan, gesturing dismissively to the young boy by her side. "Be sure to keep him on a short leash, you understand?"
"…Sure." Loan said with a scowl; she knew better than to snap at Lyra when she was on edge like this. "Come on, Bobby."
"Yes ma'am." The delusional boy said with a salute before following his two sisters east. Lyra sighed.
"Lyle, you find a high spot and keep an eye out for trouble. Liena, Liby, you two sort through the supplies… we need a handle on what we've got. Bed-" It was now that Lyra noticed her adopted cousin was already gone. In any case, she knew what her job was… same as ever. "…The rest of you set up a perimeter, just in case anyone tries to get the jump on us." Her siblings voiced their understanding before heading off to their respective tasks.
"What about me...?" A small voice asked from nearby; it was Lizy, of course. Lyra offered her a gentle smile and beckoned her over.
"Come here, Lizy. Stay close to me." She said. Lizy nodded and walked to her big sister's side. She clung to her Lyra's pant leg and stared at the corpse before her in fear. Among all her siblings, Lizy was the one that Lyra felt the worst about… she was far too young and innocent to be exposed to such a cruel world. Lulu was a baby, yes, but she was also a… whatever she was. And, unlike Lizy, she seemed more than comfortable with the carnage that surrounded her. "Lizy…" Lyra said softly, kneeling down and placing a hand on the little girl's shoulder. "You remember what I told you, right?" Lizy swallowed and nodded before closing her remaining eye.
"D-don't look."
"Good girl." Lyra gently ruffled Lizy's hair, earning a giggle from the young girl. "And don't be afraid. She's not going to come back."
"…Okay." Lizy said. Lyra began to search the girl's body, finding some medical supplies, a few protein bars, and a holstered knife concealed beneath her jacket; the latter only further reinforced that killing her had been the right choice. Granted, the knife could very well have been intended for non-violent purposes, but that wasn't a chance she was willing to take.
"Lizy, are you hungry?" Lyra asked. Lizy's face lit up and she gave an eager nod. Her big sister smiled and gave her one of the protein bars.
"Thank you, Lyra!" Lizy said cheerfully before tearing open the foil and ravenously devouring the protein bar. She hated these things, but right now she was too hungry to care. Food was sparse in the post-outbreak world, and even the most bland and unpleasant sustenance was better than nothing at all. As for the rest of the bars, they would be rationed out just like everything else… even with their newfound stockpile, they couldn't afford to be careless with their food.
Then, a loud scream of agony rang out from the east end of the store, drawing the attention of Lyra and the others. It sounded like a boy's voice, but not Bobby's… she could only assume that they had found a survivor and dealt with them as instructed. Lyra let out a sigh as she returned to the task at hand. Besides the knife, there was little the girl had to offer. She had a wallet, but of course money was useless now. There was, however, a photo of the girl smiling with an older man and woman… her parents, perhaps. Lyra frowned as she looked at the picture. Despite everything, she could never forget that those they killed had been ordinary people, once. People with lives, families, and aspirations. Silently, she withdrew the photo from the wallet and slid it into her pocket. She'd been keeping these whenever she found them… she wasn't sure why. Perhaps as a reminder so that, should they ever find civilization, she would never forget the things she'd done to get there. Only then would there be time for remorse.
Lyra unstrapped the knife from the corpse and looked it over. It was a bit on the small side… again, most likely for utility purposes than for combat. Still, it could be an effective weapon in a pinch.
"…Lizy."
"Yeth?" Lizy mumbled through a mouthful of food. Lyra chuckled and tightened the strap as much as she could.
"Here," She said as she slipped the holster over the little girl's torso. "Just in case you ever need to defend your-" Lyra began, but the holster immediately slid off Lizy's tiny frame and fell to the ground. "Er… we'll have one of the others fix that later." Lyra muttered. "Anyway, should you ever need to defend yourself, it's best that you have a weapon of your own." Lizy swallowed the rest of the protein bar before picking up the holster and drawing the knife, looking it over.
"Wow…" Lizy grinned and made a few practice thrusts like a fencer. "Yah, yah!"
"Lizy." Lyra scolded, gently grabbing the girl's wrist. "A weapon is not a toy." Her little sister frowned and nodded sadly.
"Sorry, Lyra…" Lizy said sheepishly, putting the knife back in its sheath. Lyra took a deep breath before exhaling.
"…It's okay. I'll teach you how and when to use it later." Lyra assured her. She got to her feet, looking towards the other bodies strewn about; they would all need to be searched, of course. The brunt of them were in far worse condition than the girl was, and quite frankly the last thing Lyra wanted was for Lizy to be exposed to more than she had to. "Tell you what, Lizy. How would you like to help Libyand Liena? I bet they could use an extra pair of hands."
"Sure!" Lizy said cheerfully, apparently delighted by the opportunity to help out for a change. Lyra smirked and offered the girl her hand, which she gladly accepted. As she led Lizy towards their two older sisters, Lyra couldn't help but look back at the dead girl slumped over on the ground. It wasn't easy, doing the things they did… and she certainly had her doubts, even if she never showed them. But the little girl clutching her hand served as a reminder of why things had to be this way. They had to survive not only for Lizy's sake, but for the sake of the others as well.
Even if she had to become a monster to do it.

I Remember

"Keep an eye out, Bobby." Loan warned as they searched the aisles for survivors with Lacy in tow. "Be on your guard."
"I'm a-always on my guard, Commander." Bobby replied. "…But thank you for your concern." The woman frowned and nodded. Bobby wasn't sure why his superior was always so worried about him… he was a second officer, after all. He'd hoped that he would have proven himself capable by now.
"D'you think there's anyone left…?" Lacy asked.
"Reptilians are adept at h-hiding, Officer… often in plain sight." Bobby said, narrowing his good eye. "…And often closer than you think."
"R-right… I'll, uh, keep that in mind." Lacy stammered.
"Y-you would do well to. Be wary of everyone… even me."
"Alright, enough of that." Loan groaned. "We're looking for survivors, remember. Keep your voices down."
"…My apologies, Commander." Bobby said quietly, flipping up his visor to better keep watch over his surroundings. He kept his 'phaser' at the ready as he and his sisters searched the aisles one after another. The structure was unusual, to say the least… the others seemed to think it was a store of some sort, but Bobby wasn't so sure. Such an excessive marketplace seemed unusual for a barbaric species like the reptilians, but then again there was much about the race that he had yet to understand. Their hostile nature made it difficult to study them, but if they could mimic humans so convincingly it stood to reason they had some manner of culture.
Bobby froze in place as he heard something: some sort of faint metallic clunk from somewhere nearby. He turned to search for the source of the noise. It was then that he noticed a door on the back wall, hanging slightly ajar… he mentally cursed himself for not having noticed it before. He and the others had been so focused on the aisles that they hadn't thought to check along the wall. His sisters didn't seem to notice the sound either, as they kept walking onwards. Bobby was about to call after them, but he stopped himself; neither of the two were equipped with a phaser. The most they could do was beat the creature to death, but Bobby's method was far more humane. He could harmlessly stun it and remove it from the premises. Yes… it would be best for him to handle the matter himself.
Bobby strode to the door and paused outside it, listening through the gap to see if he could hear anything. It was silent. He carefully pushed the door open. It seemed to be a stockroom of some sort; there were dozens upon dozens of mostly cleared-out shelves, as well as several empty crates lining one corner. As he took another step inside, his foot touched something and it rolled away, making a sound similar to the one he had heard. It was a can; it must have been knocked over somehow…or by someone. Bobby tightly gripped his phaser as he slowly crept through the. The empty shelves granted a clear view of his surroundings, but one could never be too careful… the craftiness of reptilians was not to be underestimated.
"O-oh God, oh God, oh God…" A whisper. Bobby's focus snapped towards a row of crates and he raised his phaser.
"S-show yourself!" Bobby ordered. No response; the voice had stopped. "Show yourself!" He barked again.
"O-okay! Don't shoot, I-I don't have a weapon or nothin'…!" A young voice said. A moment later, a boy slowly rose up from behind the crate with his hands up. He looked to be about Bobby's age, but taller... nonetheless, he was trembling with fear. "P-please…"
"…Are you with Starfleet?" Bobby asked, not dropping his guard for a second.
"W-what?"
"Are you with starfleet?!" Bobby asked again. The boy let out a yelp of fear and cowered against the wall.
"I-I don't know! I don't know, j-j-just please, don't kill me!" He whimpered. Bobby frowned, his trigger finger relaxing slightly. Not knowing of Starfleet was never a good sign, but the boy was clearly terrified… perhaps he was not a hostile after all.
"…State y-your name."
"H-Hayden…" The boy muttered. Bobby furrowed his brow; something about that name struck a chord with him.
"Are you one of them?"
"Th-them…?" He asked, clearly confused.
"A reptilian." Bobby spat. "A-a-are you one of them?"
"N-no, I'm just an ordinary kid, just like you." Hayden said; he had no idea what the heck a 'reptilian' was, but right now he didn't really care. His eyes flicked towards the barrel of Bobby's 'phaser' and he swallowed, noticing the very real handgun jutting out from it. "L-look… just put the gun down, okay…?"
"I will not," Bobby said plainly. "A-and I am not a kid. I am Second Officer Robert Loud o-o-of the Starship Epsilon."
"Right… sure, I got you. W-whatever you… wait. Loud?" The boy leaned forwards slightly, taking a closer look at his captor's face. "…Bobby? Bobby Loud?!" Bobby's eye narrowed.
"…You know of me?"
"Y-yeah…. It's me, remember?" Hayden said, a hopeful smile crossing his tear-stricken face. "From school…?"
"…From Starfleet Academy…?" Bobby muttered. Hayden gave an unsure nod, and he averted his eyes for a moment to think. The name had sounded familiar… and there was something about his face that seemed familiar, too.
Then, it all clicked into place. Hayden McCann, from Star… no. From elementary school. He knew this boy… quite well, in fact.
And he hated him.
"Yeah…" Bobby said quietly, his low and stoic affectation fading from his voice. "…I remember."
"Then-"
"I remember." He hissed, his expression twisting into a furious scowl as he strode forward, backing the larger boy against the wall. "I remember it all. Every time you forced me into my locker, stuffed me into the trash, dunked my head in the toilet… I remember all of it! Do you?!"
"B-Bobby, c'mon… that was just-"
"Oh, now I'm Bobby?!" The furious child snapped. "Now you know my name?! Or did you mean to call me 'Dobby' again?!" Hayden's eyes flicked around rapidly, looking for some means of escape, but there was none… Bobby had him cornered.
"I-I was just messing around-"
"Do you have any idea how it feels?! How I feel?!" Bobby pressed on. "Do you even care?!"
"Of course I do! A-and I'm sorry, okay?! I-I was a jerk, I'll admit it!" Hayden pleaded. "J-just… c'mon, buddy, y-you don't have to do this! Please don't shoot me… I swear, if you l-let me go you'll never see me again." The smaller boy glared at his former bully in silence, his nostrils flaring with anger. "Please…" After what felt like an eternity, Bobby scoffed and strapped his phaser to his leg.
"…I won't shoot you." Bobby muttered. Hayden's face lit up and he leaned away from the wall.
"Th-thank you…!" The bully gasped. "I-I promise-"
"P-people like you… aren't worth the ammo." Before Hayden could do anything to react, Bobby drew one of the knives from his bandolier and leapt forward with a cry of rage. He plunged his knife deep into the boy's chest and he let out a scream of agony as he fell to the ground with Bobby atop him. Bobby clasped his hand over Hayden's mouth to muffle his screams as he mercilessly stabbed the boy again and again, not stopping even long after he had stopped moving; it was only his knife snapping off in the boy's chest that ended his assault
Bobby remained on the dead child's chest, heart pounding and chest heaving with adrenaline. Hayden's eyes remained open, his face frozen in a mixture of terror and pain; as he looked down upon his former bully, Bobby could feel his senses slowly return to him. He looked down at the bloody handle clutched in his trembling hand in horror before tossing it aside. He had to brace himself against one of the shelves as he staggered to his feet.
"O-oh… oh no…" Bobby gasped. He'd killed someone. He'd killed someone who was begging for his life. He didn't know what had come over him. Bobby lurched forward and emptied his stomach's contents onto the floor… not that there was much to empty. "No… no no no…" The young boy whimpered, his mind reeling at what he'd just done. Bobby Loud was no killer. He was a good boy… a gentle boy. He'd never hurt someone, let alone kill them. He was a good boy. Not a killer. Bobby Loud was good and not a killer and not a monster and he didn't kill and he couldn't kill because Bobby Loud died in that fire and now there was only Officer Robert Loud and he would never kill and he hadn't killed…
…And then he was back. Officer Robert Loud took a deep breath and stood upright, his stoic demeanor returning in a matter of seconds. He wiped the blood from his visor and glanced down at the reptilian lying stunned upon the floor. Once again, he'd had no choice but to neutralize a hostile… non-lethally of course. He was, after all, a proud member of Starfleet and adhered strictly to the Prime Directive.
"Bobby!" Loan shouted as she burst into the room, Lacy following close behind. "Are you-" She froze as she spotted her little brother standing a short distance away, spattered head-to-toe with blood. Bobby stood at attention and saluted her.
"Commander." He said. "A-a-a hostile has been neutral-" He was cut off by Loan rushing forward and hugging him tightly.
"D-don't you ever run off like that again!"
"I-"
"Do you understand me, Bobby?!" Loan cried in a near panic.
"I-I'm sorry," Bobby stammered. "I heard a noise a-a-and I thought it best to investigate."
"…O-oh my God." Lacy gasped. Loan looked towards her, then followed her gaze to a sight that sent a chill down her spine: the mutilated corpse of a child. She looked back to Bobby with a horrified expression.
"Bobby… what happened..?"
"As you can see, I came across a hostile n-native of this world," The boy explained. "Negotiations were attempted, but I ultimately had no choice but to incapacitate him." Loan looked at the corpse again; there was no weapon. There was nothing to indicate that the boy was a threat. And not only had he been killed, he'd been brutalized… his entire chest had been mercilessly hacked to a bloody mess. "I-I apologize for acting of my own accord," Bobby said, snapping his sister's attention towards him. "…I will accept any punishment you d-d-deem fit."
"N-no… it's fine. Just… don't do it again." She said, to which Bobby bowed his head in acknowledgment. "Are… are you okay, though?" Bobby tilted his head slightly.
"Why wouldn't I be?"
Loan frowned, searching her brother's eyes for a moment before glancing over at Lacy. No words were spoken, but the look on Loan's face spoke volumes: 'Don't tell Lyra'. Lacy swallowed and nodded. They had all taken lives when ordered to do so… but this was different. This was brutal… deliberate. And if Lyra found out, there would be no reasoning with her.
"…Come on, Bobby." Loan said, getting to her feet and taking Bobby's hand. "Let's go."
"B-but if we don't remove the-"
"We'll deal with it later. Just… come on." She ordered. Bobby gave a reluctant nod, peeking over his shoulder at the body as his sister led him out. "Don't look," She said, giving his arm a gentle tug.
"Why-"
"Don't. Look." Loan said again. "A-and from now on, you stay close to me… okay?" Bobby frowned and let out a small sigh.
"…A-as you wish, Commander."

Obedience

Lyle sat atop one of the aisle shelves, watching over the rest of his family. Even when he had a break, he'd grown accustomed to keeping a high perch; and, of course, his crossbow was ever at the ready in case a zombie were to sneak in through some unknown opening. It certainly wouldn't be the first time.
He took a moment to observe the others. For the most part, things were quiet… many of the others didn't have much of anything to do right now. Lemy was tinkering away with something or other... it looked like a broken axe handle affixed with the blade of a rotary saw. Quite frankly, it seemed a bit excessive. Lizy and Lulu were playing with each other; Lyle wasn't sure if that was a good idea or not, but Lulu hadn't hurt any of them yet.
Lacy was limbering up, Liena and Liby were taking stock of their remaining supplies, Marla was trying to strap a machete to her stump to no avail, so on and so forth. Everyone was doing something, if for no other reason than to keep themselves occupied, save for Bed who was nowhere to be seen as per usual. Amongst the few that were actually working was Loan, who was planning out their next supply run. And, of course, Bobby wasn't far away from her, muttering something under his breath. Lyle could only assume that he was recording one of his 'Officer's Logs'. That, or he was just conversing with himself. Quite frankly, Lyle wouldn't be surprised if he was at this point.
The boy's presence had proven troubling to Lyle for several reasons. For one, it was upsetting to see his brother in such a state. Second was the most obvious: his instability made him a potential threat to the rest of the group, especially Lyra… in fact, one of Lyle's tasks was to keep an eye on him any time he was near her. Should he ever make a move to attack, Lyle was to take him out without hesitation. That, however, led to Lyle's greatest concern. Half-blood or not, Bobby was their brother… and yet, Lyra would waste no time killing him should she deem it necessary. Hell, Lyle was pretty sure she actively wanted him dead. If she would go that far with her own kin, surely she'd be more than willing to kill Bed.
Lyle had never been comfortable with Lyra's increasingly ruthless orders. In fact, he had been quite vocal about his disapproval the first time he had been told to kill a survivor. But Lyra had given him a simple, unopposable ultimatum: do as he was told, or Bed will suffer the consequences of his insubordination. The girl had proven to be the perfect pawn to keep him in line, and since then he had not questioned Lyra's orders… no matter how much he disagreed with them.
"Lyle." Speak of the devil. Lyle looked down to see Lyra standing below him. "Your turn to keep watch. Go relieve Laika and tell her to report back to me immediately."
"Yes, ma'am." Lyle quickly climbed down the shelf and headed for the maintenance area. The ladder leading to the roof was old, rickety, and quite frankly more than a little harrowing to climb, but Lyle was used to it by now. He flipped open the hatch and immediately shuddered as the ice-cold air hit him all at once. It would be winter soon, and the temperature was quickly dropping from crisp to freezing. Not that it bothered Laika, of course… the Russian had a natural disposition to the cold. "Laika," Lyle said. "I'm here to relieve you."
"Хорошо." Laika stood up and slung her rifle over her shoulder. Lyle far preferred his crossbow over actual firearms; even with a suppressor, Laika's rifle made far too much noise for his liking. Still, she was the best shot in the group after himself, so it wasn't like there was much of a choice.
"Lyra wants you to report-"
"I know this." Laika said dismissively. "Keep watch. Is quiet night." Lyle nodded, and with that Laika was off. Lyle took position at the front side of the department store, knelt down to hide behind the raised barrier of the roof, and looked out upon the surroundings. It was a simple system: ten minutes on one side, then ten minutes on another, so on and so forth in a counter-clockwise direction. Should he hear anything out of the ordinary, he would rush to that end of the roof and check things out.
Laika wasn't wrong: it was a quiet night. Save for the few zombies shambling about in the distance there wasn't much else of note. Of course, the group had done what they could not to draw attention to themselves… the windows and even the entrance had all been boarded up to block out the lights from inside, and they had a strict rule to stay as quiet as possible when outside the store. Granted, a department store like this was too good of a find for any survivor to pass up, but, well… that's what Lyle was there for.
Ten minutes. Lyle moved on to the next vantage point. Here, there were a few zombie s nearing the building… not too close, and Lyle could only assume they weren't aware of the fresh meat waiting inside. Still, they were too close for the boy's liking; normally he wouldn't be one to unnecessarily waste ammo, but quite frankly he had plenty of bolts to spare, and Lemy would be able to make more for him anyway.
Besides… he was kind of bored.
Three shots, dead center in each zombie's head. One by one they fell to the ground, dead. Granted, they were already dead, but Lyle wasn't sure what else to call it. Re-dead? Lemy had called it 'superdead' at one point, but that was stupid.
Another ten minutes passed, and Lyle moved on. By now, the cold was starting to take its toll on the boy. He was shivering, and his lips and fingertips were growing numb; he even had to rest his crossbow atop the barrier just to hold it steady. But he wouldn't falter… he couldn't. All he had to do was last two hours. That was easy. No problem. He'd handled worse… at least it wasn't raining this time. It was tempting to get up and jump around a bit, maybe run a few dozen laps around the roof's perimeter, anything to help him warm up a bit. But orders were orders: if Lyra told him to sit in the freezing cold for hours, so be it. If Lyra told him to hold position until he froze to death, so be it. Hell, if she ordered him to put a gun in his mouth and pull the trigger, he would do it. He had no other choice but to obey.
Then, he heard something amongst the silence. Had his hearing not been as well-trained as his eyesight, he would have never noticed it: faint breathing from directly behind him. Lyle quickly drew his sidearm and turned, only to find none other than Bed standing there. She wore the same emotionless expression she'd had ever since her first kill, and didn't even flinch at the gun pointed directly at her face.
"B-Bed." Lyle muttered. He holstered his pistol with a sigh. "Don't sneak up on me like that… I could have hurt you. What are you doing up here, anyway? You know you shouldn't-" Before he could finish, Bed held something out for him: a dark blue parka. Lyle's brow furrowed as he looked at it. "Did you… find this?" Bed nodded silently. Lyle took a quick glance away, surveying their surroundings once more before taking the parka. It was a near-perfect fit. It made sense that Bed would know his size, given how much she had helped their mother with her workin the past. Most importantly, however, it was warm. Just as he was about to thank her, she held out something else for him: a candy bar.
"Bed, you know I can't take this." Lyle said, gently grasping her hand and lowering it. "Any food needs to be given to Lyra for rationing." But the little girl didn't budge. She stood silently, thrusting the candy bar towards him once more. Lyle frowned as he looked down at it; as if on cue, his stomach rumbled audibly. He was hungry, and he did need to keep his energy up somehow. With some reluctance, he took the bar. "…Thank you." Bed simply nodded again. Lyle unwrapped the candy and was about to take a bite before he stopped; he broke the bar in two and offered half to his sister. "Here," He said. "You need to eat too." Bed glanced down at the chocolate bar, then back up to her brother. "Go on." The girl hesitated a moment, then obediently took it. Both ate their halves quickly; Lyle had no doubt that she had been just as hungry as he had. The sugary chocolate was the best thing he'd tasted in a while. "Thank you, Bed." He said with a small smile. "Now, I need to get back to it, so…"
"Are… you… okay?" Bed mumbled quietly. Lyle's eyes widened slightly. Those were the first words he'd heard her say in quite some time.
"I-I… yes. I'm okay." Lyle assured her. Bed nodded once more… then, to Lyle's surprise, she gave him a hug. He froze up for a moment before slowly returning the hug, squeezing the girl perhaps a bit tighter than was necessary. Their hug broke, and Lyle looked at his sister sadly. "Bed-"
"...Bye." Without another word, Bed hurried off and slipped back into the air duct she had come from. Lyle's gaze lingered for a moment before he turned away with a small sigh. But just as he was about to get back into position, he heard another sound: voices from the East side of the building. He quickly bolted towards it, dropping and sliding to the barrier before carefully peering over the edge.
"-you think anyone's inside?"
"God, I hope so… maybe they can help us." Three people were approaching the store. They seemed young… teens, perhaps. One of them was clearly injured, and was being supported by the other two. Quite frankly, they looked harmless enough... but nonetheless, Lyle raised his crossbow and took aim.
Orders were orders.

Don't phase me, bro

"C-chief Engineer Lemy."
"'Sup, Beej?" Lemy muttered as he attempted to repair one of the group's walkie talkies. Bobby's eyes narrowed.
"...Chief Engineer." Bobby said in a stern tone. "While we may hold equal rank, I must ask that you speak with d-decorum. As Lieutenant Commanders, we must set a proper example for our lower-ranking crewmates." Lemy rolled his eyes.
"Right, sure, my bad. How, uh… how can I be of assistance, Second officer Robert?" As much as the metalhead cared for his brother, he had to admit that the constant sci-fi lingo grated on his nerves after a while.
"I have need of the latrines." Bobby said. "Given the... acting captain's rules on traveling alone, I was hoping you would accompany me." He made no attempt to hide the animosity in his voice; Lemy had hoped that he would have given up on his distrust of Lyra by now, but clearly that was not the case.
"Bit busy right now, sorry." Lemy said. "Why don't you ask Loan?"
"She is plotting out our next course of action. I believe it is best not to disturb her." Bobby explained.
"Ask someone else, then." Lemy replied. Bobby frowned slightly.
"…P-please." He mumbled, some of his usual anxious tone returning to his voice. Lemy shut his eyes, taking a deep breath through his nose. He couldn't say no when the boy asked like that. Lemy sighed and set down the radio.
"Alright, fuck it. I could use a piss anyway." He said as he got to his feet.
"…C-chief Engineer, please." Bobby groaned. "Decorum."
The department store they were currently holed up in was something of a godsend; granted, the group had received more than a few injuries 'clearing out' its previous occupants, but at least they hadn't suffered any casualties. Among the various benefits that the building offered were the bathrooms. The plumbing was still functional too, which definitely helped with sanitation. Their previous safehouse had not been so fortunate, leading to things getting very disgusting very quickly.
"Sooo… you leaving a 'captain's log'?" Lemy joked as the two headed towards the back of the store. Bobby's face scrunched up briefly in annoyance, before relaxing to a neutral expression.
"…A-alright. I'll admit that one was mildly amusing. But no, I am not." Bobby said in a flat tone. "Besides, I am not Captain."
"Right…" Lemy mumbled. He couldn't help but be somewhat disappointed by Bobby's deadpan reaction… then again, he hadn't seen the boy so much as smirk since he'd joined the group. He wasn't even sure if he was physically capable of doing so, given the severity of his burns.
As they arrived at the bathrooms, rather than entering Bobby simply stood in front of the door. Lemy rolled his eyes again and pushed open the door for him.
"Shwiiish." Lemy hissed in his best impression of a starship door. Bobby seemed satisfied by this and followed him inside.
"It seems the sensors need to be re-calibrated."
"Yeah, I'll, uh… I'll get on that ASAP." Lemy grunted sarcastically. Bobby made a beeline for one of the urinals, Lemy joining beside him and unzipped his fly. His younger brother was taking a while; out of the corner of his eye, Lemy noticed that he had his entire hand shoved through the opening of his pants, and seemed to be fishing around for his 'thing'. Lemy cocked an eyebrow before quickly shaking his head and looking straight ahead. It was none of his business.
…But then again, he had to admit he was curious. Neither he nor the others knew exactly how far down Bobby's burns went… he wouldn't so much as take off his shirt around them. But given what he could see, Lemy couldn't even imagine what the rest of him looked like.
Especially THAT.
Lemy bit his lip, his face scrunching up in conflict. On one hand, it was really none of his business… but on the other hand, he had to admit he was very curious. With a small sigh, he ventured a discrete glance.
There was nothing there.
Or, rather… was something, but certainly not what it should be there. Instead, the boy was holding a thin, clear plastic tube with a small clamp at the end holding back his urine. He aimed it the best he could, and as he undid the clamp it just kind of dribbled out into the urinal. Lemy grimaced, feeling his stomach turn.
"Something bothering you, Chief Engineer?" Bobby asked in an accusatory tone. He'd noticed. Lemy quickly looked away, mentally cursing himself for being so careless.
"S-sorry, I-"
"...It's fine." Bobby said quietly. "I can hardly blame you for being curious. I-it IS quite a sight, after all." Lemy frowned as he shook himself and zipped back up. He really did feel bad. As if the burns themselves weren't bad enough, to lose your dick was just adding insult to injury. No wonder the poor guy went crazy, he thought. If the same happened to him he'd probably just stick a gun in his mouth and be done with it. Still, there was something else about the situation that bothered him: how the hell did Bobby have a catheter? Surely the boy couldn't have done it himself.
"Alright, you done?" Lemy asked. Bobby nodded, giving the tube a quick shake before re-fastening the clamp and carefully putting it back in his pants. Lemy headed for the door, only for his brother to loudly clear his throat.
"…Need I remind you of the Starfleet's policy on maintaining proper hygiene?" Bobby said sternly. Lemy stopped, letting out a small groan before turning around.
"…Right." He grunted as he walked to the sink. Bobby joined him, and the two washed their hands in silence. Lemy, however, couldn't help but dwell on the issue. Missing appendage aside, he'd always wondered just how such a young kid had managed to survive such serious injuries. Sure, it was all scar tissue now, but it sure as hell hadn't been at the time. He'd seen firsthand just how easily infection could set in on exposed wounds, especially amongst the filth of a post-outbreak world. "H-hey, Bobby…" Lemy muttered as the two finished up. "Can I ask you something personal?"
"…I suppose."
"How the heck did you survive on your own for so long…?" Lemy asked. "I mean, how did you survive at all? And that… thing… you couldn't have done it yourself, right?" Bobby froze for a brief moment, his brow furrowing slightly.
"Th-that certainly is personal, Chief Engineer."
"Sorry, you don't have to-"
"No, it's alright." Bobby sighed. "We're all comrades here. I suppose I owe you an explanation." Lemy leant against the wall, patiently waiting for the boy to continue. "I have Doctor Phillips to thank for that."
"…Who?" Lemy asked, raising an eyebrow.
"He was the one to find me after the… incident…" Bobby trailed off, idly rubbing at his burnt arm. "H-he cleaned and bandaged my wounds, and fitted me with my catheter. He's a good man."
"Sounds like it," Lemy agreed. "So… what happened? Why aren't you with him anymore?" Bobby averted his eyes, chewing his lip for a moment before continuing.
"We were together for some time, even after I had recovered from my injuries. But if I were to have any hope of finding the mothership, I could not stay." Lemy had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes again.
"So, you just left?" Lemy asked. Bobby shook his head.
"D-doctor Phillips was adamant that I stay, for my own safety." The younger boy explained. "H-he would not let me leave, so I had t-to use force."
"You… killed him, you mean?" Lemy had to admit, he was surprised… despite his madness, Bobby was one of the least violent among them. To kill someone that had saved and cared for him was harsh, even by their standards. Bobby, however, shook his head again.
"Of course not," Said Bobby with a hint of irritation. "L-like I said, he's a good man. I merely stunned him."
"…Stunned…?" Lemy furrowed his brow. "Stunned how?" Bobby withdrew his 'phaser' from his belt, and Lemy had to fight back his natural instinct to disarm the boy.
"I only k-kill when necessary," Bobby assured him. "Here, see?" He pointed out a small, plastic switch on the side of the toy shell. "I-I keep my phaser set to stun unless I'm sure I need to use l-lethal force." Lemy's eyes widened. Stun. He thought his pistol was set to STUN.
Bobby didn't know he'd been killing people.
"A-anyway, that's the story…" Bobby muttered, placing the 'toy' back on his belt. "Now, i-if there's nothing further, shall we rejoin the rest of the crew?" Lemy shook himself out of his thoughts, giving a small nod.
"Y-yeah… yeah, let's go." The metalhead mumbled. He headed for the door and opened it. "…Swish." He said with markedly less enthusiasm, though Bobby didn't seem to notice. As the two walked, Lemy glanced over, scanning his half-brother. His burnt flesh, his perpetually shell-shocked expression, his useless toy helmet that he was adamant was the real deal… he was a mess, and that was only what laid on the surface. Underneath that, it was clear that the boy was even more damaged than Lemy had thought. He thought he was harmlessly stunning people this whole time. Lemy had often wondered if he truly believed the nonsense he spouted or if it was just his way of coping with the horrible situation he was trapped in, but now… he was sure Bobby wasn't faking it.
He already distrusted Lyra… no, he distrusted most of the group. He hated Lyra, and seemed to have no doubt that she was an alien spy. Lemy's mind couldn't help but conjure up thoughts of the day Bobby might finally snap and decide to 'stun' one of them. Lemy clenched his teeth. There was no doubt in his mind now: the boy was irreparably broken. Even in the off chance that they managed to survive, that humanity would somehow rebuild itself… there was nothing that could be done to help him. Bobby was completely delusional and, above all else… a potential risk to the group's safety. Lyra had been right about him. Lemy fell back slightly, trailing just behind his brother. He loved the kid… he always had, almost as much as Lyra herself. But he couldn't let this go. Lyra's rules were barbaric, but they were the only reason the group had survived so long. Family or not, risks had to be dealt with. No exceptions.
He focused his gaze on the back of Bobby's head. The plastic helmet may serve well enough against the horde, but not against a proper weapon. Lemy slowly reached behind his back, gripping the handle of his axe. One well-placed blow, and that would be it. He'd make it quick… painless. Loan would be devastated, but surely she'd understand when he explained his actions. Besides, the boy was too far gone; putting him out of his misery was the most merciful thing he could do for his brother. Stop hesitating, Lemy told himself. Just do it. One blow, that's it. He won't feel a thing. Better you do it than Lyra, right?
"…Chief Engineer?"
"Y-yes?" Lemy gasped, quickly letting go of his hatchet and doing his best to act casual. Bobby stopped walking and turned to face his brother.
"…D-do you… mind if I speak freely for a moment?" He asked. His voice was quiet and strained… he'd dropped his stoic façade again. Lemy gave a small nod.
"Sure…" He muttered. Bobby took a deep breath.
"I… do appreciate it." He admitted. "The way you try to cheer us up, I mean. If… if we're to survive this… if we're to make contact with the mothership… it's important that we have someone like you to keep our morale up. So… thank you." Lemy tensed up. It was faint, but it was there… the good half of his brother's mouth was upturned slightly. He was smiling, or at least the best he could manage.
"U-uh… yeah… yeah, no problem, bro. Don't… mention it." Lemy muttered. Bobby made a small sound that may have been a chuckle, then turned away and resumed walking. Lemy remained frozen where he stood for a moment; before finally releasing a long sigh. "…Dammit." He grumbled under his breath.
"Chief Engineer Lemy, don't fall behind!"
"R-right…" Lemy hurried to catch up with his brother. "Hey, by the way… let's keep the stunning thing between us, okay?"

Bite Me

"You c-called for me, captain?" Bobby asked in a venomous tone. Lyra rolled her eyes.
"Yes, I did. I need you to do something." She said. Bobby's scowl deepened slightly. "It's a simple matter," She assured him. "One that should be no issue for an… officer of your caliber." Lyra abhorred indulging in the boy's fantasies, but it was the best way to get him to cooperate. In any case, the 'compliment' seemed to ease him somewhat; he straightened his posture, folding his arms behind his back.
"…How may I be of s-s-service?"
"As I'm sure you've noticed, Lulu has been acting… unusual lately." Lyra gestured with her head towards the infant, who was seated a distance away. 'Unusual' was something of an understatement. She looked angry, and seemed to be chewing her pacifier anxiously… quite frankly, she looked as though she may rip the head off of anyone who dared approach her. Something she was quite capable of doing, unfortunately.
"Yes… I have noticed." Bobby muttered. The rest of his 'crew' had noticeably been giving her a wide berth as of late, not that he could blame them. The crew's 'alien pet' was usually friendly and affectionate, but he knew fully well just how vicious she could be. "What of it?"
"Well, I need you to check her pacifier." Lyra said. Bobby furrowed his brow.
"W-with all due respect, 'captain'… to my knowledge, that device is the only thing keeping this creature placated. Per Admiral Lisa's orders, it is never to be r-removed." He said.
"That's exactly why I'm concerned," Lyra stated. "If there's something wrong with it, ignoring the issue could very well endanger all of us. Regardless of your feelings towards me, surely the safety of the… crew… takes priority?" Bobby frowned. She wasn't wrong… as Second Officer, he couldn't very well leave the matter unattended. But then again… he hated taking orders from this impostor.
"If this is a trick-"
"I assure you, it's not. You're the only one I could trust to handle such a volatile situation." Lyra said. Bobby narrowed his eyes in suspicion before giving a sigh and small nod.
"...Very well. I will investigate. I'm certain my duranium helmet will provide sufficient protection," He said reluctantly. As he walked towards the girl, a cold smirk crossed Lyra's face. She wasn't lying… at least, not entirely. Lulu's current state was a potential risk to the group's safety, after all. But the delusional Bobby was even more of a threat, even now. As much as she'd like to just put the boy out of his misery and be done with it, the fact of the matter was that, despite his madness, he had yet to act against them in any capacity. To execute him without due cause would surely cause a rift in the group, especially given Loan's attachment to him. Which made him the perfect choice for the task at hand. If it were to take a turn for the worse… well, surely that wouldn't be her fault. She was counting on it, of course; it was why she had chosen Loan to go on patrol today, reluctant as she had been to leave the boy's side. And with none of the others watching, it would be easy enough to pass off Bobby's fate as a simple accident. With no small amount of trepidation, Bobby approached the irritable infant. Her eyes flicked towards him and she gave a fierce glare, a threatening growl emitting from her throat. Bobby swallowed the lump in his throat and held up his hands in a vain attempt to ease her.
"I-it's okay, Lulu… I'm not going to hurt you," He said in as soothing of a voice as he could manage. "I'm here to help." Lulu's growl only deepened with each step he took, her scowl growing even more intense as he reached towards her. "Easy, now…" With one quick motion, he plucked the binky from her mouth and backed away. Lulu made a sound like the wail of a furious cat, assuming an attack posture as four pointed, spider-like appendages sprouted from her back. Bobby frantically looked over the pacifier; nothing seemed out of the ordinary, aside from the fact that even the thick rubber Lisa had chosen had been slightly chewed up. Lulu's spindly 'legs' pierced the ground and lifted her well above the boy's eye level. She scuttled towards him with a fierce hiss, her mouth opening wide to bare her razor-sharp teeth. Bobby gasped, whipping his head towards her in horror as her jaw split open into an insect-like mandible… more than wide enough to take off his head in a single bite.
Lyra's cold expression faltered somewhat. Despite her distrust of the boy, even now her maternal instinct told her that she should intervene… but she wouldn't. Bobby was a threat, after all… and should this be the end of things, so be it. But then, Bobby's brow furrowed, his eyes narrowing as he stared into the baby's gaping maw. Just as she was about to lunge for him, he quickly reached into her mouth and pulled something out. Lulu let out a pained yelp and leapt back, her limbs retracting and dropping her onto her rear. Her mandible snapped shut and she clasped her tiny hands over her mouth; slowly, she lowered her hands and flexed her jaw a few times. She raised her arm and chomped down on it lightly, testing her bite. Lyra watched in disbelief as a wide smile spread across her baby sister's face. She crawled over to Bobby and reared up onto her legs, giving the boy a big hug. Bobby simply smirked and gently patted the girl's head before returning her binky, which she gladly accepted. With that, he made his way over to Lyra.
"The s-situation has been dealt with," Bobby said, holding up a small white object: one of Lulu's teeth. "I-it would seem that she simply had a loose tooth… undoubtedly, it was causing her no small measure of d-discomfort." He dropped the fang into Lyra's palm, and she simply stared at it in silence. "Now then, i-is that all…?"
"U-um… yes, that's all. You're… dismissed." Lyra stammered. Bobby gave a curt nod and headed off to return to his own business. Lyra looked from the tooth in her hand to her youngest sister, who was cheerfully scuttling about on her chitinous limbs; she seemed to be back to her old self. She sighed, placing the razor sharp fang in her pocket before walking over to the infant. "…Come on, Lulu. Let's get you fed." She muttered, and Lulu obediently sprang into her arms. I suppose this is fine, for now… Lyra thought as she carried the girl off.

Only the Strong

Only the strong come out on top.
This was a philosophy the boss lived by, even before the outbreak. The world's spoils could only go to those willing to take it for themselves, while the weak existed only to be trampled underfoot. In the zombie-infested wasteland, this rule was even more important; it was kill or be killed, take or be taken from. Survive or die, regardless of what you had to do to ensure it. Not that the boss minded… this way of life suited him just fine. As soon as the outbreak began, he'd wasted no time in gathering together a group of survivors, almost his own little 'community' of sorts. He offered them protection within the warehouse he owned, a reinforced structure that was all but impervious to the horde… of course, he positioned himself as the leader, which the rest of his flock seemed to accept. He was a good leader, after all… providing them with both safety and resources.
This was all part of the plan, of course. He'd earned their trust… hell, they practically worshipped the ground on which he stood. Then came phase two: separating the wheat from the chaff. He identified the strong amongst the group, rewarded them for their efforts, and gradually won them to his side… and then came phase three: purging the weak without hesitation. The women got to stick around for a while, of course… at least, until he and his Merry Men got bored of them.
'The Merry Men'. He'd chosen the name because, quite frankly, he found it ironic. He supposed they were merry, in their own way… in the post-outbreak world, they reigned supreme. Those few lucky enough to survive an encounter with them would spread the word to others, and soon enough they had established themselves as the most notorious raider gang around. Still, before long the time had come to leave the warehouse and find a new stronghold. Supplies in the area were diminishing, after all.
Today, the boss stood in the office of the factory his gang now called home, watching over them through the large window as they fulfilled their duties… sorting supplies, maintaining weapons, and anything else the boss had instructed them to do. Obedient. Loyal. As strong as they were, they knew their place… beneath him. Most would condemn the new state of the world, but the boss would have it no other way. This was his domain… even at the height of his success, he had never felt so powerful. As he looked down upon his flock, he knew fully well that they were untouchable. They would survive, and thrive, and slaughter any weakling that got in their way. Hell, their numbers only grew… anyone strong enough to impress him would be given a choice: join him, or die. Unsurprisingly, most chose the former.
The boss was snapped from his thoughts by the office door opening behind him. He found no reason to be on guard… he knew that none of his men would dare try anything against him.
"Boss?"
"Yes, Jackson?" The boss asked, not even turning to look at the man behind him. "Something to report?" Jackson was the closest thing he had to a right-hand man, or at least as far as he would allow it.
"Yessir," Jackson said. "The scouting group has just returned."
"A fruitful endeavor, I hope?"
"Yes. No casualties and a good amount of supplies to boot; they encountered a band of survivors holed up in a supermarket. Slaughtered every one of them."
"Good." The boss said casually. He expected no less from his men, after all.
"But… there's more," Jackson continued. "One of them tried to offer information in exchange for his life… apparently there's another group gaining notoriety as of late."
"…Oh?"
"Yes. They're not raiders as far as I can tell, but they're more than willing to kill anyone they deem a threat." Jackson explained. "Only a few have been lucky enough to live to tell the tale."
"I see…" The boss muttered. "And where is this band located?"
"It's… unclear." His underling replied. "Apparently they've been on the move. In any case, there's only about fifteen or so. Maybe more, but definitely nowhere near enough to match our numbers."
"Let it be, then." The boss ordered. "If we run into them, we'll deal with it. No use seeking out trouble when we can let it come to us." Besides, he wasn't concerned… each one of his Merry Men could take on at least several survivors on their own.
"Well, about that…" Jackson said with a smirk. "You might be interested to know that this particular group is apparently comprised entirely of women and children." His boss tensed up slightly. He turned, his cold gray eyes meeting his lackey's.
"…Alright, Jackson." Chester said, his lips pulling back into a sneering grin. "Now you have my attention."

Home

"We need to talk about your brother."
"Which one?" Loan muttered as she continued sharpening her blade.
"You KNOW which one." Lyra replied flatly. Loan's eyes narrowed slightly.
"...What about him?"
"You know that, too." Lyra snapped. "This... Star Wars nonsense. It-"
"Star Trek," Loan corrected her. Lyra rolled her eyes.
"Whatever it is, it's a problem. You know what happened earlier?" Lyra asked. "When I woke up, the lunatic was just... sitting there, glaring at me. Clutching that stupid gun of his."
"You can never be too careful," Said Loan. "Don't you always tell us that?"
"Loan, for fuck's sake, he thinks I'm an alien." Lyra hissed. "You've seen how itchy that trigger finger of his can get. What if-"
"If he was going to attack you, he would have by now." Loan reasoned. "He's just trying to look out for us."
"You're only saying that because he trusts you," Lyra said. "But he doesn't trust me, and I don't trust him." Loan sighed, focusing her attention on the task at hand. The 'knife' consisted of a jagged, rusty piece of scrap metal sharpened into a fine edge, with a handle bound by twine; Bobby had made it for her when her own knife had snapped off in a would-be thief's neck. It had held up quite well, though it needed to be re-sharpened regularly... the boy's prior experience with model building had left him surprisingly adept at cobbling together weaponry. "You can't pretend this isn't a problem, Loan." Lyra muttered. "I've put up with him this long for your sake, but I'm at my limit."
"He's just coping in his own way, Lyra." Loan said with a noticeable edge to her voice. "We all are. Bobby's-"
"Last time I checked, the rest of us don't think we're we're fucking spacemen!" Lyra snapped. "He's out of his damn mind, Loan! He's dangerous! And if you think I'm going to risk our safety-"
"Really? You're really going to start this?" Loan shot back. "He's your brother too, you know!"
"Barely, Loan. Barely." Lyra warned. "Either you get him under control or I'll deal with him MY way, do you understand?!" Loan glared at her sister in silence.
"...There is no barely here. He's family, Lyra, just as much as any of us are."
"Don't pretend you're not playing favorites," Lyra replied. Loan scoffed and looked away. "I get it. You don't approve of my methods. But it's thanks to me that we've lasted as long as we have, and I'm not letting anyone jeopardize that... family or not." Loan frowned. At some level, she could understand her sister's concern, but she trusted Bobby. He relied on them, and even if he had his doubts about Lyra he would surely never act on them.
"...I'll talk to him," Loan assured her. "Just... let me handle it." Lyra crossed her arms, looking down at her older sister in silence. Finally, she gave a small nod.
"Good. Just remember what I said," She huffed before walking off. "No exceptions." Loan sighed and glanced over towards her little brother. He was sitting alone a distance away, recording another 'Officer's Log' with his tape recorder. She looked back to her knife; figuring it was as good as it was going to get for now, she slipped it back into its holster. With a small grunt, Loan got to her feet. She walked over to Bobby and sat down on the floor nearby. He gave little more than a quick nod as a greeting, too focused on his recording to say anything to the woman. She watched the boy in silence. Their chance encounter with Bobby a few months back had been the first time Loan had felt genuine joy in who knows how long. She'd never imagined that he would have survived, especially for as long as he did. Even in his current state, just having him around helped ease her inner turmoil somewhat.
"Bob-" She began, before catching herself. "...Officer Loud. Can you come here for a second?" The boy jumped slightly at the sudden intrusion, then gave a small nod.
"...Second Officer Robert Loud, signing off." He said into the recorder before striding over to his big sister and giving a salute. "F-First Officer Loan. How can I be of assistance?" Loan forced herself to suppress a smirk. As troubling as his delusional behavior was, Loan couldn't help but appreciate the opportunity to 'roleplay' a bit. If nothing else, it gave her a way to cut loose just a little.
"At ease, officer." She said, patting the ground next to her. "Here, sit."
"Er... yes, ma'am. A-as you command." Bobby took a seat beside her. For a few moments, she didn't speak as she tried to find the right words.
"Bobby, look..." Loan muttered. "I know you don't trust Lyra, but she's on our side. She's not a... reptilian." Bobby frowned, his eyes narrowing a bit.
"They are a very crafty race, ma'am."The boy stated plainly. "I-it's in the best interest of the crew that I remain vigilant."
"Right, but... it's not in your best interests." Loan figured it was best not to bring up their leader's ultimatum. "She's just trying to keep us all alive, Bob- officer. Just... I'll keep an eye on her myself, okay? So please stop."
"...Is that an order?"
"It's... a request," Said Loan. "From your sister." Bobby flinched slightly, but nonetheless sighed and nodded.
"V-very well. I trust your judgment." Bobby assured her. "For now, I will leave the matter in your capable hands."
"Thank you."
"Was there anything else, m-ma'am?" Bobby asked, turning to face his sister. Loan was about to dismiss him, but at this distance she took note of the dark purple creases under his good eye.
"You haven't been sleeping, have you?" She asked. Bobby averted his eye.
"...I sleep when I must." Loan frowned. Sleep didn't come easy to anyone, but it was clearly taking its toll on the boy.
"Here..." Said Loan, patting her lap. "Lie down." Bobby's brow furrowed slightly.
"Th-that would be conduct unbecoming of-"
"That's an order, officer." She said with a stern note to her voice. Bobby reluctantly nodded.
"...A-as you wish." He did as he was commanded, lying down and easing his head into her lap. He looked uncomfortable; before the outbreak, Bobby would have done this without hesitation.
But he wasn't 'Bobby' anymore.
Loan gently grasped the boy's helmet, but he grabbed her hand.
"C-commander-"
"It's okay, Bobby." She gently assured him. "It's okay." Bobby frowned, but nonetheless let go of his sister's hand. She felt him tense up as she carefully removed his helmet. It made a nauseating shluck sound as it slid off the boy's head, and she had to turn away and cough as the stench of sweat and blood hit her like a freight train. That, and the sight of her brother's face was enough to rattle even her hardened resolve. Half of her Bobby's face was so badly burnt that it looked like something out of a horror movie. His right eye was dead and discolored, his milky-white pupil permanently locked off to the side. Half of his hair had burnt away and what hair he did have was tangled and matted with grime. He averted his gaze, apparently ashamed of being seen like this.
Loan swallowed and forced herself to look at him. She had gotten off fairly easily, all things considered... others, like Marla and Lizy, hadn't been so lucky. But she couldn't begin to imagine just how badly her brother had suffered. The burns continued down his body as well, though she wasn't sure just how far they went. She gently touched the burnt half of his face, making him wince. She quickly drew her hand back.
"S-sorry... does it hurt?" She asked. Bobby shook his head.
"I-I can't feel anything... j-just pressure." He assured her. Loan nodded and began lightly stroking his hair. He shuddered slightly, but made no move to stop her. His hair was slimy to the touch, and coarse where it bordered his scarred flesh. Bobby had to admit, as unusual as it was for his commanding officer to touch him in such a way, it felt... nice. It was soothing, and strangely nostalgic.
It reminded him of how things had been before.
"Bobby... are you alright?" Loan asked, taking note of his troubled expression. Bobby's face scrunched up slightly.
"P-per... permission to speak freely, ma'am...?"
"Permission granted," Loan said with a nod. Bobby bit his lip, hesitating a moment before turning to meet her gaze. His good eye was beginning to brim with tears.
"I... I miss it..." The boy choked. "I want to go home..."
"...I know, Bobby." Loan said in a hushed tone. "We all do." Her brother's tiny body began to shake before he finally turned and buried himself into her stomach, sobbing freely into her shirt. She held him and let him cry; she may have joined him herself, had her own tears not run out long ago.
Before long, the boy had cried himself into an unsteady sleep. She continued to stroke his hair as he twitched and muttered under his breath; nightmares, no doubt. It was easy to forget that despite the situation, despite his mental state, underneath it all he was just a terrified child. Loan sighed and looked out to the rest of the the group. Sometimes it was hard to believe that things had been normal once. That they'd been happy once. She'd never fully appreciated just how good her life had been until it was taken from her. Sometimes, she wondered why they even bothered trying to survive in a dead world... the most they could do was delay the inevitable. Eventually, their luck would run out.
But for now, at least, they had each other. If nothing else, perhaps prolonging that was worth it.
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