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Sketchy and Skeezy were weird.
10k didn’t know half of what they were saying – they kept throwing around inside jokes (or maybe pop culture references? He wasn’t really sure) that made absolutely no sense to him, talking in what was effectively gibberish. If he was around anyone else, 10k would have suspected that it was a secret code of some sorts, something to discuss private matters without him hearing. But after spending upwards of five minutes with the idiots, he highly doubted they were smart or cautious enough to think of that.
“So we were there, up to our waists in Z guts, yeah? Slaughtered the whole lot of them, with nothing more than our bare hands and sheer ingenuity. But guess what happens next? We hear this OTHER horde moving in from the east! What do we do, other than…” Sketchy continued his story, complete with wild hand movements, as Skeezy nodded along enthusiastically. 10k sighed, trying not to listen to his insane ramblings as they trudged along through the forest.
He wondered how Doc was even friends with these… what would Addy call them? Shit-for-brains, she called them before they’d gotten split up. How could Doc make friends with these shit-for-brains? Then again, it was Doc. He could probably make friends with a Z.
The sharpshooter thought back to his allies… well, at this point he may as well say family. Had they left without him, gone on to try and complete the mission? He hoped Doc wouldn’t leave without him but really, it was the life of some weird teenage boy against the fate of the entire human race. It wasn’t much of a choice.
Maybe he’d be able to find them later. Hopefully, he’d be able to find them later. 10k never really had a family outside of his dad, and he was surprised by how much he missed them already.
He was pulled from his melodramatic pondering by a short smack to his shoulder. He came to a stop, glaring up at Skeezy while the older man quickly pulled his hand back.
“Woah kiddo, no need for that sour look!” He laughed nervously, his eyes darting to the sides. He looked like he was regretting his action. Good, 10k thought, starting his slow pace back up. For ‘expert Z hunters’, these guys were really in terrible shape.
“We were just askin’, with that kill count or whatever, what’s that all about?”
10k’s defences went up. He didn’t know these guys, and he wasn’t about to tell the idiots getting him killed about his father or his mission.
“Nothing. Go away.”
“Oh, touchy! Such strong language, you’re getting on Santa’s naughty list. And besides, we’ve all got a tragic past here.” Sketchy finished off his small speech by staring into the distance, his eyebrows furrowed in a poor imitation of thinking. Rather than scoff however, 10k was stuck on the last part of his sentence. More of the weird code. He didn’t know what the hell a ‘Santa’ was, but he decided that he was sick of being clueless.
“What is that?”
“You’re asking about my super-secret backstory? Well, when I was a young boy, my father-“
“No, I mean what’s a Santa?”
Sketchy and Skeezy laughed, throwing their heads back in an exaggeratedly gleeful motion. Skeezy even wiped a fake tear from his eye. The two calmed down after what seemed like an eternity, before turning back to him. They were greeted with a blank, unimpressed stare.
A stunned silence fell over the group. It took 10 a few strides to figure out that the idiots in crime had come to a complete stop, looking wide-eyed at him.
“What?”
“What’s a Santa? ‘A Santa’? Kid, what the hell? You know, big guy with a red coat? Long white beard? Always happy, laughing and shit? Gives the good little boys and girls presents at Yuletide.” At 10k’s continued confusion, Skeezy’s jaw dropped.
“Yuletide? Christmas? The birth of Jesus Christ? Honestly kid, don’t you know what Christmas is?”
10k screwed up his face into another glare. He felt an overwhelming urge to say some things that Warren would not appreciate, and that would make Murphy clap him on the back with a chuckle.
“Ok so, basically, at the end of the year people would celebrate this little demigod baby being born by like… putting up trees and lights and shit, right? And everyone would get each other presents, and this fat guy with a beard called Santa would climb down chimneys and leave presents for all the young boys and girls while they were sleeping. It was a true expression of the wonders capitalism has to offer – I bet those commie bastards never had Christmas-” Sketchy cut his speech short and whipped his head around fast enough to get whiplash when he heard what came out of 10k’s mouth.
Laughter. Real, honest-to-god laughter. When the kid managed to stop himself, he looked from Sketchy to Skeezy.
“Yeah, right. I’m not that gullible.”
“No, no kid, honest!”
“A stranger I don’t know will crash our campsite while I sleep? How will he even now I’m sleeping”
Skeezy nodded aggressively.
“It’s true, it’s true – swear by my mother’s grave, god rest her poor soul!” Sketchy cried.
“And plus, he’s magic. He just… knows when you’re sleeping,” Skeezy tacked on.
A snarky reply rose to his mind but before he could ask, Sketchy (who he really needed to keep a better eye on) let out a cry from in front of them. He jogged up to meet him, and all talk of Santa was pushed to the back of his mind.
***
“Hey Doc?”
Doc looked over to the kid sitting next to him. The two had taken watch together, and up until now the older man had been content sitting in silence with his young counterpart.
“Hm?”
“Is Santa real?” Refusing to meet his eyes, 10k kept staring up at the stars above them. He seemed lost in thought, and so, so young. Doc had almost forgotten how young he was.
He knew Murphy or Vasquez or hell, even Warren would have burst his bubble. And really, Doc knew he should. 10k was 17 for Christ’s sake, he was old enough now. But looking at his thoughtful, wonder filled eyes as 10k gazed upwards, he couldn’t bear to do it.
“Yeah kid, of course! Why do you ask?”
Instead of replying, 10k’s brows furrowed even more. The two lapsed into comfortable silence once again, until 10k broke it.
“How…” he began, still collecting his thoughts.
“How the fuck does he know when I’m sleeping?”