[SP] Button-Up Brigade

Two young men clad in bright, floral print button-ups stand together with perfectly coiffed hair and drenched Persian arrogance, wafting into the air around them to serve cease and desist letters to their "haters." Squad goals dictated that they meet up outside of Del Playa Boulevard. Just to prove that they weren't afraid of the infected. Because members of SAE embody the motto "True Gentlemen."

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Bryson turned to Jarrod before looking at the wreckage from Del Topia, six months had passed, but there was still a fleet of burned-out cars in the street. An overturned coach bus served as the centerpiece of the destruction. The UCSB emblem was still clinging to the side with an uncharacteristic ferocity to most of the school.

"I heard there's a safe haven up in Canada. The infection hasn't made it there yet." Bryson offered.

"And?" Annoyance sparked through Jarrod's tone.

"You'd just have to make it to Manitoba to be safe!" Bryson said enthusiastically.

"Are you even listening to yourself, Bryson?! Manitoba? I'll take my chances here. At least we have hair products and smoothies. Besides, they have nature up there." Jarrod's tone darkened. "And that's the real apocalypse."

"But Jarrod!-" Bryson's hair quivered anxiously.

"But nothing! Give it six more months, and this whole "infection" thing will burn itself out. It's just like the Kardashians. Eventually, the Earth will get tired of it."

"I'm not sure that example works... Aren't they still going to film their new show?"

"Just stop. You're really negative right now."

"I'm just worried about getting caught by one of those things, though..." Bryson said, lifting his head to scan the street.

"Well, are you still doing your CrossFit exercises?" Jarrod asked with the tone of a disapproving fifties housewife.

"Yeah, but I'm not sure how doing box jumps, and muscle-ups are going to help."

"It's all about improving your explosiveness. We'll be like those Russian parkour guys if we run into those dumb meat bags," A smug grin crossed Jarrod's Ken doll features.

"Wouldn't it be safer to leave, though?" Confusion marked Bryson's voice.

"And give up prime beach realty? You're not thinking long term, Bryson. I'm beginning to think you didn't pay attention in our economics classes. Buy low, sell high. It's that simple!" Jarrod waved his arms in frustration as the two of them failed to notice one of the bushes shake down the street, in spite of a windless day.

"This isn't a class, though! There are actual monsters out there. I even heard people had seen weird creatures in the ocean lately. I think it would just be safer to get out of town." Bryson shuddered.

"Creatures in the ocean? There aren't any infected in there. Don't be stupid. It was probably just some inner-city kid who's never seen a seal before." Jarrod's affectation when saying "inner-city kid" gave the mental image of fine china and stiff necks.

"Can we just get out of here?" Anxiety crept into Bryson's voice like a twelve-year-old about to meet Hannah Montana.

"Dude, nobody else is here yet. We can't just bail on the gang like that. What would Brody, Skyler, Lance, and Chad think? What's wrong with you? First, this nervous talk, now you're trying to break the bro code? Not chill, Bryson. Not chill." Jarrod fumed as he thumbed the black screen of his dead iPhone.

A closer bush began to shake in the distance. Jarrod turned to look at the beach, leaving his back to the street.

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Bryson's knees started to knock together like an overly affectionate couple when the next bush began to shake. He tried to channel his inner James Bond, but he wasn't British, sophisticated, or capable. The only thing they had in common was binge drinking. He turned to warn Jarrod when two figures shot out of the bush. A shriek escaped Bryson as he wrenched Jarrod's arm towards him.

"Gotcha!" Lance laughed as he and Brody slowed to a walk. Their similarly coiffed hair was still in immaculate condition.

"Did one of you scream, or was that a bird dying?" Brody asked, wiggling a finger in his ear.

"I'm surprised your pants didn't get a Taco Bell special," Lance smirked.

"Not chill, guys, not fucking chill." Jarrod paused before laughing. "Bryson almost died of fright. We don't want a repeat of Rush week if there isn't a toilet around." Bryson fixed his eyes on the ground. Red-tipped ears betrayed his shame. Rush was three years ago, but they still liked to reference their laxative donut prank. They had him eat one right before a game of Edward forty hands. Shit stained shame marked his soul. He'd never forget that walk home with bottles of malt liquor still taped to his hands. He learned at that moment that things come in go in life, friends, girls, even God. But you can always rely on one thing. Khakis will never lie.

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"Funny stuff, guys," Bryson said, gritting his teeth. "Where are Skyler and Chad?"

"Yeah, weren't they supposed to be headed here with you two?" Jarrod asked, looking back down the street.

"They're not here already?" Lance asked and shared a confused look with Brody.

"Do you see them here?" Jarrod's alpha gaze snapped back into place.

"Well, no... But I don't know, man, we just got here. They left before Lance and me. They were stoked to be back on the beach." Brody offered.

Bryson looked back down to the beach when he saw a ragged looking Skyler stumble out of the dunes. Alarm bells went off in Bryson's mind when he noticed Skyler's hair had lost its coif.

"Guys... I think I found Skyler." Bryson said, pointing towards Skyler's new shuffle.

"Well, that figures. What a fucking rookie! I heard all the freshmen in Alpha Tau Omega were all turned. Everyone got their paddles?" Jarrod growled as he dug his wooden paddle out of his backpack. The group did the same as they kept their eyes on the beach.

"Woah! Didn't you drill holes in your paddle, Bryson? Come on! Sometimes I don't understand how you got into Sigma Pi. You never follow the rules!" Lance chastised Bryson as the group shook their heads.

"Can we talk about this another time? It looks like Skyler heard us." Bryson said as he stepped away from the beach. He took another quick step back when he saw Skyler wasn't alone. A group of infected moved towards the button-up brigade with their mangled bodies and gore covered clothes.

"Paddles up, boys!" Jarrod's voice cracked with fear. Lance and Brody flanked Jarrod as the infected started to reach the beginning of the street. The three of them made their best interpretation of the Spartans at Thermopylae. Only, their training was in indulgence and avarice.

Thoughts of Edward Forty-hands, paddle practice, and bathroom bullying flashed through Bryson's mind. His hands tightened on his paddle and raised it behind Jarrod. He took a breath, and the blank rage died as he laughed at the stupidity of it all. Zombie apocalypse ravaging humanity and thoughts of revenge were still in his mind.

He turned and ran. But not before giving Jarrod a push towards the infected.

He heard his scream, shortly joined by Lance's and Brody's as he sprinted down Del Playa. He'd be damned, but he thought it sounded like freedom.

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