Two |

Mommy, when is Daddy getting home?"

I was a few months away from turning nine with no troubles in the world, but I remember this day – and every day after it. Mommy looked stressed. She had ordered me to stay inside – turning off all the house lights and checking the windows and door for the sixth time. But I wasn't worried, we practiced this lock down state twice a year ever since I was six.

"Erin Mira Brooks, this is the third time I am telling you to stay in the basement – do not make me say it one more time," Mommy ordered with a shaky voice.

"I just want to know when Daddy's coming home," I shouldn't have whined.

I knew that now. But now was always too late; present mistakes become future past taunting's.

After that there was only blood.

Red danced across my eyelids jolting me awake with a start. A cold sweat clung to my body as I realized I was developing a fever due to yesterday's rain. I couldn't afford to get sick, I needed to get dressed and get food into my body to boost my immune system. My body was entirely sore – every step was a creak of my stiff joints.

I pushed the door open and took a step into the living room. My eyes immediately locked on the furniture that I had piled in front of the window the night before – more as the lack of. I silently cursed for sleeping so deeply that I hadn't woken up to that.

Something moved behind me and my heels spun with my arms flying up. Too slow. The human figure stumbled into my body knocking me to the ground as a scream escaped my lips. His face was sunken in – half his jaw missing and stained with dried blood.

A low moan sprang from him as his distorted jaw worked to latch onto any of my skin and my fingers dug into the rotting, soft flesh of his shoulders. The pungent stench of shit and rotting flesh caught in my throat as I gagged. His nails scratched at my neck drawing lines of blood.

I pulled my knees up towards my chest – digging into the prodding hole between his ribs were his insides must have once fallen out. Then with all my might I pushed outwards causing the zom to stumble onto his back and off me.

I half pulled, half crawled towards my bag as fast as I could move. My body was growing weak and I could feel my head growing light. It would seem I was sicker then I thought. This wasn't good. His hand clamped around my foot and I cried out as his teeth brushed against my skin. I kicked my other foot out wildly as I searched my bag for my knife. My foot clipped the side of his head as my fingers wrapped around my gun as I fumbled to pull it out.

The front door banged, my eyes widened as black dots danced across my vision. More had come so soon? Another bang. It was becoming so hard to breathe. I turned and aimed with a spinning world. His head was so close to my foot. I jerked it back and squeezed the trigger. Behind me the door slammed open.

The world slowed down. The bullet hit with perfect aim – ripping through his left eye in a shower of eye chunks. Then I turned as the world started to fade around me. Three figures stood in the door as I raised my gun and squeezed the trigger just as my fingers grew numb unable to hold on any longer and my body fell forward.

The world faded faster than my head fell.

"Dad we have to move," I grunted shoving my knife into the head of an undead woman. She fell with my knife and I bent to tug it out. Gently, I wiped the blood off onto my shirt.

"Erin – don't get it on you," Dad scolded.

"Don't call me Erin," I retorted shoving the pads into my bag.

He sighed but nodded and walked off holding tightly onto his bat. I watched him limp slightly away and my teeth dug into my bottom lip. It wasn't getting better and it should have by now. If something happened to him I don't know what I'd do.

Tears pricked in my eyes and I forced a laugh. As if something would ever happen to him. He'd never die, he was my dad.

"Mira get moving; we've been in town too long now!"

"Yes dad!" I cried back moving around the store to grab shit off the shelves. We were only here because of my period. Every month he put himself in danger so I could raid pharmacies for painkillers and pads. I sighed. It wasn't fair.

I felt hot. My skin was on fire despite being completely soaked in a cold sweat. I couldn't move, nor could I stop the shivers racking my body. My mind wouldn't even will my eyes to peel open. I was dazed and scared. Those zoms at the door had they managed to bite me? I ran through the stages in my head – pain, fever, hallucinations. I had a fever definitely and I was in pain but nothing torturing like being bitten. Not to mention I was not hallucinating. I relaxed, I think I would be ok. I started drifting off again into darkness.

"Just keep her stable until we get back."

A voice? A human voice forming human, functioning words. I had to be bitten to have hallucinated that. A soft cry finally escaped my lips as I struggled to open my eyes. I had to, if I was bit that means they'd still be near.

My eyes finally peeled open as I hazily looked around. Two figures stood over me – the zoms. I lashed out with weak limbs. I couldn't see properly – my vision was hazed white. I was scared. I breathed heavily as I moved from my spot on the floor. Something wet fell off my forehead.

"Easy, we're not going to hurt you," a soothing voice hummed.

It was impossible that they could be humans. I was losing my shit.

My hands fumbled around the floor for a weapon, then I remembered my knife in my shoe. I fumbled to stand. My body hurt with a dull pain and I desperately shook my head free of its state. I needed to focus.

Taking a deep, steady breathe I narrowed my eyes and focused on the two figures, carefully aiming the knife.

Except, when my eyes focused I didn't see zoms. Instead, I saw two boys, two men. Human, living breathing men. I gasped, my eyes growing wide as I stared at the strangers – not daring to drop my knife.

I studied the two – the blonde one wore a pair of black jeans and a holster holding a knife and a revolver, but both weapons sat in their seats and not in his hands. I looked up, past his flannel jacket and his sculpted cheek bones to his eyes. His hazel eyes were soft and warming. He didn't look like he meant harm.

"Miss, take it easy we don't want any harm," the other one spoke again smoothly.

My eyes flickered over to him, the black man seemed a little older than the blonde but not by much. His own brown eyes also held peace and kindness, and I scanned him to spot the machete strapped safely to his hip. I was surprised, they weren't much older than me but they were alone, and seemed nice enough. How the hell did they survive so young and so nice? I took a step back. Perhaps, they were tricking me into a false sense of security. It would be a dangerous loss to leave without my stuff but it didn't seem like I had any other option. And I had to move quickly with the adrenaline coursing through my veins and past my fever or else I'd pass out again. And who knows what they'd do then.

"Listen, my names Cameron, this is Flynn we can help you," The blonde spoke.

I bolted for the door not giving them the time of day.

"Wait!" The blonde called after me as I reached the door – or lack of. I paused for a mere second to see they had broken it off its hinges when they entered. Still, it was a heavy oak door how did the two of them manage that?

I shook it off, it wasn't an important question to my escape. Except, when I ran through the door something hard and soft prevented my escape and landed me with a yelp, and a hard seat on my ass on the floor.

My eyes had to blink a few times to snap my brain into functioning thoughts. Nauseous rolled in my stomach and I swayed slightly as the room spun. I was out of time, and out of adrenaline it would seem. I looked at what I ran into. Or whom it would seem.

The man was nothing like the blonde or the other one. His blonde hair was gelled back – standing menacingly a few inches taller than the other two. His hazel eyes nothing like blondies were hard and cold. He stared down at me with annoyance – his hand wrapped around a sword that seemed to be stained with blood. I prayed it was zom blood.

"Jax back off, you're scaring her," the blonde called with a heavy sigh.

The angry blonde – Jax, merely stared down at me, studying me under his heavy scrutiny. I gulped harshly, and attempted to stand. My legs turned to jelly as I pitched forward. Hard arms caught me as I blanked for a few seconds.

"Jesus Christ girl, don't be a fucking idiot," Jax grunted his hard arms holding me steady.

I looked up at his face, breathing hard trying not to puke nor pass out in this situation. I was set on the floor, and I steered my focus to glare at the floor. I didn't know what to do to escape this situation. I was fucked.