As Kevin sat up from his sleep, he saw the way Max fixed his eyes on him with a kind of dark look that suggested there was nothing sweet or beautiful about whatever he had on his mind.
If anything, the look was meant to kill.
"Morning, Max." He greeted, trying not to look in the other man's eyes. "What a time to be alive."
"What a time to be alive, indeed." Max repeated, looking away and affording Kevin a moment's breath.
He turned and saw where the zombie's ashes remained after he burned them, and turning to Max, saw how grumpy the sergeant looked.
"How bad did the zombie throw you? Still hurts?"
"Quite. But I know how to carry on with it."
Kevin nodded, pushing himself backwards to rest his back against the doors of one of the kitchen cabinets so that he could keep an eye on Max. He did not like the way the other man looked at him, and he put considerable distance between themselves.
What did he even know about him?
Not a lot, except that he had first met the man making a fire in his kitchen and was only happy to find another person breathing and living in this dying, ghostly city, and that all the man had given away about himself was his name, his story, which could have been lies, and the fact that he was in the military, or paramilitary or some force… Kevin could barely remember.
It was in this pondering state of mind that Kevin remembered who he was, the new man he had become with the Allfather's technology. Everything within 3.5 cubic metres of him was under his control, and so would Max be if only he would dare to come close enough.
At that moment, the idea struck him.
What if Max Johnson was the Allfather?
For sure, he did not have much proof, and neither did Max show any behaviours that he would expect from whosoever the Allfather was, like possessing a deep technical know-how of anything relating to science or knowing at least a bit about the mysterious glow that had saved him from the zombie just the previous day.
None of that would really indicate that he was, but still yet, he could only just be pretending, and given that he knew so much about the zombies, a bit too much for anyone who was not their creator to…
"We were supposed to tell each other stories of what happened to us, Max. We should share our painful misery and existence in this dead city that way, and if possible, pat each other on the back on a job of survival so well done."
"Indeed." Max answered, finally looking at something on the ground. "But who among the both of us is to tell his story first?"
"You should."
No sooner had he said the words that he saw Max look at him sharply, his eyes still bearing that dark look. Kevin breathed, returning the look as well as he possibly could while remembering his gun in his pocket, which was thankfully not in his cubic metre storage.
"One move towards me and I will shoot him dead." He thought to himself.
"As you say." Max smiled. "Where do you want me to start?"
"Tell me about yourself."
"I am the Allfather."
The two men locked eyes in deathly silence, but only for a split second. Within the five that came after that, Kevin was pointing his pistol at Max, who was doing the same with his machine gun, holding it in his hands as they moved in a circle like two fighting lions, each waiting for a hint of weakness to attack.
Kevin knew he was the man with the disadvantage here. He only knew how to use a pistol, while the man across held an entire machine gun, and would as well kill him in seconds, but not unless he shot first and could sufficiently find a way to escape being shot by the machine gun.
"Why, Kevin?" Max asked, looking him dead in the eyes. "You seem to know who the Allfather is, don't you?"
"Did he not just say he was the one across from me, revealing his evil self in a Freudian slip?"
"I swear I'm going to kill you for doing this to this city!" Max yelled, still holding his gun. "How could you watch all of this happen and sit comfortable in your home? Why did you even do it?"
"Do what?" Kevin asked, lowering his gun this time and standing still as Max pointed his gun at his chest. He had made sure to stand so that he was close to the hole in the wall where the large zombie had broken through, and he tried to think of a way of escaping from Max through it.
"You think I am the Allfather?"
"What else do you want me to think? A zombie that big attacks you and you escape unscathed and untouched. You even levitate things around you, Kevin. What do you want me to bloody think?"
"I can explain that, Max, and it is far different from what you think. Just put that gun down."
"No!" Max barked. "It was all you. You stole the virus and created these zombies, and you made us deal with it. Before my very eyes, your creatures took down a man I had been speaking to only moments before, and they would have taken me if I did not stand there to fight them. One of your creatures took me and threw me against a wall, and you made that feeble attempt to save me to deflect suspicion."
"I swear to God… Max, you have it all wrong. None of that is damn true." Kevin yelled, pointing his pistol again. "Why would I sit in the midst of them all and be confused when you speak about them?"
"What kind of criminal gives themselves away?" Max fired back.
"Put that damn gun down and let us talk." Kevin yelled again.
And just then, a loud shot rang out.