Survival

Pushes

Pezzy stared out the window, twisting the ring on his finger. He couldn't believe it'd been two weeks already that this shit started.

They tried their best to keep connected, making sure their fanbase knew they were still alive. They tweeted at least a few times a day, trying to keep it lighthearted. They even managed to stream a couple times on their phones, small, 30 minute streams where they talked about what was going on and that they weren't sure when they were going to be home.

The fans were supportive, though Pezzy noticed a few names missing from his chat. It made his heart hurt, knowing that either they were stuck in this city with them after TwitchCon, or they wouldn't ever return.

During one of the small streams Pezzy had done on his own channel, he'd gotten a message. Hey Pezzy, my sister was a huge fan of yours and even sent me a picture of her meeting you at TwitchCon the day all this shit started. We don't think she's coming home, she hasn't called since that day. Just wanted to say thank you for making her smile these last few years, and I really hope she does get to come home.

Pezzy had nearly broken down, though he knew his face had fallen. "I hope she gets home too man, I hope so too," was all he could say, ending the stream about 5 minutes later.

Droid, Puffer and Grizzy had crowded around him afterwards, Pezzy hiding his face in his hands. "How many of them are gone? How many came for us and never got to go home? Or will never go home?" He had whispered, his friends not saying a word.

What could be said? Pezzy had seen the blood shed that first day, the hundreds of people killed by either those sinkholes or by the creatures. How many were just visiting for TwitchCon? To see him and his friends or other creators? How many of those creators were dead now?

Pezzy clenched his jaw, eyes on the city below him. This survivors guilt was drowning, and the danger wasn't even gone. Those monsters still roamed the streets, though they still weren't able to get out of the city.

California had been evacuated, the neighboring states mostly protected by the mountains or distance. Pezzy knew Tyler and them were worried for Vanoss, Terroriser and Basically, since they lived closest, but knew they'd been evacuated.

Tyler had told them to go to his house in Tennessee, Basically knowing where the key was. From what Pezzy heard, all of their friends who were safe had traveled there, waiting for Tyler, Anthony and Scotty to get home.

Kelly and Chrissy, Tyler's fiancée and Scotty's wife, were at home. Pezzy knew they talked every night, the two men missing their girls desperately.

Pezzy just wanted them to get home. All of them. He wanted the monsters killed, or sent back to wherever they came from. He wanted to go to bed and wake up and find that this whole thing was a drunken nightmare, that the only thing he'd have to worry about was nursing a hangover at TwitchCon.

He felt hands land on his shoulders, the familiar soft touch showing it was Droid. He didn't react, his body still tense. He saw one of those monsters stalking down the road a few blocks away, the familiar pulse of fear and anger warming in his stomach.

He stepped back finally and closed the curtains, turning to face Droid. "You doing alright?" He asked softly and Pezzy sighed, tucking his hands into his pockets.

"I'm just, tired of all this. I want to go home. I want to sleep in my own bed, and hold Sly. I know she's mad at me for being gone for so long," he mumbled, Droid chuckling humorlessly.

"We'll get home, I'll make sure you see Sly again," he promised and Pezzy sighed, glancing at the curtained window.

"Come on, everyone's meeting in Puffers and Grizzy's room," Droid said softly, Pezzy nodding as he followed him out of the room.