Chapter Text
The night was cool and calm with the sound of a light wind rustling the autumn trees around the rustic cowboy. The sun had long set beyond and behind the rolling hills, yet the sky was still alight in its dusk. The sky was painted in tones of violets and reds, and the hills and trees were long painted black in the night’s shadow.
The only light and warmth came from Mccree’s cigarillo, the warm embers, and smoke that dimly lit the man under the hat.
Jesse Mccree pulled his scrape a little closer as another cold draft swept the hills. Mccree entertained the thought that he could start a fire, but there was no telling what it would attract, the desperate living, or the dead.
Sometimes, in quiet times like these, Mccree would sit and ponder which he could be considered, living or dead? Half the world was pretty much dead as it was, well the world he lived in was anyway. Could he even consider himself to be living? It felt much more like surviving than it ever felt like living, rationing food and water, always on the run, and company could be risky to keep.
As if noticing his owner’s wandering thoughts, the buckskin stallion took ahold of Mccree’s hat, earning a glare from the cowboy.
“Aye now, give that back, Buckeye it ain’t funny!” he scolded, but Buckeye only winnied and walked away with a swish of his tail.
Mccree shook his head and rolled his eyes with a grin on his face before getting up off the cool, dry grass. Buckeye effectively began to pick up the pace, mischief in every step.
“Come on boy, it’s too late for this kinda play, I gotta wake up early as it is,” he said walking after his horse. Buckeye only chuffed as he turned to face his cowboy, and began to run circles around him.
Mccree put his hands on his hips, raising a brow, “ C’mon’ Buckeye, ya know I ain’t gonna be able to catch up ta’ ya.” Despite saying that aloud, Mccree still ran in circles after his horse, laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation.
Finally, Buckeye slows down and comes to a complete stop in front of Mccree. Mccree smiled, taking the hat and placing it on his horse’s head.
“What, you were mighty interested in stealin’ it a while ago, thought you might just might wanna wear it,” Mccree teased, petting his stallion down the side of his neck.
Buckeye took a step closer, resting his large head on Jesse’s shoulder, the hat now had fallen down onto the ground. Jesse didn’t mind it much as he reaches up with both hands to hug his horse’s neck.
“Yeah, I know bud, Im’a miss you too. But you know you can’t come along, it’s too dangerous. You ain’t got room to run in the city like ya do in the hills and woods, you don’t know what’s in those alleys ready ta’ pounce. Now dontcha worry about me, you know I always come back. Who knows, some stranger might come by with a fresh apple to feed ya,” he said with a tone of optimism, but Buckeye only chuffed again.
“Alright maybe not the apple part, but I’ll come back with somethin’ tasty,” he said, lightly patting his back before moving to pick up his hat and move back under the tree he sat under. Buckeye dutifully followed, standing next to his cowboy.
The sun was long gone by now, and with no light from the dead city not too far away, the stars and moon finally reclaim the night as their domain. ‘Maybe some beauty is to come yet from the hell of it all,’ Mccree would think to himself every time he looked up at the stars at night.
When Jesse finally let out a big yawn, he laid his bedroll out, using his human arm as a pillow under him while his prosthetic lays atop his gun under the covers. Peacekeeper always had to be in his hand while he slept, an old habit from his Deadlock days, where you never know what you’d wake up to or without.
Soon, sleep finally took it’s grasp onto Jesse Mccree as his eyes fluttered shut, the sound of the rustling trees and the warmth of his scrape and covers lulled him deep into his mind.
Suddenly, he was 17 again, the city around him was bustling and hustling. The streets were filled with the murmurs of people, the honking of cars, and the music between street performers and radio’s blasting. He always hated having to come into the city, always so crowded and felt all so claustrophobic, Jesse much preferring the open terrain the ranch had offered him.
He was there on behalf of his boss, as he ordered some extra feed they had needed for the ranch and had sent Mccree to pick it up. It seemed easy enough not counting the traffic he’d have to go through, but Jesse Mccree didn’t mind as he could sing along with the radio or text his pal’s at the ranch while he waited.
He couldn’t exactly remember what song he was singing along to, and even the last message he sent when he suddenly noticed the chaos outside and that godforsaken beep of the broadcast interruption. When he looked up, people were running and hopping out of their cars, and the screams were faint among the alarming noise on the radio. The music was long since interrupted, and a warning announcement was played on repeat instead.
“The following message is a countrywide alert, a deadly disease has begun to rapidly spread among the population. Symptoms include an increase in irritation, salvation, pupil dilation, intense migraines, and aggressive behavior. If you are near anyone with these symptoms, remain calm and move away as quick as possible, do not get bit, or have their blood enter any open wound-”
Mccree had zoned out, even more confused as he stepped out of the car and into the chaotic streets of the city. People brushed past his shoulder, nearly knocking off his hat. Suddenly, everything seemed to have gone mute around him.
He finds himself face to face towards someone, no, it felt more like a something to him. The man was sickly pale, and eyes bloodshot and wide. He salvates like a starved lion whose face to face with prey he could not find in weeks. Pupils dilated, heavy breathing, almost growling, and body shuddering as they have a stare down. Finally, it takes a step forward, and when Mccree startles, it begins to sprint.
Jesse Mccree suddenly finds himself jumping over the hood of his truck and dashing with the others on the street. He can feel it’s eye burrowing into his skin, set on him like a predator.
Mccree drifted into an alley, running for his life, as now several of the feral people had begun to chase him among others who had followed in hopes of a chance to escape. they were met by a warehouse, it’s closed doors felt more of a refuge than the eventual collapse of exhaustion and become the prey of the predators that kept on their heels.
As they reached the warehouse large doors, they attempted to pull it open only to find it locked shut. In a panic, Mccree and the three others began to bang on the door.
They implored and begged, the dread that rooted into their stomachs began to free fall and expand by every passing second.
Then Mccree heard it, the click, the lock becoming undone, but he froze in front of the door as the man and woman next to him are tackled onto the ground, screaming in agony as they were eaten alive by the feral cannibals. That was his fate, wasn’t it? He thought to himself, and was frozen on the spot as he looked back to see the third feral charge at him, only to be violently pulled back into the shed, shivering scared on the floor as he looked up at his saviors and the bloodied bodies of what he could no longer tell if they were men or feral. The unmistakable sound of rapid gunfire and empty shells hitting the ground blasted behind him before hearing the warehouse door shut out on the daylight, and locking.
Mccree awoke with a gasp and his eyes snapped open. His cold sweat felt like touching steel in winter, as the chilly autumn air blew, and the first light of dawn began to just barely shine through. He laid there for a moment, trying to regain his breath and calm his nerves.
He took a deep breath and quietly sat up, he held his head in his hands and thought about his dream, no, his first memories of encountering the undead. He was so reluctant to call them what they were, he thought before that there was still hope, a cure, a chance for them all to be human again. After all, he’d seen an odd anomaly before, a strange case the man had been.
His thoughts were interrupted by a loving nudge and a small, thoughtful, nicker. Mccree couldn’t help but smile and reach up to softly rub Buckeye’s nose.
“ I swear you can smell my distress from a while away,” he says quietly aloud to his horse, his best friend. Jesse gives a long, relieving sigh before getting up. He’d make breakfast, eat with Buckeye, brush him, then give him a big ol’ hug before leaving into the city. It was always hard having to leave his only companion behind, but he would never risk his life for his own.
He never liked to think it was his last time with Buckeye, but in this world, you can never be too sure. Things were given by luck and taken by a whim out here, and it been this way for 15 years. Maybe he was just good enough to keep Buckeye alive with him, maybe it was luck. At least Buckeye would have a life to live, should Mccree ever die or reanimate, with no doubt several mustangs were running wild, if not the runaway farm horse, living the wildlife like their cousins.
The sun had just begun to peak over the hills, restoring the autumn colors to the world once more. The sun gave off just enough warmth to make the chilly winds bearable, if not somewhat comforting.
Jesse Mccree gave Buckeye one last hug, and he could feel Buckeye pull him closer with his head as he ran his fingers through his pelt and mane.
“I’ll be back, Buckeye. Besides, when have I ever broken a promise?” Mccree says, and Buckeye chuffs.
“Okay, that was one time with the apple thing!” Mccree defended, only to laugh to himself, as Buckeye softly winnies. Mccree gives a long sigh, resting his head against Buckeye’s, “I’ll come back like I always do.” he said one more time, but this time, he felt like he was more reminding himself rather than his horse.
Mccree stepped back, grabbed his loose pack, and headed back towards the road not too far off. He looks back one last time and finds that Buckeye, although staying behind like he knows he's supposed to, watches him walk away, ears perked and head up.
He turned back around and towards the road, he was headed to where it all started for him. The sooner he goes in, the sooner he’ll be out.