1 Set 1

I check my watch for the third time in five minutes. I glance over at Sadie, who is

muttering to herself quietly, checking the cracked clock on the wall across from her. I check my

watch again and say what's been bothering me.

"When did he say he'd be back? I thought he said he'd be here-" A pounding on the door

cuts me off. Sadie jumps up and turns around three times before running to the door, peeking

through the bullet hole to see outside. The pounding comes again and she turns despairingly

back to me.

"It's not him, just another zombie. It should go away soon," My eyes catch the fact that

she wipes a tear and sniffles. "I miss him already."

I watch as she sits back down, pulling her knees to her chest, desolately drawing a

bunch of stars in the dust with her finger. I turn away, not bearing to see the look on her face, as

I break down on the inside. Sighing, I finally let my mind wander, knowing that Danny probably

won't be coming back tonight, if he comes back at all. Sinking into the deep recesses of my

clogged young mind, the world around me falls away and I remember back to when everything

was better, back before the world started to end.

Just two months ago, I was a near-normal teenage girl living in Grand Rapids, Michigan.

If you looked past the scars and the frown on my face, I might actually be pretty, but that was

just what my mother said behind my back. My head was shaved on the sides, leaving a wide

mohawk of long hair to hide my face at all times. My clothes were two sizes too big, a mix of

boy's and girl's clothes from ten to fifteen years ago, when my oldest siblings were teenagers. I

was a loner, one of those depressed and antisocial losers who just stays inside and doesn't

leave the comfort of her room by choice. My family just accepted me as disconnected from

reality, knowing that I barely went downstairs to eat dinner, eating very little of the food on my

plate, not participating in the conversations flying around my head. Most nights when I was

spoken to I would stuff my mouth full of food and slowly chew so as to avoid talking to the

people around my family's table, as well as have a never-ending staring contest with my plate. I

remember the nights I would skip dinner entirely, not feeling up to facing the strangers living in

my house, the ones that call themselves family, although I've never been close to any of them.

My family were the only ones who ignored my shortcomings while everyone else harped and

stabbed at me. Everyone at school stared daggers at my back and took turns shoving me into

my locker. Who was lower than the nerds and dweebs? I was. I sat in the back of class, not

paying attention, not caring about the grades I got, not caring if I failed them all. Becoming a

silent shadow in the classrooms. And that's the way I liked it. No one knew that I cried myself to

sleep every night, no one knew that I could sing well and do archery, and no one knew that I

had my eyes on this cute little cyber boy I'd met years ago. He had never even stepped foot in a

school, yet he taught himself how to read, write, spell, and do college level math with the help of

YouTube.

I smile as I peer into each memory as if flipping through a photo album. After a while,

Sadie's voice started to pierce through the haze of my memories. Blinking a few times to get rid

of the past, I look over at her. She's staring at me, almost through me, and speaking in

monotone. Why did I agree to stay? She creeps me out more than the zombies outside.

"Hey, did you hear me?" Sadie stands up and takes a step towards me, and I

instinctively take a step back.

"No, I'm sorry, I-I didn't hear you..." I stutter, fearing her possible violence. She tips her

head and focuses on me.

"Kaitlyn, you look like you've seen a ghost. All I said is that I can hear Danny coming,"

Her voice has it's regular twang to it. I shake my head slightly, and continue to look at her

confused.

"You," I pause as I think about what she said, "hear him coming?" It was her turn to look

confused.

"Yeah, is there a problem with that?" The sound of an automatic rifle going off stops me

from answering as Sadie turns around three times, again, and runs to the door, flipping the

three bolt locks and lifting the two barricades. She backs up just in time for Danny to burst in,

slamming the door behind him. Sadie's startled expression mixed with Danny's wild and

exhausted expression makes me smile, slightly. The last three people on Earth are finally safe

and accounted for. I only enjoy the smile for a second before taking in his dirty and

blood-splattered clothes, seeing the unidentifiable stains I'll secretly scrub off tonight while

everyone else is sleeping. Danny and I's eyes lock for an instant, a shiver crawling down my

back. The look in his eyes momentarily fills me with fear, before the eye contact is broken as

Sadie pushes him off the door and locks it again. She then turns to Danny and gives him a

bearhug.

"Oh, I'm so glad you are back. I thought you were dead, I thought we'd find your

mutilated, bleeding corpse lying in the road or..." Her voice trails off and she lets go of him. She

looks at his face, then at his eyes, then walks around him in a circle, following her nose. She lifts

the left side of his shirt and he dances sideways away from her. Pulling down his shirt, Danny,

hurriedly runs his fingers down it, as if to smooth it all out.

"Chill, Sadie, I'm fine. I just made a stop, but I'm back now," Danny says, setting his right

hand on his left side, not meeting either of our eyes. Sadie gives him one last sad look before

cantering away to the kitchen. Danny watches her leave, smiling slightly, until he remembers

that I'm standing right there. He glances meekly back up at me, searching my eyes for

disappointment. "Sorry."

"For what?" My question is only answered by him sweeping his arm towards the kitchen

where Sadie had disappeared. I smile and do the same, only gesturing towards his bed. Sitting

down, I lean into him and he wraps his arm around me, "I'm not disappointed in you for watching

her. I was just worried that you weren't coming back." His arm slightly tightens around me at the

miniscule variation in my voice. Silence persists, the tension of an unasked question laying thick

and almost tangible on us. His voice breaks the awkward silence like glass, the imaginary

shards hitting the ground with an almost perceivable shatter.

"Does she know?" He looks down at me as he asks.

"No." My voice is back to a monotone, an emotionless drone that has been used more in

the past month than it has in my entire 17 years previous.

"Kaitlyn, that's why you stayed and I went." His voice is pleading and I look up at his

eyes.

"I know, but," I pause, lowering my voice, "she's creepy. Have you hung out with her?

She's mental," His eyes narrow slightly and I sigh, "Fine, I'll go tell her," I push his arm away and

stand up. I stroll to the kitchen, scared of her reaction when I tell her about Danny and I. I walk

into the blandest smell of dinner cooking. My stomach growls and Sadie looks up from the

noodles she was rolling out.

"Hey, Kaitlyn, wanna help?" I hear her but don't respond, as I was already seeking out

possible weapons and escapes. Sadie waits until I focus on her again before she repeats

herself.

"Um, actually, I have to tell you something," She looks at me with a blank look and I look

away, knowing that if I look in her eyes, she will read my mind. I take a deep breath and look at

her, "Danny and I are dating," Her lips curl into a slight smile and she gazes at me with an

unreadable emotion, pride maybe, "What?" I say, feeling uncomfortable.

"I knew that." The confused look on my face must have filled her with joy because she

then jumps up, her eyes wild with excitement, "I see how you guys look at each other, the whole

starry eyed stare. I see you guys holding hands at night, and I saw the kiss before he left." I feel

my face contort into one of shock and embarrassment as Danny walks in.

"Hey, what's for dinner?" he asks, looking at me for confirmation that I told her. Sadie

gives me a slightly smug look when his back is turned before she speaks.

"Noodles. I'll try to add something else if I can find anything," she says happily,

continuing to roll out the noodles.

"Yum." The semi-sarcastic reply comes from Danny and I roll my eyes. He keeps his

eyes locked on mine, hoping I'll show a sign that I told her. I keep my eyes down, not making

eye contact. Seconds pass between us, those few long seconds stretching into what feels like

hours. I count the seconds without thinking, something I used to do with my mother. Mom only

lasted about ten seconds before she walked away. Up to eight seconds. Now twelve. I feel his

eyes searching me, looking for an answer to his unasked, but also unmistakable question. I

glance up at him, nod slightly, and then look at Sadie. I watch as she pretends not to notice the

stretched, silent moment. Danny turns towards her, slinging his arm over my shoulder.

"Aren't you excited? We're planning a wedding!" Danny says jokingly and receives the

same reaction from both of us.

"A wedding?" Our voices shrill, ghastly horror written on our faces. I step away from him

and closer to Sadie, hoping she'll give me a slight bit of comfort in this, but my mistake was

turning my back to her.

She kicks the back of my knee, making me fall forward and collapse, the next kick

landing between my shoulder blades. My hands hit the floor and slide forward, my head

smashing into the ground. My vision blurs as I get forced onto my back. Sadie is straddling me

now, punching me in the face, blow after blow. A force in her that I didn't even know she had, I

mean, she was a small farm girl, who would have thought? I pull my hands up to protect myself,

but she quickly tucks each wrist under each of her knees. I struggle against her, bringing my

knees up and kneeing her in the back as her rage increases. I don't know when she starts to

yell, but it pierces through my racing heartbeat that thrums in my ears.

"I hate you! You stole him from me! Danny is mine, mine I tell you!" I watch as she holds

my throat down and turns around behind her. The rolling pin appears in her hand and she raises

it above her head, ready to pound my skull to bits. I squeeze my eyes shut, my life flashing

before my eyes. My memories, strangely, replay backwards, the most recent popping up first.

Finally, the very first thing I can remember from my childhood appears, I can remember it

perfectly.

It's a sweet-smelling summer day, the flowers in full bloom, the green grass

nice and soft like a blanket. I recall being three years old and watching my oldest

brother climb a tree, the leaves perfectly green, like a picture. This really was a

picture perfect memory. He's thirteen at this time, shirtless and tan, like all the

other boys out in the country. We are at my grandparents' farm down in Ohio, far

enough away from the dank city to live in peace and quiet, but close enough to

town that every now and then a chicken would wander across the road and not

come back from being run over by a 3,000 pound chicken-death machine. Why

would the chicken cross the road? The world may never know. I watch as my

brother climbs higher, the branches of the tree getting thinner, less able to hold

his weight.

"Tanner! Get down from there before you fall and kill yourself!" My

grandmother was normally sweet, but when stupidity was involved, her voice

changes into a voracious yell of anger.

"Okay, okay! I'm coming down," Tanner shouts back, slowly making his way

down. He's finally about 10 feet off the ground and what happens next was very

fast and unexpected. He grabs a branch that has a thorn on it, stabbing the palm

of his left hand. He pulls his hand back quickly, stumbling backwards slightly, but

regaining his balance on the branch by putting his hand out to the trunk of the

tree and leaning into it for stability. Right there the tree had been hollowed out by

a nest of wasps, the bark that covered the gaping hole was very thin and

breakable. I remember the look of absolute terror as his hand goes into the

wasps' nest and is pulled back out, his arm covered with stinging and biting

creatures. He takes a step back, but there was no branch behind him, his foot

expecting something to stand on, but only air greets it. He loses his balance and

tumbles to the ground, a cloud of the angry creatures following him. He lands on

top of me, taking me to the ground with him, graciously sharing the bees. I let out

an ear-splitting scream as the pain hit me. Pain like I've never felt before, only

being three. I feel it everywhere, even where the bees weren't. My stomach and ribs

feel like they have been run over by a bus, while the strings are blazing fire on my

skin. Seeing the whole thing, my grandmother had gotten the hose. She's

drenching us, adding drowning to my list of things that had a high chance of

killing me that day. My grandfather heard her yell about the bees and he had

grabbed his smoker. He's running our way, firing up it up and smoking out the

bees. In a few minutes, the bees are asleep, and so is my brother on me. My

grandfather scoops my brother up, and my grandmother does the same to me.

I've never seen them run, but they did. They run to the car, and speed to the

hospital, one kid on each lap. Getting rushed to individual rooms, I glimpsed my

brother's red and swollen body. I remember falling asleep to the pain and the

voices around the room. Three of my ribs were broken from the impact of

breaking his fall, I'd gotten a concussion, had fluid in my lungs, breathed in

smoke, had hundreds of wasp bites and stings, and shattered my appendix. I was

lucky to be alive. Unfortunately, Tanner wasn't lucky. I remembered everyone

being so distraught about Tanner that I was pushed aside. I remember angry

faces from his friends, them saying it was my fault.

A gunshot sounds, and my mind shoots back to the present. I'm staring up at Sadie's

livid face, red from anger, tears welling up in her eyes. The shattered rolling pin still raised

above her head as the splinters rain over me and the floor beside me. Her head snaps to

Danny. I slowly turn my bloody face to see him. He is holding his 9mm pistol out, complete with

homemade silencer, staring daggers through Sadie.

"Get off of her, Sadie." His voice is a low growl. I've only heard it like that once before. I

resist the flashback, too scared that I'd miss the chance to tell him that I love him one last time.

Sadie doesn't make a move to get off of me and I take a deep breath.

"I love you, Danny. H-have since the day I met you..." My voice is slightly garbled by the

blood in my mouth. His steelhard gaze sweeps over me and it softens slightly.

"Don't say that like it's a last goodbye," He looks back up at Sadie. I spit the blood out of

my mouth and turn my head to gaze up at the ceiling; the loss of blood making the pain feel less

real, like a dream. I close my eyes, ready for it to end. Who knew she could hit that hard? I

finally let the flashback come, the memory that started like a nightmare, but had a pleasant

ending as if my nightmare turned into a daydream.

I was walking down the side of the road, my soles softly scraping the

pavement. I quickly step off the road, checking the number on the mailbox, then

stepping back on the gray and potholed street. The yellow lines are deeply faded

and the occasional blood stain is a big contrast, most being dark and old,

waiting for the upcoming rain to wash it away. Right street, wrong number, but I

am getting closer. I peer through the fog at the big red blob in the distance. I

walk at a slightly quicker pace, heading towards structure, which I can now see is

a barn. I hear a noise behind me and I freeze, turning around, bringing the

hunting rifle up and looking for the noise. Nothing for a second, then the noise

again, a slight breeze sweeping towards me. I watch as an empty bottle rolls

towards me, my gun still up, expecting an ambush. After the bottle rolls in the

ditch, silence prevails, the winds temporarily stopping. I wait a few seconds longer

before turning around and going on my way again. As I get closer, I can see the

house as well, a shiver going through me. The cool breeze picks up again and

settles over me as I start to adore the large expanse of property. There were

acres upon acres of mostly empty fields, a small group of an assortment of

animals still sleeping in the late spring grass. I stop at the edge of the driveway,

checking the mailbox number, knowing that this is the last place he would be if he

was still alive. I look up at the huge barn to my left and the large two-story house

to my right, something in my mind telling me to keep walking and don't look back,

but my heart pulls me into the driveway. I look at the small circle driveway in front

of me and step into the grassy yard in between the lanes. The grass is thick and

plush, not too long, but it still could use a trim. My claustrophobia kicks in as the

close proximity of the buildings starts to press in on me. The fog gets thicker. I'm

only able to see half of the fenced in yard, the animals starting to stir agitatedly.

The fog around me weighs me down, terrifying me, ripping apart the fact the I'm

free and in the open. I take a deep breath and turn towards the house, searching

it for any movement, any sign of life. I instantly regret that decision. My eyes take

in the broken and bloodied glass from multiple windows, the handful of bullet

holes in the open and lopsided door which slowly creaks in the breeze, hanging

by a single hinge. Fear pulls at my heart, screaming at my brain to force me to

run away, but I stand there, unable to move by what I see, captivated by the

destruction of a once beautiful family home. The light from the hall is still on,

visible through the dining room window, which had its own horror scene in it. The

silhouette of the crystal chandelier is easily seen laying on the table, the many

chairs that used to sit around it now thrown sporadically around the room as if

they left in a rush, the one lonely highchair at the end of the table, still holding a

silent and lifeless lump of 10 months slouched over the feeding tray. A single tear

drips down my face. I've never been a family person, but it's sad to know that

someone's peaceful family was ripped apart by this. I squeeze my eyes shut

knowing it's mostly my fault, I'm the one who did this, and there's no way I can fix

it. I look away from the house, not caring to look at it or go inside to explore.

Instead, I turn my attention to the barn. It is a huge barn, bigger than the house,

the faded red fitting perfectly with the ominous fog. I examine it, not seeing

damage like what was on the house. My eyes catch a tiny movement in the small

loft window, stories above my head. My eyes shoot towards it, my gun raised,

ready to kill. Minutes crawl by and nothing appears in the window. Must have

been an owl or chicken or something. I look away to continue to examine the

barn. My mind was quiet for a second before it made me second guess myself. I

didn't move my head, but used my eyes to look at the window. Someone is aiming

a rifle at me, I can see the muzzle, but not the hands that wield it. I turn my head

for a better look and it disappears again. I rack my brain for what to do; how do I

let them know that I'm human without alerting any zombies around? I wave, my

entire arm in motion. No response from the window. W

hat would Danny do? What

would Danny do? I mouth the words slightly, and the answer comes out in a

whisper.

"Honestly, he would do the chicken dance," The sound of how weird my

words sounded lets a slight laugh escaping my throat, cut off by my hand as I

clamp it over my mouth. I take a deep breath to calm down then I turn towards

the window, my eyes riveted on where the movement was. I hold my hands up to

chest level and do the very first move of the chicken dance. My face turns red as I

feel like an idiot because I did it way too long. Next to the flapping of my bent

elbows. I continue to do the dance, first, very rigidly. Then, little by little, I relax, my

movement more fluid than before. The video chats of Danny and I doing the

chicken dance flood me with relief and a warm sense of calm. I continued to

dance for five minutes until I was fully exhausted and looked up at the window. I

see a face peeking slightly from the shadows. My heart leaps. D

anny! My mind

stops to think. Could be anybody. My fight or flight system permanently stuck in

run away. G

ood, someone who has a gun is watching you. Perfect idea right now,

run away! I watch the face, too far to make out the details. H

ow do I let him know

that it's me? Oh, wait, we have a secret handshake, only he and I know about that.

I make a heart with both hands then make a "y" in sign language with one hand,

pointing at the face with the other. A little movement as the face leans out the

window for a better look. I notice the shaggy and greasy hair and the deep frown.

Think, think. Then, something pops into my head. I could have easily told him who

I was with one easy action. I turn around, pulling the sharpie marker I found on

the side of the road from my back pocket. I lift my shirt and start to write on my

stomach. I turn around with my shirt raised to where the bottom of my bra is

showing. The scars on my stomach are visible through the scribbled words of "I

am not infected" and "Danny, it's me". I watch the frown turn into confusion, then

excitement. Then, he turns around and disappears into the darkness.

Disappointment in my heart, I put my shirt down and take a few steps back, ready

to move on. Then, I see the face again as he puts the end of a knotted rope

through the window. He slowly lowers it down, foot after foot for me to grab on to.

Slowly, I start to walk towards the rope. When the end of the rope is about 3 feet

off the ground, it stops. I tug on it to make sure it's sturdy, to which I get a thumbs

up from the boy, who I've known for years, seems how the boy staring down at me

from the loft window was the one and only Danny Denzle. I grab ahold of the rope,

ready to climb up when a rumbling noise hits my ears. Still looking up at Danny, I

notice that he hears the disturbance too. It takes me a second to realize that it's

the sound of a car. Being a city girl all the way, I had gotten used to the sound of

cars, but this noise after the weeks of silence is strange and terrifying. Danny

tugs on the rope in my hands, snapping me out of my fear. I start to climb,

hearing the car get closer and closer, a different noise in the background. It

sounds like an angry mob at a concert, but with deeper, guttural undertones. I

am halfways up when the care speeds part in a blur of lights and noise, someone

yelling out the window in an unintelligible hurrah. Then, the zombies came. The

biggest horde I've ever seen is on the car's tail, only about twenty feet behind.

Some are falling back a little, but they are keeping up for the most part. Then the

wind blew, a hard wind that made my grip slip on the rope. One of the zombies in

the back of the group stopped and looked my way, sniffing the air. Another joins

him and a long "yip" comes from my mouth, making three more turn towards me.

The five zombies started to lumber to me, their rotting flesh hanging off of their

bones, their eyes dark and inhuman, the way they walked as if their brain was no

longer telling them what to do, instead it is the second nature, automatic feeling

of walking practised and perfected over many years that keeps them moving.

"Kaitlyn, get up here." Danny's urgent whisper-shout gets my hands moving

without my mind telling them what to do, instead, my mind takes a mental note of

myself acting like nothing more than one of them, trying to survive, not using my

brain, I am just like a zombie. Fitting, since I c

aused it. I try to push those thoughts

away, knowing the truth behind them, but not wanting to take blame yet, not

ready to hold myself accountable. I scramble up the rope, Danny's arms reaching

out for me, pulling me in the window. He pulls the rope up as I fall into him,

knocking both of us over. I land on top of him, my head slamming into his chest.

With a few jerks of the rope, the end comes flying through the window and hits me

in the back. I grunt slightly in pain, more focused on listening to his heartbeat. He

grips me under my armpits and slides me up higher, my face in his and he

presses his lips to mine. I close my eyes and kiss him back, wanting to know what

his kiss felt like since he told me that he loved me. His hands slide down to my

shoulder blades, hugging me and holding me in place. The long, slow kiss

stretches until the zombies stop hitting the walls of the barn and wander away.

Finally, he pulls his lips from mine and I open my eyes. I watch as his eyes slowly

open and he smiles, his teeth dazzling white, despite the facts of the apocalypse

and that he's been living in a barn for the past 3 weeks.

"That was amazing," I say breathlessly.

"Yeah?" He laughs, a laugh from a moviestar.

"Yeah," I stare into his deep forest green eyes, seeing the love and pain in

them. I stare for a few minutes before realizing that I'm still laying on him. I roll off

of and stand up, reaching down to help him off the ground, "So, um," I let that

hang in the air.

"How was your commute?" I roll my eyes at his question.

"Long, and tiring,"

The pain floods back to me in a rush, making my body seize up. I take a few deep

breaths to relax myself and open my eyes as much as I could, just enough for me to focus, but

not enough for me to really be able to see. I stare up at the ceiling, it looks different, strange

even, not my normal ceiling I stare up at during the night. My head hurts like crazy, my nose

throbbing, both my eyes almost swollen shut, my throat and knees most definitely bruised. I try

to open my mouth, but my jaw won't allow it; a grunt is all that comes out. Danny slowly comes

into view. He shines a light into my eyes to check my pupil dilation and breathes a sigh of relief.

"I'm so glad you're awake. I thought I lost you to a coma." His face is blank, but I can

read the worry and relief behind his eyes. I go to open my mouth again, but he puts his hand

over it. "Stop, you'll only hurt yourself more. You took quite a beating from her." I glare at him,

trying to open my mouth. "It's wired shut for the time being so your jaw will realign." I huff and

start to express my thoughts in sign-language. A silent language that we both know due to the

help of YouTube.

You didn't stop her from hurting me.

"I prefer for people to fight their own battles. You know I only intervene when life is at

stake."

I could've died. You know that I won't fight back. I don't even carry a gun anymore

unless we are going outside.

"I know, but Kaitlyn, you need to learn how to stand up for yourself. You can't be scared

of everything, that isn't going to fly in this world now, you know that,"

I know that, but trying to relearn how to live after seventeen years is hard.

"Life is hard, sweetheart, but honestly, I wouldn't have this life with anyone else,"

I know. I'm tired. I'm not really tired, but I didn't want to talk about this anymore. I close

my eyes and he kisses the top of my head.

"Goodnight, dear. I'll get you some breakfast in the morning. It's about eleven, right now,

but in the morning, you'll want something in your stomach," I hear his footsteps recede, then

hear a door open and shut. I take a few deep breaths and try to relax, my mind wide awake, the

memories flooding my vision even with my eyes closed. The moments that flashed before my

eyes earlier where the ones being explored now, slowly, calmly, and quietly. My breathing slows

and somewhere in the middle of my memories, I fall asleep.

The dream comes to me in a rush, hitting me full force, snapping me out of any peaceful

thought that I could've been having. I can't stand the thought of it, yet my mind examines every

single miniscule detail, repeatedly, endlessly. The dream was beyond realistic. If I hadn't woken

up from it, I'd have thought that it was real. If I close my eyes, if I try to fall back asleep, I'll see it

again. As I stare up at the ceiling in the darkness, catching my breath and relaxing, fatigue sets

in on me and I close my eyes.

I slowly climb the stairs, ignoring my mother's shouts to my siblings to leave

the kitchen knives alone. I pass the pictures hanging on the walls, not even

looking at them anymore. I already know what I'm going to see. I've lived in this

house for 14 years, sharing it with 13 siblings, 6 younger and 7 older. The pictures

haven't changed much, only a family growing bigger with more kids than my

parents can handle, but yet, they keep having them. The growing family shrinks

the love available for each child. Being a child stuck somewhere in between the

youngest and oldest, I never really received the much needed attention that most

children crave, instead I was pushed to the backburner, as I had learned to take

care of and fend for myself. I learned to live without it, once I did, my life became

much easier around the house. So, I decided to leave that childish and personal

want in the past, focusing more on avoiding the people I could, dealing with the

ones I couldn't. There once was a time that those pictures meant everything to

me, but I have since decided that true memories are kept inside the head and are

hardly ever caught on camera. The memories that matter are the only ones I look

though, the only ones I remember. Most of the pictures are almost the same, just

with another kid as the others get older, taller, closer to death. Every dreaded day

when all the kids were in one place at the same time, all 14 of us, plus 2 parents.

The ones I'm not in are my favorite because my brother was still alive and well in

them, but those pictures have since been covered and hidden by newer ones with

the larger family, making the thought of Tanner a thing of the past, one of those

things that no one wants to talk about so they don't. I watched my mother's smile

progress from photograph to photograph turn from a genuine smile to a forced

one as the stress of more and more kids weighs heavier on her. I trudge to my

room, ready to talk to Danny, knowing that he'll be online in three minutes, giving

me enough time to fire up my computer and change into my pajamas before

settling in for the night and texting Danny until he goes to bed. I open my door,

expecting an empty room like every day at this time, but instead find my little

sister sitting on my bed, her back to me, my laptop in her lap.

"What are you doing with my laptop? Come on, you got your own, get off of

mine," My voice feels like a shout, but the sound that escapes my throat is nothing

more than a whisper. I feel my body go rigid, freezing up and unable to move. My

eyes slide over the slightly tangled weave of chestnut colored hair, pulled to one

side to show short hairs growing back on the other, the wrong color and style for

my little sister who's almost eleven months younger than me. The sound of

clicking keys stops, but she continues to sit there, not turning around, not moving,

just sitting there. I watch as her hair morphs into a rat's nest of greasy growth

that's matted together with old dark blood and dried mud. She slowly starts to

turn around and I notice she's wearing one of my T-shirts, though it's stained with

dirt, blood, and vomit. I glance down and see that it's the same T-shirt I'm wearing.

As I look up at her face as she stares at me with a hollow gaze, I realize this isn't

my sister, it's me. I stare into the eyes of myself as my mirror reflection starts to

deteriorate: her ghostly skin peeling and flaking; cuts, scraps, and scars fading in

as if drawn on; her eyes losing all lively glow that was always the only sign that I

was still alive. She stares at me, licking her bloodied lips hungrily, and snarls,

revealing black and red stained teeth. A horrible creature that was once me, once

almost pretty turned into something that never even knew the word. She starts to

talk, her voice not matching her appearance, filling my soul with a strangely

calming sense of emptiness, like that one song you've never heard before but you

know you already liked, almost as if it's a foreign language piercing through a

semiconscious cloud.

"She'll be the death of you. You know you won't survive on your own, but you

won't survive with Her as close as she is." Her voice sounds like my mother's, sweet

and thick like honey, but one with that edge that I know well. The edge that warns

of danger, the sharpness of the blade that says 'Back off'. I've been on the

receiving end of that voice at the dinner table and after school too many times to

count, but it still surprises me every time I hear it. I would run to my room, yelling

over my shoulder that I have homework just so I don't show the terror in my eyes. I

almost expect her to say that the principle called, again, or that I ' forgot' to do my

chores this week. She tips her head as if she's lost, pushing the computer off her

lap, "What's wrong, Kaitlyn? Scared of what you could become? Scared of what

you did? Scared of Sadie? Scared of," She pauses as she stands up, her ripped

clothes almost falling off her anorexic limbs and torso. " me?" She suddenly

charges, mouth gaping wide. I brace for an impact that never comes.

My eyes fly open, and I stare into the pitch blackness above me, my heart running laps

around my lungs. I take a few deep breaths, my eyes closing from fatigue as I attempt to keep

them open. Her last words stuck to me, hitting me deep in my soul. "Scared of me?" I didn't get

to respond and I'm glad because a stuttered "Yes, I'm sorry for what happened" just doesn't

seem like it would change anything. I finally let my eyes close, knowing that I will repeat the

entire dream over and over again, understanding my fate of this happening until Danny arrives

at sunrise to wake me up.

I feel something warm and soft press against my lips and my eyes slowly creep open. I

watch as Danny's head moves and our lips part. I attempt to open my mouth to say something

to him, but then remember that it is wired shut. I sigh and he looks at me worriedly, slightly

caressing my face, sending slight ripples of pain throughout it.

How much longer?

"Just a few days, it's not terribly dislocated,"

Fine, and good morning, love.

"Good morning, sweetheart. I know you are tired, but it's time to get up, I have soup for

you and I found some powdered milk and chocolate syrup in the back of the pantry,"

Joy.

"Don't be sarcastic, you should've fought back." I roll my eyes.

Wake me up when September ends. And with that I roll to my side and pull the blankets

up to my chin. The sigh that escapes Danny is one less of giving up and more of determination.

I squeeze my eyes shut, pulling my aching body into a tight ball, gripping the blanket as if my life

depends on it. I feel his arms slowly wrap around me, his warm embrace making me relax.

Feeling his grip tighten momentarily, I then feel weightless as he lifts me and pulls me to him. I

huff in mock indignation not willing to admit the fact that I actually like the feel of him carrying

me, not that I could do anything about it if I didn't. I feel the bounce of every step as it riverates

through my body. So, this is what it feels like to be Danny everyday. He sits me down and pulls

the blanket off of me. I shiver as the cold touches my bare skin and I look down at my barely

clothed body.

Where are my clothes?

"They had blood on them so I washed them. If you would've gotten up on your own, you

wouldn't be sitting there in your underwear right now. And plus, it's not that cold, it's June, not

January," He goes and gets the soup from the barely working stove that's probably older than I

am. I wait until he turns around and faces me before smirking, an evil glint in my eyes.

Let me see you strip down to your underwear and not be even the littlest bit chilly.

"You wish," Those two words are followed by an eye roll and a matching smirk of his own

as he turns around and starts to prepare the powdered milk. I tip up the soup and take a sip, the

soup burning my tongue and mouth then ultimately down my throat. Without turning around

Danny pipes up,

"Careful, it's hot," I roll my eyes and stick my middle finger up in the air in his direction,

knowing that he can't see it. I then carefully blow on my soup as he turns around again and sets

a glass of lukewarm milk on the table. I look at the milk, then back up at him, trying to hold my

look of disgust in. A smile splits his face and he laughs, the laugh that makes me forget just how

bad it is.

"I'm joking, I know you don't like it plain nor warm," He picks the glass back up and puts

it under the sink, the coolest spot in our little shelter of an abandoned hometown restaurant. I

cautiously tip the soup up again, this time it's cooler and I slowly sip the broth. Danny watches

me and I look at him, setting the half full bowl down.

No noodles?

"You can't really chew, given your condition so I didn't add noodles," I grunt and shrug

then drink the rest of the broth. When I set my bowl down, I notice something about his gaze. I

watch his concentrated eyes slowly rake themselves over my scraped and scarred body,

seemingly catching every detail, making me a little self-conscious. I pull my blanket off the chair

beside me and wrap it around my goosebumped body again. I watch Danny's eyes float to my

face and a question in his eyes. We both say it at the same time.

Why?

"Why?" He turns around quickly, but not before I see the smile on his face, "Jinx," he

mutters under his breath as he grabs my now slightly chilled milk. He sets the glass on the

counter and pours in more than enough chocolate syrup. Clink clink clink The metal spoon on

the glass sounds throughout the room and into the next, cutting through the silence like knives

in a fist fight. A grunt issues from the next room signalling of the now awake form of the

previously sleeping Sadie, who was dead to the world before she heard what sounds like a

dinner bell. Clink clink clink I listen intently as she starts her morning routine of roughing up her

bed just to fold her blankets. Danny sets the glass of chocolate milk in front of me and repeats

his question,

"Why? Why do you cover yourself back up?"

Why look at my scars?

"Because beauty is pain and there's beauty in everything." I roll my eyes and shrug off

the blanket, it slipping over my shoulders and falling to the floor. I stare deep into his eyes with a

small, flirtatious smile before grabbing the milk and slowly put the rim of the glass to my lips. I

only start to drink after I hear Sadie's bare feet slowly grind on the kitchen floor as she

groggedly trudges her way to the table.

"What in the world, Kaitlyn. Go put some clothes on, there are people here," Sadie says

disgustedly from behind me. I set the now half full glass on the table and turn towards her,

leaning on the table and crossing my legs, swallowing the last of the chocolate milk in my

mouth.

"Why must you think you rule everything? Some people don't think that dress is

appropriate, right Danny?" She looks at Danny, who is watching this exchange with interest. He

looks up at her.

"No, I kind of like it, actually," He holds back a grin.

"So, that's why you are doing this, all for his attention?" She pauses, waiting for a

response.

Mostly. With that, Danny chuckled.

"Kaitlyn, I'm expecting an answer, not spazzes with your fingers." Her shrewd tone sets

me off.

I did answer you. It's not my fault you can't understand me. If these words were audible,

they would match her tone. Quit throwing attitude, please.

"Sadie, she can't talk," Danny says with a straight face.

Sadie snorts, and starts to walk past. As she goes by the table, her arm suddenly snakes

out, knocking over my glass before any of us could move, splattering the contents all over the

floor.

"Oops, my bad," she comments sweetly, and continues her stroll past.

"Sadie, get over it." Danny's voice lashes out like a whip, low and cold. "Kaitlyn can't talk.

Her mouth is wired shut because someone lost her temper." Sadie wheels around to glare at

Danny, anger and heartbreak radiating from her.

"Shut up, Danny. You're to blame here, too." Saide stalks away, muttering quietly. My

finely tuned ears catch, "...should've killed her when I had the chance..." Before I can't hear her

anymore. Danny looks at me with apologetic eyes, and kneels to clean up the mess.

A week slowly goes by this way. I spend my days locked in silence as Sadie stalks

around, staring daggers at me, venom dripping from her words. I listen to Danny suffer from

stress as he tries to keep things under control, but Sadie has no desire to be controlled in that

way, and subtly lashes out at him whenever she can. I mostly avoid her, spending my time

either sleeping or staring out the window, watching what remained of the world go by, it was

almost as if I was back in my old life.

After about eight days of pure boredom, I receive my fully functional jaw back. I lay on

our makeshift couch while Danny carefully removes the wiring, glaring every now and then at

me for wincing. Sadie walks by and smirk at me.

"Wimp," I pull my upper lip back and snarl at her, receiving another glare from Danny.

Silence prevails because I couldn't snap back at her, giving her the satisfaction of my silence.

As he finishes, he breaks the silence.

"We're running pretty low on supplies, and the surrounding area isn't going to yield much

more. I'm afraid that we're going to have to move. I've already told Sadie about it. Maybe the

change of scenery will do us all good." With a final flick of his wrist, he removes the last wires

from my mouth. "There! Good as new, maybe a little better." He shows me a dazzling smile and

leans down to give me a peck on the lips, before striding off to gather his things. Looking after

him, I sigh gustily. Moving won't fix anything. She'll still be after me and the zombies will be too.

Poor Danny, he tries so hard to always have a solution, to keep the peace. I hope he has a plan

on where we are going to go. I rise slowly, and walk to my quarters to pack up, which just

happens to be a corner booth, the table on it's side like a door giving me relative privacy. As I

quickly tuck my folded clothes and essentials into my backpack I feel, rather than hear,

movement behind me. I force myself to turn slowly, and find Sadie hostiley staring at me from

the end of the bench, her elbow slung over the top, her hand loosely hanging. She has her

backpack strapped on and she tugs it into a more comfortable position. She doesn't speak, but

her eyes say volumes of hatred as she just glares at me. It goes on for a few more seconds,

then she walks away. I finish shoving my gear into the pack, cinching it down tight to zip it. I put

it on my back, it's weight throwing me off balance for a second, then it becomes strangely

comforting. I retrieve my 38. special from between the cracked cushions in the corner of the

seat, rotating the cylinder to ensure that it is loaded. Reassured, I slip it into my back pocket and

slide a karambit into its sheath on my leg. Lastly, I grab my aluminum pipe wrench on the way

out the door, tossing it slightly in my hands, feeling the weight pull at my muscles. I meet Danny

and Sadie on the way to the door. As we approach the door, Sadie spins around three times,

her usual routine before going through, or exiting a doorway. Her expression clearly indicates

she doesn't approve of the whole world in general and surely less of me. I stare blankly at her

as she clutches her 12 gauge, one hand on the pump, one hand near the trigger, eyeing me up

and down as if wondering whether or not to use it. Danny looks tremendously stressed and

worn out. He carries his AR-15 loosely, and bounces on the balls of his feet, clearly ready to be

off. I give him a little smile when Sadie isn't looking, and he grins back, an expression that

makes my heart run laps in my chest.

"Alright! Are we ready to go?" Danny's voice is little more than a whisper, as the need for

silence is absolute. The slightest noise could bring zombies lurching to you, intent on yet

another meal. Sadie nods wordlessly, her gaze snapping back to him, her eyebrows pulling

together at his grin.

"All set," I mutter back, and we start off through the now open door, shoes treading

noiselessly across the field in front of our old stronghold, toward the road. I take one last look

back at the restaurant, happy to leave the blood stained sidewalk and kitchen behind. The small

town is dangerously tight and suffocating, the place still having a happy glow to it, though it has

changed since my friends took me here years ago. Most times, change is a good thing, but

sometimes, change is the worst thing that could happen. This used to be a happy little town,

with safe parks and small diners, the kind of town where everyone knew everyone and called

them by name, but nowhere is safe anymore, no matter how much you pretend like it is. Every

step you take is dangerous, every noise you make could get you killed, every moment could be

your last if you aren't careful. Our minds are never quiet, they never sleep, never able to relax.

We live in fear because hope isn't around anymore. Every movement or noise makes people

freeze up and brace for death, knowing that one day, they are going to slip up and the inevitable

will happen. Death seems to constantly surround us, tangibly thick in every moment. I look at

the concrete walls as we pass them. What used to be simple graffiti became something fearful,

holding messages like "God can't save you now" and "They are hungry, you are slow, they take one

bite, and off your head we'll blow". The buildings look like they will crumble at any moment, much

more now than before. The hours pass in silence as conversation is too risky, but Danny and I

keep exchanging glances and delayed snippets of signed conversation behind Sadie's back. As

we travel through the small towns. Every now and again a hollow moan would rise up, echoing

through the silent air, and we all freeze, guns ready to shoot, listening for the slap-slide of

shuffling feet, or moans growing progressively closer. Toward the afternoon, we stop to eat in

an abandoned diner. Great, another restaurant. I just hope that we don't plan to stay at this one

for long. I'm dying to have a real conversation with Danny, to put him at ease, but that is out of

the question. What's bothering him so much? It could be Sadie, but that's sorta unlikely. Who

am I kidding, he's probably worried about me. Jeez, I'll keep myself in check, it's her that needs

a chill pill. I continue to think as I work my way through a tasteless beef stroganoff MRE. At least

there is salt and pepper at the diner so it isn't as bad as it could be. I keep snatching glances at

Danny as he surveys the area, keeping an eye out for any movement outside Our midday meal

is interrupted, as a clatter of pans sounds from the kitchen and a door to the rear of the diner

swings open. A decomposing corpse in what might have been cheap chefs attire limps out,

moaning loudly. Sadie freezes in mid-bite from the shock, and I push back from the table,

preparing to bolt. Danny remedies the situation quickly, leaping up from his chair and whipping

out a long iron pipe. With a single, fluid motion he brings it up and around in a blurred arc,

landing a solid blow directly on the zombie's face. As it stumbles back, blood spilling out of the

huge and newly created dent in its face, Danny repeats the motion, smashing in the creature's

face until it collapses. The whole sequence likely took only seconds, but it feels as if an hour

had passed. Wiping his weapon down on the motionless body's clothes, he whispers urgently,

snapping Sadie out of her trance.

"We need to leave. Now." Sadie quickly gobbles the rest of the pasta off her plate as we

all swiftly slip on our packs and bolt for the door. I glance back to see Sadie doing her 3 spins as

another zombie comes trotting towards her, tripping over the ghoulish chef on his way. She

finishes her last turn just in time and we race out of the diner and down the street. From behind

us, a chorus of moans sound as walkers shove themselves out of doors, from under debris

piles, and alleyways to pursue us. Glancing back, I count ten or twelve decaying forms

shambling after us. From the rear, Danny yells, reading my mind.

"If we fight, it'll just bring more. We have to outrun them." I wordlessly increase my pace,

Sadie hot on my heels, and we streak down the street, sneakers pounding the hot pavement

beneath us. Following Danny's rapid-fire instructions, Sadie and I zig-zag left and right, running

helter skelter through town. My legs start to burn and my lungs beg for mercy but I don't stop, I

didn't dare. We come closer and closer to the edge of some kind of dense forest or woods. By

the time Danny deems it safe to stop, we are all exhausted and somewhat lost. I bend down,

hands on my knees, sucking in air like a vacuum.

"Where to now?" I pant, and Sadie repeats the question when I am not provided with an

instant answer. I immediately regret the decision of asking, as his face shows obvious distress.

"I'm not sure. We can't stay in the city much longer, they won't quit hunting us. We'll rest

up a bit, and I'll think about it." I nod my head wearily, and collapse on the ground, the weight of

my backpack seeming to drag me down. Sadie stays standing, staring out in all directions

around us, looking lost and scared, like the time we had our first road trip together. I don't mean

to lie down long, but the sun is warm, and I'm exhausted from my sprint. Without wanting to, I

begin to doze off, repeatedly shaking myself awake before descending into slumber. As my

eyes grow heavy, I can't stop the dream from approaching, it crawling into my subconscious,

playing like a real time movie.

The house I'm looking at is decent sized, small enough to comfortably be

the home to a family of four, but still big enough that you could squeeze a family

of six into it's bedrooms. It is ours, well... Was. It is time for us to move, there isn't

anymore supplies to keep us there. We have to leave, Danny and I, so we walk,

scouting for a new house, a new place. A place that we can stay at for a while and

be safe, a house like that seems impossible to find now, was it even real? Danny is

looking for a secure house to stay in for a few months, I'm looking for a home I

could raise a family in forever. The road we are walking down, hand in hand,

suddenly turns to dirt.

"This must be a rural side of the area, which is even better than the city, less

chance of being seen or eaten." Danny smiles, clearly giddy about our odds and

ready to be in a kitchen, whipping up the rest of the perishables that are still

edible. His hand tightens a little on mine and his pace increases slightly.

"I guess so." I try to match his smile but I can't. There is a twisting sensation

in my gut that makes me feel uneasy and on edge. Danny must have sensed it

because he stops in his tracks and turns to me.

"Kaitlyn, we've made it this far, you should be happy! Proud of us, even." He

gets in front of me and takes my chin in his fingers, looking into my violet eyes as

if gazing deep into a galaxy of stars. His thumb gently runs over the scars on my

cheek, his smile sinking a little as he starts to slip into a deep thinking state.

"I am proud, of one of us..." I mumble, I start to walk again as Danny thinks of

something wonderful and sweet to reply back with. He doesn't come up with a

response to that because he knows that I'm not proud of surviving the problem I

created. He skips a few steps to catch up with me and slips his hand in mine,

making me smile. As the dirt road ahead of us makes a few twists and turns,

Danny squeezes my hand a little. My heart flips and erratically starts beating,

skipping a few too. How could someone so simple make me feel this way? He's the

only one who makes me feel like this.

"Up ahead, do you see it?" Danny suddenly says, making me focus on

reality.

"See what?"

"The red thing, I think it's a barn which means there's a nice farm house,

which means there's probably a bunch of fresh and canned food."

"Oh... I see it... Do you think it's a good idea? That means we have to search

both the house and the barn," My worried tones always comes up when we are

looking for a house. Danny stays quiet until we can see the house.

"There are two stories, lots of room, not a lot of windows or whatever to

barricade or protect. It's not a huge barn like mine so we should be safe until

morning to check it," Our eyes look at the sun, knowing that sunset will be in an

hour or so, both hoping that this house is good enough and relatively zombie

free. Danny knows that I will whine about a house unless it's dark. I'm terrified of

the dark and what's in it and Danny knows it very well. He slings his arm over my

shoulder and we start walking a bit quicker to the nice 2 story house. We look at it,

no ominous bullet holes, no broken or bloodied windows, It looked like a nice

family home before the apocalypse. Danny and I shared a look that was a

question of "Is it too nice? What secrets were hidden on the inside?" Danny left me

standing on the path leading to the front door, gun raised, ready to fire if I

needed to, hoping that I wouldn't have to. He scouts the parameter, peering

through the windows, checking to see that we won't break into a horde or

hibernating zombies or even a family hiding in the basement, ready to shoot

anything that walks in the door. He comes back with a blank face and shrugs,

slowly opening the door, ready to shoot. I follow him inside. We creep around the

mud room, looking at the nicely stacked shoes and the carefully hung jackets and

umbrellas. I slowly and carefully open the door to my right as Danny keeps watch,

glancing at me as I peek inside. Nothing but winter coats. You can never be too

cautious these days, but you definitely can be too curious. I guess it's a good

thing that I'm only slightly curious... Sometimes. We walk through the doorway into

a nice house. We start to carefully look around the house, searching for traps,

food, any sign of life, and water, grabbing a little of the water we found in case

and some canned food we have to dash. We go through the entire down stairs,

everything as if the apocalypse was just a figment in dreams and video games, as

if zombies only came alive in the movies, as if all those books lied about the whole

thing. We glance at each other before mounting the stairs. Before going up, a

glance back at the door, closed but easily torn open if needed. Slowly climbing

the stairs, my gun pointed behind, his pointed in front. There are four bedrooms

upstairs, two on one side and two on the other with a bathroom in between two of

them. We start at the first room, the closest to us, slowly creaking the door open.

It's a room with dark purple walls and a ceiling painted with yellowish white stars. I

flick on the light and slowly walk in. Danny was following, checking under the bed

and in the closet. I look around at all the astrology equipment: the telescope, the

star maps, the posters with constellations and the moon phases. Danny notices

something else though. We both turn towards each other at the same time, our

voices quiet and hushed.

"She seemed to like the night sky a lot," I say as he says, "She wears your

size," I look at him confused and he holds up a shirt on a hanger and a pair of

skinny jeans, both dark in color. He sets them down and steps towards me. I raise

my arms slightly, thinking that he's going to hug me. Instead, he steps past me to

look out the window. Heat creeps up to my face from embarrassment. I go to turn

around, but then I feel his arms quickly wrap around me from behind, my face

cracking a slight smile.

"We need to find you clothes, ones that you like." He says into my hair, this

new place getting him in a cuddly mood.

"I'm sure that shirt would fit me, but...," I pull myself from him and turn

around to face him, "honestly I'd rather die than put on those skinny jeans."

"At least you're honest," he chuckles slightly, to which I look at him, a bigger

smile stretching my face, "But let me be honest, I think they'd look hot on you,"

"Just give me the shirt, Danny." I hide the fifty shades of red that are

creeping along my cheeks and tell Danny to turn around, making him promise not

to peek. I quickly rip off my shredded and stained white t-shirt, that I stole from a

store after the virus broke out everywhere, and slip on the navy blue t-shirt with a

full moon graphic on it. When I look in the mirror on the closet door, I notice that

my shirt has paint splattered on it, all different colors, some bits of green and

purple, orange and yellow, looking like stars against the dark background. I turn

to Danny with a smile and ask how I look. He turns around, his poker face straight,

but showing a little fear, and looks me dead in the eye, his voice serious.

"We have to check the rest of the house before dark," He glances outside at

the darkening sky, knowing that we have to finish before we end up having to run

in the dark.

"Right." My smile quickly disappears as reality sets back in. There is one

window in this bedroom, so I peek out of it, seeing the red barn perfectly. The barn

doors are wide open, but silent. I alert Danny to the fact quietly, not able to tell if

that is a bad sign or a good sign.

"We will check out the barn tomorrow, right? Not right now?" I ask, stepping

closer to him, ready to continue searching the house.

"Yeah, we aren't going back outside tonight if I can help it," We sneak out of

the room, checking for any noise, the whole house silent.

"I have a gut feeling that something isn't right. Not like there are zombies

here, but how come this nice place stayed so nice? We couldn't have been the

only ones here, right?."

"Well this is the countryside, love. I'm sure not many people have come here.

It took us a days worth of walking from the city to here, I don't know anyone with

that kind of want to be on their feet all the time, besides the track team and ballet

dancers."

"It's still unsettling. I'll feel better once we check the place out and make sure

it's safe." My stomach growls, "And dinner,"

"Agreed." He smiles and gently pats my stomach for a second then turns

back around.

I held my karambit with a white knuckle grip in one hand, my pistol in

the other, my wrists stacked so the pistol was on top and had support. The dark

room filled with stars and all things related is on the right, along with another

bedroom polar opposite of it right next to it. We search the room, finding nothing

that would be considerably useful. Seeming like a guest bedroom, due to the lack

of personal items, we quickly check for any hidden life and exit, shutting the door

behind us. As we cross over to the left, glancing down the stairs as we go, we open

the door to another decorated bedroom, this one looking ransacked and

unkempt, a few dead flies lay motionless around some piles of moldiness, now

unidentifiable of what they originally were.

"This was definitely a teenage boy's room," I mutter as Danny checks under

the bed and in the closet, getting slightly excited by the possibility of having a

fresh wardrobe. He pulls out a shirt and holds up the double XL polo, looking

disappointed. I stifle a laugh as he throws down the shirt and practically storms

out of the room. We go to the bathroom, which is in the middle of the boy's room

and the last room. It is a normal enough bathroom: toilet, shower with a bathtub,

sink, cabinets filled with ointments and a few medicines, lotions and hair care

supplies. But yet the bathroom wasn't so usual for the reason of the random,

colorful, and extremely detailed paintings on the walls and even some of the

ceiling.

"Someone here clearly loves to paint." Danny says quietly. I notice he says it

like this person is still here, like he's back in the part of his mind that says the

apocalypse isn't real. I adore that part of him, how something beautiful can make

him forget about all the troubles, all the mistakes, all the bad things in the world. I

just nod my head in agreement as I marvel over him and then the paintings,

shutting the door to see to ones on the back as well. The back of the door holds

at least twenty different small paintings, some bright colors, some dark colors,

some with both. On the ceiling there is a patch of blue, purple, red, orange and a

streak of neon green. It looks like something you'd see in space, like a nebula or

something like it. It looks so real that I feel as if I was staring at the real thing, as if

a hole is in the ceiling to reveal such beauty, but it's trapped in a cloud, like a

cartoon thought bubble. On the wall behind Danny is a unicorn with hair that

flows so well it looks like liquid. Bright colors cover its body and a black splotch of

paint is behind it, making the bright colors appear even brighter. Next to the wide

mirror is an astronaut, a black void for a face, sitting on the moon in a lime green

lawn chair with the earth the size of a quarter over his shoulder. His white helmet

is next to his left foot, his right one resting on top of his left knee. There is an old

classic pipe in his right hand, a fluffy looking rainbow smoke escaping it and

billowing out into the open air. The smoke turns into the sky, looking like a galaxy,

as if the astronaut had created it by mindful will. As I get lost in the paintings,

Danny's voice suddenly rips me back to reality.

"We should take these. We might need them," he whispers, "They could be

very valuable to us and others, lifesaving, even," I nod and start shoving some of

the medicines in my backpack; pain medication, Tylonol, menstrual cramp

medication, vitamins, and I even look for pads or tampons, but I don't find any. I

grab a bottle of lotion and itching cream and shove them in as well, those being

some of the best life savers I've ever known. The swirling sensation in my gut

comes back, making me uncomfortable and sick again. I s it because we were

technically stealing? Is that what is making me feel uneasy? No, I've stolen so

many times before. As my mind wanders slightly, we finish shoving the last bit of

supplies from the cabinet into our bags, slinging them back on our shoulders.

Right before Danny opens the door, I set my hand on his. With the swirling feeling

in my gut, it creates another one that could be solved in the bathroom. He looks

at me and I blush a little.

"I have to pee," I whisper and he smiles, rolling his eyes and shaking his

head. I go over to the toilet and use it as he sets his forehead against the door as

if irritated. I flush the toilet praying that it works and pull up my pants as he turns

around.

"Great, now I have to pee, thanks," Danny says with mock irritation and I

laugh.

"Too bad, you can't," I cross my arms and tip my head up, pretending like I'm

serious.

"And why is that?" Danny steps closer to me, pretending to do the potty

dance. I roll my eyes and let him pass, facing the door while he does his business,

gently tapping on the wood to the tune of my favorite song. I hear Danny's zipper

go up and he comes behind me, placing his hands on my elbows. I knock them

both away, turning to him, disgusted.

"You didn't wash your hands,"

"Neither did you," I stare at him like that's the dumbest thing he's ever said

and he looks back at me with the same intensity.

"Fair enough," I wrench open the bathroom door and stalk to the last room

we have to check, not very worried about what I'll see on the other side. Danny

puts his hand on the doorknob, ready to open and shoot if needed, then a smell

touched my nose. My heart starts to hammer in my chest, my nose gathering

more of this unknown scent, the fowl smell getting in my mouth, making it water,

but not because it's appetizing, but to cleanse it off my pallet. I stare at Danny

with a strained intensity, him freezing and taking a few deep breaths before

looking at me. His voice is so quiet that it's not even a whisper.

"You smell it too?" I watch his lips move, barely a noise coming out, reading

his lips like we used to back when we silently video chatted throughout the night. I

nod once and he brings his gun up, wiping his eyes and looking back at the door.

I continue to look at him, knowing that the smell is familiar to him, knowing that it

brings back terrible memories for him. He slowly opens the door. The first thing I

see is the double blood splatters on the wall above the headboard. Then, I notice

the two slumped over figures in the bed, faceless, bloodied, deader than the

zombies. Danny stands at the door, disgusted and terrified, not moving. I go in the

room, checking under the bed and in the his and her closets. Nothing

threatening, so I walk back out, closing the door behind me. I drag Danny back

the the starry room by the arm, sitting him down on the bed. I look at him, ruffling

his hair a little bit. He looks up at me with puppy dog eyes and my heart melts. I

lean forward and kiss him, his eyes closing as he wraps his arms around me,

pulling me into him. I close my eyes, my heart beating rapidly. He pulls me into his

lap and then he lays back.

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