3 SET 3

"Ashton? Who's that?" pipes Sadie. I look at Sadie, her face drooping from the intense

grief in my eyes.

"Ashton is the boy who helped me ruin the world, you'd probably like him," I try to add

the last part to stop the flashback, but it's too strong. I swallow hard and the flashback that

comes is unstoppable.

That dare, that stupid dare. I couldn't say no to a dare, never been able to.

Today acts so bland as if a two nights ago didn't happen, as if we both had just

stayed in bed. I'm walking to his house again, just like I had a few nights previous,

but this time, not on my way to pick him up. My mind starts and stops like a game

of​ "Red light, green light",​ thinking too much and not enough. Trying to figure out

how how to talk to him about what happened, I understand that I can't blame him

for running away. I turn into his driveway, his house being ten times nicer than

mine, it seems more inviting, as its well kept and clean yard leads up to a solid

cedar door. His house is nothing like my own, that has everyone sharing rooms

while little monstrous heathens run around and break things. I almost start to

doubt myself and turn back, maybe it's my gut trying to tell me that something's

wrong but I just chalk it up to being paranoid. Ashton greets me at the door. As I

walk in, it takes my breath away. It's much more clean and well kept than any

place I've ever been. Crystal chandeliers, plush carpet, glass cut door knobs,

french doors, marble patio, I could go on and on. He leads me to his living room,

sitting down and looking visibly nervous. I remember seeing him in hallways and

such, he always looked scared, but never this scared. I remember seeing him take

a beating. I might have stopped it if I had the time to care. Guilt spreads through

me as I look at his scarred face. ​I should I have stopped it.​ His sister walks into the

room. For not liking blond girls, I think she's kinda pretty. The jealousy of her

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beauty pings at me, like someone tapping on the outside of a fish tank, as I

marvel over her clear skin and her silky hair. I almost want to be pretty like her. I

notice that he seems like he is finally comfortable when she makes her

appearance. He stops stuttering almost entirely and he relaxes as I feel his

nervousness melt away. She looks me up and down, a slight smile on her face.

"So, Kaitlyn. I'm Elizabeth, but you can call me Liz. I've heard a​ lot ​about you.

So, how did the date go with my brother? Did you have fun? Ashton didn't give me

all the juicy details," She says excitedly as she sits down on the couch opposite of

us. I look at Ashton and he looks at me expectantly.

"You didn't tell her?" I ask with mock incredulous tone. His eyes plead for me

to not tell of the events, "Well, I'll tell her then. I took Ashton out for pizza and he

loved it. I ordered him a pepperoni pizza all to himself and I ordered a

chicken-bacon-ranch pizza. Well, when I got my wallet out to pay, this young

gentleman pays for me. I was so surprised and like uber grateful, so grateful that I

actually kissed him. He blushed like crazy, which I thought was so cute so I kissed

him again. Well, then we went strolling in the park, in the moonlight, it was so

romantic. Then, we heard some noises and we ran as fast as we could because we

were scared. Then, as we were running, we decided to each go home so that's why

I didn't deliver him personally because I take a different route to get to my house,"

My normal monotine of a voice went all out girly to explain a story I had

concocked during my classes.

Ashton and I made up that we were going on a date so we had an excuse to

be together that night. Liz let out a small dry laugh and we hear the front door

open.

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"Mom's home from shopping, you two go up to Ashton's room, I'll keep her

busy," Liz says as we all stand up. Ashton tugs at my hand, pulling me to the

staircase. Before I am forced to climb the stairs, I see a short, blond woman in a

small, tightly-fitting black dress stumble into the house with shopping bags

bundled in each hand. A matching black sun hat is perched crookedly on top of

her head, revealing her oversized sunglasses and dark red lipstick. She stumbles

a few more steps before plopping her bags down as Liz guides her mother to the

couch. She looks like she might faint at any second, muttering insanities to Liz in

a whisper. I remember the name of the beautiful women from the news, Marie. I am

then suddenly yanked up the stairs and down the hall to Ashton's large bedroom.

I've been in this room only once before. I look around it, but sit on his small

loveseat, sighing and slouching against the back cushion.

"How did you come up with that lie so fast?"

"I worked on it all day long," He tips his head at me and makes a finger gun

at me as if saying ​"Gotcha".​ We hang out for about two hours, talking about what

happened, going over our story, trying not to blame the other for it. Then a

scream sounds from downstairs, a scream of pain and bloody murder. I look at

Ashton and his eyes are full of fear. He races to his door and rips it open, me hot

on his heels. He runs down the stairs, practically flying. I follow and turn the

corner around the stairs to see the lifeless form of his sister's body. As I get closer,

my stomach clenches. Elizabeth is lying in a growing pool of ruby red blood, her

shirt and stomach torn open, and her internal organs thrown about the place. I

watch in horror as Ashton barely has enough time to turn away from her before

he throws up. The vomit seems to fit in very well with the scene before us, as his

vomit is filled with chunks of the medium rare steak he had less than an hour ago.

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I look up away from his vomit, feeling my stomach growl. The vomit didn't make me

hungry, it's the luxury this boy lived in. I can just imagine the taste of a finely

cooked venison steak, laying over a bed of fresh salad, a loaded baked potato on

the side, and a nice glass of red wine. My split second day dream is cut short as I

notice something, something so small that it's almost insignificant. I lean in closer,

gently pushing a section of her intestines out of the way with my shoe, and turn to

Ashton.

"Uh, Ashton?" I say worriedly. He coughs and sputters then looks at me.

"Did you know that she was pregnant?"

"What? S-she's not. No, she d-d-di-didn't tell me that she was pre-pregnant,

only that her ex b-boyfriend, uh, took ad- ad- a- advantage of her and

s-sh-she-she doesn't b-believe in abortion, b-but, she can't b-be-be, i-i-it can't be

like th-that..." his rambling stutters trip over each other before he suddenly

pauses, he doesn't look at her, instead he locks his eyes on mine, "how

d-do-do-d-do you k-know?" I move the body organ towards him, the three month

old baby just visible through the torn womb. Ashton's eyes go wide and he turns

again to vomit, just as he did moments ago. I feel my heart race and my fingers

tremble, one simple thought burned in my mind. W

​ hat happened?​ I hear a thump

sound behind me and we both spin around to see Ashton's mother standing

there, a once very beautiful woman, now a horrid looking beast. As we watch in

horror, Marie's body starts to spasm and yellowish foam drips from her lipstick

and blood-smeared mouth. Ashton starts to scream for help. I walk backwards,

away from her as cautiously as I could, whatever is happening to her isn't right.

Spine-chilling gurgled screams come out of her mouth and she suddenly throws

her head back. ​God, is that... Some skin chunks in between her teeth?! ​When she

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does tip her head, I see the oval bite mark on her neck. The skin around the bite

looks as if it is bubbling and turning yellow and red. I hear poor Ashton, still

screaming, screaming for help, though we both know it isn't coming. That's when

Marie goes crazy, her body convulses and she lunges at Ashton. I trip over Liz's

body, landing my butt in her blood that's now soaking into the carpet. Before

anything worse can happen, I twist my body and dig the tip of my shoes into the

soft, warm, plush carpet to get me out of there. As soon as I get out, I don't look

back, I just keep running as fast as my legs will go. Sirens can be heard, rushing to

get to the place they were called, I hope it's Ashton's house, he needs it.

Suddenly, I come back to the present. The vision of the memory fading away from my

view and vanishing like a fog cloud. I look up to see Danny and Jeff, they are standing over me

looking concerned.

"Love? What happened to you?" Danny asks me, worry written all over his face.

"Nothing... It was just... I don't know." I reply as I notice that I'm on the floor.

"Bed. She needs rest," Jeff says, picking me up and setting me into Danny's arms like a

small child.

"No, Jeff, wait! I need answers. Where is he?" I call as Danny carries me to the stairs.

"Who are you talking about?" Danny asks me as he was walking up the steps to put me

to bed.

"Looks like​ 'Little one'​ lost her marbles." Sadie giggles and pats my head, "Don't worry,

everyone loses them at some point. Good night." Sadie, unlike usual, looks kind to me, almost

understanding. Even though she basically just called me crazy, I don't take it offensively like I

normally would.

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"Jeff, where is he?!" I ask again, this time more urgently. Jeff doesn't react, nor say

anything and looks away, as if to start doing a task rather than talk to me. Danny takes me to

my new room and gently sets me on the bed.

"Who are you talking about?" he asks again, searching my eyes for the answer.

"It's nothing."

"Are you sure? It sure seems like something..."

"I just... I don't feel well. Another memory is all..." I trail off, lost in my own thoughts.

Danny must feel my mood, and how I don't want to talk about it, so he lets it be. Though I feel

his concern and sense his need to question me, he keeps himself in check, and I don't budge.

Danny lets go of me on the bed and slides to the floor beside my legs, resting his head on my

knees. The door swings open, and Jeff's frame appears in the doorway.

"Out, Danny. She needs her rest."

"But I-" Danny starts, but Jeff cuts in like a bandsaw.

"Out. Now. You're in no shape to argue, head for your own room." Danny rises, glances

at me tenderly, then slowly walks to the door. I lay down, roll over, and close my eyes. I will get

my answers, no matter how long it takes to get them. Though I expect sleep, it doesn't come to

me. An hour passes by, all the while I lay there, tuning in to all of the sounds I hear within the

house. Downstairs, I hear Sadie questioning Jeff again, her voice rising and falling. The room

next to me, I hear Danny's soft voice singing and humming, underlined with the occasional

whispered words, sometimes about me, sometimes about other pressing things. Slowly, all

sounds fade from my consciousness as sleep sets in. My dream that follows is nothing but

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black, no sounds, no light, just black. I am actually grateful for this dream rather than another

nightmare.

My eyes fly open suddenly. The room is pitch black, and there is no sound, no reason for

me to be awake. ​I wonder what Jeff has planned for tomorrow. I still need to find out about

Ashton! He doesn't seem too anxious to tell me, though.​ Outside, an owl hoots, breaking the

night stillness. I yawn and stretch a little, toying with the idea of going for a walk or exploring the

house. Settling for just looking out my window, I stroll over to gaze out at the moonlit estate.

Sheds and equipment are laid out across the grounds, and the tall grass waves slowly in the

night air. All is still, not even a passing zombie breaks the picturesque scene before me. Just as

I turn away, a flashing light catches my eye. Startled, I turn back to the window and wait. Sure

enough, another flash, originating from inside the gate. It's answered by another, from outside. I

clap a hand over my mouth. ​Oh my gosh, people are sneaking in! What do they want?​ I

scamper back to the wall, flicking on the light switch and pulling out my .38 special and

karambit. I swing the door open, intent on warning Danny. Just as I reach his door, a gloved

hand catches my wrist.

"Let him rest, Kaitlyn. Help me if you want, but I have to deal with this." I turn slowly to

see Jeff standing behind me. He is dressed in the same leather jacket as when we had first

stumbled upon him in the forest, as well as camouflage pants. The smiling mask covers his face

again, and his hunting knife is sheathed on his belt. He carries what looks like a silenced,

scoped rifle of some kind.

"Old military issue. It'll do the job," he says, answering my appraising look of the rifle.

"I'm coming with you," I whisper, and he nods, turning to descend the stairs. We slink

into the tunnels. As we go, his speed increases from a walk to a trot, then to a run. Jeff slowly

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eases the door of the now-familiar shed open, and we slip out through the crack like shadows.

He crouches down behind an old, rusted-out Chevy and motions for me to do the same.

"Here. Take the rifle and give me your revolver. It's a night vision scope, you'll see them

fine. I'm going to see what they want. Cover me, and start shooting if they do." He lays the rifle

in the grass, and I hand him the revolver. After retrieving Jeff's weapon, I look up to find he has

disappeared into the grass. I slowly balance my new weapon on the rusted metal hood of the

truck, and take a quick look around. I am surprised at my efficiency in familiarizing myself with

the rifle. I saw hopefully all the intruders. There are six of them, all armed with some sort of

silenced semi-automatic pistols. Carefully, I align the crosshairs on the leader, and track him as

they make their way through the grassy yard. Suddenly, I feel sick. ​What am I doing? Am I really

thinking about shooting down a man in cold blood? Why did I agree to come? I can't do this. ​My

thoughts tinge the doubt, but then other thoughts come through. ​If you don't, they will. They will

kill you, and Jeff... and Danny.​ That thought makes me reluctantly keep tracking the intruders.

Jeff is depending on me, everyone is.​ The men stop for a moment, and Jeff steps out in front of

them, my revolver in his belt and his knife in his hand. The strangers all take a step backward,

except for the leader, who raises his pistol and advances. He stops a few feet from Jeff, gun still

raised, and they begin to talk. ​Jeff can handle him, ​ ​right? He won't need me.​ I slowly train the

rifle on one of the men in the back, and my feelings of guilt and horror increase a little. I shove it

all back down, but not as easily as last time. Suddenly, Jeff whips my revolver up and around,

blasting the intruder in the stomach, then in the face. Without thinking, I squeeze the trigger and

the rifle rocks in my hands, the speedy bullet killing the rear guard instantly. The strangers

scatter in fear and Jeff swiftly shoots two more as they take cover, then has to run himself as the

others violently return fire. Panic engulfs me like a wildfire, but I force it all down like vomit at a

carnival. Relaxing my arms and my shaking fingers, something catches my eye, one of the

trespassers popping up to fire at Jeff. I instinctively shoot him through the upper torso with

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another rock from the gun. Despite what I just did, I allow a small smile to appear on my face;

I'm getting used to this gun. He falls sideways, like a dead tree, flopping twice in the grass and

is still. Slowly, I notice that MacLennen has been army crawling through the grass, and is now

only a few feet away from the sole survivor, who is edging away, clearly noticing that he is the

last man standing. I hesitate, waiting to see if Jeff will take action so I don't have to. Luckily, he

does, springing up like a wild panther. The last assailant shrinks back, effectively dooming

himself. Jeff's arm arcs up, and the deadly knife buries itself in the man's chest, then his throat.suddenly feel unable to hold myself up, my legs give out without warning and I fall backward,

unable to stand any longer. The rifle slides off the car hood, landing with a thump in the grass

next to me. Scrambling off of my butt and to my knees, I gag, wishing I could vomit. I grab Jeff's

rifle and try to stand up slowly, sick to my stomach at the thought of what I had just done.

MacLennen rounds the car, and I collapse again, my knees too weak to support me. My heart

thunders loudly in my chest, my vision blurs, and my hands feel so useless that the gun slips

from my fingers again. Jeff kneels next to me and starts to rapidly pat me down in an

examination.

"You hurt?" he grunts from under his mask. It takes me a second to respond, the wild

beating of my heart makes me feel like I'm out of air. When I do open my mouth to speak, I look

away from the mask, from Jeff, and I focus all my willpower on trying to sound stronger than I

really am.

"No, I'm fine. Just a little shook up," I feel relief flood through me when the sentence is

finally out of my mouth and I get to close it again. His hand rests on my shoulder for a few

seconds but then he lifts me up, and the mask levels itself at my face for a long time.

"I'm sorry. I know it was hard," he says, hands clasps tightly to my shoulders. I wobble

for a bit, trying to get the dizziness to go away, as Jeff helps me stay stable.

I

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"It wasn't hard, that's just it. It's scary how easy it was," I reply, barely keeping my voice

level. I fear if I say anymore, I would start crying, or worse, whatever is happening to me would

get harder to deal with. Jeff pulls me to him suddenly, in a tight hug. I rest my head on his

shoulder, unable to keep a little sob from escaping my lips. Releasing me quickly after, he picks

up his rifle, a grunt escaping his mouth. When he stands up, I notice the wet blood on my,

otherwise clean, shirt. When the realization comes in that it isn't my blood, I look to Jeff and feel

my eyes go wide. My blurry vision clears, my fingers stop shaking, and my heart pulsing doesn't

hurt me as much anymore.

"You're shot!"

"I'll live," comes the terse response.

"We need to get you help. Can you make it back to the house?" I ask, oddly focused yet

really concerned. Jeff nods, and we run back to the shed, slipping through the door and down

the stairs. I hardly notice a new mural on the wall as we rush through the tunnel, drops of blood

marking a grisly path behind us. Jeff breathes heavy, and his hand clutches at his shoulder.

"Lay down on the couch," I order as we enter the house. It feels odd to be the one

barking orders, but in this situation, somehow I am perfectly level headed. He heads for the

living room, and I rush up the stairs to the bathroom, in pursuit of medical supplies. Sadie's door

creeks open as I flew by, and she rushes in after me.

"What's going on, Kaitlyn? I heard gunshots!" she inquires as I ransack the shelves for

gauze, bandages, and antiseptic. ​I wonder if he has any alcohol to ease his thinking.

"Intruders. Jeff's been shot," I explain, rushing back out of the bathroom after gathering

all the things I need. Sadie follows quickly after me down the stairs and into the living room

where Jeff sits on the floor, his back against the couch. He has his jacket removed as well as

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his mask, and shirt. His face is screwed up in a dirty grimace. His hand is clasped to his

shoulder, and blood seeps out from between his fingers, seemingly in pulses.

"Right in the meaty part of the shoulder," he grunts at me, then, "Hello Sadie."

"Hello Jeff. How can I help?" Sadie responds nonchalantly as she dips a cotton pad in

antiseptic.

"Heat a sharp knife. We'll have to cut it out." I stare at Jeff in shock, reading his face to

see if that's really what he wants. But Sadie pulls out her pocket knife and runs to the kitchen

without any questions. ​Maybe she's done this before? She lived a farm life so it's possible.​ For a

while all is silent save MacLennen's occasional grunt or low hiss as I clean the wound, trying not

to think about what I am doing. Sadie walks in and kneels next to Jeff and I, the blade of her

knife slightly glowing a faint red.​ How did she even get it that warm? It's not like she can put it in

the microwave.

"Finished Kaitlyn?" she asks, looking slightly worried.

"All done," I respond and begin to cut a length of bandage with my karambit. Jeff leans

down, tearing off a hunk of gauze, and bites down on it. A little confused at first, I quickly realize

why he does that, remembering what we are doing.​ We're cutting out a bullet and that probably

really hurts, duh!

"I'll do it, Kaitlyn," Sadie whispers, looking uncomfortable. I'm not about to argue so I

scoot out of her way and try not to hold my breath in suspense. She poses the knife right above

the wound, takes a deep breath and suddenly cuts into MacLennen's shoulder, probing for the

bullet. An inhuman scream forces itself around the gauze, but Sadie keeps hunting a

concentrated look plastered to her face. My fingers tremble, I know he will be okay, but the

possibility is always there that he might not be. ​I won't lose him, not for a stupid reason like this.

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"Got it!" she cries triumphantly, and suddenly a small round object pops out of the wound

and rolls onto the floor. Sadie scoots back, keeping her eyes on Jeff as I begin wrapping a

disinfectant-soaked bandage around Jeff's shoulder. Turning his head, he spits the gauze out

along with a string of expletives. I finish the bandage, tying off the cloth in a tight knot. Sadie

produces a small flask which she must have gotten from the kitchen. She slides it in his good

hand and pats it once, in a gentle manner.

"I thought you might want this," she mumbles with a wicked smile. Jeff raises his

eyebrows, but takes the liquor and drinks it all in one swift swig, placing the empty container

back in Sadie's hand.

"Thanks. Nice job, girls. Good to see you can work together after all," he comments,

donning his shirt. Lying down, he continues, "I'll spend the night here. Go to bed now, I'll be

alright." I glance at Sadie, and stand up to leave. She bends down and carefully covers Jeff with

his jacket before walking toward the stairs. Once she reaches them she looks back to Jeff, who

has closed his eyes, evidently trying to catch up on his sleep. She stands there for a few long

lingering seconds before starting up the steps with me. Once we get halfway up them, Sadie

looks at me and whispers.

"What happened, Kaitlyn? How come you didn't wake me?"

"I saw lights, and figured out that there were six intruders in the yard. I went to tell Jeff,

but he already knew. He said not to wake you, so I didn't and went out to help him." Images of

the men I just killed flashes before me and I shake my head to dispel the illusion. "Jeff tried to

talk with them, and got shot in the fighting." Sadie nods once in an understanding gesture and

looks to me one last time. She seems to look at me up and down, but before I can ask what

she's doing, she curls her faded dyed hair behind one ear and turns to walk into her room.

"Goodnight Kaitlyn," she whispers softly and then her door shuts.

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I stand there on the landing, not knowing what to do, but knowing that I can't sleep. Not

after what happened only moments ago. When I close my eyes, images of the bullet popping

out of Jeff's skin dance across my vision and the sickening sound replays in my ears. When I

think of falling asleep, I imagine the men I shot, how ​easy​ it was for me to pull the trigger. ​How

could I do that to someone? How could I let myself squeeze the trigger? ​I quietly slip away to

my room and softly close the door. That's when I lose it. My eyes fill with tears and they stream

down my face like a silent river, yet I'm not making any noise, no sobbing. It's as if I am leaking,

as if I finally cracked. ​Could the death of those by my hand, could they have been my breaking

point?​ ​Could I have finally cracked?​ There is no rest for me for the remainder of the night.

I rise out of bed with the sun, hurrying down the stairs and into the living room. The

house is quiet, and Jeff's motionless form lays in repose on the couch. My hand rests on the

door knob to the dining room when his voice sounds from behind me.

"You're up early." I turn with a quiet sigh. ​So much for escaping without notice.​ He is still

lying on the couch, eyes closed, and yet he somehow knows it's me.

"Yeah...I couldn't sleep," I respond a bit uneasily. "How's your shoulder? Better?

Worse?"

"Hurts like the devil," comes the matter-of-fact reply, and then "Y'all will be moving out

this morning." I stare at him for a moment and then he sits up, swinging his feet down onto the

hardwood.

"Danny's getting restless. It'll be best if you leave today." So, he has noticed my

boyfriend's recent uneasiness. I begin to wonder just what could hide from MacLennen as he

seems to catch all.

"Ok. Can I help you with breakfast?" I ask, turning back toward the door

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"Sure can," the reply is fast, but pleasant as he adds "you can make it all by your

lonesome." With that, he lies back down on the couch again. I shake my head slowly, trying not

to crack a small smile and head into the kitchen. A bewildering array of cupboards and shelves

greet me, but I soon find a disintegrating bag of greens in the icebox, and some slightly withered

apples. I add a few slices of bread to the platter. ​At least I won't have to worry about what I'm

eating today.​ I hear the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and Danny and Sadie file into the

dining room, silently seating themselves. I place my continental breakfast on the table just as

Jeff enters into the room as well. Danny, Sadie, and I are filling our plates contentedly, ready for

a slightly normal meal, but he sits down with a sardonic grin on his face, surveying my creation.

"Where's the ​food?​" he inquired quietly. Sadie snorts through a mouthful of apple, and I

can't stop a grin from stealing over my face. Jeff fills his plate, and stares at it with distaste for a

moment before gulping his breakfast down in about forty-five seconds. As we finish our meal,

Jeff informs the others of our approaching departure. Danny looks a little relieved, as Sadie

says nothing, just munching down on her breakfast, seemingly lost in thought. We leave to our

various rooms in silence, and as I pack my gear I reflect on the anomaly that is Jeff MacLennen,

and his watch over the estate. We reunite in the living room. Jeff is wearing the same leather

jacket from when we first met, along with a pair of khaki pants. He hands me my revolver back,

and leads us down into the tunnel beneath his home. There is no conversation as we progress,

and the silence weighs down on me. ​Is Jeff angry? Or maybe depressed? I hope Danny isn't too

annoyed. ​S

adie squeals suddenly, derailing my train of thought, breaking the silence that I have

gotten used to living in .

"LOOK! Guys! That's me! Sadie Marks!" There on the wall is a new portrait, painted in

vivid color. Sadie is nestled in the crook of a towering tree, staring up into the night sky. Her hair

matched the vibrant night sky, and a full moon sent light flashing down, reflecting off her long

tresses.

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"You like it, then," Jeff whispers, his face blank. His eyes tell a different story, however,

a tear forming in the blue crystal depths.

"I love it!" Sadie crows, and turning to him, she stands up on her tip-toes and kisses

MacLennen on the cheek. Then, she shrinks back a little, looking slightly ashamed of herself

with a blush forming on her cheeks. Jeff just grins, then motions for us to keep going, turning

again toward the end of the tunnel. Sadie's steps increase in length, and I can hear her

humming a little tune as we ascend the final steps. The chilly morning air greets us as we step

out into the grounds, quickly traversing the field toward the gate. I try not to look at the mangled

corpses lying on the ground, and Danny squeezes my shoulder as we pass. Pulling the bolt

back with a screech, Jeff flings open the gate, glancing left and right to ascertain the situation.

"All clear. Goodbye Danny, goodbye Sadie, goodbye Little One. I'll be around if you

need help," he smiles down on each of us in turn.

"Thanks Jeff. We never would have made it without your help," Danny says, and

proffers his hand. Jeff shakes it, and Danny strides out into the woods, leading us out. As Sadie

passes, she salutes Jeff, trying to redeem herself for the kiss only a few minutes earlier. I wait

by Jeff for a second as the others slowly pick a way through the woods. I look up at him and he

smiles slightly as I hug him again. I let go and walk away, without looking back, knowing that I'll

cry if I do.

"Hey. You kids got a plan?" Jeff asks.

"Not really," Danny admits, turning around.

"Your things are still back by the stream. You should grab them, and try to find a group to

stay with. Safety in numbers."

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"Will do, thanks!" Danny calls over his shoulder, and we start off again, retracing our

steps towards our old camp. I don't realize the distance from here to there, but fear must have

given wings to our feet for it is almost midday when we arrive back at our original camp site, the

tents still half ways up.

"Sure enough, here's our gear. And not much worse for the wear," Danny comments.

"I guess we're lucky no one stole it," Sadie answers, bending down to disassemble her

tent.

"A fair point," Danny acknowledges with a smile, and bends to help me with my tent.

"Thanks, Danny," I smile at him, then voice some of my more concerning thoughts, "I

hope we can find a group soon, or the going might get rough."

"We'll be alright Kaitlyn. We've made it this far, haven't we?" Danny says, folding up my

tent.

"I suppose," I answer, a trifle doubtful, and stuff the rolled tent into its bag.

"Cheer up, sweetheart. It'll turn out alright," Danny assures, gently running his thumb

over my cheek before turning to strike his own tent. I strap my portable dwelling onto my

backpack, and rise slowly, watching Danny take down his small tent by himself. Sadie is

standing a ways away, anxious to be off again. I hesitantly make my way over to her. ​I wonder

how she's feeling...Should I even bother to ask? ​In the end, I decide to just stand there by her,

watching as Danny hefts his pack and walks over to us. Sadie looks into the woods and Danny

takes this moment of confidentiality to nuzzle my cheek.

"All set? Let's be off, then. Plenty of ground to cover," Danny says, and once again we

troop off through the brush.

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"Where are we going?" Sadie mumbles to me as we walk.

"I have no clue, but I guess Danny does," I respond, and Sadie nods, then begins her

normal boredom pastime of muttering and mumbling under her breath. We make good time, and

as the evening wears on, we near the heart of the forest, or at least what I think is the heart of

the forest.

"Well, what do you guys think? Make camp?" Danny inquires, turning to us.

"Sounds good to me. Do you think we could have a fire?" I ask plaintively. Danny looks

at me for a second before deciding that I can have a tiny luxury in this Godforsaken state.

"A small one. See if you can find some kindling," Danny says, and I happily scurry

around the forest floor, finding leaves and twigs. When I return, the tents are already set up, and

Sadie is rummaging to find tonights MREs. Using a disposable lighter, I light our fire and nurse it

to health, which doesn't take as long as I thought it would.

"Chicken noodle soup tonight," Sadie quietly announces, getting comfortable on a log.

She fills a pot with water and dump the MREs in.

"Yummy," I say sarcastically. ​I wonder what we could have had if we stayed with

Jeff...likely more raccoon, or something hideous. ​W

e eat and discuss our plans, finally settling

on a zig-zag course until we find friendly survivors. As the stars begin to come out, we gaze up

at them as Sadie mumbles about constellations, nebulas, galaxies, anything and everything

about the night sky. Somehow, I am comforted by this mumbling and I snuggle down into

Danny's arms as he strokes my hair. After a while, Danny and I turn in to our respective tents,

leaving Sadie to keep watch for a few hours. We burrowed into our sleeping bags, happy that

we had established a plan. A plan that might last longer than Jeff's place did.

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Sadie wakes me next to keep watch and I lean against a tree. I let my mind drift, a

flashback fading in against my dark surroundings.

Ducking in the front door, I sneak with practiced ease through the back of

the living room. The television is on like always, and "The Old Man", my father, is

parked in his chair in front of it, staring at the screen. I don't care what he was

watching; my focus is on him not noticing me. In the kitchen, I can hear Mother

yelling at one or more of my siblings. I smile as the insults fly from her mouth at

someone who isn't me. Through the living room, my next task is to get through the

kitchen to my room upstairs. I stand a moment, taking a deep breath. There is no

sneaking through this one, I can only go confidently and hope that Mother is too

distracted to get on me. Straightening up, I enter the kitchen at a brisk pace.

There she is, scolding one of my little brothers, finger waving and arm

gesticulating.

"Kaitlyn!" I halt my progress; I've been caught. I look up just in time to see my

little brother scamper off; Mother's focus now completely on me. There is no

escape now, I'll just have to endure the tirade that's a seemingly everyday basis.

"What now?" I huff, knowing that she can choose a number of things on a

growing list to be mad about.

"Don't take that tone with me, young lady. We talked last week about your

schoolwork, and it seems you didn't hear a word of it. Your teacher called, and I

heard all about your habits in class. When will you grow up, Kaitlyn?!"

It's that same, exasperated, sick-of-you tone that I hear every day. Without

responding, I cross the rest of the kitchen.

"Don't turn your back on me, I'm not done talking to you." The words mean

nothing to me, and I turn anyway, preparing to climb the stairs. The oven timer

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goes off, and Mother hollers into the living room "Dinner, Toby!". Turning to me,

she hisses, "Get to the table, we'll talk about this later."

I roll my eyes and slink to the dining room table, quietly taking my seat.

"I'll be in there after this game," He hollers back. I watch in slight amusement

as my mother stomps into the living room. A silent countdown of the havoc we call

dinner in this house. I hit ten when the TV stops making noise and nine when he

starts yelling. Seven when the volume increases and 5 when the six "monsters"

start running in and four when the only 2 of "they" in the house stroll in on their

cellphones. Three, two, one. Everyone is sitting at the table, hustling and bustling

about everything. The six younger kids, two older kids, both my parents, and I

sitting around the table makes it look like Thanksgiving all year around. I

remember how there used to be even less room at this huge table when the other

four older kids were still at home. I keep my eyes on my plate as dinner, a couple

tins of lasagna, is wordlessly distributed. We partake in relative silence as is the

custom, my siblings quietly quibbling between themselves, my dad vaguely

arguing with mother in between bites of food and a discussion about sports with

my still at home older brother. After a few bites I become thoroughly

disenchanted with the mess on my plate, as my stomach revolts at the thick and

nasty sauce from a jar; I want to spit it back up. Pushing the lasagna around a bit

to make it seem as if I've eaten a bit more, I sit there, waiting for someone else to

get up first. Minutes pass by and no one gets up. I glance up at the time, seeing

that I've been here for ten minutes, that's eleven more minutes than I wanted. My

mother clears her throat, and everyone looks up at her, besides my dad. I don't

raise my head, but instead glare at her through my eyebrows. She elbows my

father and he looks up at her as she whispers something in his ear. He rolls his

eyes and puts his fork down.

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"Anyone who has good grades and does their chores will be rewarded with

ice cream today, but only if you finish your food," This is aimed at me, trying to

bribe me to get better grades. Everyone else cheers, even the ones with less than

good grades because only the one getting punished is the one not going. I can

feel my mother's glaring eyes on me as I silently excuse myself, taking my still full

plate to the kitchen. Depositing the mess in the garbage, I quickly scurry up to my

bedroom, where I know I would spend the rest of dinner time catching snatches of

angry conversations and bickering children.

An odd howling sound jerks me from my slumber. ​Coyotes? No, too... loud, primal, not...

It wasn't a wolf, it couldn't have been. Did Danny hear it too? Or am I just insane now?​ I creep

over to Danny's tent, starting to doubt myself as the howling scream sounds again, much closer

this time. I whirl about, attempting to hear the noise better as the woods about me seems to

close in, pressing in on me, squeezing the air from my lungs; the fact that it's night doesn't help

either.

"Danny!" My voice, an intense whisper, as I try to wake the sleeping boy, "Danny, I just

heard something howl."

Despite the fact that he had been sleeping only a few seconds before, Danny seems

oddly alert as he grasps his rifle, glancing over at Sadie's tent. "Where did it come from?"

"Over by that oak. I think it could be a zombie." I cling to his arm for moral support.

"If it is a zombie, why didn't you go kill it?" I look at him wide-eyed, mouth tightly

squeezed shut in fear, ready to open and explain myself when I notice him smiling at me. "I

know, it's okay, let's go have a look."

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He strides toward the oak tree, with me in tow, his footsteps carefully placed as he

soundlessly traverses through the dense foliage. It's hard to walk through, much less see, as

our dying campfire cast a flickering glow on the surrounding forest, but not enough to

comfortably see by. Danny stops at the edge of the clearing, peering into the darkness. A harsh

rustle sounds to our immediate left, too close for comfort. We reel in unison, almost falling over

each other. I feel myself quivering. I hate the nighttime and I'm scared of the dark; the addition

of flesh-eating creatures in the night does nothing to relieve that fear. Danny takes a deep

breath and a tentative step forward then another. I stand, frozen as time seems to slow,

everything so quiet that it's loud, all I can hear is my pounding heart. The muzzle of his rifle

brushes the leaves out of the way to look at where the noise came from. He recoils, his face a

mask of disgust, then strides over to me briskly. He stands for a second, his eyes locked with

mine. It's too dark to read them. Speaking in a shaking whisper, he does nothing to comfort my

imaginations.

"It's a dead body." I let out my pent up breath, about to brush it off as not important when

he finishes his fateful sentence. "And it's fresh."

My eyes widen, the newly released breath is sucked back into my lungs. "But zombies

don't kill that fast. And they can't drag a dead thing for that long. And they're so much louder.

What do you mean, 'it's fresh'?" My voice raises in pitch to where he cups a hand over my

mouth, silencing me as Sadie appears, her eyes as wide as mine. I notice her shotgun in her

hand. Apparently, she had woken up when Danny started moving around and was listening in

on our conversation.

"IT'S FRESH?!" she screams, her voice echoing around the small glade where we are

camped. Danny's breath comes out in a hiss.

"We need to leave. NOW." The words barely fall silent in the air when another noise

sounds. Sadie racks her shotgun as Danny raises his ready rifle, turning and aiming at the

disturbance in the leaves. What emerges, none of us expect. Sleek, black, slimy skin, and a

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rounded head, a huge, yellowed toothy mouth practically covering its face in a crescent size. It

creeps on its four bone-thin legs into the glade like a graceful spider. I take a few seconds too

long to realize that the smelly fluid dripping from its distorted mouth isn't only drool, it's also

ruby red fresh blood. Pushing itself up onto its hind legs, it screeches at the sky, like a wolf

howling at a full moon. Danny, recovering from his initial shock, fires his rifle into its chest twice.

The screech intensifies as the thing, flails and falls backward into the brush. Sadie laughs

defiantly, the sound mingling with the screams of the monster.

"Nice try, mucus-face!" she all but shouts, pompous and headstrong although she has

not fired a single bullet.

It rolls over, turning to face us again. This time it charges without preamble. Sadie dives,

rolling out of the way. Danny levels the rifle, firing again, but the shot seems to be absorbed into

the glistening skin. Sadie fires her shotgun and the same thing happens. The thing rears the

split second before it reaches us, swiping with one bony leg, sending Danny flying into the

undergrowth. I, not so lucky, connect with a tree, the wind driven from my chest. My vision blurs

and another shot is heard from the shotgun. My eyes refocus as the creature jumps on Sadie,

mauling her, her shrieks of pain and ​"I HATE YOU!" ​filling my ears. Another gunshot sounds,

this time from Danny's rifle, and the thing turns its attention once again to Danny. Suddenly, my

world goes black, as a strange figure plants his forearm against my chest, pinning me to the

tree, my head slamming into it again. My vision clears just enough to see dexterous hands

grasp at the 38. special I'm forced to carry for guard duty, pulling it from its sheath. The man

immediately twists, firing repeatedly at the shape which Danny is expertly battling, avoiding the

attempted blows. The creature wheels around and leaps across the glen to engage the stranger

who has now emptied my revolver and is drawing a hand-and-a-half sword. ​He's insane​, my

mind flutters, attempting to identify the person. ​There is no way a single man can hold off ​that

with a sword! ​T

he creature lunges, and the man parries, turning its dreadful maw away. It

swings with its legs, connecting with his chest, sending him skittering. The stranger leaps up

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from his prone position, and charges. I squeeze my eyes close, not bearing to look, then

opening them for curiosity's sake. At the last minute before the two figures connect, the man

slides, as if he was a baseball player approaching home plate. Diving under the sweeping arms

and slashing at the spindly legs, I watch as he also drives the sword into the abdomen of the

creature. He must have done some serious damage, because the creature, rather than spin

about, falls limp. The man leaps upon the thing's back, as it struggles to rise, he drives the

sword deep into its skull. The creature collapses, and the stranger, unperturbed, wrenches the

sword from its head and dismounts. His sword is covered in a tie-dye of black, blue, and clear,

the colors of blood, stomach, and brain of the hideous creature.

"So how was your first encounter with the Demon-class zombie?" He asks, almost

conversationally. Almost standing through this all, I now slide down to the ground, crying from

the overwhelming fear, my body racked with trembles that radiate from my very soul. Danny

rushes over to hug me, holding my sobbing head to his chest, calming my quaking body, and

shushing me gently.

"You need to shut her up, she'll only attract more," His uncaring voice cuts through the

air. A groan comes from Sadie and all of our eyes shoot towards her, the man lunging over. He

looks at her wounds for a few seconds before reaching for her revolver. I push Danny off and

race to her as he stands up and aims it at her head.

"She's a goner, she'll end up infecting the entire clan," He says offhandedly as I

approach. I stand in front of him, protecting Sadie like a guard dog. Seeing him clearly for the

first time, I see that he isn't a man, but much more of just a teenage boy. He has dark brown

hair that's bordering black, and deep, serious green eyes. He is also about a foot taller than me,

which is pretty intimidating.

"Wait, clan? Meaning, there's more people? Like, alive people?" Danny speaks up,

watching this all worriedly.

"Move, girl,"

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"No, she doesn't deserve to die in the woods,"

"Move, now,"

"No, she's coming with us,"

"Then I'll kill you too," He brings the gun up to my forehead. The intensity in my eyes

says "Do it," just like I have said many times to family and bullies before the apocalypse.

Suddenly, a friendly neighborhood Jeff appears at the edge of the clearing, wearing his

mask again, and carrying an axe. Jeff is standing tall, confident, and bold.

"Pull that trigger, son, and you're a dead man," emanates from behind the mask in a

threatening growl. The stranger hesitates, confusion and panic briefly flitting across his face, "It

takes a long, long time to die from a stomach wound... Maybe you'll still be alive when they start

shredding up your intestines," Jeff continues, striding forward. He reaches the stranger, and

posies the axe. "So, make your choice. Give her the gun, or take the axe." The stranger slowly

hands me the revolver, his eyes never leaving the grinning visage depicted on MacLennen's

mask.

"I'll take her." The mask tilts down, smiling at the bloody mess. "I can heal her back up

and she'll be secluded from the others so no one catches anything." Jeff kneels down for a

second, probably to analyze her situation.

By now, Danny has fetched Sadie's blanket and our eyes meet as he hands it to me. I

don't even wait for an answer as I lean down to Sadie, whose eyes have almost glazed over.

Though that should be a sure sign that she is dying, her breath was steady so I didn't lose hope.

I create a tourniquet for her right leg, upper thigh, and her badly mauled right arm with strips of

the blanket, pressing the rest of her blanket on the wounds on her chest to get them to stop

bleeding. Luckily the wounds on her chest are little compared to her gushing arm. She moans

softly and clenches her teeth together tightly. Jeff slides the axe into his belt, and hefts Sadie's

motionless form into his arms, wrapping her up in the blanket.

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"Take them to your group, son," Jeff pauses to look into the stranger's eyes with the

chilling mask, "And behave yourself, I'm never far." And he turns away, scooping up Sadie's

backpack before sprinting noiselessly into the dark, without even a glance back, nor a goodbye.

"Alright, let's go. We have quite a ways to travel. Before we start, my name's Jasen. I

work as a scout for a group of survivors." He shows no remorse over what he had almost done,

his face is perfectly calm. A thick white scar is displayed on his neck, illuminated by the dying

campfire. His face is youthful; he couldn't be any older than us. While I'm sizing the boy up, my

eyes burning into his, Danny grabs our backpacks, heaving his own on, handing me mine.

Without warning, Jasen turns, trudging off into the undergrowth, beckoning for us to follow and I

slip my backpack on. Danny scoops my hand in his and pulls me along, knowing that I'm not

quick to trust and that I won't follow on my own. After only a few feet, I start to whine. Danny

turns towards me, looking at me worriedly. Jasen stolidly ignores me.

"Babe, I know you don't trust him, but-" Danny whispers into my ear through my hair.

"It's not that, it's... My stomach hurts," I give Danny a pleading look and he rolls his eyes

with a slight smile. He hoists me into his arms and holds me close as he continues to follow

Jasen through the woods. After a little bit, I hear him start to breathe heavily and sweat way

more than normal. I start to feel bad and gently tell him that he can set me down. I wish I could

lie and say it didn't worry me but it does. I glance at his face as he stares straight ahead, eyes

darting back and forth, checking for any other noises or signs of movement.

Jasen says that it will take us two days to reach his "clan". Talk is limited, a few

whispered sentences back and forth between the small group. Jasen is congenial to a point, not

revealing much about himself, but being polite and at least seemingly interested in what we say.

We leave the forest at the end of day one, and start trekking along an abandoned highway. Late

in the afternoon on the second day, we approach a small city.

. "We've fortified a small part of the town to stay in. I'll take you there," Jasen tells us as

we sneak down a sidestreet. "Watch out, though, there are still plenty of zombies around."

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"We'll be careful," Danny whispers as a glass bottle hits the pavement and shatters a few

streets down in the painfully quiet, but threatening air.

"You'll likely be dead. But we try not to think about it," Jasen responds bitterly, ending the

conversation. He glances back at us, his eyes again locking with mine before tiptoeing on. The

sun begins to set and the fatigue of the long walk without breaks nor naps starts to sit in. We

approach a huge skyscraper surrounded by crumbling and decrepit concrete buildings, char

marks and blood on many of them. A barbed wire fence is stretched around it, with a padlocked

chain link gate being the only way in. Jasen pulls a walkie-talkie from his belt and flips it on,

sliding the antenna out.

"Jasen here. I found two more survivors. I'm at the gate."

"Fine, fine! I'll send someone down to unlock it," an irritated voice crackles through the

radio, and the line goes dead. He tucks the walkie talkie back in it's hidden spot on it's belt,

pulling his shirt back down over it, but not before I catch a glimpse of the abs he hides. His eyes

shoot to my curious ones and he turns towards us, making me cower slightly.

"Watch your step. Order is enforced here, but nothing is investigated too closely. Try not

to offend anyone, or you may have seen your last sunset," Jasen warns, his eyes leaving mine

and go to Danny's. Danny nods once, pulling me closer to him, obviously feeling threatened by

how much Jasen looks at me, "Don't trust anyone and no one is likely to trust you. Fear runs

deep with this crowd,"

"Fear runs deep with every crowd. It's the end of the world," My snappy and annoyed

comment comes just as a figure emerges from the tower, trotting to the gate. As the figure

approaches we see that it happens to be a rather scrawny and greasy, bearded man with brown

hair and darting eyes.

"How's it look out there?" he inquires as he unlocks the gate, not looking at Danny nor I,

but even less at Jasen, as if he's both terrified and jealous.

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"Same as always, zombies everywhere," Jasen replies, ushering us through the gate

and down the path, toward the building. The padlock clicks behind us and I glance up at Danny,

his eyes looking slightly bloodshot. ​This is it, locked in, no reasonable and quick escape

anymore.

"Welcome to your new home," Jasen tells us, a smug smile stuck in his voice, making

him seem like a realtor who hides a dark secret about the house they just sold. "Issac will want

to meet you, so follow my lead. Lucky for you, Dalton's not home."

"What do you mean by that?" I ask, thinking it's some couple or a shared governing role

between the two men.

"Issac has Dissociative Identity Disorder. He's normally kind and polite, but if he's in a

swing, he becomes Dalton: really nasty and mean. Opposite of Issac, ironically enough." Jasen

explains quietly as we climbs a seemingly endless flight of stairs. We step out on a huge

landing, facing a massive glass window overlooking the city, as deranged as it looks at the

moment. The floor is concrete, spattered with blood, debris, and miscellaneous objects. A sign

on the stairwell proclaims this the 20th floor. A door is on the far wall, marked​ "Issac: knock

before entering." ​Leading us over, Jasen knocks loudly. I hold my breath, Danny's grip on my

shoulder tightening before letting it go.

"Come in, come come!" commands a cheery-sounding voice from inside. Jasen turns the

doorknob, and I clutch Danny's hand, suddenly overcome by nervousness and fear. The room

that opens up had once been an office, keeping the look by retaining the desk, swivel chair, and

file cabinets. In the corner behind the desk, a cot had been placed along with a refrigerator in

the other corner beside the file cabinets. Sitting behind the desk is a calm face with a grayish

skin tone. I get a sense of royalty about him as his eyes rake over us newcomers, attempting to

see our strengths, pick out our weaknesses. His eyes rest on our intertwined hands and a slight

smile lifts the corners of his lips. I notice the nice dress clothes, not a stain on his shirt, as if he

is a lawyer meeting us about a CPS case. It's obvious that he's trying to look friendly, but still

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authoritative, like a police officer. His already narrow eyes squint even further at me as he

realizes that I am scrutinizing him as he is us. I open my eyes into a wider and more innocent

look, slightly rocking back and forth on my feet. His eyes drift from us and over to Jasen in a

casual way.

"You've told them my name, I assume?" His calm and arrogant tone has that undeniable

sense of authority to it. I take a deep breath and Danny squeezes my hand slightly, warning me

to behave myself. I let my breath out slowly, staring at Issac, ready for him to address me.

Jasen's face contorts into a half-grin that isn't completely sincere.

"It'd be a bit awkward if I hadn't, though I hate introductions," Jasen says emotionless,

not giving anything up on his thoughts of the situation. Danny senses the upcoming attitude

from me and decides to take the lead.

"I'm Danny and this here is Kaitlyn," he squeezes my hand again, "Say hi," His tone is

forced, but obviously meaning to be polite. I look up at him, a fiery glint in my eyes; I look back

at Issac, his black colored eyes burning into mine.

"Are you Japanese or Chinese?" My question blurts out, unable to control myself, going

for the most toned down thing I can muster. Danny's hand clenches hard, making some of my

knuckles crack, making me clench my teeth in pain. Issac chuckles slightly.

"Chinese, dear." His short, black hair is spiked straight up and as he stands, I realize that

he's not much taller than I am. And he appears to be only somewhere in his early twenties.

Awfully young to be a leader of an entire clan, how does he do it? Does he use fear to control

them? Is it easy?​ He smiles with shining white teeth and reaches out to shake our hands. Danny

offers his, but doesn't try to make me extend mine, so I don't. As he lets go of Danny's hand, a

small sparkle flashes in Issac's eye and I step behind Danny a little, trying not to show too much

fear. He knows more than he is willing to tell, "Okay, Jasen, go show them around,"

A heavy sigh erupts from Jasen, who turns and, with a small wave of his hand, begins to

exit the room. We leave the room and he shuts the door behind us, making sure that it clicks

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into place. He starts to climb back down the stairs and Danny looks at me before following. As

we fall in line behind him, Jasen turns, a deadly seriousness in his face.

"Never go in there by yourself or without a good reason. That man is as likely to shake

your hand as he is to kill you."

"I'll keep that in mind," I reply, and Jasen nods. We are led to an open room with tables

along three walls where a few people are enjoying a midnight snack and playing chess. Even at

this time of night, people start to trickle in, finding seats at the tables, watching us as we watch

them. Adults, children, men, women, all different ages, genders and races of people come

together to meet the newcomers. Some whisper back and forth, some angry, some tearing up. I

look at Danny confused, then turn my head in the direction of Jasen, but he is no longer beside

us. Instead, he is sitting on the table top across the room with his feet spread apart on the

bench in front of him. His eyes burning deeply into mine, threatening me, killing me in his mind.

It now seems less like an inviting group of survivors and more like Danny and I are competitors

in the Coliseum, ready to face a voracious beast. His hand getting slick in my grasp as I clutch it

tighter. The smirk on Jasen's face confirms that something big is about to happen. The benches

are filling, people now sitting on table tops for more room. I watch as Issac comes in and the

lights flicker. The already dim lights seem to get dimmer with every step Issac takes towards us.

"So, word going around says you caused this whole thing" Issac growls lowly. Something

about him doesn't seem the same, he seems evil, rigid, and even hostile. He circles us, as the

pack of survivors are quietly watching us like wild animals.

"How would you know?" I jut my chin out, showing defiance, showing that I'm not scared,

but on the inside, I'm terrified. An evil laugh escapes his throat and the hairs on my arm prick up

as goosebumps snake down my arms. I watch as a boy steps forward, slowly coming towards

me. He looks familiar, someone who I've seen almost everyday in science class for a year, the

boy who helped me commit a crime, "Ashton? What the- how- why are you here?"

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"Hey Kaitlyn," Those two words from Ashton tell me so much. I look at Issac, now Dalton,

fearfully.

"Ash here tells me you started the zombie spread." Dalton whispers, getting in my face. I

back up, Danny staying put, watching silently, his eyes never leave Dalton's body. Dalton

moves forward, slowly swaying side to side like a cobra. My back hits the wall and fear finally

enters my eyes, "My family died because of you, I watched my sister and girlfriend die. My

father, my cousin, his new husband, I watched them die, I tell you!" He slams his hands into the

wall beside my head, I quiver on impact. His voice growls at me in contempt, "I should kill you

now."

"Stop!" Danny's voice cuts through the air. Dalton turns around to face him. Everyone's

eyes are on Danny, "Can't you see you're scaring her? Yeah, she messed up, she made a

mistake. Everyone does. Look, I'm sorry about what you lost, but don't you think she lives with

the guilt everyday? She watched her life crumble along with everyone else she knows. She

knows what she did and she can't change it. If she could, believe me, she would. Just, chill out

a little on her, she's terrified. Anymore and you'll be cleaning up a mess," Dalton turns back to

me, a cruel smile on his face. I press myself against the wall, trying to sink into the concrete

blocks. My legs tremble, threatening to give out.

"Now, now. You're about to let those teenage hormones get you into a world of trouble,"

pronounces a familiar deep voice. Dalton turns around and his face contorts into an expression

of mixed anger and fear.

"Who let you in!? WHO LET HIM IN?!"

"I let myself in," Jeff responds menacingly, stepping forward. Apparently, he has quite

an arsenal back at the MacLennen estate, since he is holding a DP-12 shotgun, its two barrels

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leveled at the surrounding crowd. I crane my neck around Dalton to see Jeff better; he is still

wearing his mask, and dressed in a dark hoodie and blue jeans.

"This party's over," Jeff announces to the room, and then to Dalton, "The men you sent

to kill me are dead. Perhaps you'd like to try again, and force me to kill you? That would pain me

greatly, but somehow... I think I could do it." He says the last part slowly, threateningly, and filled

with a poisonous edge. The crowd slowly begins to disperse, and muttered conversations fill the

air.

"Jeff! You're here!" The words escape Ashton before he could stop them.

"Hello Ashton. Taking care of yourself, I see. Quite a crowd you fell in with," Jeff

comments, covering Dalton with the DP. Jeff walks closer to us. The little man is in a quandary,

evidently unsure whether to run, fight, or stand and wait.​ "Scat, D

​ alton, before I change my mind

and blow your scrawny Asian head off." With a muttered curse, the little man does as he is told.

Turning to me and lowering the shotgun, Jeff says, "You have a knack for getting into trouble,

don't you Little One? And before you ask, yes, Sadie's fine at the moment."

"You could say that. Good to hear.��� I hear myself say, knees still knocking a bit. Thoughfeel as though I am going to pass out, my voice sounds perfectly fine.

"Sadie? Who's that?" Ashton asks, looking at Jeff and I.

I

"It's about time we catch up Ashton." I say, walking his way. As I look at him, I notice that his

hair has gotten longer and more unruly. His eyes are darker, holding less light and he seems

skinnier, if that was even possible. His clothes are filthy, and it reminds me of Danny. I look back

at my boyfriend who is eyeing Ashton jealously.

101

"First, I'll get you rooms." Jasen appears from the corner of the room, motioning for us to

follow him out. He seems completely unfazed by what just went down. On the way to our

quarters, I fill Ashton in on some of the things that had been happening since we parted ways.

"Here. Rooms 131 and 132. Far away from Issac," Jasen points to the rooms as we step

onto the 14th floor.

"Thanks for your help," Danny says. I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic, or not. Jasen

just nods, and strolls away up the stairs.

"I'd better go, Sadie will be needing me. Nice to see you again, Ashton. Stay safe,

Danny, and keep Kaitlyn out of trouble."

"I've been trying. You see how well that worked." Danny smiles.

"We'll catch up later, huh?" Ashton asks Jeff.

"Not much to tell. Looked after this crew for a while, still looking after one of them. I got

shot. Other than that, life as usual. Take care of yourself, Ashton." Then with a grin, "Don't do

anything I wouldn't do." Ashton looks as though he wants to question Jeff more, or just talk to

him in general, but he doesn't. Ashton smiles back, nodding his head. Then, surprisingly, he

wraps his arms around MacLennen in a tight embrace. Jeff grunts as Ashton's shoulder digs

into his wound, but he doesn't pull back. Releasing his hold, Ashton steps back and executes a

little salute. Jeff responds in kind, then slinks down the stairs, out of view. I stare after him for a

moment. ​Just when you think you know someone... ​I turn back to Ashton.

"I'm glad to see you're safe." I say, with a small smile.

"More or le-less so.​ ​Watch your b-backs around here, people turn n-nasty in a hurry."

Ashton laughs, but it's more of an awkward laugh.

102

"So we've noticed," Danny comments, inserting himself into the conversation.

"It's late, I'd b-bett-tter run. See you later, Kaitlyn. We'll c-ca-catch up tomorrow?"

Ashton says, and sprints away before I can answer his question. I look at Danny for a while,

unsure of what to say.

"Hey. Hey kids. Come 'ere," echoes out from a nearby doorway.

"No thanks, we're good," Danny replies, stepping in front of me.

"I won't hurt you," issues the wheedling voice, "I just want some information. You know

the Reaper? I've heard whispers."

"Who?" I ask, confused. Danny glances back at me, telling me not to talk to strangers

with his eyes.

"The Reaper! Old smiley face, who saved you," the voice sounds exasperated.

"Ok, what about him?" Danny asks, gently pushing me towards my door.

"I need a favor from him. Would you ask him to come see me?"

"Sure, but I doubt he'll come for a stranger in room 135," Danny answered.

"Just ask, alright? Thanks." The door slams shut, ending the mysterious conversation.

"Well...That was odd. I'm beginning to wonder if Issac isn't the only crack case here," I

say, glancing all around.

"Get some rest, Kaitlyn. And be sure to ​lock​ your door," Danny says, pushing me to my

door. He waiting until I'm in my room before entering his own room, closing the door behind him.

A clicking sound from within tells me he had followed his own advice. I quickly shut and lock the

103

door. The interior is like a prison cell, with a single dim light overhead, a cot in the corner, and a

bucket. I switch off the light and gingerly lay down on the cot, wondering how many people had

used it before me. Sleep does not come easily, and I toss and turn nervously for hours before

finally succumbing to a light slumber.

I slowly awaken to the realization that breakfast would not be provided.​ Maybe if we had

stayed at Jeff's we would have... No matter, we left didn't we? Now we have to stay here, and

get some answers, at the very least. Ashton said we would talk, but he didn't say where, when,

or how we would meet up... Ugh, there is a prime example of my planning skills. ​As I'm lost in

my thoughts, I sit up and sling my legs over the side of the cot and rub my eyes. I look down to

my fingers and start to wonder how Ashton got here, how long he's been here, and a hundred

other thoughts. I get off of the cot with a groan and step to the door, hoping that Danny is

already up. When I open the door, Ashton is standing there with his arm cocked, as if he were

about to knock on it.

"Well you h-have great timing K-Kaitlyn." he says, pulling his arm down.

"Yeah, I guess. What do you need?" I ask.

"I f-fi-figured you didn't know where my room was, so I was going to swing by t-to your

place and catch up with y-you here."

"Right, yeah." I step aside and let him in.

"I'm sorry about all that... I know that D-Dalton is a handful. Trust me, when I first came

here, it was a w-wh-whole lot different." Ashton stutters, stepping inside.

104

"I bet." Ashton starts to sense my negative tone and he rubs his neck awkwardly. He

takes a couple of steps closer to me and gives me a lopsided smile, one that I'm sure lots of

other girls liked, but not me. I want to smack it right off his face.

"Why did you tell them?" my voice is cold, in a scolding tone.

"They deserved to k-know."

"Did they?"

"Of course they d-did!" Ashton's tone rises to match mine.

"Why?" is my dumb reply, yet the question is very real.

""I was ri-rich! Living the life! Everything I wanted I-I had, well, almost all of it... But that's

not the point! I had not a c-ca-care in the world until you had to come asking for a request. We

should've just st-stayed home, Kaitlyn. We could've had the same th-th-thrill without all the

consequences if you were just asking to stay the night or something. And because of that, they

deserve to know just like u-us"

"You know you wanted to go with me. You ​know ​that you wanted to go in that lab. You

could've said no, but ​your​ stupid crush got in the way,"

"Yeah I had a c-crush on you, who wouldn't? That's not m-my point though. You asked,

so I provided and th-then we ruined everything! I was living t-the highlife and you could have

too, but no. You can never say no to a dare. N-n-no-now, everything isn't a game K-Kait-Kaitlyn.

Nothing is a stupid dare now because I helped you end o-our lives! Along with millions of

others!"

105

"Money doesn't mean anything anymore, the only thing that does is how good you are

with your weapon." My voice somehow gets colder, more threatening and edgy.

"Was that a-a threat, Kaitlyn?" He puffs out his small chest and steps closer to me, trying

to intimidate me.

"Not a threat, a promise, if you don't shut up and drop this conversation."

"You l-le-left me Kaitlyn, you left me to die. Do you have any idea w-what happened to

me while I was looking f-f-fo-for you?!"

"You told this clan what we did! What​ WE​ did!"

"Th-they deserve to know the truth. It's ​our​ fault that they saw their families get ripped

into h-hum-human confetti and their siblings cr-cry for help! It's our fault." Ashton points into his

chest roughly, as if emphasizing the fact that it was his fault too.

"You don't think I know that?! I live with that guilt every single day. Every single day I

wonder how a bullet would taste. Every single day I wonder how much blood would pour out of

my skin before everything goes black. I wonder if I should just feed myself to the zombies, so I

know the pain that others went through. Trust me Ashton, you have no idea." I blurt suddenly. I

fight the urge to apologize at my bluntness, but it doesn't seem to affect Ashton.

"Y-you don't think I feel those things too? My sister got ch-ch-chomped on like a chicken

leg Kaitlyn. My u-unborn nephew or niece d-dy-dying inside of her, with nothing I could do. Trust

me, I feel just as m-much guilt, my sister didn't deserve to die. Not like that... But thanks to me,

she d-did."

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