Do or Die

Hey guys!

As a gift for my fellow writer and friend Clove (check her out at The Wings of My Words) I wrote a short story.
Yes, it's a zombie story, and yes, it's pretty gross. You have been warned.

So without further ado, Happy Birthday to Clove and here 'tis!

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Natalie was a senior. She was just about to graduate. With excellent scores in all areas, she was practically guaranteed a place at Harvard University, where she longed to study medicine. She'd played soccer, done gymnastics, and was an outstanding math student. And she was a looker. Her long, brown hair and blue eyes had earned her many admirers among her peers. Life was good.

Then disease hit like a nuclear bomb on steroids. Starting in Washington DC, people began contracting a disease that seemed like a cross between the Black Plague from the middle ages and skin cancer. Their skin just started rotting. Their nervous systems broke down. Their senses were scrambled, and they couldn't see, hear, or smell right. They shambled around mindlessly, attacking anything they came into contact with.

Natalie's family had watched the disease spread with growing trepidation.

“What'll we do?” her little sister had asked.

Her father had sat staring at the television for a long time. Then he finally answered “We'll move if we have to. To the Caribbean, or something.”

For a while, that had been the plan. But then more reports had come in, frantic stories of people being infected in Europe, Asia, and South America. Nowhere had gone unaffected.

Finally, it had struck California.

First to go was her little brother, Johnny. Natalie remembered sitting by his bedside, looking at his pale gray face. Snot was dribbling uncontrollably from his nose, and the veins stood out on his forehead.

Their family was devastated. They didn't know what to do. Then one night, Johnny finally snapped.

Natalie had been sleeping in her bedroom with her twelve-year-old sister Sarah when she was awakened by a shuffling noise. She opened her eyes.

The door creaked ajar. She sat up and saw Johnny standing in the doorway. He was worse than ever. Skin had fallen off his face at places, exposing veins and bone. His eyes were rolled back until only the whites showed, and they were bloodshot. His lips were cracked, and his chin and mouth were sticky with mucus and blood.

“J-Johnny?” She breathed. She resisted the urge to throw up. “Are...you all right?”

Johnny – or what was left of him – opened his mouth. A gurgle came out, followed by what sounded like “Hun...gry.”

Natalie covered her mouth. “Johnny...it'll be okay. Go back to your room. I'll get you something.”

Her brother just stood there, with what looked like a half smile on his face. Then he lurched forward towards Sarah, who was still sound asleep.

“Johnny...? What are you doing? Johnny, no, get away from her, you're sick!” Natalie lurched out of bed.

Her brother reached for the sleeping form of her sister, the half-smile still stuck on his face. “Hun...gry.” He grabbed her arm and sunk his rotting teeth into it.

Sarah jerked awake and screamed. Natalie launched a solid kick, slamming Johnny in the chest and staggering him backwards. He hit the wall and slid down, his mouth still working.

“Sarah, are you okay? Mom! Dad! Come quick!”

Sarah clutched Natalie's arm in horror, staring at where Johnny had bit her. Mucus and blood were on the wound, which was a horrible gash.

“Johnny...Johnny...what's happened to you?” Natalie sobbed, tearing off a bit of the bedsheet and wrapping it around her sister's arm. She looked at her brother, still slumped against the wall.

“Hun...gry...”

Natalie felt the disgust in her well up. She dry-heaved, clutching her chest.

“Mom! Dad!” Sarah screamed.

Natalie suddenly realized it had been at least a minute or so since she'd called them. She tied off the makeshift bandage and took Sarah by the hand. “Come on.”

They left the room, half-running through the house to their parents' bedroom. “Mom? Dad?” They burst into the master bedroom.

Natalie froze in shock. Sarah screamed in horror and buried her face in Natalie's night dress.

There, on the covers, was a horrifying mess. Bones could be seen caked with bits of flesh and blood, sticking out of the pile of organs and whatever else. This time, Natalie actually heaved. She coughed and spat, her tears mingling with her disgust.

“Mom...Dad...”

A hand suddenly grabbed her shoulder from behind, and she spun around in fright, knocking the person back. A familiar half-smile greeted her eyes. “Hun...gry.”

Natalie screamed in fright, anger, and grief. She slammed her foot into Johnny's solar plexus and then roundhouse kicked him in the head, knocking him to the ground. She looked around for a weapon and saw her dad's machete leaning against his dresser. Trying to ignore the carnage, she ran over to it and snatched it up.

“Hungry...” Johnny was slowly getting back up. Sarah was frozen in terror, stuck between their parent's remains and what was left of her brother.

Natalie was gagging and crying at the same time as she stumbled towards her brother. She lifted the machete and stared at his diseased face. Where did you go, Johnny? Where are you? She choked back a sob and swung the blade, closing her eyes as it severed his head from his body. The corpse slowly collapsed to the ground, the head rolling to a stop down the hallway.

She gasped for air and sobbed, the tears rolling down her face. Mom and Dad...are dead. And so is Johnny. She dropped the machete and buried her face in her hands, shuddering. What is happening?

“What's going on?” Sarah echoed her thoughts in a frantic tone. “Where's Mom and Dad?”

Natalie sobbed. She felt nauseous and light-headed. Gone... she answered in her mind. Gone.

It was a week later, and they still hadn't found any other survivors. After their original incident with Johnny and their parents, Natalie and Sarah had hurriedly loaded up the family van and hightailed it out of Springwater, the backcountry town where they lived. As they drove down the highway Sarah looked in awe at the wreck visible on the road.

“Why are there so many?”

“Remember the news?” Natalie replied. “The disease was really fast-spreading at first. I guess it slowed down as it came our way, as–”

She gripped the wheel tighter, her kuckles white with the pressure. As it took us.

Natalie pressed the brakes, bringing the car to a stop. She breathed in sharply. “Not good.”

In front of them, spread out across what seemed like miles, was the biggest car wreck she'd ever seen. The sea of cars sat like a huge pile of scrap metal blocking the entire highway. Natalie turned the car off and stared.

“Wh-what happened?” Sarah whispered.

“It's huge,” Natalie quietly agreed.

“Were they...infected?”

Natalie took her backpack and pulled out a pair of binoculars. “Wait here.”

“But, Nat-”

“Just...wait here.” Natalie opened her door and stepped out, walking over to the concrete median. She climbed up on it and raised her binoculars. Scanning through the massive pileup, she scrolled the focus dial to its furthest extent. In the hazy distance, she was able to see a sign.

WELCOME TO

UTAH

She lowered the binoculars and stepped down. Well, what now? She had originally started off with no direction...just away. Away from the cities, away from society. She hadn't even realized she was going east.

Then...she looked up at the mountains, towering in the all-too-close distance. Maybe they won't have gotten up that high. She mused. And it made sense. Not many people lived in the Rockies themselves, and those who had probably had gotten fair warning about the disease. Maybe they could find a hunter, or trapper, and stay with them. Work together.

She backed out of her thoughts and looked around. To the more immediate problem, how were they going to get around this mess? She couldn't see any way through, and around was practically out of the question, as there were thick forests on either side of the highway. Maybe we have a map.

As she turned back to the car, Sarah called her name softly. “Nat!”

Natalie froze as the sounds of groaning reached her ears. She looked around. Several diseased could be seen on the opposite side of the median, and a couple more were just now emerging from the trees.

“Don't make any loud noises, Sarah.” She walked as gently as she could back to the car, opening the door quietly and getting in. “We have a map, right?”

“Yeah.” Sarah opened the glovebox and handed one to her. Natalie opened it and scrolled to a nationwide portion. She scanned the highways, then mentally berated herself. You don't know where you are, idiot. “Never mind.” She closed it.

“So...where are we going?”

Natalie looked over at her sister. The innocent twelve-year-old face, framed by its dirty blonde hair, stared back at her. Hopeful. Trusting. The sea-blue eyes, so much like her own, held her gaze.

“We're going to the mountains,” she finally said.

“Aww yeah!” Sarah pumped the air with a fist. “I always wanted to live up high, in the backcountry.”

Natalie smiled. “Keep your voice down.” She clicked her seat belt into position and looked around. The diseased were on the highway now, wandering aimlessly around. While they weren't that bright, they reacted quickly to any sudden noises or quick movement. Natalie knew that as soon as she gunned the engine, it would be a race to get clear before they were swarmed.

She set the car into reverse and took a deep breath.

Then she went for it. Turning the keys in the ignition, the engine coughed and sputtered to life. As soon as it kicked in Natalie slammed on the gas pedal, causing the van to rocket backwards. The diseased reacted almost as quickly, turning at the noise and shambling in their direction. Natalie saw two in her direct line of approach. She swerved slightly, slamming into one and jerking the car, hard. She hit the brake pedal and steered to the right, and as the van swerved it hit several more. As soon as they stopped she shifted into drive and hit the gas pedal again, clipping yet another one as they accelerated, leaving the group of infected behind.

As soon as they were well clear of the danger, Natalie slacked off, slowing down a tad. She breathed a sigh of relief, her heart pounding at least a zillion times per hour.

“That was close,” Sarah said.

Natalie glanced over at her sister. At least I'm not the only one scared out of my wits. “Did you see that driving?” She grinned, trying to relieve the tension. “I think I would've made Dad vomit.”

Sarah smiled and laughed, then stopped.

“Yeah. Yeah it would've,” she said softly.

Natalie drove back a long way up the highway before she finally found a side road. She turned off and drove down it, mentally crossing her fingers. As long as we get to higher ground.

As luck would have it, the road did eventually begin to slope upwards, winding around the foothills of the Rockies. After a full day of driving, Natalie slowed down as she saw a lone gas station in the distance.

“Are you really planning on going in there?” Sarah asked.

“We need gas.”

“Yeah, but – a gas station means –”

Natalie slowed down as they approached it and pulled over to the side of the road. “It'll be all right, just stay with the car. I'll get some gas and come back.”

“That's not fair, Nat, I-”

“Sarah.” Natalie parked the car and looked her sister in the eyes. “There may be people there, maybe not. Either way, the safest place is in the car. And,” she smiled, taking the keys out of the ignition and handing them to Sarah, “I need someone to guard the valuables.”

“Well...okay then. But be careful.”

“I'm the very soul of caution, Sis.” Natalie took the empty gas cans out of the trunk and tied them together, carrying them across her back. She took her machete from the driver's seat and set off towards the station in the growing dark.

From a distance, the station had seemed untouched. But as Natalie approached it, she could see more and more signs of neglect. Not good.

When she reached the building, she took out her flashlight. The sun was completely gone now, and the building was dark, no lights showing anywhere. She paused and listened, then tentatively turned her flashlight on.

When she shined it on the building, she recoiled a little in shock. The doors and windows were boarded up, and on the wood was stained splashes of red. Natalie winced. She moved her flashlight down and her heart gave another mini jump.

Several bodies were scattered on the ground in front of the station. Several were clearly infected; but one, dressed in the uniform of the place, was clearly not.

She walked over to the door, avoiding the bodies, and knocked: then stopped as the door swung open upon her touch. A rotting smell met her nose. She grimaced and set down the gas cans, drawing her machete. I don't like this. I really don't like this.

Entering the building cautiously, she shined her light around. The shelves where all the snacks and other stuff was kept were in practical ruins, with rubbish scattered all over the floor. Her flashlight illuminated another body slumped behind the counter: the clerk, dead. Natalie quickly turned her light away, then froze as the cold metal of a gun barrel was pressed against her neck.

“Who are you?” a voice hissed.

Natalie's heart leaped in fright. “I – I'm just looking for gas.”

“You...have a car?”

“Yes.” Natalie hesitated. “Can you not poke me with that?”

The person was silent. “Are you infected?” he finally asked.

“No, of course not.” She whispered.

“All right then.” The gun barrel was removed. Natalie slowly stood up and turned around, shining her flashlight on her unexpected visitor.

The beam revealed a tall, broad man dressed in what Natalie recognized as the uniform of the gas station. He had dark hair and eyes, and stubble framed his square, heavyset jaw. In his right hand he held a pistol, and in his left there was a large knife.

He held up a hand, squinting. “I would turn that off, if I were you,” he whispered. “There's probably more of them nearby.”

Natalie clicked off the light and held out a hand. “I'm, uh, Natalie.”

“Allen.”

They shook hands. Allen looked around nervously. “You said you had a car?”

“Yeah, we do.”

“We?”

“My sister's with the car.”

Allen's breath hissed out. “You left her by herself? I told you, there's more of them around.”

Natalie's eyes widened. What? She turned and ran towards the door, jerking it open. She sprinted outside and smashed into something, tumbling to the ground.

A gurgle sounded by her ear. Natalie gasped and rolled over, getting up and frantically crawling away. She turned her flashlight on and shined it in the direction of the noise.

The object she had crashed into stared at her through the whites of its eyes, snot dripping off of its torn and bloody face.

Infected.

The thing stretched out a hand, grasping the pavement, crawling slowly towards her. Natalie gripped her machete and swung out at it, clipping it on the head. The thing's brains oozed out of the cut she made, but the diseased person kept crawling at her, gurgling unintelligibly.

Natalie's hand trembled. Her heart was pounding like crazy as she swung again and again. The blade cut and hacked and slashed at the crawling dead, and finally it stopped, the gurgle fading away.

Natalie closed her eyes at the sight of the bloody mess in front of her. The infected person's face was completely unrecognizable as human, and gore was spilled in a puddle around the prone body. She covered her mouth, feeling like vomiting.

“Hey, you okay?”

She opened her eyes and looked up. Allen was standing over her, his expression concerned. He looked around nervously. “Let's get out of here before any more show up.”

Natalie, her stomach still sick, nodded. She stood up and walked over to the empty gas cans, picking them up. “Hurry.”

They headed in a run back towards the van, the gas cans clattering noisily over Natalie's back. Just halfway there Natalie heard Sarah's voice scream.

“Natalie!”

Natalie broke into a dead sprint. A gunshot sounded, then another. They could hear the groans and muttering of diseased surrounding the vehicle. Natalie flicked her flashlight on, shining it in the direction of the car. Several dark shapes were clustered by the passenger window, which was halfway open. Their arms were reaching inside. Sarah was huddled against the driver's window, pointing the gun at the infected – two already lay on the pavement.

“Sarah, close the window!” Natalie shouted over the racket.

Sarah inserted the keys into the ignition and hit the window button. The window rolled upward and pinned the zombies' arms to the roof, immobilizing them. Natalie sprinted the last few meters and swung her machete, hacking the diseased free from their arms. Allen was quick to follow through, slashing out with his large knife. Natalie slammed her blade into the next zombie's neck, nearly chopping its head off. Gurgling, it slumped to the ground, nearly dragging Natalie along with it. Natalie coughed at the rotten smell and jerked her machete free, kicking the zombie away.

“In the car!” Allen shouted, finishing off the last one. Natalie ran around to the driver's side and opened the door. Sarah, still pressed against it, fell against Natalie, trembling.

“It's all right, Sis, it's all right.” Natalie hugged her. “Get in the back, okay?”

Sarah numbly complied. Allen opened the passenger door and jumped in. He rolled the window down and tipped the severed arms, which were still stuck between the glass and roof, out and into the street.

Natalie gunned the engine and the car roared to life, the headlights beaming on. They could see several more infected shambling towards them in the light created by the lamps, and Natalie could see some in the back as well.

Where are they coming from!? She hit the gas, swerving to avoid the zombies but clipping one in the process. They shot down the street into the night.

After five minutes of driving, Natalie slowed down and brought the car to a stop.

“What's the matter -” Allen looked over at Natalie. She hunched over the wheel, shaking uncontrollably. Gore was spattered on her clothes and face, her bloody machete laid across her lap.

Allen reached over and patted her on the back. “Hey, calm down. You did good out there.”

Natalie coughed and dry-heaved. She looked at her dirty hands, then closed her eyes. Please, just tell me this is a bad dream. She breathed in and out, trying to slow down her heart rate. Slow down, Nat. Get used to it. She took a deep breath, then looked over her shoulder at Sarah. Her sister was hugging her knees, her face buried in them. Her shoulders were shaking in a silent sob.

Natalie reached back and patted her on the head. “Hey. Hey, we're safe now, sis. It's okay.”

Sarah looked up. “Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“I'm scared.”

Natalie gave her a half-grin. “And I'm terrified, so you're not alone.”

Allen joined in. “If it's any comfort to either of you, I pretty much wet my pants.”

Natalie looked at him in mock horror. “Get out of my car!” They laughed shakily.

“So, you're Sarah, right?” Allen asked. Sarah nodded. “Hi. I'm Allen.”

“Nice to meet you...I guess.”

“So.” Allen stared at Sarah for a second, then switched his gaze to Natalie. “What's your game plan?”

Natalie sighed. “You know where we are, right?”

“Absolutely.” Allen picked up the map, scrolling to their area and placing his finger on a dotted line. “We're currently around here. If you'd like to know, there's a cabin retreat around here, some hours drive away.” he said, moving his finger up the map. “Whether it's unoccupied or not is a gamble, but it's a nice place, if you're interested.”

“We'll head there, then,” Natalie sighed, absently wiping her hands on her pants. “You drive?”

“Sure.”

Several hours later, they were well into the drive. Sarah had long since fallen asleep from exhaustion, and Natalie was close to doing the same. The adrenaline from earlier had faded out a while ago, leaving her bone-weary. Allen seemed to be doing fine, but Natalie knew he was tired. She took a glance at her watch. The display read three-thirty in the morning.

“Take a nap,” Allen said, looking over at her. “We've got maybe two or so hours to go.”

Natalie nodded and closed her eyes. The droning of the car quickly rocked her to sleep.

In what seemed like no time at all, she felt Allen shaking her awake. “Hey.”

Natalie rubbed the sleep from her eyes as they opened. She looked around. The soft light of dawn washed everything in a quiet yellow light. She glanced at her watch. Six forty-three.

She looked back at Sarah, still fast asleep. Reaching back, she shook her gently. “Hey, sis. Wakey wakey.”

Sarah shifted, then slowly opened her eyes. “Wh-where are we?”

“The Rockies.” Allen gestured out the window. “Take a look.”

They looked around. They were clearly on the side of a large mountain. On their right side the road dropped off sharply into a gorge, lined with trees and a river on the bottom. The tall peaks of more mountains rose majestically before them, their snow-capped peaks glistening in the early light. Behind them stretched the Utah plains, the various rivers, lakes, and towns dotting the land.

“Welcome to the wild country,” Allen said.

“Are we close?” Natalie asked.

“Fairly.” Allen pointed ahead to what looked like a side road, shooting off from the one they were currently on. “That road winds around to a surprisingly flat portion of this mountain, where the cabin is. It's great. There's a small river, trees, and it's surprisingly wide for being up in the mountains.”

“Right, let's go then.”

They drove up the path slowly, the tires crunching on the gravel road. They arrived at the top of the path and went through a tunnel that extended through the mountain.

“Here we are,” Allen said as they turned a corner and saw the tunnel's end.

They emerged into warm sunlight. The gravel road led to a large log cabin ahead, sitting in the midst of a clearing. Beyond that, the edge of a cliff was visible, a wooden guardrail lining the edge. Off to the left was a small river, fed by a waterfall coming from above. It flowed to the edge of the cliff and again dropped off. To the right, a small copse of trees swayed in a light breeze.

“It's beautiful,” Sarah breathed. Natalie nodded in silent agreement.

Suddenly a gunshot cracked through the calm. A bullet struck the mountain wall next to them, small rocks spattering against the windshield.

“Who goes there?” shouted a voice.

Natalie started at the shot. “I guess it wasn't unoccupied.”

Allen rolled down the window and turned off the car. “Hartsfield!” he yelled.

“Spatterlock!” the voice replied, “...Allen, that you?”

“Sure thing, Joe.”

Natalie frowned. “Wait...you know these peopl-”

Her word was cut off by the edge of a knife pressed against her throat. She glanced over at Allen in confusion.

Allen smiled at her. “You're so naïve.” He pointed his pistol at Sarah, who was reaching for her gun. “No. Out of the car, both of you. You first,” he said, pointing at Sarah.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Natalie asked against the knifeblade pressing her neck.

Allen grinned. “You honestly thought I was just trying to help? Survival is all that matters in this diseased place.”

Sarah slowly got out of the car, raising her hands in the air. “Your turn,” Allen said, pointing his gun at her and gesturing at the door with his knife hand.

Natalie slowly undid her seat belt. “Look, you don't-”

“Shut up.” Allen pointed at the door. “Out.”

She opened the door and slowly stepped out of the car, raising her hands in the air. A man emerged from the log cabin carrying a long hunting rifle, which was pointed in their direction. “I got 'em covered, Al. You search them.”

Allen holstered his gun and began a thorough inspection of Natalie. After a somewhat humiliating patdown and extensive clothing search, he turned to Sarah.

“You.” He pointed at Sarah. “Tell us, what's that on your arm?” His finger dropped to indicate the bandage Natalie had wrapped around the wound received from Johnny.

“It's...just a scratch.”

“Take off the bandage.”

Natalie tried to intercede. “Hey, it's no-”

“I said shut up,” Allen grated at her. “Take it off.”

Sarah slowly reached over and unwound the bandage. The wrappings fell away to reveal the teeth markings of Johnny's bite.

“Infected."

“No, you don't understand-” Natalie began.

“I said SHUT UP!” Allen pointed his pistol at her. “This girl's been in direct contact with one of them. She's even been bitten. We should kill her right here.”

“No!” Natalie started towards them. “She's not infected! She-”

Allen fired. The bullet grazed Natalie on the shoulder, causing her to stop dead in her tracks. She gasped and clutched the burn, trying not to scream. “Stay where you are!” Allen yelled.

He pointed his gun at Sarah. “You're already dead anyway.”

Natalie closed her eyes.

A shot rang through the air.

“No!” Natalie screamed and opened her eyes.

But Sarah was still standing. Allen was clutching his right shoulder in agony, blood welling from a gunshot wound. He cursed. “Joe! What in tarnation!?”

“Sorry, Al.” Joe worked the bolt on the hunting rifle, chambering another round. “You've also been with 'em. You're infected too.”

“I swear-”

“No, you shut up,” Joe said. He pulled the trigger. The rifle bucked.

Sarah crumpled to the ground.

“NO!” Natalie screamed. She ran over to her sister, another shot from the startled rifleman clipping the air behind her head. She crouched by her sister, panic rising. Blood was pouring from a bullethole in Sarah's chest.

“Oh no no no, no!” Natalie pressed her hands over the gaping wound. “Not this...not again!”

Sarah coughed blood, grimacing with pain. “Nat...”

Another gunshot sounded, and Allen hit the ground a few feet away, blood pouring from an open wound in his head.

“Sarah, stay with me!” Natalie said, shaking her head. Her vision started to blur with tears. “Hang on, it'll be okay, just...hang on!”

“Nat...” Sarah choked, spitting blood and vomit. “Nat, behind...you...”

Nat jerked her head up and looked back. Joe was pointing his gun at her, his face hard. Natalie dived to the side as another shot split the air. She grabbed Allen's pistol and rolled, coming up against the car. A bullet kicked the dust beside her, spattering gravel bits in her face.

“You can't hide, little girl!” Joe shouted. “You're as good as dead, just like them two!”

Natalie scrubbed her face with her sleeve, trying to get rid of the tears. Just hang on, Sarah! Please, hang on! She crawled to the back of the van. Another shot smacked into the ground where she'd just been.

“You're not going anywhere,” came Joe's voice.

Okay, okay. Right. Calm down. Natalie closed her eyes. He's moving to the left, it sounds like. She hopped to the right side of the van, placing her feet behind the tire so they wouldn't be visible.

“Just give up already!” Joe shouted. “It'll be easier for the both of us.”

Natalie took a deep breath, trying to still her shaking hands. One....two.....

“Three,” she whispered. She spun around the back of the car, stepping out into the open. Her eyes landed on Joe, her hands rising. As soon as the sights came in line, she fired.

Her bullet struck him solidly on the hand. His shot went wild, striking the rock wall to her side. He grunted in pain and dropped the rifle, grabbing at his injured hand.

Natalie held the gun on him. “Don't move,” she said, her voice shaking.

Joe spat a curse at her. “Stupid girl!” He turned and ran back into the log cabin.

Natalie nearly cried in relief. I did it...

Then her mind snapped back to reality. “Sarah!” She ran over to her sister's prone body...and stopped.

Joe hadn't fired at her when she'd been standing over Sarah. He'd fired at Sarah.

Natalie covered her face. “No...no...no....please, no....”

Sarah had been struck square in the side of the head. Her sightless eyes were red with blood, and the gray matter of her brain was visible through the bullet's exit area.

Natalie gagged. “Sarah...” She dropped to her knees. Reaching over, she stroked her hair. “Not you too, sis. Not you, too.” The tears flowed freely now, streaking her dirty face. I wish this was all a bad dream...I...wish...

She sat back on her heels and screamed. Raw agony and pain flowed out of her. This disease! It's all because of this disease! Why? Why Mom and Dad? Why Johnny? Why Sarah? Why me?

A shot whipped past her head, grazing her hair. Natalie bit back her cry and jerked her head around. Joe was standing at the door of the cabin, cursing. He had picked up the hunting rifle and was trying to work the bolt with a bloody bandaged hand. “You...stupid...girl...”

Natalie grabbed her pistol and fired. The bullet cracked into the log cabin, spitting wooden shrapnel in Joe's face. He jerked back into the cabin, still mouthing curses. Natalie got up and ran to the car, jumping in the door and gunning the engine. As the car growled to life, Joe appeared at the doorway of the cabin again. He raised his rifle.

Natalie's foot instinctively hit the gas pedal. The car leaped forward, heading straight for Joe, who panicked and fired. The bullet punched through the windshield, tearing the material off the side of Natalie's headrest in passing. The car slammed full-on into Joe, pinning him against the front bumper. Natalie's eyes widened as she saw the cliff edge approaching. She slammed on the brakes – but it was too late. The car shot over the precipice and fell down, down, down...until a flash of white signaled a deep blackness for her.

“Hey.”

Natalie winced. The blackness was turning red now, sending lances of pain through her head.

Wait...I'm not dead, then?

“Hey, you okay?”

Natalie slowly opened her eyes, grimacing as light flooded into them. But it wasn't daylight – it was firelight. She sat up.

“Welcome to the land of the living.”

Natalie looked up. Sitting across from her was a boy, dressed in military uniform, the dark green pattern lacing his top and pants. He looked to be about seventeen or eighteen, with auburn hair over a pair of strangely green eyes, which looked at her intently.

“Where is this?” Natalie said, wincing again as her head complained. Her chest hurt as well, she noted. She reached up to touch her aching forehead and felt a bandage around it.

“I don't think where you are is that relevant right now,” the boy said nonchalantly. “Why might be a little better put.”

“Didn't I fall off a cliff?”

“You certainly did, and bloody well survived to tell about it.” The boy grinned. “Saw it all myself. Just, wham! Over the edge. The car bounced on a couple ledges, which probably saved your life.” He reached over and stoked the fire. “Whoever that guy was you had pasted on the bumper didn't really look like much by the time you landed.”

Natalie tried to take a deep breath, then stopped short and winced. “Good.”

Then she doubled over as the memory of Sarah, shot and bleeding, returned. The physical pain seemed to fade out as the gory mess loomed before her. She coughed, tears running down her cheeks. Then something ran into her eye and she squinted, suddenly feeling a hand pressing on her shoulder, pushing her back down.

“Hey, hey, take it easy.” The boy laid her back down on the makeshift pallet she had originally been on. “You just survived a thousand-foot drop. Take a break.”

“You don't understand, I-”

“No, I do.” Natalie opened her eyes to see the boy staring at her sympathetically. “I saw what was up there. Don't need to ask.”

Natalie closed her eyes and tried breathing normally. The pain in her chest struck out, and she consigned herself to short, concise breaths. “Two of your ribs are broken,” explained the boy.

“Anything else?” she managed to ask.

“Actually no, beyond some minor lacerations and a small concussion, you're fine,” he replied. “Amazing, considering how far you fell.”

“What time is it?”

“Ten P.M.”

“I've been out for that long?”

The boy snorted. “You drove off a bloody cliff.”

“Right. I forgot.”

Natalie gritted her teeth, the pain from her bruises pounding like a dull drumbeat through her body. What'll I do now? I don't know...what will I do? The thought faded in her mind as she drifted back to the comforting embrace of unconsciousness.

When she awoke the next day, it was to the sound of whistling. She blinked. At least my head doesn't hurt as much...She sat up, rubbing her eyes and looking around. Her chest still ached, and she schooled herself to bear it.

The campfire had long since burned to embers, and only a thin trail of smoke wound up from the pile of glowing ash. Beyond the failing flame sat her rescuer, propped up between two enormous backpacks, his back against one and his feet up on the other. On his chest sat a squirrel, munching happily on a nut.

Natalie stared at the queer scene for a second. “Oops a daises, finished, are you?” The boy chuckled, holding another nut tantalizingly close to the squirrel. “Say please.”

The squirrel let out a chirp, grabbing for the nut. The boy laughed and let the little rodent grab the nut, munching it contentedly. Then it saw Natalie, who was staring at the boy and squirrel in utter bewilderment. It let out another chirp and scurried off.

The boy looked over, seeing Natalie. “Oh, hi. You're up.” He swung his legs off the pack and sat up. “Say, I don't remember us introducing ourselves.”

Natalie blinked. “I'm, uh, Natalie.”

“Serafin.” The boy held out a hand and she shook it. “Where you from?”

“California.”

“Sweet.” Serafin jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I'm from up north, Washington State.”

“That's quite a ways away.”

He shrugged. “I didn't walk the entire way, you know. I used to have a helicopter.”

Natalie sputtered. “A-a helicopter?”

“Yup.” He laughed. “Oh, the look on your face!”

“I don't believe it.”

“I can tell.” He thumbed a patch on his uniform. “This is a Ranger patch. I was stationed temporarily in a military base up there. Medical transport personnel. I was on leave from active duty in Afghanistan. Legit.”

Natalie raised her eyebrows. “At your age?”

“What?” Serafin waved his hands. “I'm twenty-two, you know.”

“You-you don't look it.”

“That's because I lied.” He chuckled. “Naw, I'm actually nineteen.”

“Well...” Natalie twisted her fingers. “I guess I should thank you for helping me out.”

“Hey, no problem.” Serafin waved a hand. “Anytime I can save a damsel in distress, I'm glad to help.”

Natalie laughed, then stopped as her chest complained. She put a hand over her broken rib and winced.

“Take it easy.” Serafin stood up and opened one of the backpacks. “Can you stand up?”

Natalie pulled her feet up and slowly struggled upright. Her chest ached, but as long as she didn't strain it, the pain was bearable. She leaned against a nearby tree, breathing slowly. “How long will it take this to heal?”

“Several weeks, at best,” Serafin replied. He held out a vest. “Here, put this on.”

“What is it?”

“It's a bulletproof vest.” He knocked a hand on the thick material. “It's snug, so it'll help brace your chest. But it's not so tight as to keep you from breathing. Plus, of course, it's protective.”

Natalie took the vest and fingered the tough threads. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

After she finished donning the protective gear, she looked curiously at Serafin, who was buckling on one of the rather large-looking backpacks. “Um...do you have one?”

“A vest?” Serafin clicked the chest clip into place, shifting the pack around on his back. “Nah. Only that one.”

“Are you sure you don't need one?”

“Of course not.” He reached down behind his right leg, drawing a semi-automatic pistol and snapping a magazine into place, cocking the slide. “I don't think zombies can use guns. Besides, you need it more than I do.” Reaching behind him, he unstrapped something from the side of his pack and tossed it to Natalie. “Here, you might want this.”

She caught it. “Thanks.” Unsheathing the machete, she looked at her reflection in the dirty blade. Memories of Sarah came to her mind, but she banished them. I don't want to deal with grief right now. Please.

“Er...” She looked up at Serafin. “Do you mind if I tag with you?”

“Huh?” He stopped his adjustments, giving her a curious look. “Do I mind? You don't have much of a choice, do you?”

“Well...”

“Duh, you're coming with me.” He looked down at his pack, finishing his little corrections. “The more the merrier.”

“Some people don't see it that way,” she muttered.

Serafin walked over to the other pack and hefted it. “Yeah. Hey, see if you can lift this.”

Natalie eyed the large bag. “That thing? Are you sure?”

“Why not?” Serafin brought it over to her. “It's very light: I moved practically everything to my pack, so it wouldn't strain your chest.”

Natalie tried lifting it. It was indeed very light. After a little maneuvering and help from Serafin, she had the backpack settled nicely on her shoulders, riding lightly on her hips. She walked back and forth, feeling the weight. She gave Serafin a thumbs-up. He nodded and proceeded to douse the campfire, kicking dirt over the last embers and stomping them out. After that was done, they moved out.

After a few moments of awkward silence where the only sound was the tramp of their feet on the ground, Natalie spoke.

“Hey, Serafin?”

“Yeah?”

“Where are we headed?”

“Washington D.C.”

“Uh...why?”

“The disease started there. Maybe there's a clue to be found on how to end it.”

“Do you...know anything about this disease?”

His face darkened. “Not much. But I can tell you that it's more frightening than anything I've ever seen or heard of. It's worse than cancer, herpes, AIDS, leprosy even. It attacks the nervous system, corroding the senses and functionality of its host. Eventually, the host dies, and the disease has complete control of the system.”

“Sounds like you know a lot to me.”

Serafin shook his head. “No. What I've just described to you is what it does, not what it is. What it is...that's an entirely different matter. The reason I was stationed at that military base in Washington was to analyze that disease. I couldn't come up with much before it hit us.”

“Did you...have family there?”

Serafin didn't answer.

“I'm sorry.”

“No – it's all right.” Serafin dropped a hand down to the pistol riding on his leg, his fingers absently brushing the handle. “I imagine...you know what it's like.”

“Yeah.”

They were silent for a while. This time, it was Serafin who broke the silence.

“Up there.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “That was your sister?”

“Yes.” Natalie clenched her fists, resisting the rising lump in her throat. “She was.”

“And those men...who were they?”

“They were...” Natalie closed her eyes for a second, envisioning Allen's soiled and dirty face, seeming so kind at first...then morphing to the hard expression, staring at her down the gun sights. “They were survivors.”

Serafin nodded in understanding. “The worst kind.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, selfish.” Serafin waved his hand at the terrain around them. “Humans killing other humans for possessions? That's not strength, that's greed and selfishness. True strength is when you can exist side by side and care for each other, even if it means you personally will have to sacrifice. Fighting over things is a stupid way to resolve conflict of interest.”

Natalie raised an eyebrow. “Rich, coming from a guy in the military.”

Serafin stared back at her. “I'm a paramedic. Checkmate.”

She managed a smile. “I thought you were 'medical transport'?”

“That's part of it. I was in a group that specialized in rush-rescue, where you get in, grab the wounded, and fly out, treating them on the way.”

“How come you were chosen to study the disease?”

“I majored on medicine in school.”

“Oh.”

Another awkward pause followed.

“And you?”

Natalie stepped over a fallen tree. “What?”

“What did you major in?”

She laughed. “I'm seventeen. Haven't even started college.”

“Er...” Serafin worked his jaw. “Then...what were you planning to do?”

“Same thing as you, minus the military part.”

“Right.” They walked another minute before he again spoke. “Seventeen? Seriously?”

“...Yeah...”

“Well...” he glanced sideways at her. “You're very pretty, you know that?”

She blushed. “I've been told. But don't get any ideas.”

Serafin held up his hands, an innocent expression pasted across his face. “Hey, I fixed you up, right? Don't I get a few points for that? It's the truth!”

“Yeah, well, thanks.”

After a couple hours of slow hiking due to Natalie's injury, they finally broke through the treeline and hit a broad highway.

“This road looks kind of familiar,” Natalie muttered.

“That's because it's a highway, genius. They all look the same.” Serafin trudged up to the road, looking both ways. “Safe! Let's go.”

“Where?”

“We'll follow the highway east, till we hit a town,” Serafin said. “Maybe we can find a car. I know how to hotwire one.”

“Aaand...where did you learn that?”

“Classified.” He grinned. “Come on.”

They hiked down the road for what seemed to Natalie like ages. Finally, they stopped as the sun disappeared over the horizon.

“There, that looks like a good spot for the night.” Serafin pointed at a van that had spun off the highway and was leaning against a tree.

“As long as there isn't anybody in it, I'm fine,” Natalie responded.

They walked up to the vehicle, Serafin drawing his pistol. He screwed on a silencer to the barrel. Natalie readied her machete, her eyes darting from side to side. Serafin examined the van. The windshield was broken, but not shattered. The passenger door on the left side was dented against the tree it leaned on, and a red stain was visible on the driver's and passenger's seat, the right passenger door hanging open. Other than that, the van was practically spotless.

“Looks good,” Serafin said.

Natalie glanced at the bloodstain on the front seats. “I'll take the back, if you don't mind.”

“That's fine with me.”

Tossing their gear in the van, the two set up for the night. They went into the woods a short distance and dragged several heavy branches back out to the car, barricading the side that faced the highway. Leaving the driver's door unlocked, they settled down for sleep.

“Hey.” Natalie glanced at the barrier as she tried to get into a comfortable position. “Should one of us be on watch?”

“Nah.” Serafin, in the passenger seat, put his feet up on the dashboard and leaned the chair back. “They detect sound and movement mostly, right? We won't be doing either. Just take care not to snore.”

“I don't snore!”

“Oh, good.”

He closed his eyes and soon was breathing the steady rhythm of someone asleep. Amazing he can do that so fast, Natalie thought. Wish I could, I'm just creeped out. She gingerly moved onto her side. He's kind of cute, now that I think about it. She looked at the peaceful figure, his chest steadily rising and falling with the cadence of his breathing. What with his brown hair and green eyes. Weird combination, but I kind of like it...She shook her head. What am I thinking about? The end of the world and I'm considering relationships. Focus, Nat, focus. She tried timing her breathing to the same frequency as Serafin's. Eventually, she fell asleep.

The next day, she woke up to broad sunlight. She blinked, then sat up slowly. Where's Serafin? The seat where he had been sleeping was empty, but the barricade seemed undisturbed. She peered out the windows at the road. No infected could be seen.

Suddenly the door on the driver's side opened, startling her. Serafin entered and closed the door behind him.

“Well, look who's up.” He opened his backpack and rummaged through it. “Did you sleep well?”

“Where were you? You freaked me out!”

Serafin stopped and looked at her, confused. “Sorry. I woke up a while ago, so I went to see if I could find anything edible nearby. Unfortunately I found nada, so I came back.”

Natalie rubbed her face. “How long did I sleep?”

“It's around ten in the morning.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Why didn't you wake me up sooner?”

“'Cause you need your beauty sleep. And that wound isn't getting any better on its own.” He handed her a ration bar from an MRE pulled out of his pack. “We've got a ways to go today. Eat up.”

A little later, they were once again trudging down the highway. Contrary to Serafin's statement, it was only three hours later that a large cluster of buildings came into view. To gain a vantage point they climbed a mountain that rose next to them, stopping halfway to survey the layout. When they reached a high enough point to see properly, Natalie let out a slow whistle.

“Welcome to Salt Lake City,” Serafin said, gesturing at the large lake which gave the city its name. “I hadn't expected to hit this place.”

“Salt Lake is the capital of Utah, isn't it?” Natalie said, staring at the vast expanse of civilization spread out before them.

“Yup.” Serafin sighed. “See all those buildings? Know what that means?”

“We're in a city?”

“No, it means lots of them.”

“Oh. Right.”

Serafin pulled out a map and perused it, pursing his lips. “Hum.” He folded it and placed it back in his pocket. “Hum.”

Natalie looked at him questioningly. “You have a plan?”

“No, I'm just looking pensive.” Serafin rolled his eyes. “Actually I was thinking. What does that look like?” He pointed down to a group of buildings on the side of the city closest to them.

“Um, I don't know. Buildings?”

“That's a private airport. It's for lots of small-time people, restaurants and personal aircraft and whatnot.”

“You're not actually thinking of trying to fly away from here, are you?” Natalie leaned against the rock wall. “You didn't tell me you could fly airplanes.”

“I can't.” Serafin shrugged. “I can fly helicopters. And there should be one or two down there. I can see what might be a helipad.”

“So...we toddle off down there and fly away to D.C.?”

“It's not that simple.” Serafin said. “Helicopters can't fly as far as planes. But with a little skipping from city to city, we should be able to do it. That's what I was looking at my map for.”

“So the trick's just getting down there.” Natalie finished.

“Right. And on the way we should probably grab some food, maybe break into a house and see what we can find.”

Natalie shrugged her shoulders, wincing as her chest complained. “Sounds simple.”

“Sure. Let's go.”

Serafin marked out the roads to the airport and they made their way down the mountain, back onto the highway. His pistol out and silencer attached, Serafin led the way, his head turning constantly from side to side. Natalie, following close behind, did the same, her machete in hand. They came across a turn into a suburb and Serafin held up a fist, signaling her to stop.

Natalie froze. Ahead, along the line of houses, a general muttering and moaning could be heard. She looked over Serafin's shoulder. Several infected were roaming the streets, unintelligible sounds whistling from their mouths. She could see a few more dotting the porches, and who knew how many were inside. They quietly made their way to a hedgeline behind the house closest to them.

“I hadn't expected there to be so many.” Serafin muttered.

“We should still be able to sneak aroun-” Natalie started, then cut off as Serafin's eyes widened. “What?”

Serafin raised his pistol slowly. “Don't...move...” he whispered, barely audible.

Natalie's heart stopped as she felt something on her neck. It was hot and damp.

Breath.

A low moan sounded behind her. Serafin threw aside caution and jerked the pistol up, firing two shots in succession. The silencer thumped twice and a large weight hit Natalie on the back. She spun around, shoving the thing off and crawling frantically backwards. The infected person behind her was lying on the grass, two bulletholes through its forehead. Natalie shivered as she felt the slimy remains on her back, her breathing fast and short.

“Calm down, it's dead.” Serafin said. He looked at her white face. “Um...you've got something on your back.”

“I noticed,” Natalie whispered shakily. She scraped her back along the grass, getting off what she could. “That scared the heck out of me.”

“Me too.” Serafin agreed.

They snuck along the edge of the shrubbery, avoiding the infected where they could. Eventually they made it to the end of the suburb, a crossroads. Directly opposite them was the road to the airport.

“Let's go through this house first,” Serafin said in a low voice, pointing at the one they were next to. The infected, while still plenty in number, didn't seem to be roaming around this house. The doors and windows were boarded up, and a bent, rusty fence surrounded it.

“You think we'll find something useful? It looks a bit...falling apart,” Natalie said as they hopped over the fence.

“Well, it may be decrepit and broken-down, but someone did live here at one point or another.” Serafin gestured to a few broken toys scattered about a dirty sandbox. “We should probably be a bit cautious in searching this place. They might have turned.”

Natalie extracted a flashlight from her backpack and shifted it to her left hand, holding her machete in her right. They crept up to the back door. A single two-by-four was nailed horizontally across it, but the wood was old and rotting. Natalie easily cut it in half, moving the two pieces out of the way. She tried the door handle.

“Locked.” She looked at Serafin. “I don't suppose they taught you lockpicking in the Army?”

“No.” Serafin admitted. “But that doesn't mean we can't get in. We just need to unscrew the handle.” He held up a multitool.

“You've got everything, don't you?” Natalie said, heaving a sigh.

“Pretty much.”

After a minute of unscrewing and jiggling the handle around, the door opened. Flicking on their flashlights, they entered cautiously. Serafin crossed his wrists, supporting his gun with his flashlight hand and pointing both in the same direction.

“Dusty,” he muttered, moving the beam over the decrepit furniture and musty bookshelves.

“It's not like they had time to clean,” Natalie said. She shined her beam into what looked like the kitchen. To her surprise, it was spotless, aside from a little dust. “Someone might have lived here very recently.”

Serafin nodded in agreement. “Let's see if there's still anything worth taking.”

Unfortunately, their scrutiny of the kitchen provided no results. However, their searches of the bedrooms was much better, yielding several pairs of clothing, of which they each stored one. They moved back out to the main room, looking for unchecked places.

“What about that?” Natalie pointed at a door by the front closet.

“Basement, maybe?” Serafin walked over and tried the handle. “Locked,” he sighed.

“Yeah, well, get to work, Miracle Boy.”

In a few minutes they had the handle off. Serafin tried the door again. It still wouldn't budge. He flicked a glance at Natalie, then backed up and slammed his foot against it. There was a creak and a huge smash, followed by what sounded like something crashing down a flight of stairs. Finally the sound stopped.

“Are you stupid?” Natalie hissed. “The infected might have heard that!”

“I know. We'd better make this quick.”

They headed down the dark flight of stairs, flashlights circling. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, there was a bang and a bullet slammed into Serafin's left hand, knocking the flashlight to the ground. He gasped and immediately crouched.

“Who's there?” Natalie called, crouching beside him.

“Stay away!” Answered a deep voice. “Take one more step and I'll shoot to kill!”

“You okay?” Natalie whispered to Serafin.

“Yeah...fine.” He winced. “I'd forgotten what getting shot felt like.”

“That's not exactly the line I expected.”

The voice called again. “Who are you? Step out and hold your hands up!”

Natalie hesitated, then stood up, holding up her hands. A bright light flashed out of the dark basement, glaring into her eyes. She shielded her face with a hand. “Do you mind? That hurts!”

“Are you scavengers?” Came the voice. It was definitely a man's voice.

“Um...we came here to find stuff, if that's what you mean.” Natalie answered. “But we didn't know anybody was here. We won't hurt you.”

There was silence. Then the light changed, going from a steady beam to what looked like a lantern. Illuminated by the light Natalie could see a man, clean shaven, standing next to a tall, slender woman. Below them trembled a little boy, his fingers in his mouth. Natalie raised her eyebrows.

“You're a family?”

“Obviously.” The man's voice was tired. “Where's your buddy...the one I shot?”

Natalie pointed down behind the crate they were crouched behind. “You hit him in the hand. Nice one.”

“Hey.” Came Serafin's voice. He stood up, nursing a now-bandaged hand. “Not funny.”

Natalie stared at his face, a little dirty but still ruggedly manly. “You're in the Army. Deal with it.”

The man was still pointing his pistol at them. “How can I trust you?”

Serafin fixed a makeshift sling to his shoulder. “I'm in the Army, Ranger division. Medical transport personnel. Master sergeant Serafin.”

“The Army?” The man raised an eyebrow. “I served for several years in the Green Beret corps.”

“It's an honor to be shot by such a distinguished person,” Serafin quipped.

The man waved his empty hand, nonchalant. “Think nothing of it. I'm Doug. May I introduce you to my wife, Lynn, and my boy Timmy. Timmy, say hi.”

Lynn waved. 'Timmy' kept sucking his fingers, staring at the unexpected visitors with wide-eyed horror.

“I'm Natalie,” she introduced herself, walking up to the family and shaking hands. “Nice to meet you.”

“Or not. You gave us quite a scare, thumping up there. We'd thought they were here for sure.”

“Quite a place you have.” Serafin commented. He looked around the basement. “What's in all these crates?”

“Supplies. Equipment.” Doug waved his hand around. “Food, clothes, ammunition, batteries, the lot. We're holed up good and tight.”

“Wow.” Natalie looked around at the stacked crates. “How'd you get all of it?”

“We started stockpiling once the disease began,” Lynn replied. “Doug had the foresight to see we needed to be prepared. He built some rudimentary fortifications and we sat it out.”

Doug sighed, shoving the lantern aside. “We were forced down here when the infected got too numerous. I admit, I don't know what I'm planning on doing next.”

There was a crash from upstairs. They jerked with surprise, staring up at the ceiling. Timmy started crying. “Well.” Serafin unholstered his pistol, shrugging his shoulders. “How about coming with us?”

“Where you headed?”

“Away from here.” Natalie adjusted her pack, hefting her machete. “Serafin says he can fly heli.”

“I can fly.”

“There's an airfield just west of here, with a helipad,” Doug said. He grabbed a pack and handed it to Lynn, putting Timmy in a baby sling across his back.

“We were headed there.” Another crash sounded upstairs, and the moaning of the infected reached their ears.

Natalie took the lead, charging up the stairs. She reached the top and looked around. The front door had been bashed in, and there was a zombie shambling through the opening. Natalie ran forward and hacked her machete right into the thing's head, brains spattering everywhere. She followed it up with a kick, knocking the corpse back onto the front porch. Next came Serafin. Two infected had already made it inside the house. They moaned in unison as they spotted him, stuttering forward, reaching out. Two well-placed shots to the head had them on the carpet.

“All out?” Serafin asked as Doug and Lynn exited the stairway. “Right. I'll lead the way, Lynn right behind. Then Doug, and Natalie will be our rearguard. Let's move.”

They ran out onto the street, disregarding stealth. More infected were already heading in their direction. Serafin jogged across the intersection next to the house and followed the airfield signs, entering the small parking lot that bordered it.

“What's that?” Lynn gasped, looking behind them.

Natalie stole a glance backward and gritted her teeth, spitting out a most unladylike term. “Since when did these buggers learn to run?”

Doug twisted around and fired twice, striking their pursuer in the chest and leg. The infected person stumbled and fell, hitting the pavement. It still wasn't dead, though, and began crawling towards them.

“More.” Came the chilling pronouncement from Serafin. Looking ahead, a group of infected wearing a combination of repair and pilot's uniforms were beating against the wire fence between the airfield and parking lot, moaning. Serafin paused and emptied his clip into the group, dropping at least half of the groaning horde. A scream from Lynn caused Natalie to look back again. Behind them, a dozen or so of the 'running' infected were heading towards them.

“Can I say I don't like this?” Natalie panted like an asthmatic leopard.

“Your opinion is accepted, but unnecessary,” Serafin replied, deadpan. He charged at the airfield lobby door, taking potshots behind him.

As they reached the glass door, an infected suddenly ran in from the side, smacking into Lynn. She screamed and fell to the pavement, struggling against the groaning mass. Doug turned and fired, hitting the person in the head. Blood spattered Lynn's face.

Doug shoved the dead weight off of her...and froze. “No.”

On her shoulder were the teeth markings of an infected, the curved ring distinct and bloody.

“No, no no no no!” Doug stared at the bite, gritting his teeth.

Natalie stopped. She looked down at the bite. Her eyes met Lynn's. Wide. Desperate. Afraid.

“She's beyond our help. We need to go.”

Serafin pushed another clip into his pistol, his bandage now dripping blood. He fired at the approaching infected, taking out the ones nearest to them with deadly precision.

“You don't UNDERSTAND!” Doug shouted. “I can't go...”

“And what about Timmy?” Lynn said softly. “Doug...go.”

He shot her.

Doug stared down at the bloody mess that had been his wife, his tears streaming down his face, paralyzed. The growl of an infected suddenly snapped him back to reality, and he looked up. The infected person slammed into him, knocking him to the ground. His pistol slid out of reach.

“Serafin! Natalie!” He yelled. “Help-”

A small object rolled into his hand. He looked at it...then smiled. The zombie sunk its rotting teeth into his neck. Instead of struggling he embraced the infected, pinning it to himself as the rest of the horde swarmed around him.

Then the world flared white, burning away to nothingness.

Serafin stared back out at the explosion, his expression unreadable. Natalie put a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, we need to get out of here.”

He turned and they ran to the airfield. A large black helicopter sat in the landing zone, invitingly open. Serafin and Natalie jumped in. A minute later, the heli rose off the ground and roared away.

After about fifteen minutes of flight time, Serafin released the controls. “We're safe.”

Natalie, sitting in the copilot's seat, looked over at him. “You okay?”

Serafin stared out of the windshield, his eyes distant. “He was an idiot.”

“Who, Doug? Why?”

“He didn't run. He could have saved his kid. But he chose to stay and die. Stupid.”

Natalie was silent, her mind replaying the scene. She and Serafin had cut and ran for it, leaving Doug kneeling over his wife's body. Once they'd reached the doors, Serafin had tossed a grenade. Doug, his child, wife, and the group of infected had all gone up in flames.

Burned...

Her sister's face flashed before her, head bloody from the same wound Lynn had received. Both eyes, staring blankly at the sky. She shuddered.

“Perhaps we don't understand-”

“No. I understand fine.” Serafin cut her off harshly. “He was a Green Beret. He's supposed to be trained to fight. Can't he accept loss?”

“It was a different loss than what you might think.”

“Maybe, but I understand.” Serafin leaned back in the pilot's seat, rubbing his temples. He focused on a point in the horizon, listlessly gazing. “When...when I came back from deployment, I was ordered to report straight to Washington, not sidetrack anywhere else. I didn't know what was going on. I tried to sneak in a visit to my family.” He closed his eyes. “They were all diseased.”

Natalie said nothing, watching his tortured feelings play out.

“I killed them all, with my bare hands. I tore out their throats, bashed in their heads...” His face was as pale as chalk. “I couldn't believe what my little brother and sister had turned into, what my parents had become. I was horrified. But I killed them all, left them in the merciful embrace of death.”

Natalie nodded sympathetically. “I...know how that feels.” She hesitatingly spilled out what had happened at her home, with Johnny and her parents. When she finished, it felt like a load had been lifted from her back.

Serafin shifted in his seat. “I'm glad we can relate.” He turned his attention to the radar and maps.

“So, where to?”

He managed a tired smile, tracing his finger across the map, finally landing on DC. “To infinity and beyond.” As his eyes glanced from location to location, his smile faded. “Get some rest.”

They were able to refuel and continue their journey almost without incident all the way to the capitol; aside from a brief scrap with a few infected in Oklahoma the trip went smoothly. Hence, after a couple of days, they were staring down at the capital city of the USA, Washington DC.

“Not a lot of visible activity.” Serafin noted.

“Yeah...weird.” Natalie frowned down at the dead city. “You'd think they would be all over the place. But I can't see barely anything.”

Serafin circled a few times before settling down in the large square close to the White House. They checked their gear before climbing out of the helicopter and taking a look around. The large, red-bricked space was empty of life, excepting several pigeons who were tentatively returning from their flight at the sound of the rotors. Other than the wind and occasional bird call, the city was as silent as the grave.

“Can I say I don't like this?”

“Your opinion is accepted, but unnecessary.”

Natalie hefted her machete. “What do we do now?”

Serafin gestured at the large, white building that was the President's residence, its lawn neglected and overgrown. “I've always wanted to sack the house of the most powerful man in the world.”

“Isn't he technically your Commander-in-Chief?”

“Minor details.”

They walked across the open square, keeping a lookout for any infected. As they neared the large building, Natalie paused. “Hey, look at this.”

She pointed to a dark smear that was staining the bricks. The dark trail extended to the left, and as Natalie looked towards it, she noticed other dark smears following it. When she reached the end of the trail, her eyebrow shot up. Where all the other trails converged, there was a large, black ring, ashes lining the circle and fluttering slightly in the wind.

“These are blood trails.” Serafin remarked, following the paths with his fingers. “There was a battle here, and someone burned the bodies.”

“Then, that means...someone's still alive.”

“That's a possibility.”

Natalie looked around, then raised her voice. “Hey! Anybody? Is there anyone there?”

Serafin started like a squirrel that'd been shot in the rear. “What the heck? Keep your voice down! They might be around!”

“And?” Natalie grinned at his startled face. “I didn't see anything coming in, and since somebody's already dealt with a lot of them there's probably not many, if at all, left.”

A weird, screeching moan drifted to them over the wind.

“Or...not.” Serafin clicked the safety off his pistol. “You take right, I'll take left.”

They faced opposite directions, looking for the source of the scream to appear. They didn't have to wait long. Less than a minute after the sound, several diseased appeared, moving at a shambling run towards them. Serafin waited for them to get within his accurate range, then began to pick them off. His deadly accuracy took one, two, then three in the heads.

Unfortunately, they merely stuttered for an instant and then kept running.

“Wait, what?” Natalie readied her machete as the infected drew closer. “They didn't die!”

Serafin switched his aim to shoot at their knees. That proved to be a better choice, stumbling them and dropping them to the ground. Deprived of their primary mobility, they started crawling towards the two.

“Do they seem tougher, or is it just me?” Natalie said.

“When in doubt, chop off their heads.” Serafin told her over his shoulder. He drew a large combat knife and shifted his pistol to his left hand, which was still bandaged from the bullet wound.

A second later, the infected were on them.

Natalie had already shrugged her large pack off, in order to give her more mobility. Trying to ignore the pain from her chest, she took the first one running. Dodging to the side, she clotheslined him with her machete, easily taking off his head. The next one ran into her, grabbing her right arm. She smashed a fist into its head, driving her knee into the thing's stomach. It stumbled off of her and she split its skull, kicking it away. Behind her, Serafin was grappling with another, his knife buried in its neck. He ripped the blade through, putting his pistol to its throat and blowing its esophagus out. A grunt of pain escaped his lips from the rebound of the gun into his wounded hand. Seeing the next one coming, he switched his pistol to his right hand and slammed his foot against its chest, driving it to the ground. Pinning it down, he fired four times into its skull, splashing gray matter into the brick pavement. Natalie, seeing one about to jump him, slapped it with her machete, its head sailing through the air and rolling away as the body collapsed on Serafin. He shrugged it off and stood up.

“Well.” He looked around at the bodies, calmly wiping his bloodstained knife against one zombie's shirt. “That was fun. Thanks for getting that one.”

“No problem,” Natalie replied. She tensed up as another howl sounded through the air. “I...don't suppose you have any grenades left, do you?”

“One.”

“Hallelujah.”

Serafin gestured at the White House. “Let's pay our president a visit. How's your chest holding up?”

“Fine.” Natalie picked up her backpack and buckled it back on.

A few minutes later, they were on the White House doorsteps. Natalie looked up at the towering entryway. “Man. I've only seen this place on TV.”

Serafin pushed on the door. It swung silently open. He looked around. “I don't like this.”

“Your opinion is accepted, but unnecessary.” Natalie quipped.

“Shut it.”

They walked through the spacious hallways, boots treading softly on the lush carpet. Serafin gestured up. “Let's check the Oval Office.”

Natalie giggled as they walked up the stairs. “You know, this is highly illegal.”

Serafin stopped and looked at her. “Does this face,” he said, his voice deadpan, “look like one that cares?”

She patted him on the cheek. “You need to shave.”

When they reached the top floor, it was a short stroll to the Oval Office. Serafin walked up to the door and tried the handle. Locked.

He sighed. “You could try knocking,” Natalie said.

Serafin gave her a look like Mr. Bean trying to understand German. He raised a hand and rapped twice on the door. “Happy? At least we still have manners.”

Natalie opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off when a voice sounded from the other side of the door. “Who's there?”

She looked from the door to Serafin. “Are you a ventriloquist, too?”

Serafin wasn't paying attention. “Is someone in there?”

“Yes,” a woman's voice replied. “But I'm afraid I can't open the door. Would you mind?”

Natalie hacked a couple times at the handle, chopping it off. The door swung inward. The sight that greeted their eyes was gruesome.

Bodies were everywhere. A man who Natalie could only assume was the president was slumped over his desk, face down. Three others who looked like former Secret Service agents were collapsed in front of the desk, their bodies ripped and mutilated. Seven other people who looked like infected were lying dispersed across the room, four of whom were lying almost on top of the agents. Blood was spattered across the furniture and walls, and a rank smell permeated the room.

The owner of the voice they had heard was sitting on the receptionist's couch. It was a woman, dressed in the white lab coat of a doctor. Beside her were lying three pistols, which Natalie assumed had belonged to the Secret Service agents. Her face was gaunt and drawn, pale with malnourishment – but Natalie could tell she was a very striking woman, with dark brown hair and matching eyes.

“Thank goodness.” Her voice was hoarse. “I thought I was dead for sure...”

Serafin walked over, nudging aside the bodies with his boot. “What happened here?”

“The disease...we were trapped in...they turned.”

Natalie shrugged off her pack. “It smells horrible in here.”

“Well, sorry. I haven't had the chance to take a shower for awhile,” Serafin said. He set down his backpack and drew out an MRE and some water. “You look starved.” He gestured for Natalie to come over. “Would you help her eat while I do some cleaning?”

The woman was very weak. Natalie spooned every bite to her mouth, adding water to help it go down. “Chew slowly, don't just swallow it. I realize you're hungry.” She reached over and looked at the woman's nameplate. It read Dr. Bethany Harshik, Director of Biological Research Division. “Bethany. Can you tell us what exactly happened here?”

Bethany swallowed, sighing. “Thank you for the food.” She looked around at the carnage, which Serafin was trying to diminish. He dragged the bodies to a closet and threw them in. “Where did you come from?”

“I came from California, and him from Washington State,” Natalie said.

Bethany's eyes widened. “You – you came that far? Wow.” She shifted in her seat. “You must be immune, then.”

“To what?”

“The disease, of course.” Bethany held up her hands and looked at them. They were shaking. She folded them in her lap. “I...I suppose I should tell you...I'm the one responsible for it.”

“You what?” Serafin stopped his cleanup and stared at her in surprise.

“Let me explain.” Bethany took a deep breath. “I'm head of the biological research division. That means I investigate everything from GMO to the ingredients in modern paint, and learn how to make them better. As such, I also do a lot of testing in new virus strains. In the process of one of these tests, I accidentally created...this disease.” She sighed. “Two test rats bred and their offspring combined the strains contained by their parents. It was quite fascinating. Unfortunately, we lost one of them. It wasn't until about a month later this new affliction started appearing.”

“So can you tell us what all it is? Do you know how to fight it?” Serafin asked.

“It's a very vicious disease,” Bethany replied. “The virus is a type of fungus. It's absorbed by either touching it or inhaling it. It imbeds itself in the nervous system, breaking it down. It eventually progresses so far as to invade the brain, killing its host. It can then control the dead body, but eventually – I speculate – it'll run out of resources and simply die out.”

Natalie exchanged glances with Serafin. “All we have to do is wait, and it'll go away?”

“Yes.”

“So...what makes us immune?” Serafin finished cramming the bodies into the closet and walked over, sitting down in the president's bloodstained chair.

“A certain mutation, or genetic twitch, I think,” Bethany replied. “Very rare.”

“We've noticed.”

They all started as a howl rang through the building. Natalie looked over at Serafin. “Well, crud.”

“Did they follow you here?”

“It sounds like it.” Serafin grabbed one of the pistols on the couch, throwing another to Natalie and leaving the last for Bethany. “I guess we'd better hold them at the stairs.”

He walked to the broad stairway and looked down the winding steps to the bottom. No infected were visible...yet. But suddenly he could hear them...and the muttering groans that drifted up indicated a large mass had gathered below.

“We're trapped,” he remarked.

“Um, guys? You might want to see this.” Bethany called from the office.

The two went back and found Bethany looking out the window. Below, on the lawn, was a huge crowd of them. While not having any purposeful movement, many were drifting towards the house.

“Crud.”

“Can I say I don't like this?”

“Shut up.”

Serafin held his head in his hands. “Bethany, there's a way to get on the roof, correct?”

“Yes...there's a stairwell at the other end of the hall.”

“Good.” He motioned to Bethany. “You're obviously not very strong at the moment, so I want you to head up there. We'll get there when we can't hold them any longer, and I'll use my last remaining grenade to collapse the stairwell.”

“Then what?”

“One step at a time.” Serafin jogged back over to the stairs heading down. When he looked down this time, he could see infected making their way up. “Hurry and go – we'll have company in a minute or so.”

When Bethany had disappeared to the roof, Natalie and Serafin descended to the level below theirs and listened to the wails of the infected as they stumbled up.

“How's the chest?” Serafin asked.

“Holding up. And your hand?”

“Good enough for a fight.” Serafin clicked back the hammers of both pistols he now carried. “Did I mention I'm scared the crap out?”

Natalie looked over at him. His face was impassive, calm. His hands weren't shaking at all, in contrast to hers, which felt like they had vibrators attached to them. “You don't look it.”

Serafin took a deep breath. “Um, Natalie?”

“Yes?”

“Now may not be the best time, but...I like you.”

Natalie blinked. 

She noticed he was staring expectantly at her, and a light blush touched her cheeks. “Um...thanks.”

"Sorry for being so abrupt. I realize we've only been friends for, like, a few days, but-"

"Er...let's talk about his later," Natalie interrupted, the blush getting darker. "I think we have more pressing business to attend to."

"Right. Sorry."

A minute later, they were staring into the dead eyes of a seething mass.

Natalie and Serafin had assembled several pieces of furniture, and as the mob of infected approached, they shoved them down. Tumbling down, the furniture crushed a handful of them and provided a small blockage point which limited the passage of the infected. Serafin started firing away, aiming for the legs. Natalie joined in the gunfire, adding her pistol to Serafin's two. Eventually, however, the infected pushed their way up the stairs, forcing Natalie and Serafin back.

Then Natalie heard a click, and her pistol slide locked back. “Out!” she shouted to Serafin, hurling her pistol into the face of an infected below her. She advanced a few steps, closing the gap between her and the horde. Since she had the advantage of height, she had leverage on her side; decapitating one, she kicked him-or her-down, knocking back a few of the infected. She stabbed another through the throat, punching it in the face in order to knock it off her blade. To her side, Serafin was also out of ammunition. He had his combat knife out, and was methodically tearing the infected apart, not hesitating to literally punch his hands into them and tear out their insides.

Slowly, but surely, the weight of the mob began to tell. Natalie and Serafin retreated step by step, until they were back at the top floor.

“When I tell you,” shouted Serafin over the noise of the mass, “run for the stairwell: I'll follow you.”

“Will you be able to make it?” Natalie shouted back.

“NOW!”

She struck the infected in front of her with a massive two-handed strike, cutting it clean in half. Then she turned and ran. The door to the metal stairway that led to the roof was already hanging open, courtesy of Bethany. She took one look back and saw Serafin sprinting towards her.

“Get going! Go!” he yelled. The horde was, quite literally, on his heels. Natalie charged up the stairs, bursting out onto the roof, which was bathed in bright sunlight. Bethany was standing by the door, her pistol out and ready. By her were several metallic cases.

Serafin followed close behind Natalie, dashing out of the stairwell. Natalie grabbed the ledge above the door and double-kicked the infected that was right behind him, knocking the rest down the stairs temporarily.

“You've got that grenade?” Natalie asked a panting, sweaty Serafin.

He held it up. Natalie grabbed it and strode over to the stairwell. Bethany put a hand on her arm. “Here, add these.” She gestured to a couple of metallic boxes by her side.

Natalie shrugged and shoved them down. They were extremely heavy, and once again knocked down the approaching infected with great effectiveness. She pulled the pin, threw the grenade, and ran.

Three seconds later, there was a huge bang and the entire stairwell erupted in a column of flame, smoke billowing up to the sky. The door and stairs collapsed in a cloud of dust and rush of heat.

“Well, we're somewhat safe now.” Serafin remarked.

“What were those boxes?” Natalie asked.

“AA gun ammunition,” he replied, gesturing to the side. She looked over and saw two very large anti-aircraft cannons pointed at the sky, more boxes of ammunition by them.

Natalie suddenly felt weak, and abruptly sat down on the concrete roof. Serafin walked over to her and sat, putting an arm around her shoulders. “You did good.”

She felt the blush returning at his touch, but tried to ignore it and shook her head in disbelief. “I thought we weren't going to make it.”

Bethany, watching them in silence, spoke up. “Well, what happens now?”

Serafin patted Natalie on the shoulder and stood, walking over to the roof. He looked over the edge, then walked around it. “That explosion set the house on fire.” He said. “It'll attract every infected person for miles around. We need to get clear, and fast.”

“How?”

“There's a way down, here,” Serafin replied, pointing down from where he was. “It's a bit tricky, but it should be no problem.”

Natalie took a few deep breaths, regaining her composure. She stood up. “Right, you first.”

Serafin threw her a smirk. “Yeah, thanks.” He swung over the edge and disappeared. Natalie walked over and looked down, seeing him making quick work of the descent. Several yards from the ground, he jumped, absorbing the impact with his knees.

“I'm not sure if I can make that,” Bethany said. “Not in my weak condition.”

“Sure you can.” Natalie assured her. “I'll help you down, and Serafin can stabilize you at the bottom.”

Bethany looked skeptical, but swung out and began to mirror Serafin's path of descent. Halfway down, she faltered, not being able to see the next hold.

“To your right and down a little,” Serafin called. “You might have to stretch some.”

Bethany extended her foot, feeling for the indicated hold. It met nothing but air. She stretched further, attempting to reach it, then without warning her hand slipped, the sudden weight shift jerking her other hold loose. She tumbled down, screaming. Her scream abruptly cut off as she impacted the ground. Serafin, too late to arrest her fall, knelt over her concernedly.

“Is she okay?” Natalie called from the roof.

Serafin looked up at her. Even from the distance between them, Natalie could see the expression on his face. She swung over and quickly made the descent, landing beside them.

“She's injured her spinal chord.” Serafin muttered softly. Bethany's eyes were closed and her breathing came out in short, ragged bursts. “And probably has a concussion. It's too late.”

Natalie clenched her fist and pounded it into the ground. She cursed quietly. “Why does this have to keep happening?”

A distant howl sounded through the air. They looked around. The approaching figures of the zombies could be seen, coming towards the burning mansion. Natalie started feeling the heat from their position.

“We need to move.”

Natalie looked at the still form of Bethany. “We can't just leave her!”

Serafin shook his head. “Natalie.” He held out a hand.

Suddenly she realized his intent. “No...”

“I could do it with what I have, but it wouldn't be as fast or painless.”

She hesitated, then handed over her machete, walking a few paces away and crossing her arms, facing towards the now-setting sun.

So beautiful. She thought as she viewed the bright, vibrant rays it shot over the horizon. I wonder how many people can't see it anymore? How many have succumbed? Died?

Serafin placed a hand on her shoulder. “Let's get moving.” He handed her back her machete.

She took a deep breath, trying to shake the sad feeling. “That helicopter still has some gas, right?”

“Yeah, plenty.”

“Good.” Natalie glanced over her shoulder at the burning White House. “Let's get out of here.”

They set off in a half-jog, half-run towards the heli. As they had parked it quite near, it wasn't that long of a distance. A howl sounded close to their right, spurring them on into a full run.

Halfway there, the place erupted in bodies. Hordes upon hordes of the creatures swarmed into the square, the muttering and moaning rising and falling like an atonal chorus. Natalie and Serafin broke into an all-out sprint, pushing their already tired legs. Adrenaline began pumping again, and they approached the helicopter rapidly.

Just feet away from the heli, the infected were on them.

“Get IN!” Serafin yelled over the deafening roar of the mass. “Keep them out of the holding bay!”

Natalie swung into the open helicopter doors. She planted a foot on an infected that had tried climbing in, cutting his skull open and shoving him off. Serafin jumped in behind her, fending off a couple of the infected that had followed him. Natalie took the opportunity to shut one door of the helicopter, leaving just one side exposed.

“Hold them off!” Serafin tossed her his knife and clambered into the cockpit. Natalie began hacking at the zombies who tried climbing up and into the bay – it reminded her absurdly of the game where you had to bop heads with a hammer as fast they appeared.

Except if she missed one, it probably meant she was dead. No pressure.

The rotors of the Blackhawk roared to life, slowly building up speed. The downdraft created by them helped Natalie much in fending the intruding infected off, but by sheer force of numbers they were beginning to overwhelm her defense. Finally, she felt the helicopter begin to rise from the ground.

Unfortunately, the small distraction caused by the sudden movement allowed two infected to climb into the bay, and several more attached themselves to the assist bar used to help people climb in.

As they lifted off the ground, Natalie grabbed onto a holding strap and swung her machete in her other hand, Serafin's knife gripped between her teeth. The infected, not having the same sure footing, stumbled erratically towards her.

A sudden lurch jolted one forward into her. Natalie jerked in surprise and panic, slamming the butt of the machete into its side. The infected tried to grab hold of her for support, but she severed its arms at the elbow and it tumbled out, falling to the now far-below pavement.

The last one, what looked like a female teen, lurched towards her. A sick smile was pasted across her almost unrecognizable rotting face. She reached for Natalie, her nerveless hands stretching out to grab her.

Natalie reached up and grabbed the holding strap with both hands, kicking out. Both feet connected with the approaching infected, propelling her out of the open door. Natalie switched her hold to the sliding door handle, getting rid of the infected still clinging onto the bar assist. She closed it and collapsed, relieved, to the floor.

A few minutes later Serafin knelt over her. “You all right? No injuries?”

Natalie closed her eyes and gasped out a half-chuckle. “I'm exhausted.”

“Me, too.”

Natalie felt the last ounces of adrenaline fading away. Suddenly she was acutely aware of all the bruises, scratches, and aches she had accumulated over the recent days. She struggled upright.

“Well?” She looked up at Serafin. “What now, Ranger boy?”

Serafin grinned tiredly. He touched a finger to her chest and drew a smiley face in the accumulated dirt, blood and gore. “Well,” he said, musing. “You pick. Would you like to live in the South, North, or Hawaii?”

She managed a tired laugh. Serafin helped her to his feet, then suddenly hugged her, close.

“Each other is all we have left, isn't it?” he whispered into her ear.

Natalie closed her eyes, tears of relief, sorrow, and happiness flowing. “You better not die on me.”

“I promise.”

“Me, too.”