To Be Comfortable

"No"

"Yes"

"Fuck no."

"We're fucking doing it."

Bryce let out an exasperated groan as we stared at our home for the night. The chipped paint and near bent metal was the only solace that Vince concluded we could crash for the night. With one strong kick, the doors to the back opened revealing the very spacious and yet cramped storage space of the van. The damn thing nearly bending on its frame from how harsh he kicked.

It wasn't our first option. Hell, maybe even our third option. But there's only so many places left that's suitable and, with night slowly infecting the once clear blue sky, we were running short on time to pick.

Instantly, both Bryce and I went inspecting. A near common practice everyone goes through during the recent days. Check every single nook and cranny of potential safe houses to ensure there won't be a breach. I remember some guys who refuse to even stay in a house if there is even a fracture in the drywall.

A grunt left Bryce's lips the longer he stalked around the vehicle. Even going so far as to pop the hood, allowing years of dust to puff back into us.

"Jesus dude!" I exclaimed, waving the air in front of me as Vince poked his head from the driver seat to stare at the situation at hand. His cheek resting on his hand as he stared lazily, but amused.

"You know that it ain't gonna work." He teased with a smirk, causing me to snicker. Watching Bryce's expression turn sour at his comment.

"Listen, if I can make a car explode I'm sure I can make a car work."

"That's only cause you're lucky you shit." I mouthed back as he shoved me playfully.

"Hey, I wouldn't have to turn to that had you not set a fucking hoard on me."

I couldn't help the smirk cross my face. This sort of banter seemed to slowly become our norm. Which was completely fine in my books considering how normal it felt doing it with him. Perhaps a part of my past coming back to such things.

"How you managed to do that is still fucking crazy to me." Vince sighed, popping out of the seat to go look as well. His jaw clenched as he rolled up his sleeves. Hands poking and prodding the insides with both curiosity and also boredom.

My eyes gazed down to the exposed skin on his arms. A history of stories written in those scars and revealing the trail of butterflies from his wrist which disappeared under his scrunched up sleeves.

"Do… you do that for every person who um.. dies?" I asked and soon cringing immediately. I eased as he chuckled instead, pulling his head out of the hood to give me a 'really?' face.

"Do you always ask such stupid question?"

I shrugged in response, a bit unsure as to how to answer back.This did nothing but prompt him to roll his eyes. Pulling his sleeves a big further just to allow me a glimpse of the scars and tattoos just a bit better. Each butterfly carved beautifully and each scar criss crossing over his flesh. Some deep, others just faint lines. Even the fresh ones fit into place like puzzle pieces creating a whole picture. I couldn't help but stare at each line wondering the story behind it.

Did it start during Z-day? Were they friends? Lovers? Family? Did he witness their deaths? Or was he the cause of it?

My mind slipped back to that black corridor, the lines of wishes written on the walls seemed to have manifested back on his arms. This time in butchered flesh.

Bryce cleared his throat, snapping me back to reality causing me to jump and whip my head towards him. An eyebrow raised and an amused smirk was all the explanation he gave me before he gently shut the hood.

"Before you continue to oggle, can we please figure out where we're gonna actually sleep at night?"

"Oh fuck you Bryce, I wasn't oggl-"

"Well you can figure out where you're sleeping." Vince cut me off, pushing his sleeves down and giving the both of us a lazy grin. "I'm gonna crash in this here van whether you like it or not. So feel free to waste your time tryina find some place else."

With that, he slipped back into the passenger seat leaving me with Bryce. With him still grimacing the longer he stared at the rust bucket called a car. I chuckled, jokingly bumping my hips with his. Hoping that it'll help lighten his mood. Though it was hard to do with how adamant he was about being negative about our makeshift home for the night.

Even as we headed inside, he sat at the foot of the van and gazed outwards at the ruins. Not quite fully in the car just yet. I watched as his leg bounced anxiously, his head down and resting on the butt of his rifle. I can't blame him but at a certain point we all need to take these drastic measures.

The least I could do was pat at his bags until he let them free. The straps catching on the fabric of his jacket. Was he having too much attitude about this? Probably. Am I going to mention it? Maybe later.

Both bags dragged across the carpeted floor as I finally settled on a tiny corner of the van to stay in. My head resting on the sullen leather covering the driver seat and my legs pulled tight to my chest. Just glad to take a break from all the walking. Maybe it was my focus to get somewhere or something else but I realized how tired I was getting. As the light started to slowly fade from view, the need to shut my eyes began to grow more.

"Who's going first?"

I felt myself blink as Vince broke the silence. Him leaning over the seat to stare at both me and my sulking friend.

"I'll go first."

"You can't avoid the van forever dude."

Bryce pushed off from the edge, the van shaking about in protest, as he lazily swung his rifle around his shoulders. Vince just snorted, rolling those eyes of his, and easing back into his seat. His mask pooled in his lap and clearly showing zero empathy for Bryce's discomfort.

"I'll be back yeah? Go get some rest." He said instead but his mind seemed to be displaced. Soon he gently closed the doors causing the lighting to turn damn near black. The outside world becoming muffled within the walls of this van leaving a dense wall of silence.

I stared at the quickly diminishing rays of daylight that streamed in through the windows. Watching the seconds go by as night over took day. The darkness started to take shape causing my eyes to snap close in hopes that it'll stop. But all I could find was my mind buzzing with about with thoughts.

Tomorrow, we'll reach the train line but then what? What'll happen once we get on it? Who's to say that the train lines are dead-free? What's more is that I don't even know a single lick of our new destination. Vince said he knew the guys there, my mind slipping back to the off handed answers he gave each time we asked him.

It was a clan he said. Some fun guys he said. People that owe it to him.

The more I thought, the more my stomach began to swirl about with unease. Having no recollection of any time that I actually stayed at some designated place. No, all I remember was the travel to that small fortune teller's room. Sure, I encountered others. But I don't think raiders count as other company.

A small sigh left my lips as I tried to calm my buzzing mind. Sleep trying to pull me into its waves until I eventually gave in. Allowing myself to drown within it.