The end of the world really did happen in the blink of an eye.
One day, he was moping and hating everyone around him, the next day he was wrestling with an undead mass. Its teeth snapping to get a taste of his flesh, drool and other types of ooze dripping from its orifice. One hand fumbled to shove it back and away from him, the other reaching behind him to grab the lone blade his mother left on the table from dinner. Gripping the blade in his hand, he thrust it back towards the beat. It was shortly after plunging the blade into the creature’s decaying head, it slumped back and he threw it off.
From there, the world went to shit. Well, it got shittier. The dead picked off the bulk of the population, leaving most of the weirdos and freaks around to pick up the pieces of the world. Most sane people tried to make groups to survive in but most freaks turned to chaos and looting. The kinds of people who went around picking corpses clean for supplies and who’d rob the living at gunpoint to continue surviving. Survival became all that most people knew because if it wasn’t the dead that tore you limb by limb, it would be the living that would make you watch as they killed and looted your entire family before ending your misery.
His first few months, while the world melted into chaos, he spent them alone. He just got in their family car, started it, and begun to drive. With nothing more than a handful of objects he threw into the backseat, he peeled out of the driveway and just started to drive. He didn’t have a plan of where he was going or when he was going to stop. Instead he just shoved a CD into the player and hummed along as he cruised through the chaos.
He wasn’t pulled over until a few hours in, coming across a checkpoint where police attempted to stop and wrangle people into the death camps they called quarantine zones. Cleared people were allowed to pass, anyone deemed a danger was collected.
The blonde fumbled to turn down the rock song blasting from his speakers and to roll down the window when a uniform wearing man strolled up to the car. He tapped on the window with one knuckle, mouth pressed firm together as he took a long look at the boy. The boy sat up and tried his best to look lost but presentable.
“Son, are you all by yourself there?” His tone dripped in a Texan accent, which felt out of place here.
The teenager nodded, frown gracing his lips. It was a hallow frown though, seeing as he felt better being on his own right now. “My mother was eaten by th-those things.” he lied softly, a crack in his words.
“I see…” He trailed off, noticing the blood which had dried onto his hands. “I’m very sorry for you loss young man, but do you have any form of ID on you? I’m going to need to see that.”
He blinked in response, almost in shock by the bureaucratic question. The end of the damn world and he can’t pass a fucking security check because he left his fucking wallet at home. Looking for a way to get out of this with little to no trouble, he swallowed thickly and brushed his fingers through his messy blonde locks. “I don’t-I don’t have it, I was in such a rush to l-leave, all I got was the keys and my coat,” he waved his hand to emphasize, staring up at the man.
The man stared at him for a few moments in response, probably expecting the boy to break and tell him “the truth”.
Doubling down on ignorance, the boy made a small sniffle noise and looked down at his lap, “Pl-please help me, sir,” his words burned his throat to say but he forced himself to look up at the officer as another cry bubbled up, “She didn’t-didn’t bite me, I swear, I just need to get through- My grandma-she can barely walk, and I have to help her.”
He stared for another second before letting out a little sigh, “You know what, alright... Fine,” He gave in. The boy wasn’t sure why but maybe the man had a sore spot for dying grandmothers or something. He leaned in closer to the window, meeting eyes with him, “You go help your old lady out and get down to a safe point.”
“O-oh thank you sir!” he cried back, tone dripping in fake gratefulness as the officer tapped the side of the car to say it was clear.
Once he was out of their line of sight, a more or less numb look formed back on his face and he reached to turn his speakers up once again. As the sounds of Kurt Cobain filled the silence again, a long sigh left him. He was filled with this odd sense of peace as he sped out onto the open road. Tate Langdon was out on the open road, the end of life as they knew it unfolding around him. He had no destination in mind or a plan but that didn’t matter, so he continued to just drive.