Anti-Venom [Chapter 1]
A Work In Progress
Because this is a work in progress, I’m happy to hear feedback and constructive criticism. If you see a typo, let me know. If there’s a plot hole or something that makes no sense, let me know. If you don’t see any issues and just want to tell me you love it? Let me know. ❤️
Chapter 1
“That’s a joke, right? You’re not actually double dog daring me like we’re teenagers and expect me to bite.”
God, he knows me so well. I can never pass up a challenge, but this is different. No one goes outside the walls, especially not at night.
Sure, in High School it was the rebellious, edgy thing to do. But sometimes not everyone made it back. Those days are long gone. We are responsible adults now.
“Come on, Ven! You know they get less active in the winter. Besides, when was the last time you heard of anyone being attacked?”
That’s a great question. One I’m struggling to find an answer to. The skin on my cold nose and forehead nearly cracks scrunching up trying to remember.
“See! You don’t know. It’s been forever.”
Sean grabs my hand and starts swinging it as he twists his hips back and forth. It’s such a stupid, juvenile action, especially after his bottom lip pops out. I’m not sure what’s gotten into him, but it’s both adorable and annoying.
“Stop that.” My resolve is waning, and he knows it but I’m still not willing to accept the risk. To emphasize his desire to win, he tucks his chin and bats his eyelashes, remarkably long and beautiful for a guy. My favorite part of him. “We’re too old for you to be acting like that.”
I can’t even believe I’m considering it.
So stupid.
“Come on… please? Pretty please with condensed milk smoothies on top?”
Shit.
He’s pulling out all the stops bringing our Kindergarten phrase into it. It doesn’t even make sense. What would you even put a smoothie on top of?
There’s gotta be more to this than he’s telling me.
“Hey, guys! You coming or not?” Tiffany pushes past us.
I look over at the others. How is it possible we’re down to only five, now? It’d be different if it were just because, as we get older, people get married or having a falling out, but when four of your closest friends have Turned… it leaves a hole in the group that’s always there.
“What’s the hold up?” Blake has always been the most vocal – and annoying – of us. I’m sure this is all his idea, but Sean would never admit it.
“Vanessa Elizabeth Newnan! Get your ass over here and go on an adventure with us, right now!” Tiffany pulls out her emergency kit and fishes out a tube of lip balm. I’m not sure how that will help in an emergency, but it’s probably the most useful thing she has in there. She’s known for having makeup and nail files in there instead of the required first aid essentials. The scouts and scavengers that she’s bribed are happy to grab any of the non-essential items and let her go through them first.
I love that we can all be so silly when we get together. It makes the monotony and stress of “real life” more tolerable.
Her use of my full name instead of the anachronistic nickname makes me smile. She only uses it when she’s trying to be serious. Tad and I are the only ones that have hung onto those monikers throughout the years. Probably because ours were the only ones that made sense. Calling Blake “Burm” because his initials are BRM just didn’t suit him. Although, I’m sad that Tiffany grew out of hers. “Tulip” was a natural way to pronounce TLP, and it fit her personality so well. Maybe I should start calling her that again for fun.
Sean gives one last push to send me over the edge. “For me…?” He pulls me in close, placing a kiss just below my left ear.
Damn, he’s good.
“Fine, but you can bet your ass that if I Turn I’m biting you all before you can kill me.”
Tiffany claps her hands and hops off the cargo crate she’s on and skips like a school-girl toward me with her arms out. “I knew you’d come around. Why do you always put up such a fight before saying yes?”
She’s always been ditsy, but I know it’s just a coping mechanism. She was hit the hardest when the others Turned. Sometimes I forget that she’s two years younger than us, too. Not to mention that her relationship with Felicity was pretty serious. They were inseparable. It was a devastating loss for her most of all.
Blake, of course, answers for me. “Because she’s a wet blanket, that’s why. Always has been, always will be.”
“Leave her alone. She’s just being cautious.”
“Thanks, Tad.” I accept a kiss on the cheek from Tiffany and Sean makes a lewd sort of growl in response, so I smack his arm.
“What? It’s hot.” Sean’s bright blue eyes brighten in the dying light as he smirks. “My girlfriend getting kissed by another woman right in front of me gets me going.” That warrants another, harder smack but this time on his ass. He knows that sort of levity puts me at ease, but I can’t let it go without some sort of response.
“Never gonna happen See-An.” Tiffany knows how much he hates this mispronunciation of his name. He’ll never get over his history teacher from fifth grade, Ms. Black, calling him that until the day she turned. He cackled manically at her over the wall every day until his dad finally nailed her in the head with his crossbow. She was good target practice.
Tad hangs back as we all file out through the gap in the fence. It’s the same gap we used to go through for fun until our work assignments had us all on opposite shifts.
“How long has it been since you’ve been out?” It’s the only question I could think of asking while we waited for the others to each take their turn slipping under. It was difficult to engage Tad in conversation unless you ask them things directly. They’d always been like that, but after they came out it got worse. Since we expanded the walls and incorporated more of the town into our community, there are only about 150 of us if you don’t count the over-50’s and under-18’s, and more than half are married with kids. That’s good if you’re like me and don’t want to feel pressured to settle down and keep society growing, but when you’re gay and non-binary, like Tad, your options for meaningful romantic relationships are extremely limited.
I try to be someone that will be there for them. I may not understand what they’re going through, but I want them to know I care enough to try.
“I got sent out about a month ago.” They kept talking as I leaned under the chain link and held it open for them. “I was sent to find a carburetor for the patrol truck. Saw some Turned but they didn’t bother us much. Got a couple at the junk yard we had to take care of, but…”
We fall in step behind chatty-Cathy-Tiffany who can’t seem to get Blake to play along with her knock-knock joke. The quiet bothers her, I get it, but we should really be paying more attention. “Vigilance is the key to staying alive,” and all.
“Gotcha. Is it going any better at the garage?”
I’m not sure how the work assignments were given out, but Tad would be the last person I’d put in a job with all big, burly, homophobic men. The patrol trucks and supply-run vans break down all the time, so I know it’s a lot of work. They’ve been doing ok, as far as I know, but I’m sure it’s a challenge.
“It’s fine.”
Crap. That means it’s horrible.
“Oh. Ok. Well, you know Justin will always switch with you. The offer is always open. I’m sure the council…”
I’m not sure how many times in the ten years since we all graduated that I’ve brought up that my brother would love to work on the cars instead, but they always turn it down.
“I know the sewer plant isn’t a great option, but he pretty much works alone and the other people there aren’t too bad.”
I look back to see them looking down at their feet, chewing on their bottom lip, so I stop, making them almost run into me.
“I know waste maintenance isn’t great, but if the guys at the garage…”
“It’s fine, Ven. Just let it go.”
With a sigh, they shoulder check me a little as they push past.
There’s definitely something going, and I’m not going to give up until I get to the bottom of it. This whole night is wacky. First, Sean was acting like tonight’s outing was the most important thing and I absolutely had to come along, and now Tad…
Blake’s fist rising above his head makes us all stop in our tracks. Our years of training kicks in and we all know what to do.
First Sean fans to the left, crouched low and silent as a fox, then Tiffany takes up position behind Tad, one hand on their back and the other pulling out the machete strapped to her hip. At least she didn’t replace that with a makeup brush or something.
As I flank right, my adrenaline spikes and it feels like my feet, crunching the frosted leaves, reverberates like an alarm betraying our location with every step.
Once in position, we all freeze.
Listening.
Waiting.
Watching.
My breath comes out in puffs. The leather-wrapped handle of my knife protects my fingers from the frigid steel, but I can feel the dampness in my bones.
I should have worn my gloves.
If I had known we were going to be out this long I would have dressed more appropriately, but Sean just said he had a surprise.
I concentrate on my surroundings while at the same time loosening my grip, lifting each digit one at a time to keep the blood flowing.
The rustle of leaves and branches from the right draws my attention but I can’t find its source.
The Turned tend to go dormant during the winter months. Ms. Black, before the incident, theorized that the cooler weather slowed their metabolism down just like any biological being, and they could hibernate to preserve their energy.
My parents don’t agree. They were there in the beginning and saw how active they were in the first few winters. It wasn’t until the fifth or sixth year that their activity decreased in the colder months.
“The virus is dying,” scientists would say. “We’re seeing the end of this terrible time in history and will be back to ‘normal’ by the end of next year.”
Every October they said that – they still say that sometimes – but it’s been more than twenty years, and we’re still sheltered in our walled villages. At least they got the power grid back up a few years ago.
Now, though, it’s just the five of us and a sound in the forest putting us on edge.
A whisper carries toward me on the breeze.
“Maybe it’s just a squirrel.”
“Don’t be a moron, Tiff!” Blake’s voice is much louder than Tiffany’s which is way more likely to draw the attention of whatever is out there. “Squirrels don’t make that much noise.”
“They do if they’re playing in the leaves or digging for nuts or something!” Her high, squeaky pitch could no doubt raise the dead… and the not-quite-dead.
“Shhhh!” I roll my eyes at Sean’s attempt to quiet them down by being even more loud and obnoxious.
We’ve obviously completely lost all sense of stealth. It’s clear that we haven’t had many opportunities to use our skills in the last ten years. Fresh out of school we were at the top of our game. Between the daily training and strategy classes, and the monthly drills, we were ready for anything. Then, serving our two years on mandatory security details honed our skills. The entire community was fortified and protected. Now, the only Turned we run into are from outside the walls.
Complacency has overrun our lives though, I’m afraid. The safety we’re afforded has only made us weak. It’s been so long since an attack inside the walls by The Turned or any bandit groups, that we’ve become rusty.
I really want to yell at all of them to shut up, but I know it would just make things worse, and elevate the already heightened nerves.
We’re all finally quiet for several minutes, and there are no additional sounds, so Blake gives the ok. “It must’ve just been a…” he looks at Tiffany whose hands are firmly placed on her hips, giving off an “I’m waiting” vibe, but he doesn’t take the bait, “…the wind. It must’ve been the wind.”
My hands are numb, making it difficult to re-sheath my weapon. I slide the blade in, finally, and blow warm air between my palms. “What are we doing out here, anyway? Why won’t either of you fill us in?”
The look Sean gives his best friend is conspiratorial. I’m not sure what it’s all about, but a silent conversation is passing between them. Blake shakes his head, saying nothing.
“I’m just going to go back, then. You with me, Tad?” I stare at them with a “Give me some backup, please” look.
“What’s going on, guys?” In all the years I’ve known Tad, they’ve never initiated a conversation, so it doesn’t surprise me that it does what I couldn’t.
“I was going to do it when we got to the old cemetery where we had our first kiss, but I guess here is as good a place as any.” Sean turns to look at me, bending a knee to the ground, and my heart stops.
“What are you doing?” This can’t be happening. I know we’ve known each other since grade school, lost our virginities to each other Sophomore year, and dated off and on ever since, but things haven’t been serious… have they?
Beside me, Tiffany gasps. “Awwwww!”
“Ven, I’ve…”
“Stop it! Just… stop it!” I can’t breathe.
Is this what a panic attack feels like?
Can a person die from a panic attack?
“Ven, just listen…”
Nope. That’s not going to happen. My legs can’t move fast enough.