"Damn it!" Obie hollered.

She was never a runner, but shit happens.

She peered back, panting harshly.

Burrito was falling behind.

Stricken with fear by the growls echoing behind them, Obie slowed a bit to reach down and picked up the fat possum.

The parking garage's floor had cracks at every step. She stubbed her toes as she sprinted, slowing her down enough for the infected to claw at her neck.

She managed to escape, scarcely.

She cursed again, once her eyes caught the closing garage door.

There was only one option. Obie expected to come out of this mall alive with Burrito beside her, but her expectations were let down under the circumstances.

Putting her companion on the wet floor, she ordered. "Go Burrito! Go!"

The possum ran, clearly making it through the garage door, but the luck ran out with Obie. Obie slipped on a pool of fuel oil as the two vampires tripped along with her.

She cried out once she scrapped the bottom of her chin. The blood mixed with the oil, an unsettling combination that burned Obie's attached flesh.

A growl licked her ear. Her head snapped to the side, coming face to face with one of the demons of both her reality and dreams.

The male vampire was snapping each of his sharp teeth towards her face. His fang nipped the tip of her turn up nose by less than a centimeter. The tiny amount of Obie's blood hung on his fang and onto his tongue, influencing his capture attempt to go wildly. His claws swinging for a grip. But, the slippery liquid had fought his balance for her advantage. The mindless monster had been falling on his hands and knees each time, yet she remained worried and frantic, because he was getting closer despite his struggles.

She continued to crawl as fast as she can towards dry concrete.

Obie's chest heaved, harshly.

The intake of humid air and dry scratchiness within her throat were tiggers for her hyperventilation.

Her body was pulled back into the ground. She turned back to see the female vampire's hand wounded around her ankle. Instinctively, she bent her knee and released it with full force, slamming her heel into the vampire's face.

It whimpered, sinking into the ground.

She used the opportunity to run. She reached the garage door, looking through the window, and saw Burrito under a car right in the driveway. Her breath passed her lips, unhindered, because the animal was safe. However, her pet wasn't safe from the uninfected.

A large button was on the side of the garage, which Obie pressed in hopes it controlled the opening. She almost cried out in happiness as the door began to rise; without wasting a moment, she rolled under and paced to her partner.

The animal met her half way. Burrito hopped into her arms, nose kissing Obie's inner arm as her owner hugged her close.

"Hey, girl," She kissed the possum's now brown hair. After all the conflicts they've been through, Burrito was startled each time they escaped it. The poor animal was shivering in her arms. "It's okay. It's okay,"

She hummed to her, soothing them both.

Obie wasn't going to lie. The situation scared her too. They always do.

She looked back at the garage door, expecting to find her infected parents there. And they were.

Osier Holloway and Michelle Holloway, or in other words who they used to be, was standing under the doorway, inside of the shadows of the parking lot. The image of her mom and dad, before the world destroyed them by science, never left her back pocket. Yet, to witness them in this state now, instantly pooled her eyeballs.

She walked away, ignoring the growling.

The last thing she wanted to do was waste time in finding a hiding spot before the infected located them, yet again. There was no other choice.

An hour has gone by. The sun still yet lives. But Obie knew better to underestimate time. She had about five hours to find food, a different shelter, and avoid any Vamps.

That's right. She said "Vamps." She's used to saying the word infected, but amongst the communities she hopped in and out of, they replaced the word with "vampires." The word slipped into her vocabulary from time to time, but she preferred "the infected."

The television version of vampires weren't mindless. These things were like zombies.

Yet, she didn't analyze too much into it. Vampires, vamps, infected or zombies; they were all thirsty for blood.

Obie forced herself to smile when she found a place.

Traveling in a vacant city with cars rusting in the streets and vines growing on buildings was difficult. The infected was attracted to anything living from ants, birds to the nosiest creatures on earth, human beings. They take their time finding anything in any place, especially living beings that are hurtled together.

That's why Obie refused to stay in a community. It was better off with just her and Burrito. The more the merrier phrase only works on behalf of the Vamps' appetite.

There were more things to avoid to keep the infected away. Obie found out the hard way.

Do not clean yourself: as disgusting as it sounds, musk saves lives. It masks the scent of the body, but try not to linger closely to anyone else. Their odor will attract specific blood related vamps, leaving a target for infected family members to attack. It's hard enough their own blood was hunting them. Imagine someone else's bloodline too.

Do not stay in a certain place after a week; this was not for the Vamps, but for the humans who took the end of the world as an opportunity to either rule or destroy. In some cases, they were the same thing.

Stay out of basements: humans like to scavenge for resources and the first area to search was below.

The best places to live are high: avoids humans.

Worst places to live are high: cannot avoid the infected. Some of them can fly.

Don't make a sound.

Don't make friends.

Don't hesitate to run.

Don't share food.

Be selfish.

Don't help any one.

Isolate yourself.

Obie sighed.

She definitely sounded like a bitch, but to understand it, it must be lived through.

She made sure to put Burrito in her backpack, because she needed her hands in case one of the infected popped up. The perfect place was a room full of decaying dead bodies. Dead blood was poisonous to vampires. The chemicals released from the dead in a confined room, taken in by one whiff weakens their mental regulations; nausea, nose bleeds and lack of coordination. There was no doubt they can overcome it, but if they remained in the room for too long, their vision becomes off; they are almost blinded.

None of them liked the feeling, thus none of them entered.

"There are like ten of them, Burrito." She mumbled to the peeking possum, whose head was settled on the open rim of the book-bag. Her bitty brown eyes side eyed Obie.

"I wonder what happened here,"

Obie tilted her head and observed one of the bodies.

Looking back again, "People."

One of the bodies was a woman in her forties with an enlarged stomach, most likely from starvation. Or Obie was giving the woman too much credit. She had long brown hair, underneath the dirt coated skin was an olive tone and the rest, Obie couldn't make out. However, her womb was stained brown with little holes that were exposed as wounds. She was stabbed to death. Not only that, her dress rose up to her hips; her revealed private area left Obie in assumption that the woman didn't suffer from just stabbing.

She frowned.

Obie pulled down her dress, carefully.

Obie traveled across the room. After all this time of sleeping next to corpses, the smell was still overbearing. Burrito had a strong sense of smell; a powerful gift that aided in their scavenging, but kind of messed her up in these cases.

She spotted a closet in the back. Maybe they could stay in here. It was empty and blocked the smell.

"Okay, B." She let her down inside, not before spreading a blanket on the floor. It was a cleaning supply closet and some of the products were spilled. She didn't want to take the chance of getting it on her skin. "How you like it?"

She sniffed around the closet.

"I know its small and it kind of stinks, but its better than outside right," She smiled, lifting the possum from the floor. "Let's go check upstairs. There's gotta be something in here. It is a grocery store,"

After hopping and tip toing all over the bodies, she waltzed upstairs. The group lived here for some time.

Bodies were posted outside. She guessed their job was to serve and protect, but that ended horribly. As soon as she walked in, body parts of the elderly, one child and two young adults were displayed everywhere.

They had a storage of food in the basement, which was now gone and taken.

Upstairs was full of beds. What does she have to kill to sleep on a bed? Nothing. It was a death trap. She remembers the last time she chose comfort over safety. She earned a nasty scar on her back.

It was pretty dark in the room. The thought frightened her. She placed her bag down with her possum and ran to the windows, because God knows what can pop up. She pulled the first curtain, welcoming the sun shine. Then, the second was pulled.

She skirted to the third window, continuing the course. However, as she gripped onto the fabric, a solid grip settled upon her hand.

She looked up to blue eyes.

...and four fangs.