The Swimming Dead

[Young Nug]

Since Walking Community has fallen by the wayside and we don't have another Walking Dead inspired spin-off or lit, it's looking high tide time we SpongeBob-ify it. 

 

 

First episode April 3rd.

 

Season 1

1. Days Gone Dahahahahaha - Part 1

2. Days Gone Dahahahahaha - Part 2

[Old Man Jenkins]

*cough* The Walking Sponge *cough*

But being a huge WD fan, can't wait to see this!

[Clappy]

Can't wait man.

 

Edited May 29, 2018 by Harold Claude

[Young Nug]

Season 1: Episode 1: Days Gone Dahahahahaha - Part 1

 

It was a warm day in Jellyfish Fields. The jellyfish buzzed around, floating in synchronized harmony, the current breezed by through the water (however that works), and the grass shimmered. SpongeBob and Patrick were leaning against a rock, looking at the sky and talking, their assorted jellyfishing items spread out all over the general vicinity.

 

“Patrick, it’s so relaxing out here, y’know?” SpongeBob said dreamily.

 

“Yeah. I could stay out here forever.” Patrick said. There was silence for a few minutes.

 

“And ever.” Patrick added. SpongeBob nodded.
 

“It’s great to get away from some of the more annoying people in Bikini Bottom and just...y’know. Jellyfish and get my mind off of them.”

 

“What’d you mean, buddy?” Patrick asked.

 

“Oh, I just mean, people like...Pearl.” SpongeBob said, staring at a jellyfish that swam by. “She’s been around the Krusty Krab more lately, and Mr. Krabs wants us to get along, but there’s no way it’s gonna happen. She spat out my patty the other day and said it was trash!” SpongeBob sat up, irritated and fuming. “I would never say something that cruel to her.”

 

“You could always light her on fire.” Patrick said nonchalantly. SpongeBob stared at him for a moment before breaking out into a laugh. Patrick laughed after a while too. Then, he sat up immediately, pointing at a translucent jellyfish floating through the air.

 

“SpongeBob! It’s a six-stinger aurelia! They’re so rare!” Patrick shouted. The two quickly gathered up their jellyfishing supplies, loaded it all up into the bag, and gave chase to the jellyfish.

 

= = =

 

It was now late afternoon, and SpongeBob and Patrick were crouched behind a rock, peering over. The rock in question was at the top of a cliff, and below, in the flatlands, was the biggest swarm of different and colorful jellyfish SpongeBob or Patrick had ever seen, all flying in five or six distinct circles.

 

“There are so many of them…” SpongeBob muttered. “More than I think I’ve ever seen at a time!”

 

“Yeah! There’s like, hundreds of them out there!” Patrick muttered in awe. “I’m gonna go touch all of them!” Patrick jumped from behind the rock and began running over, but SpongeBob gripped his backfat and pulled him back over.

 

“Patrick, one run through that field, and you’ll be stung until you can’t breathe! We can’t catch any of those jellyfish. Wayyyyy too many.” SpongeBob said. Patrick huffed.

 

“Maybe I want to get stung. You don’t know me, man.” SpongeBob frowned and turned back towards the herd, seven circles of jellyfish flying in the afternoon sun. He paced back and forth.

 

“C’mon, SpongeBob!” Patrick whined. It’s a beautiful sight, man! We’ve gotta interact somehow!” SpongeBob nodded in agreement. Then, he snapped his fingers.

 

“Eureka!” He ran to the jellyfishing duffel bag and pulled out a camera.

 

“We can’t go anywhere near the herds, but we can definitely take a picture to remember forever!” SpongeBob patted the camera and smiled. Then, he ran to the edge of the cliff and took a knee. He held the camera at several wildly different angles.

 

“Hm….No….That’s not right...Nuh-uh…” SpongeBob muttered, trying to get the perfect shot of the beautiful scene. Patrick noticed that with every different pose SpongeBob took, he moved closer and closer to the cliff’s edge.

 

“Hey, Sponge, be careful-”
 

“Patrick, I know what I’m doing.” SpongeBob said, cutting his friend off. He tried a few more angles, then found one he was happy with. He smiled, and snapped a picture. He stood up and turned around.

 

“See Patrick? Nothing to worry about. I’m fine.”

 

Or, at least he was, until a jellyfish came up from behind and stung him.

 

What happened next was shameful and inevitable. SpongeBob yelped and jumped backwards a bit, grabbing his head, where he had been stung. That little leap sent him tumbling all the way down the hill, and into the herd of jellyfish. When SpongeBob pulled himself out of the crumpled heap he arrived in, he looked at the herds of angry jellyfish surrounding him and sighed. He looked back up at the cliff.

 

“SPONGEBOB!” Patrick yelled. “ARE YOU OKAY?” SpongeBob stared back for a minute.

 

“Well-” SpongeBob began. And then the angry hordes of jellyfish converged on SpongeBob, and the only thing Patrick heard for a long time were screams and zaps. They weren’t pleasant.

 

= = =

 

The next parts of SpongeBob’s life came to him in awkward lurches and phases. Long periods of black, followed by hazy periods of actual life, before the periods of black again. First, a dark period. When SpongeBob regained consciousness, it was a view of Jellyfish Fields shrinking away and Patrick’s voice. He was on Patrick’s back. Everything hurt.

 

“Don’t worry, buddy, stay with me, stay with me! You’re gonna be fine! I’m gonna get you the best medical care that ten bucks and a half eaten donut can buy.” SpongeBob groaned and everything went dark.

 

Then, an awakening.

 

There was a bright light shining above him. He heard voices, but could only see the light, and he could only see it hazily.

 

“Is he gonna be alright, doc?” Patrick.

 

“I’m...Not sure, son.” Doctor Gill Gilliam, for sure.

 

“What? He has to be okay!”

 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Star, but he has severe jellyfish stings on nearly 90 percent of his body! I’ve never seen anyone live through something like this.”

 

“SpongeBob is tough, doctor! You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

 

“Well, okay. I just don’t know if we’ll be able to take care of him and all this other business…”

 

“Other business?”

 

Black. The black lasted for a while, SpongeBob felt. It was comfortable. Suddenly, life came rushing back in. A filtered, hazy version of it, where he couldn’t talk and could barely see, but still, it was life. He was on his side now. From what he could see, Patrick and two other tall figures were sitting next to his bed, arguing.

 

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea to bring Sam in. She seems...Unstable.” A nasally voice said. He made a movement SpongeBob couldn’t detect. He couldn’t see well at all.

 

“She’s not just unstable, she’s crazy. Trust me, I know her.” another nasally voice said indignantly. Somehow, it was different from the first one.

 

“She’s my sister, and we’re bringing her with us. Sorry if that hurts any feelings.”

 

There was silence for a minute.

 

“...How’s he doing?”

 

“The swelling’s gone down, way down. We dunno much except for that.”

 

Blackness again. This black period felt different. More like sleep to him. When the blackness ended this time, SpongeBob felt stronger. The dark rushed away, and the world SpongeBob was greeted to was far clearer. Patrick was standing above him, looking down. There were tears in his eyes. His face looked dirty.

 

“Hey, buddy…” He started. He gulped. “Look, man, I got you your favorite flowers. The Kelp Daisies, right? You told me those were your favorites… I remembered that.”

 

SpongeBob’s sight was a lot better. The flowers were vibrant and bright purple with red spots. Patrick had grown out some hair. He moved and there were mirror images flipping around SpongeBob’s vision when Patrick did so. It was early morning.

 

“I can’t stay long-”

 

There was a crash from outside. Patrick looked towards the direction of the sound and quickly turned back.

 

“I can’t stay long, SpongeBob. I only have one thing to say.” He grabbed SpongeBob’s hand.

 

“You’re my brother, man.” SpongeBob smiled.

 

“Patrick, it’s okay. Stay a little while more.” SpongeBob reached up to grab his friend’s other hand, and then he blinked.

 

Then Patrick wasn’t there.

 

SpongeBob blinked a few times.

 

Everything was different.

 

SpongeBob’s hospital room was still small and cozy and clean, but something was different. It was silent. Dead. The machine next to his hospital bed was no longer working. He turned to the kelp flowers left on his bedside table, and gasped when he saw they were dead. He sat up slowly and looked around. He coughed and stood up. It took him a while, but he got to his feet. He had no shoes, his hospital gown was light blue and polka-dotted. SpongeBob pulled the IV out of his arm and took a step, and immediately crashed to the ground. He was very weak and still groggy. He looked around and felt that it was nighttime. How had time passed so quickly?

 

“Nurse!” SpongeBob screamed. There was no reply, just a slight rustling coming from the door. “NURSE!” He yelled louder. No one replied. No one came. SpongeBob's struggle to stand up was great, but with some assistance from the wall, he managed to get to his feet. He shuffled to the door, leaned against it, and pushed it open, with great effort on his part. He stepped into the hallway and looked at the door. A hospital bed had been shoved against it. SpongeBob stared at the bed for a long while, wondering who put it there, and more importantly, why. He began walking the other way, but looked back at the bed and the room as he made his way down the hallway.

 

And what a hallway it was. Glass shards and trash were strewn everywhere. The lights flickered, and pipes hung from the ceiling, torn down from the tiles. SpongeBob took all of this in as he ambled down the hallway, a million questions swirling through his head. He couldn't answer one of them.He turned down a hallway, the lights still flickering. At the end of the hallway was a pair of doors with writing adorned. SpongeBob ambled ever closer and squinted at the words.

 

“Don’t Open,” he read, “Dead inside.” He crept closer, like the yellow idiot he was. As he did, moaning became audible. He stopped for a minute, and looked around. He started creeping closer again, and then he went white. The double doors were boarded up and chained and locked, but there was a gap inbetween the doors. Fins began clawing through the gap. But these fins weren’t normal. They were grey. Many looked grody, grey, and some had flesh hanging off in tatters and tears.

 

Some were stained in blood.

 

The moans grew louder, raspier. Hungrier. The doors buckled. The fins clawed at the doors.

 

SpongeBob began hobbling the other direction as fast as he could. He resumed his hobble-run down the main hallway, getting to a flight of stairs. As he opened the door, he went through the directions from the hospital to his house. The stairs weren’t long, but he felt he had a lot of time to think.

 

= = =

 

The light of the outside was blinding, at first, but it became tolerable after a while. The blindness ended up being better than the real world.

 

Body bags. That's all SpongeBob saw lined up, stacked up, in rows and columns in the hospital parking lot. Everything passed by in a blur. SpongeBob vaguely remembered clambering up a hill and seeing all of the sea tanks, all of the tents and army supplies, empty boxes of guns. Running through the camp. Into the outskirts of Conch Street. Finding a unicycle left in the sand.

 

What was a vivid memory, however, was what happened after that.

 

Pulling back the unicycle, SpongeBob noticed a fin gripping it. He followed the hand to the body it was attached to and screamed. A deep brown fish, eyeless and moaning. No legs. Just a torso, head, and arms. The fin that ran down it’s back was ragged and ripped, as if it had been mutilated by hand. It’s very face was almost skeletal, and it was, of course, stained in certain sparse areas with blood. SpongeBob yanked away the unicycle, still staring at the decrepit fish in horror, which growled at him hungrily. He leaned against the unicycle, using it as a rolling crutch, and made his way further down Conch Street.

 

The houses he passed on the way were dank (), broken down, or abandoned. SpongeBob remembered being deeply afraid. The water was a dark evening purple, and bubbles bubbled up, but things were still. The scallops didn’t chirp - as a matter of fact, there were no scallops to speak of. The urchins still crawled, but they looked much sicklier. SpongeBob shuddered in fear as he made it closer and closer to his goal.The underwater sun sank lower and lower into the sky.  

 

SpongeBob remembered the pit in his stomach when he arrived at his Pineapple, and how beaten down and dead it was. He remembered running in, yelling for Gary, for Patrick, Squidward, Sandy, Mr. Krabs, his mom and dad, anyone. He remembered running around his house for hours, yelling his voice out. He remembered sitting down in his living room, with all of its furniture gone, curling into a fetal position, and rocking back and forth.

 

“Is this a dream? Where am I?” He would yell to himself. “Wake up, SpongeBob. WAKE UP!” He would hit himself repeatedly in the head. It didn’t work. This was all real.

 

So now, SpongeBob was sitting on the planks outside of Squidward’s house, wondering what to do, tears forming in his eyes. He looked up at the quickly darkening sky. What was he going to do now that there was no one-

 

A fish was walking down the street. SpongeBob’s weary face broke out into a smile. The fish was further down in the street, and covered in shadow, and his walk was slow.

 

“Hey!” He yelled. “Hey, mister fish guy! Come here! I’m SpongeBob SquarePants!”

 

The fish began walking towards him.

 

“What’s your name?” SpongeBob called.

 

“Brah! Shut your dumb ass up!” SpongeBob blinked. That voice didn’t come from the fish walking. SpongeBob looked around. Suddenly, SpongeBob looked up, and saw a fish leap out of Squidward’s second floor window and land in front of him. This fish had a reef blower on his back, and a hood on, so SpongeBob couldn’t see it’s face. The fish ran up to the fish walking down the road, hit him in the head with the blower’s handle, and then turned on the reef blower, blowing concentrated breeze water into the face of the fish, ripping it’s very face and skin from it’s body.

 

“What are you doing?!” SpongeBob yelled. “You’re killing that man!” SpongeBob stood up, but then a giant shovel was slammed into his face and he fell back down. He gurgled as blood bubbled in his mouth.

 

“Gary…” SpongeBob murmured as he started to fall into the lull of unconsciousness. Again.

 

The fish with the shovel stood over SpongeBob looked over him with an angry look as the reef blower fish returned to the front of Squidward’s house.

 

“Look, dude! I got this sum’bitch good!”

 

“No way, brah…”

 

Scooter pulled back his hood and stared at SpongeBob. He reached down and pulled SpongeBob by his hospital gown.

 

“SpongeBrah.” Scooter said. “What are all these welts around your body? Were you bit? Are these, like, starting symptoms of the virus?”

 

“Virus rhymes with cyrus…” SpongeBob said before going out fully. Scooter glared at SpongeBob before letting him fall to the ground. The younger fish with the shovel stared at Scooter.

 

“What are we gonna do with him?” Scooter sighed.

 

“Bring him into the house. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

 

-Fin Part 1

 

Part 2 tomorrow.

[Young Nug]

Season 1: Episode 2: Days Gone Dahahahahaha - Part 2

 

SpongeBob woke up to a reef blower in his face.

 

“Don’t talk, just answer my questions.”

 

SpongeBob’s eyes darted around, taking in everything. He was in Squidward’s house - his room. His bed, in fact. He could tell, due to all of the poor paintings on the wall. The room was dark, but candles were all around, softly glowing in the night. Scooter’s hood was down, and he looked tired. The reef blower’s nozzle was in his face, and Scooter’s finger was on the switch.

 

“SpongeBrah.” SpongeBob stared at Scooter. “Were you bit?”

 

“What?”

 

“Were. You. Bit.” Scooter said, enunciating each word, stressing each syllable. He pushed the nozzle into SpongeBob’s forehead.

 

“Really not a hard question, dude.” SpongeBob’s eyes found the source of these words. A younger fish in a hood was glaring at SpongeBob.

 

“...No. I got stung by a lot of jellyfish. That’s...That’s what the welts are.” Scooter glared at SpongeBob for a minute, then took a sigh of relief and rolled back on the bed.

 

“Thank Neptune, dude.” Scooter hopped off of the bed and walked out of the room. The younger fish stayed by the bed and stared at SpongeBob. SpongeBob looked back and smiled slightly.

 

“Hey. I’m SpongeBob.” He held out his hand. The kid stared at it.

 

“Lenny Jr.” He did not take SpongeBob’s hand. SpongeBob stared at Lenny.

 

“Are you named after the jellyfish?” The fish nodded. Scooter walked back in.

 

“Catch.” Scooter threw a can of algae bits to SpongeBob. It landed in one of his holes. SpongeBob smiled.

 

“Nice.” Scooter didn’t smile back.

 

“Ain’t no reason to be smiling these days, dude. You best stop.” SpongeBob’s smile dropped. “Eat those. You need sustenance.” Scooter walked to Squidward’s windows and looked through the blinds.

 

“Scooter?”

 

“Hm.”
 

“Why did you kill that fish out there?”

 

“That weren’t no fish out there, bro.” Lenny said. Scooter turned around and glared at Lenny.

 

“Weren’t?” He said incredulously. Lenny looked at Scooter with fearful eyes. “Get the surfer lingo right, or get out, Lenny.” Lenny looked at the floor shamefully. Scooter looked back at SpongeBob.

 

“But he’s not wrong. That wasn’t a fish.” SpongeBob snorted.

 

“If it wasn’t a fish, then what was it?” Scooter walked towards SpongeBob.

 

“...Do you even know what’s going on, dude?”

 

SpongeBob shook his head. Scooter laughed.

 

“Wow. We really have a lot to talk about.”

 

= = =

 

“It was just a normal day, y’know? We were all at the beach, chillin’ out, listening to the radio. There had been talks of outbreaks before, but they were in other places, far away, across the sea, man. Nowhere near us. So it was...Um.” Scooter put his head in his hands, trying to remember. They were all at the dinner table downstairs now, exchanging stories. Scooter snapped his fingers.

 

“Alright. So, it was me, Larry, his sister, a rockin’ beach babe, and Lenny. He had lost his parents.” Lenny stared at the table. “We were all on the beach, helping him look for them, when this fat lady started screaming. We all turned and saw what she was screaming at - this undead fish rising from the goo, and it bit this dude, literally took a chunk of meat out of this fish’s fin with it’s teeth. The dude fell on the sand, and people freaked out. Families were trampling people, everyone trying to get off the beach. It was cray, brah. What’s crazy about these undead fish things is that when they bite, they turn other fish into what they are. It’s like a zombie movie come to life. Me, Larry, Lenny, Larry’s sister, and the beach babe, we all called the police. They came, but they didn’t know what was going on. The Swimmers - that’s what I like to call ‘em - took them down in a matter of minutes. Me and our group were holed up in a beach house for a week, just hidin’ out, waiting for them to go.

 

They didn’t go. And eventually, we knew were gonna have to go out there and fight, or we were gonna die. We came out fighting, but when Larry knocked one of their heads off, we figured it out.” Scooter tapped the side of his head. “It’s the brain, SpongeBrah. It’s gotta be. That’s where they get all their power. Get em in the brain, they die again. Anywhere else, they’ll keep coming until they get you and eat you.”

 

“So...That thing out there was a swimmer?” SpongeBob asked. Scooter nodded.

 

“Yup. I had to burn off it’s head with this industrial grade reef blower,” Scooter said, pointing to it in a corner. “It’s got a heat setting that literally burns their heads into mush. It works, man.” SpongeBob nodded in awe and sipped from his cup of Kelp Juice.

 

“So how’d you get here? And where’s Larry? And everyone else?” Scooter sighed and twirled his food on the end of his fork.

 

“After we got off of the beach, we wanted to stay in a small place. Not huge, not noticeable. We ran through the neighborhoods on Conch Street. We thought we’d find you, or Patrick, or Squidward here, but the houses were all mad empty when we got here. We decided to crash in the Squidbrah’s house.”

 

“...And Larry?” Scooter looked down.

 

“Larry and his sister left. They wanted answers. They want to know how this happened, why this happened, and how to stop it.”
 

“That’s reasonable.” Scooter looked up at SpongeBob and scowled.

 

“Is it really worth dying for to find answers that might not even be out there, SpongeBob? That really make sense to you? To put this kid’s life in danger for that?” Lenny was fiddling with his thumbs. “They left me and her and him to go find answers.” Scooter turned away from the table.

 

“They aren’t gonna find anything, I tell you what.” SpongeBob looked around the living room and noticed that there were sheets over all the windows.

 

“What’s all the covering for?”

 

“Light attracts em’. Light and sound. If we let them see these candles, they’ll flock in, like a moth to a light kinda thing.”

 

“Are they anywhere near us?” Scooter began walking upstairs and beckoned for SpongeBob to follow him. They entered Squidward’s bedroom again, and Scooter opened the blinds. Outside, wandering the sands, were a good handful of swimmers. They ambled aimlessly around, grunting and growling in the night. It was hard not to be mesmerized. Suddenly, Scooter’s finger entered the picture. He pointed at a lady swimmer, shuffling around the perimeter of Squidward’s yard.

 

“That’s her.” He said somberly.
 

“Who?”

 

“The best beach babe of all time. Hot, compassionate, deep. Jill. She was with us until she got bit. Then she became one of them.” Scooter stared out the window for a while. Then he shut the blinds.

 

“It’s so…” He hesitated. “It’s so hard, clearing this place of all of them… With her around. You don’t know what it’s like until you’ve seen them, man. You’ll be out with your friends, think it’s a great day… And then, they get bit. It’s like nothing I’ve ever encountered before, dude. First, they get this fever. It knocks em’ out. It burns em’ up, they get sick, throw up… It burns you out. You die.” SpongeBob took a seat on the bed and looked at Scooter, who was bent over, staring into Squidward’s dresser mirror.

 

“But then they come back. But they’re not the same. They’re dead, they can just walk around. And they’re hungry. Just base urges. You know. I had to put her out. And I’ve tried to just shoot her but… I know it’s not her anymore. But I just can’t. That’s why Lenny matters so much. He’s all I’ve got now. It hurts, but I know that one day, I’m gonna have to do what I have to do.”

SpongeBob walked over and put his hand on Scooter’s shoulder.

 

“It’s okay, Scooter.” Scooter smiled.

 

“I wish I could believe that.” Something was different about Squidward’s dresser, SpongeBob noticed. Then, he realized. It was empty.

 

“Scooter!” Scooter turned to SpongeBob.

 

“What, brah?”

 

“Squidward’s copious pictures of himself! They’re all gone!”

 

“So?” SpongeBob grabbed Scooter by the cloth of his hoodie.

 

“That means he’s out there. They all might be.”

 

= = =

 

“Brah, SpongeBob! Shoot it!” SpongeBob ran up to the swimmer, held the nozzle to it’s head at point blank range, and flipped the nozzle. Pure heat flowed out, and the swimmer’s head and very skull started melting away.

 

“Behind you!” Lenny yelled. SpongeBob pulled the machete out of his holster and swiped at the swimmer approaching from behind and slammed the blade into the side of it’s temple. The undead fish snapped at him once, and then SpongeBob yanked the bamboo machete from the swimmer’s head and it collapsed to the ground. SpongeBob looked at Scooter and Lenny and smiled breathlessly.

 

“I think you’re ready to get out there, SpongeBrah. You’ve become a swimmer killing machine these past few days. You’ve got it down.” SpongeBob smiled and wiped his forehead.

 

“I mean, I still feel weird about all of this. It’s like the world is just gone.” SpongeBob reflected on that for a moment, staring into the morning sea. A scallop chirped and the sun was out. SpongeBob smiled. That was all he could ask for.

 

“So, where do you think Squidward is gonna be?” Lenny asked.

 

“I’d bet Central Bikini Bottom.” Scooter said. “I heard on the radios before they went down that there were reinforcements there. If your buddy went anywhere, it’d be there. We’re thinking about heading there soon.” SpongeBob turned from Scooter and looked at Squidward’s vacant house. He then turned and saw the Krusty Krab in the distance, looking as decrepit and destroyed as ever. He squinted.

 

“Scooter, Lenny, come with me. I’ve got something to show you.”

 

= = =

 

The locker clicked open. Inside of the locker was a large duffel bag with a colorful jellyfish painted on the outside.

 

“What’s in there?”

 

They were all in the Krusty Krab’s kitchen. It was dusty and abandoned now, but many things still remained. The grill, the bag of buns SpongeBob had forgotten to move. The fryers.

 

The memories.

 

The bag, most important of all. The jellyfish duffel bag had so many important things. His spatula, jellyfish nets, walkie-talkies, gloves, tissues, jars of jelly, a half eaten sandwich, a manual on how to eat - anything SpongeBob would ever need in the case of Patrick running in with a stupid problem. SpongeBob handed a walkie-talkie to Scooter. He laughed.

 

“I want to map out our plan a little bit, but your getup is really cracking me up, dude.” And it should have. SpongeBob was in a Sherrif’s uniform.

 

“Why, brah? You’ve even got the hat to match! It’s even got the little Krusty Krab anchor logo thing on it.” Scooter said, pointing. SpongeBob reddened.

 

“It’s for….When Patrick and I would play cowboys and robbers.” Both Lenny and Scooter shook their heads in shame. After a while, Scooter looked at the walkie-talkie and back at SpongeBob.

 

“So, you’re really set on doing this, huh?” SpongeBob nodded curtly.

 

“If there’s a chance of any of them being alive, I’ve gotta make sure. You sure you don’t want to come along?” SpongeBob asked, a note of hope in his voice.

 

“No. I can’t. Not yet. I’ve got things I’ve got to take care of here, first.” SpongeBob held up his walkie-talkie.

 

“Alright then, Scooter. Every day, at dawn, we turn on our walkie-talkies. We’ll meet up in Bikini Bottom. Alright?” Scooter smiled and nodded.

 

“You know it, SpongeBrah.” The two clapped each other’s hands.

 

“How you gettin’ there?”

 

SpongeBob took the two around the building, to the back, where a seahorse was docked in a stable.

 

“I can’t believe he’s still here…” SpongeBob stared at the lime seahorse incredulously. It looked as if it hadn’t eaten in weeks.

 

“...This guy was in case we ever delivered pizzas again. This way we wouldn’t have to ride rocks.” Scooter looked confused, and SpongeBob patted him on the back.

 

“Sorry. Only Squidward would get that one.” SpongeBob mounted the horse and looked at Scooter.

 

“Alright, Scooter. See you later, uh, brah.” Scooter saluted loosely with the nozzle of his reef blower.

 

“Later days, SpongeMan.” SpongeBob gripped the reins of the horse, whipped, and suddenly, he was off, as the seahorse swam down the road to Bikini Bottom. SpongeBob didn’t know what awaited him in Bikini Bottom, but in his heart, there was hope. Maybe it wasn’t all over.

 

= = =

 

Scooter was sitting on the roof of Squidward’s house in a beach chair with tears in his eyes. It was late afternoon, and he had on his hat.

 

“Scooter, are you okay?” Lenny called from inside the house.

 

“Yeah, I’m good,” Scooter called, “Stay down there, Lenny!” Scooter took a deep breath, and then sighed. “Alright. Let’s try this one more time.” Scooter picked up his bow and arrow and glared down at the sandy remains of Conch Street. He squinted, and he found his target, pulled back the bow, and held, staring directly at his target.

 

Jill.

 

“It hurts, but I know that one day, I’m gonna have to do what I have to do.” Scooter’s words echoed in his head. He held the bow tighter, drew back further. He gnashed his teeth, tried to mentally prepare himself. To forget the wonderful times he had shared, the times of survival. To forget love and humanity.

 

But in the end, he ended up screaming and throwing his bow on the floor and crashing to his knees, yelling and crying the whole way.

 

He always did.

 

= = =

 

SpongeBob cursed himself as he dashed down a sidewalk in Downtown Bikini Bottom, spatula in hand, duffel bag on his back, swimmers following close behind. As he ran down the street, he struggled to recall how his day became so bad. A day-ride into Bikini Bottom seemed so easy. He had even managed to find some supplies in an old abandoned house - although he was deeply disturbed by the mural inside, with the words “Neptune forgive us” scrawled on the wall in blood.

 

Now, he was in a dangerous place, dashing around a crowded and dirty city with a lot of weight. SpongeBob took a quick glance back at the huge gap between the herd of swimmers running after him, and the herd that was still back eating his seahorse. He swore, and continued running. Passing that life buoy sign, and coming onto Main Street, SpongeBob’s hope drained out when he arrived to a city with dirty buildings, trash on the streets, and dead bodies strewn everywhere. Oh, and swimmers. Hordes and hordes of swimmers. Swimmers that knocked him off of his horse and began eating it in a crazed frenzy of hunger and desperation.

 

A shame, too. SpongeBob was going to name it Debbie.

 

SpongeBob rounded a corner, but skidded to a halt. Swimmers were eating something, their fins stained with blood and coated in pink organ bits. The undead fish turned towards SpongeBob and all began shuffling towards him. SpongeBob whipped around and scanned his surroundings. He was on the left side of a main square of sorts. In front of him was blocked by swimmers.

 

However, in front and to the right, was an alleyway, fenced in. SpongeBob stared at it, debating whether to make a break for it diagonally, or just to climb this tank in the middle of the square and scope the rest of the area. A swimmer lunged at SpongeBob, and in an instant, his choice was made.

 

Tank.

 

SpongeBob dashed for it as the herds converged into one and chased after him. SpongeBob leaped the sidewalk, and climbed the wheel. He felt a hand grab the duffel bag on his back. Shit, were they fast. The group all gripped onto his pack, and SpongeBob shook and jerked, and the strap ripped. In his frenzy to escape, his hat also fell off. SpongeBob was only armed with a spatula. He quickly scrambled to the top and took a look at the square he was in. Swimmers were pouring in at every side, although the north side, with the alley way, was all clear. SpongeBob stared at the fence, and he could almost swear he saw something move. He didn’t have much time to think, however, as the bumbling of a Watercopter from high, high above distracted him. He tried to wave his arms as the bright blue copter passed over the city. It was futile, and SpongeBob knew that, but it couldn’t have hurt to try, he thought, as he stared the copter down. It passed the sun.

 

Rip.
 

SpongeBob gasped as he looked down and saw that swimmers had gotten up the tank, and were gnawing at his pant leg. He yelled, and pulled at the tank’s opening hatch. A hissing sound emitted, and SpongeBob leaped in the tank hole as the swimmers banged on the tank from all around. SpongeBob could still hear their growls from inside the industrial, claustrophobic tank. He sank down, and looked next to him. A dead lobster. It had on an army uniform. Maybe it was trying to prevent this from happening. Maybe he was sent in during the midst of it? Or perhaps he was just a man in an army uniform who got caught up in Bikini Bottom and trapped in this tank, just like SpongeBob did. SpongeBob sighed, looked up at the escape hatch, where he could still hear swimmers banging. He smiled and a few tears streamed out of his eyes. What a way to go, huh? He wiped his eyes and sniffed. He was wondering how he was going to starve in the tank, or otherwise, when suddenly-

 

“Hey.”

 

SpongeBob looked at the lobster. Nope. Still dead. It couldn’t have talked. He looked around.

 

“Hey. You.”

 

SpongeBob saw the radio and grabbed it, and stared at it for a moment. He knew that nasally voice. He knew he did.

 

“Yeah, you. Kelp-for-brains. Down there in the tank. Cozy in there?”

 

SpongeBob grinned.

 

-Fin