CnS: Infection Part 2

“Guys?” Rydel stood up from his position leaned over the edge of the roof.
“Yeah?” Azreal thumbed the brim of his hat upwards to look at the elf.
“You notice how they haven't touched the horses?”
There was a moment of consideration, broken by Krongel, “Can anyone else feel a terrible plan coming?”

“This is a terrible plan.” Azreal turned his knife over in his hands as he peered sceptically down into the zombie-flooded streets.
“We could leave you on the roof.” Rydel looked back and forth, estimating distances.
“Saturday, you're often sane, back me up here.”
“What can I say, little man, I enjoy not starving to death.” Saturday shrugged.
“Still, I feel like we should maybe take some time to think this over.” There was a sound that might well have been a hoard of zombies breaking through a hastily-constructed barricade.
“Go.” Rydel nodded, pointed, and leapt off the roof, Saturday following after a split second.
“Come on.” Krongel picked Azreal up by the torso and jumped off after them.
When the world rushing past came to a sudden halt, Azreal oriented himself on the horse and fumblingly slashed at the rope tethering it to the bar's porch. Krongel cracked the reins and the horse eagerly bolted through the zombie crowd. Azreal hastily held his hat to his head, then tried his best to become very very small.
“Comfy?” Azreal realised he was very close indeed to Krongel, an arm around the masked figures waist. He swallowed his pride and elected to just shut up and try not to get bit.
A quick glance around Krongel revealed Saturday and Rydel had also gotten away on their horse, and were making their way through the zombie. Under Rydel's guidance, their horse reared and struck a zombie in the jaw with its hoof before settling and bolting through the opening. Mr Saturday remained ineffably unflappable.
“Were there always this many streets?”
“We're almost home free, Az.” Rydel called back.
The crowd began to thin and eventually the last grasping hand was gone behind them, and Azreal felt a wave of relief. With automatic slowness, he loosened his grip on Krongel and sat up properly.

Azreal all but fell off the horse and landed on his back in the dirt. “That was a terrible plan.”
“It worked, didn't it?” Rydel dismounted with confidence.
“We'll see.” Saturday swung down after him, “Everyone roll up your sleeves and pant legs.”
“What?”
“We need to make sure no-one was bit. That's how it's transmitted.
“So if I've got a scratch on me you take my arm?” Krongel jumped down, “No thank you.”
Azreal looked wistfully towards the town from the desert floor, “We should have brought that whiskey...”
“I'm not going to wait for another of us to turn into one of them. Sleeves.” Saturday looked with suspicion from person to person.
“Look, if we'd been bitten, our clothes would be bitten too, right?” Azreal rolled lazily onto his side, “No way we could hide it.” After a few seconds, he unbuttoned his cuffs and pulled his sleeves a few inches. He held his bare forearms above him before letting them drop lazily back down to the ground.
Rydel followed suit, rolling his sleeves up. Saturday looked to Krongel.
“I'm not taking my clothes off for you.”
 “I was on the same horse, I'd know if Mask got bit.” Azreal pulled himself up into a sitting position and re-buttoned his cuffs.
Saturday turned away.
“So I vote we ride east. Until we hit somewhere with food in it. And preferably some gold. And no guns.” Azreal started smiling to himself as he reached the end of the sentence.
“While we're dreaming, can I throw in some dancing girls?” Rydel smiled and sat down beside Azreal.
“Good call.”
Krongel turned away towards the sun.
“Looks like we have plenty of daylight left.”
Saturday turned back, “I agree. We can get more riding done today.”
Rydel and Azreal groaned.
“But we just defied death! Can't we take a break?” Azreal pulled his hat backwards over his head.
“Let me tell you, that landing didn't make riding for the rest of the day a pleasant idea.” Rydel shivered.
“Five minutes.” Saturday conceded. There was a faint groan of reluctant assent.
“So what kind of dancing girls were you thinking?”