Young Writers Society

Matt Walker

"Fair enough." I took a moment to adjust my bag and bow before realizing that Samuel didn't want me behind him. Can't begrudge him that. I've had my share of treacheries as well. For now, I nodded in acknowledgment and stepped forwards to take the lead, heading down the road for a ways before turning the corner the girl had disappeared around. The wind began to pick up once more as we left the cover of the buildings and I pulled a worn ski mask from my back pocket. Pulling it on, I took my bow from my back and nocked an arrow. Better safe than sorry.

We walked for some time until the buildings we passed grew smaller and smaller till there weren't any more. "I think we've reached the edge of the town." I look down the straight road that stretches into the distance. "Geez, I can't see anyone for miles. She can't be that fast, right? We weren't that far behind her, unless she's just been running at a dead sprint all the way, but...." I turn to Samuel. "You think she went another way? Maybe doubled back from that corner to throw one or both of us off? She seemed pretty freaked out when I showed up, so maybe she just wanted to disappear again..."

Wyvern

The sound of voices and static wakes me up. I sit up and look around, but don't see any signs of another person. It's still dark, but my speeding heart rate will make it impossible to go back to sleep. Sighing softly, I pack up my things and sling my pack over my shoulders. Rubbing my eyes to get the sleep out of them, I start pushing my way through the undergrowth.

The darkness is foreboding, a stiff breeze sending shivers down my spine. I pause in a slight clearing to pull a jacket out of my travel pack, when a sound makes my hair's stand on end. I freeze in place, hand slowly moving to my bow laying on the ground next to my pack. The quiver of arrows is on my back, I just need my bow. Another growl makes me pause and slowly lift my head.

Something we humans seem to do when faced with such an imposing danger like the disease, is forget about all the other dangers in the world. After I'd left home, and realised that I can't get infected, I felt invisible. That was until I was brought down by the common flu. It made me realise that no, I'm not invincible. I can get sick, which means I can die. But for two years I've been as fit and healthy as anyone can be in such a time as this, and I guess I'd grown stupid. Once again I'd forgotten about the dangers of the rest of the world, because there are so few creatures not Infected.

My eyes meet the sharp gaze of a snow white cat. A snow white big cat, with sharp, yellowed teeth and silvery flashing eyes. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life, so elegant, standing there with its body coiled like a spring, ready to pounce, mouth ajar, ready to bite, claws out, ready to latch onto soft flesh. I wonder what this would look like to a bystander. Two white creatures silently staring at each other in the dark.

The big cat hisses and leaps. I squeal and fall out of the way, its body hitting my side. I roll through the leaves and quickly jump to my feet, reaching for my knife. Oh but shit! If dropped it back at the house! I watch in horror as the big cat's paw snaps my bow in two as it steps on it. The cat mewls and looks down at the shattered wood, lifting its paw and shaking it. I whip out two arrows from the sheathe on my back and hold them like knives. My other two knives are in my pack, because I never liked having more than one blade on me at a time.

I'm so damn stupid! I've survived the disease only to be killed by a giant cat because I wasn't prepared and forgot I am only human.

It drops low on its paws and hisses at me again. I crouch in a defensive position and let out a snarl of my own. The cat stalks around me, assessing me, probably looking for all my aeak points. Fear clutches my heart, making it beat faster and faster with every stroke. With each step the cat takes, the less chances I see of me surviving this. The creature looks well fed, and even though there is gunk around its eyes and it's nose is shiny with snot, it looks strong and pretty pissed off.

"You know we're the same, right?" I find myself telling the cat. It hisses at the sound of my voice. "No, really, we're both trapped in this hell, and the only way out is death. And though we're blessed because we don't get infected, we still fall prey to stupid things like the flu. And our own kind seems to want us dead. If only you could understand me, we'd make an awesome team."

The cat yowls at me and leaps forward. With a help I dive through two trees and push myself to my feet. The arrows in my quiver go everywhere, and I rush to pick them up when something hits my back. I'm pushed to the ground by a giant paw, claws digging into my skin. I howl in pain and reach around, jabbing an arrow into the cat. It screeches and leaps backwards, the weight on my back disappearing. I roll over and hiss in pain as the wounds on my back are stretched. The cat shakes its head back and forth, the arrow jabbed into its eye. It manages to catch it on a tree branch, snapping the arrow in half. I swallow thickly and use a tree to pull myself to my feet. The cat growls, stalking forward, it's huge paws snapping twigs and crackling the dead leaves on the ground.

Something shifts in my mind. I now have an advantage, because the cat is blind in one eye. Doesn't mean it can't kill me still. My back will also be a bit of a hindrance, and without any weapons except the three arrows in my hands, I don't have a lot to offer.

The cat crouches down, ready to pounce. I don't wait for it to lock onto me, I dart off through the trees. The cat growls and takes chase. I slide under a fallen branch and push my way through some thick leaves. The cat's heavy pawsteps behind me spur me on. I can see a glimpse of light through the trees and run as fast as I can. Suddenly the trees around me disperse and I'm stumbling onto a road cracked by time and roots rising through the dirt. I spin around and leap to the side just as the cat comes barrelling out behind me. It yowls angrily at me and leaps forward.

I dance to the side, happy to have more space in which I can maneuver. The cat spins around on its haunches and swipes a huge, white paw at me. I leap back and jab its paw with an arrow. The tip breaks off into the pad of its foot, sending the cat careening back. With a hiss of my own, I leap forward and run the broken arrow into its side. The cat curls around to snap at me, and I jab an arrow into his throat. It makes a horrid noise as it backs away from me, throwing it's head back and forth. With one final, feeble attempt to attack, the cat leaps forward. I skip to the side and ram my remaining arrow straight into its chest, right into its heart. The cat moans and stumbles away before falling over, dead. I drop to the ground beside it, catching my breath.

I'll need to find some clean water, and quickly, to dress these wounds. And now I need a new pack and weapons. I have no intention of going back in there unarmed, in case there are other creatures lurking.

With a disgruntled sigh, I pull the arrow from the cats chest and stare at the body in dismay. If I had a knife I could skin it, and take some meat. If I had any of my supplies I would use everything I could take. Instead, I have to leave the beast here. I mutter a few words of apology to the body before standing up.

My feet drag as I walk down the road. I walk through the dark, listening for any screams to alert me to the whereabouts of an Infected. There is a scream in the distance, but it's too far away to be any danger. I shuffle on, arms wrapped around my body as the cold seeps through my tattered clothes. My back feels stiff, pain jabbing through me every step I take. After walking for what seems like forever, I come to a bridge. The water below is moving quickly, and doesn't look too dirty. After waiting to see if anything moves in the shadows, I stumble down to the water and take a drink.

Pain sears through my back as the torn skin protests the movement. I take off my jacket and shirt, and after a second of hesitation, my boots and pants come off too. I dip my hands into the water and press them against the wounds on my back, crying out in pain. My hands come away from my back, spots of blood sticking out on my pale skin. At least the wounds aren't too bad.

Biting my lip, I pick up my jacket and inspect it. I'll need to keep this, it's my only source of warmth. I take my shirt and rip off the hem, turning it into a makeshift bandage. I wrap the material around my torso, hissing in pain at the pressure on my back. Standing up, I brush the dirt off my skin and pull my pants on. I bend over to wash my hands in the water before taking my shirt to pull it on over my head. I barely have it on when I hear a sound behind me. I can't help but groan as I pick up the arrow in the diet and spin around, ready to face whatever is behind me.

Please let it just be a rabbit.

Looking back at the town. Samuel tried to guess where the woman might have gone. "Too many variables to account for," Samuel stated looking over the roads. "Searching the town would take too long. We have to get going before the Infected start getting really active."

The yowl of a large cat sounded through the air. Samuel immediately turned to the west, where the sound came from. "That doesn't sound good." Then came the cry of a woman. "That definitely doesn't sound good!" Samuel bolted off through the forest. All he had was a direction. No idea how far or if there was a different direction.

Rushing out to a small clearing he found the remains of the woman's bow. "It seems our friend ran into some trouble," he said more to himself than to anyone that might be listening. Following the path of broken branches he rushed through the forest until he found the woman that had been ready to put an arrow through his head. Looking to the dead cat then back at the woman he sighed. "You hurt?" he asked pulling off his pack.

Lowette

"Low! Lowette Amkris!" A startling scream filled his mind as he forced his weak body up. He sat up against the tree as he positioned himself on the high tree branch he was on.

Grumbles below him filled his head as dizziness rushed over him. Low rubbed his temples, hearing the screams. He looked around, trying to find the easiest way to run. He gently took the rope he had in his hands and slid down carefully. He jumped down and untied the bottom of the rope, pulling it down with him.

Low looked around once more and saw a pathway through a large forest. His vision was blurred, but he knew he could try and make it farther.

Low placed his tanned hand on the handle of his gun that was attached to his belt. His stomach growled, aching for food. Not now. He thought. He had to get a moves on before he was caught red handed.

With a few steps forward, he could hear voices, but again... he ignored them. Not thinking twice, he began running. Running so fast that he would trip if he even made one mistake in his foot pattern. Screams of the Infected surrounded him and he was trapped.

"Lowette Amkris! How dare you joke about the dead!" His mother screamed. With a raise of her hand, a sharp, stinging pain filled his cheek.

"Mum, it's not a joke! I swear it! I saw them roaming!" Low let out a small cry, his hand rubbing over the now red area on his cheek. A tear trickled down his face.

"Low, stop your nonsense!" She yelled back. How had she not heard? Their world has been hell for nine years already. These...These creatures roamed the streets and bit people, infecting them. As she yelled, she only attracted these creatures. Loud noises was their calling.

Low's mom forgot to close the door in the back and suddenly three Infected stumbled into their house. Low stared at them in shock, trembling as he stepped away. His mom looked at him confused, but before she had time to react, the Infected toppled her and bit her neck, arm, and leg.

A piercing scream filled Low's mind. "HELP! HELP ME! LOWETTE GET HELP YOU DUMBASS! GO!" She cried out. She had always called him names and that was the last thing she ever said to him. The last little croak of her voice he heard. Low shook his head and ran to the closet, grabbing the safety back and bolted out the front door.

Lowette shook the memory out of his head. That was six years ago. He was only ten when he watched his mother get ripped to shreds, limb by limb by these horrid creatures. There was nothing he could do. He would've died, and right then...his life was important to him. He regrets it now. He regrets leaving his mother to die, but she was already a goner when the first bite was left on her pale skin. There was nothing he could do.

The screams of the Infected got closer and he circled, looking around. He pulled out his gun and raised it. Still clueless as to what these things were, he decided to shoot for the brain if they got close. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The grumble of an Infected sounded behind him and he turned, opening his eyes and pulling the trigger. The Infected stumbled backward as blood splattered against Low's face. The gunshot was loud enough to attract more so he decided to run once more.

That's all he ever did. Run.

Jeremy woke in the early hours as the morning, as the sun's first rays of light broke through the trees, and the birds began singing. Neither of these were what woke him though. He had gotten used to sleeping through the dawn chorus, and he was certainly tired enough. No, what woke him was the gunshot, loud and invasive, tearing through the forest, and making the birds fall silent for a second, until the echos died away.
Once had got over his initial shock, Jeremy was not impressed. Really? A gun? The only people who had used guns that he had previously encountered were gangs of opportunist bandits, but they seemed to have all died off within the first year or so. No, guns were a bad idea. Really effective, but the sheer noise of them, even with a suppressor, was enough to attract any of the infected within a mile at least. Anyway, he didn't want to meet any of them. Within ten minutes he had packed his equipment, and was walking briskly. His only problem was, he had no idea where the gunshot had come from. The forest was still dark, and he still had no idea where he was. No matter however, chances were, if he continued walking, he should get away from it.
At that moment he heard the sounds of movement, breaking twigs and undergrowth, from a short distance to his left. He had nowhere to run, so in a moment of desperation, he quickly shinned up the nearest tree, hiding in the branches.

Matt Walker

I nod at Samuel's response. He's right of course. The Infected would be getting more active with all that had happened at the house, and they did not want to be there at the same time as those creatures. A yowl emanates from the trees, and Samuel's head flicks towards the sound. "That doesn't sound good." Definitely not. The feline screech is soon followed by a woman's yell. "That definitely doesn't sound good!" Samuel takes off running into the forest, and I am close on his tail. If that girl is hurt or killed then that's one less person with us on the journey to England.

We ran through the trees blindly, and luckily, following Samuel, we came to a clearing where the girl's bow lay. Or at least, what was left of it. Her bag and a number of other items littered the still-warm campsite; she couldn't have been gone long. Whatever made that noise must have chased her away.... or dragged her away... A sudden pang of guilt and... sadness? raced through me. She can't be dead. We only saw her a little while ago... I shook my head and followed Samuel as he started off once more. Of course she isn't, that girl was a fighter, that much was clear.

We headed down a path of broken branches and trampled leaves and bushes until Samuel stopped and I came up beside him as he set his pack down. "It seems our friend ran into some trouble." Looking ahead, there she was, a massive white cat laying dead a ways away with a broken arrow shaft poking from its eye. "You hurt?" Samuel asked.

I snapped back into focus and removed my own pack, already pulling my medical kit from the bag and taking a few tentative steps forwards. "You should let me have a look at that." I say, gesturing to the glistening, dark red stains already soaking through her freshly wrapped makeshift bandages. The mistrust that I had seen before is still clear on her face and I lower my hands. "Please. Those scratches might get infected if they aren't cleaned properly. I have antibiotics in here." I hold up my kit again. "You don't trust me-... Us. That's fine. You don't have to. Just hear us out. After you left, my radio went off. There are other survivors, a group even. It wasn't a long message, but they said that England is safe. They're headed there now and we're going to follow them. I don't know about you, but safe sounds pretty damn great to me, and we could use someone with aim like yours with us. It's a long way from here to there, as I'm sure you're aware..." Still, her face betrays no emotion and she holds a single arrow menacingly. "My name is Matthias, er, just Matt, actually. This is Samuel." Nothing. I sigh.

I hold up my hands and pull my bow from my back, setting it on the ground between myself and the girl before doing the same with my knives, and finally my two pistols. "Just let me see if I can fix those cuts up. Then you can decide what you want to do for yourself. We aren't going to try to make you do anything you don't want to."

I smirk and nod at the arrow. "Not that we could anyway." I look at her directly now and hold out the white kit again. "May I? I know a thing or two about treatments."

Wyvern

I look between the two men and then the array of weapons on the ground before me. Was that really smart to put all his weapons on display like that? Right within my grasp too? Then again, Samuel probably has some weapons hidden away, not to mention the gun he has. If I grabbed a knife he'd probably have it out and aimed at my face within seconds. So maybe that isn't such a good idea. Yet Matthias ... Matt seems content to trust me enough not to try and slit his throat within the next two seconds.

One ...

Two ...

"My name is Wyvern," I tell them both, and the look of relief that crosses Matt's face is almost sickening. "But you can shove that kit up your arse. I don't need your help."

"I wouldn't go so far as to say you don't need our help, see I'm pretty good with medic stuff, my parents knew a thing or two. Before all this started, of course. I can help you. And your wound needs to be cleaned properly with the antibiotics I have. Whatever you've got wrapped around your wounds now won't do you any good," he rattles off, smiling.

I give him an incredulous look. "Do you ever shut up?" I snap.

Samuel huffs. "Just accept our help," he grunts.

"Take advice from you, Sammy?" I sneer. "I'll tale my chances with my shitty bandages and arrow, thank you very much."

Samuel doesn't look too pleased that I called him 'Sammy'. This only makes me smirk. I glare at Matt and push myself to my feet, pain jabbing through my back, making me cry out and drop to my knees. Son of a bitch! That really hurt.

"Ready to listen?" Samuel asks.

"I have ... Yes," I nod, deciding not to argue with the tall man, who looks like he could snap me in half without even thinking twice about it. "But an open road might not be such a great idea to patch me up."

"Yeah, there's a forest right there," Matt says, pointing to the tall trees as he begins packing up his weapons.

"Ahh ... No," I give him a cold stare. "No way am I going back in there."

"Shame," Samuel hefts me up off the ground and slings me over his shoulder. "Because you don't have a choice in the matter."

"Put me down!" I squeal. "Ow! I said put me down you son of a –" I punch his shoulder, fist bouncing off metal. I growl in pain and try to give him a glare. "What the shit?"

"Armour," he huffs. "Which say?" He looks at Matt, who's giving me an amused look. I flip him off.

"Forest, that way," he says. "Back to where we saw Wyvern's stuff."

"Got it," Samuel nods and we set off.

Struggling is pointless and extremely painful. My back has tensed up from lack of movement, and it makes breathing difficult. Matt walks behind Samuel, watching me with his steel grey eyes. He reminds me of the greyed dog I once saw. It was very sick and skinny, but gave me a kind look anyway. A thick collar had been dragging it's head down, and I knew the humane thing to do was to take it off. On the collar was a tag that said 'Doggo'. Doggo was overjoyed that I'd removed his thick collar, but didn't follow me. He seemed set on his own journey.

Why couldn't Matt be more like Doggo? Or maybe this is my good karma for helping Doggo, only instead of having a heavy collat taken off my neck, I'm getting my back bandaged up. I'm still upset about that cat pelt not being used. I'd love a coat that thick and fluffy.

We reach the clearing with my stuff scattered everywhere and my shattered bow. A small hiccup of pain escapes my lips as Samuel drops me onto the ground and goes to lean against a tree. Matt leans down in front of me with his medical kit in hand.

"I'll need to ... Whoa!" Matt's eyes widen to the size of saucers as I take off my jacket and torn shirt, turning around so make back is to him. "Y-yeah that works."

"Make it quick, it hurts," I grouch.

Matt doesn't say anything as he takes the torn fabric off my back. After inspecting the wound, there is a second of freezing silence when I feel pressure on my back and the wounds flare up in pain. I clench my teeth and scrunch my eyes closed, growling low in pain. When the searing pain becomes a hot throbbing, Matt places something soothingly cold over my lower back before lifting my arms to wrap a clean, white bandage around my lower torso.

"There we go," he chirps. "That should ward off any infections. I'll have to change it every couple of days until the wounds have properly scabbed over. I'd refrain from doing too much physical activity and such, too. You don't want to open the wounds too much. I guess rest is in order, but I doubt we'll be getting much of that, huh?"

"Matt," I begin, voice low and husky from pain. "I appreciate what you did, so thank you," I turn around to face him. "But can you at least shut the hell up for five minutes?"

He looks taken aback, and nods sullenly. Feeling slightly guilty, I move over to my trashed pack and pull out a clean shirt and jacket. Both men avoid looking at me until I'm properly dressed. I dig through the pack for my two remaining knives and strap them to my pants. After packing up my scattered belongings, I give the boys a harsh glare before moving over to a spot away from them to lie down on the ground. I use my pack as a pillow and curl up around it. Closing my eyes to stop my roiling emotions from taking control, I focus on my uneven breathing until I finally start to drift off to sleep.

Having found the girl, though difficult, was going to be the easy part of this. It wasn't that hard to tell. The girl had some bad wounds on her back. Cuts like those from a wild cat like the one that nearly had her for dinner could have been fatal. He huffed at her remark about Matt not shutting up. "Just accept our help," he grunts.

Samuel narrowed his eyes when he was called Sammy. There was only one person that he had ever let call him that, and this fast mouthed brat wasn't them. Her attempt to stand seemed to strike a note with her. "Ready to listen?" he asked.

At her blatant refusal to go to the only place where there was protection, Samuel had had enough. "Shame," he said hefting the girl onto his shoulder. "Because you don't have a choice in the matter." Her squirming did make it a little more difficult to get her into the woods. A smirk crept on his face when she punched directly onto one of the hidden plates in his shirt. Probably made her knuckles red from that. "Armor. Unlike you I'm not immune. Which way?" he said turning to Matt.

Heading to where she was previously camped out, Samuel was less then gentle when they arrived. It wasn't that he was really pissed off with her. He just didn't care what she thought about him, so there was no point in being friendly.

Samuel made it a point to look away as Wyvern was getting treated. Being right in front of her was not the most ideal place he could have chosen, but it gave him a full view of where they had come from....just in case something was following. Samuel was going to address her rather ungrateful attitude toward Matt, despite her words of appreciation, but she had nearly been killed twice that day and then almost forced to get some first aid. It could slide.

With Wyvern asleep he patted Matt on the shoulder. "Be right back," he said as he disappeared where they came from. A few minutes later he came back, dragging the dead cat with him. No sense in wasting good meat he thought. Along with the cat he was dragging another person with him. "He's still alive. I found him a little ways away from where we found her. No mold from first glance. Oh...and he's got a dog." As if on cue the wolf came out with a small growl. "Oh knock it off. I'm trying to help him." Samuel growled back at the wolf. "Seems like everything is ungrateful today."

Piling up some fallen branches, he started a fire. He had noticed that the things didn't have very good eyesight so he wasn't too worried about them seeing the fire and the smoke it gave off would help disguise their scent.

With one of his knives he began cleaning the cat. First by stringing it up over one of the trees and then bleeding it so that he could skin it and start cutting out strips of meat. Best way to do it so that it would keep was to make jerky. Placing the strips by the fire to cook, he began pulling out the bones. Bone came in handy for fishing hooks, spears, and arrow heads. Something that Wyvern and Matt were going to need. He collected the bones in the skin and set it beside Wyvern. She was in need of something useful. The organs he took off into the forest so the smell of blood would be away from their fire.

When he came back he looked to Matt. "Don't know if you have done shifts before. With these things getting a little more active we're gonna have to keep watch. four hour shifts. I'll take the first watch."

Matt Walker

I really hope I didn't just hand this girl the keys to killing me... She's staring at my weapons with a strange look on her face, probably sizing up the risk vs. rewards and whether Samuel will watch my back. Probably not. I inwardly smirk. He doesn't really seem like the protective or sentimental type, but here's hoping...

The silence stretches on and on until finally she speaks. "My name is Wyvern." My face must've betrayed my relief as she returns one of disgust. "But you can shove that kit up your arse. I don't need your help."

Still hostile, then. Those cuts look bad though, she needs a proper dressing. Maybe if I share some background...

"I wouldn't go so far as to say you don't need our help, see I'm pretty good with medical stuff. My parents knew a thing or two. Before all this started, of course. I can help you, and your wound needs to be cleaned properly with the antibiotics I have. Whatever you've got wrapped around your wounds now won't do you any good." Huh. Getting used to this talking thing. I throw my best smile in her direction as a final effect.

No dice. She throws back a completely amazed and annoyed look. "Do you ever shut up?"

Ouch.

Samuel speaks up again, apparently as fed up with my ranting as she is. "Just accept our help." She whips her head in his direction. "Take advice from you Sammy?" I snicker inwardly. Sharp tongue on this one. "I'll take my chances with my shitty bandages and arrow, thank you very much."

She looks pleased with herself at that, and Samuel looks reasonably peeved at his new nickname as she smirks at him before standing. Or trying to.

Wyvern lets out a cry of pain and falls back to her knees and Samuel offers a cruelly amused look before speaking. "Ready to listen?"

"I have ... Yes." Wounds must be worse than I thought. I cast my eyes towards the dead cat. Seems a waste to leave clean meat and fur laying around out here. I shake my head. Medicine first, food later.

"But an open road might not be such a great idea to patch me up." She speaks again and pulls me from my thoughts. "Yeah, there's a forest right there." We've got to got back for her weapons and bag anyway, might as well do the treatment there as well. The clearing would be well suited for the task. I begin gathering my weapons and tucking them away again. "Ahh ... No." I turn to look at the white-haired girl. "No way am I going back there."

I'm about to insist when Samuel speaks up again. "Shame." What? What does he mean> I almost start to reach for my gun, thinking the worst until he picks her up and slings her over his shoulder. "Because you don't have a choice in the matter." Damnit, Matt! You need to trust these people! I stand up and offer a smile to her.

"Put me down! Ow! I said put me down you son of a-" She swings her fist down and I flinch at the loud clunk that follows. She shakes her hand in pain and practically glares a hole in the man. "What the shit?"

"Armour." Well damn, Samuel. It's a good thing I didn't try anything earlier. I might not still be alive... He turns to me. "Which way?" This is almost funny. If deadpan comedy was still possible, this guy would be a riot. I offer Wyvern a half apologetic smile, but my amusement must be clear upon my face still, and she flips me off in response. Sigh.

"Forest. Back where we saw Wyvern's stuff." I start back up the trail of broken sticks and trampled undergrowth after the tall man and his passenger, and I find myself staring at Wyvern, who coldly answers with a glare of her own. She's really quite pretty. I blink and look away, down at the uneven path. The world has ended, and she seems to basically loathe you and Samuel. Good luck on that one Walker. I sigh and continue down the path, avoiding the girl's intense gaze.

When we reach the clearing, Samuel lets Wyvern down and heads off the the edge of the trees, taking a spot and leaning up against a trunk. Not many words from Samuel, that one. I lean down in front of her and place the kit on the ground. "I'll need to- Woah!" I turn my head away in shock and give Wyvern her privacy, as she lifts her tattered shirt from around her shoulders. Well then. I guess modesty died with most of humanity then. I guess I can work with that. She turns around and exposes the wound. "Y-yeah that works." Jesus, Matt. Get your head out of your ass.

"Make it quick, it hurts." That has to be quite an understatement, unless this girl is just the toughest person alive. The cuts are deep, I can tell that much before I even peel the bloodied cloth away. Yikes. This looks bad. This is not the time for words. I silently set to work.

I first take a number of alcohol swabs from the kit. The wound needs proper sterilization, and even I grit my teeth as she does, imagining the pain the pads must be inflicting. I quicken my work and set about slathering the slashes with antibiotic ointment. I top off the cool paste with fresh gauze and finishing it with clean bandages and pinning the fabric in place.

"There we go. Should ward off any infections. I'll have to change it every couple of days until the wounds have properly scabbed over. I'd refrain from doing much physical activity and such, too. You don't want to open the wounds too much. I would have stitched them if I had the supplies, but ah... I guess rest is in order, but I doubt we'll be getting much of that, huh?" You aren't a doctor, Matt. Stop with all the talking.

"Matt." I turn back to face her. "I appreciate what you did, so thank you." Just glad you're ok. I want to say, but she continues. "But can you at least shut the hell up for five minutes?" I blink. So much for appreciation. I try not to let my surprise show and nod at the ground before packing up the kit and returning it to my bag. I turn away and Samuel does the same as Wyvern gets dressed again. When I turn again, two new knives are visible at her belt. She glares at the two of us and moves away from where our own bags are laying on the ground and lays down stiffly.

I stare at her back for a time before choosing to do the same, rolling out my pile of blankets before deciding otherwise and throwing one over to Samuel, and, after a moment's hesitation, I head over to drape the second of the three over the prone girl before walking back and tossing his blanket on the ground. Samuel patted my shoulder then and offered a quick, "Be right back" before heading off into the darkened woods.

Well shit. Where's he off to? My paranoia ebbs back in full and for some time, every breeze through the trees sets me on edge until he gets back, dragging the massive white cat in one hand and a.... person? "He's still alive. I found him a little ways from where we found her. No mold from first glance. Oh... and he's got a dog." Even as he finishes speaking, a growl emanates from the bushes and a dog, no, wolf, steps into the moonlight. "Oh shi-" I reach for my gun and knife- "Oh knock it off. I'm trying to help him." Is he.... talking to the wolf? Somehow, the canine stops growling at Samuel's words. "Seems like everything is ungrateful today." I smile at that as he starts the cleaning and skinning of the great animal.

In only a small time, the cat's skin was separate from it's flesh, it's bones removed and a fire blazing in the middle of the clearing. The pelt and bones were placed near Wyvern, she could use the warmth of the skin, and she was the only one who could make more arrowheads if need be. Samuel was gone again, taking the organs and messy remains into the woods to keep the infected away. When he returned, I was staring into the fire after having packaged the meat for later. I had learned how to keep such things fresh for extended periods of time under the tutelage of my uncle. Time flies when the world is ending, huh?

Samuel approached. "Don't know if you have done shifts before. With these things getting more active we're gonna have to keep watch. Four hour shifts. I'll take the first watch." My initial distrust all but gone now, I simply nod and tuck away under the too-short blanket and laid my head on my pack, drifting into suddenly exhausted sleep.

Wyvern

Wan sunlight filters through the treetops, bringing me from a dreamless sleep. Slowly, I sit up, my back protesting at the sudden movement. It doesn't feel as tense today, but there is a dull, burning ache spreading from the wounds. Pushing myself to my feet, I rub my eyes and yawn. My stomach rumbles, and I glance around to find a boy unconscious in the clearing, a huge white wolf sitting by him. Samuel is asleep, body splayed out on the ground near the wolf, and Matt is propped up against a tree, fast asleep.

Matt. He came looking for me – at least I think he did – with Samuel, and patched up my back. He didn't have to do any of that, but he did. And I was so rude to him yesterday. In my defence he'd kinda snuck up on me. And I haven't been around any people for three years. That still isn't a good enough excuse for being a bitch to people that want to help me.

Now, I'm the only person awake right now. I have two options. I could either steal all their stuff and disappear, which would mean a better bow, more supplies, more weapons, some strips of meat out by the dead fire, water, a bigger pack, a radio, and there is a pile of bones right near where I was sleeping. Don't know if that's a statement or means of making tools, but I'll take them anyway.. I mean, it seems like the most logical thing to do, I'm better off alone, I'd have better equipment, and I have a proper medic kit too.

My stomach grumbles, making the white wolf wake up and stare at me. We lock eyes, just watching each other. My stomach grumbles again and the wolf's ears go back. I bare my teeth at it and growl low, making the wolf growl back. I turn to Matt, the only person here I feel remotely comfortable talking to. Chewing on my bottom lip, I walk over to him and crouch down almost directly in front of him. He snores softly, scrunching up his nose. He is really attractive though, and his paleness just seems to add to the attractiveness.

"Matt," I whisper. He doesn't respond. I lean closer to him and poke his shoulder. "Matt!"

His eyes flutter open and he takes a second to realise I'm right in front of him. He jumps and presses himself back against the tree. He looks around, eyes wide, and breathes a small aigh of relief.

"I fell asleep on my watch, guess I'm not too good at that kind of stuff," he stretches and looks at me, an uncomfortable expression on his face. "Why are you so close."

"I'm hungry," I tell him. "And I wanted to say sorry for being rude to you yesterday. And thank you properly for looking at my wounds." I lean forward and press a quick kiss to his cheek. Mum used to do that every single time Dad did something for her. "So thanks."

Colour rushes to Matt's cheeks and I push myself to my feet, waiting for him to stand up. He finally gets the notion and stands. We stare at each other in silence, him confused, me waiting patiently for a response.

"Ahh –"

"I'm hungry," I repeat.

"Right, well Samuel skinned the cat and made some sort of jerky I think with the meat, so –"

"You have a bow, I'd like to assume you have good aim, and I could really go for a walk, and some fresher food. I'm pretty sure there's a stream down yonder, like that way or whatever," I rattle off.

"Oh, okay, sure," Matt nods and picks up his bow. "A walk doesn't sound too bad."

I grab some strips of meat by the fire for us to snack on aa we walk. Matt stands at the edge of the clearing and I walk over to him. After casting a glance at the others – and giving the wolf a cautious look – Matt walks off. I snarl St the wolf before following to match pace beside him.

"Have you ever seen an Infected fish? I haven't," I say conversationally.

He chuckles quietly. "Nope, never," he answers.

We walk through the trees, along a faint path, until we get to the bitumen road. Matt walks over to the white cat, dead on the road, but I shake my head.

"The meat won't be fresh anymore. We could save the pelt, but that would also take time to make it suitable for wearing or using," I tell him.

"You seem to know a lot," Matt smiles at me as we walk down the road.

"I've been on my own for a long time," I shrug. "When you only have yourself to rely on, survival is really important."

"That's true," he nods. "How long have you been alone?"

"Five or so years," I admit. "I haven't spoken to anyone for three years. Well, before yesterday of course." I chew on my bottom lip before looking at Matt. "What about you? What's your story?"

"I was living with my Uncle when it started. He was kind of a nut job, but right about the whole zombie thing. We lived Infected free for probably eight years when they managed to get to us. The last people I'd come across was when I was seventeen," he explains.

Seventeen. He doesn't seem too old, I thought maybe my age, or a year older. "How old are you?" I ask.

"Twenty one, I think. I mean, if I do the math I should be twenty one," he grins handsomely at me. "How about you?"

"Eighteen, I was born in autumn, I usually go by the seasons," I smile.

"Smart," he comments.

We stop by the river I'd found last night and go down to the bank. I don't really see any fish, or anything worth catching for that matter, and frown. Matt points down the river and we walk along the bank in companionable silence. I sneak glances at him every now and then, wondering how long I can be nice to him. It's kind of wearing me thin, not responding with sarcasm or snarky remarks. Gee, what does that say about me? I know I talk to myself a fair bit, but was I horrible to myself?

"So um, what about you?" Matt finally breaks the silence, almost as though he's been stewing over his thoughts for a while now. "What's your story?"

I only mean to keep the answer short, but I find myself blurting out the things I've kept to myself for so long. "I was born a few years before all this started. My mother was like a marine or something crazy like that before she met my Dad. We had a house fenced off in the middle of nowhere. It was a quiet lifestyle for ages, just us three. Dad did the gardening and the cooking, while Mum patrolled the fence line every day and did the hunting. Then my sister, Alexis, was born. When I was thirteen, our house got broken into by some Infected. My Mum tried to fight them off, but there must have been too many. They broke into the room we were hiding in, and my Dad tried to defend us, but he wasn't too good at fighting. They found me and Alexis under the bed, and dragged us out. I tried to fight them, but I was thrown against something and got knocked out," I look at the ground as I speak, trying to keep all emotion from my voice. "When I woke up, the house was trashed and everyone was gone. I stayed there for a month, and noticed my hair seemed to get lighter. It was weird. I couldn't stay at home anymore, so I packed a bag, got some knives, and left. I encountered a few people, and when I was fifteen I found a group of people that were willing to take me in. I made my bow there. But one of them had been bitten, and slowly she was getting infected. I left when her eyes clouded over and she started to moan in her sleep. I tool a few things and left. I felt a bit guilty, but they were all going to die anyway. I spent a year scavenging off other people until I got the hang of my bow. Then I drifted away, into the wilderness. I hadn't seen anyone since then,but I did encounter a lot of Infected, and a heap tonne of the mounds. The more encounters with the Infected and spores, the whiter my hair got. Then my skin got really pale, and my eyes started to fade. I used to have black hair, olive skin and dark green eyes. Hard to believe, huh?" I chuckle wryly and look at Matt, who's watching me with a calculating look. It's so nice to have someone I can actually talk to, and will listen willingly, and actually talk back.

"I used to have brown eyes, so I guess not so hard to believe," he shrugs.

"I quite like your eyes grey, the colour suits you," I give him a charming smile. "And I guess us white guys gotta stick together, right?" I sigh. "I think England would be a long shot, and probably a shot in the dark. But as you said you could use someone with my aim, and I know a lot about the Infected. I'm pretty decent at tracking, too, but I'm no group leader, nor do I take orders. I'll stick with you, but if it gets to rough for me, I'll leave," I give him a playful grin. "Probably with half your stuff, too."

"Well aren't you evil?" Matt chuckles. "I suppose it's fair enough, your terms. I don't really think there's anyone leading us at the moment, because the 'us' is just you, me and Samuel. Oh, and the guy and the wolf. Although I don't know if they'll come with us. I hope they do, though, because the more people we have the better."

I cringe. "I've come to learn that in these times, that's not the case," I give him a pained look.

"Yeah, but you and me can't seem to get infected, so that's a plus. Samuel said we should find others like us, he says we're immune. Apparently there are heaps like us. Maybe not heaps, but a fair amount I hope. And if we find more Immune, we can create a race of people totally immune to this disease," Matt grins wide.

I nod, and then his words sink in. "Oh hell no, I'm not having kids," I growl out. "This world is a living hell, no way will I bring a life into it. That'd just be inhumane."

"We'll be in England by then, and it's a safe zone," he insists.

"Matt, you can't be certain of that," I give him a look of apology. "You heard some people going by rumours. And how are we going to get there? We'll risk our lives to get to an airport or shipping port, and then what? Any working transport left? What about fuel? It's been fifteen years, how will we know if any of that stuff works anymore?" I look down, ashamed of myself for saying these things. "I want to believe that there is a place we can go to get away from all this, but if you look at things realistically and rationally, I highly doubt one country out of the entire world is safe."

"But it's hope, Wyvern. It's something to give us strength, something to look toward. And if we get there only to find that England isn't safe, so what? I'm sure there would be some place where we can go after that. And what if we find a whole bunch of other people that are immune to this disease? We can all work together to get rid of the Infected and make this world better so we can have kids and raise them safely," he smiles warmly. "Wouldn't you be so proud to know that you were a part of a group that fixed this?"

I stare at Matt with wide eyes. He sounds so passionate, I can understand why Samuel is with him. Unless I'm the only one he's given this heartfelt spiel to. In which case, I'm not going to shut him down. I open my mouth to tell him I'm sticking by his side for as long as I can, when he stops me and points.

We'd been walking for so long that the river had opened up to a large lake. And standing by the bank not two hundred metres away is a group of deer, some a mottled grey, some a tawky brown with grey flecks, some completely white. My first thought is that maybe animals are immune too. My next thought is food. I look at Matt and nod slowly. He grins wide and pulls his bow off his back, taking out an arrow. Breakfast is served.



Edited

Lowette

Low looked around and continued running. He ran around the forest, clearly lost and no where to go. He heard voices. Regular voices of the living. Sounds whirled around him and he looked around. "Hello?" he called out.

No response. He tried once more, "Hello? Is anyone there?"

He continued to run until he came to a clearing. It was fairly big so he could set up a small fire and listen for anyone near him.

Low grabbed a few sticks and rocks and sparked the rocks together, creating small sparks that ignited the fire. He blew on the sparks gently, spreading the flames.

After it was up in flames, he sat next to it, hungry. He hadn't eaten for awhile and he needed something. His gun was no use out here. It attracted more and more infected and he didn't need that. He took off his backpack and looked for his knife. It wasn't much, but it would do for now.

Looking around, he saw a little stream. He ran to it, dipping his hands in the water. It was cold and fairly refreshing on his hands. Lowette looked up to see a few deer grazing upon the grass. He growled low, getting his knife ready. Before he lunged, an arrow shot through the air and he froze. A deer fell and he gulped. Looking over, he saw a boy and a girl together, about his age--probably a year or two older.

Low was slightly shocked. He hadn't seen non-infected for years. "H-Hello?" he croaked.

Matt Walker

I don't get much sleep and before long, fours hours are up and Samuel is shaking me awake. At first I don't know what I happening, and I scramble backwards, reaching for my knife before I recognize the man's face. "Matt. Your watch. I'm gonna catch some shut-eye. Don't fall asleep." Oh. Right. Guard duty. I sigh and stand up stiffly, my back cracking loudly. After all this time, sleeping on the ground still gets me. Almost ironic, seeing as how I've been shot, stabbed, bitten.... You'd think laying down, no matter the surface would be nothing to me, but no. I roll my neck and nod to Samuel. "You get some sleep. I'll make sure nothing gets too close." He nods and heads off, back towards his tree where he promptly sits back and pulls his mask over his eyes.

The fire has died down and I add a number of sticks to the flames and stare off into the darkened woods. The silence is somehow even worse now that I've been talking so much. I sit down beside the fire and cast an occasional glance around the clearing, scanning for movement. How am I not totally insane? I've spent the majority of my life alone, or with an unstable man who liked to shoot things that didn't agree with him. I think I turned out decent, all things considered. The night bears on and on with just me and my thoughts in the deafeningly quiet night. Hours pass and my eyelids grow heavy. I blink. I blink again. Once more...

Suddenly, a poke to my shoulder. "Matt!" I awake with a start. It is daylight, and I jump up, cursing mildly. I fell asleep? I fell asleep!? How could I have been so stupid? I glance, panicked around the clearing at the prone bodies of Samuel and the unconscious boy near his wolf. His wolf. His wolf. Pet wolf. Huh. I let out a sigh of relief. At least my stupidity hadn't gotten anyone killed or infected. Thank god for that.

Wyvern is crouched right in front of me, close enough to see the streaks of grays in her eyes. "I fell asleep on my watch. guess I'm not too good at that kind of stuff." It was true. In my time alone, I grew more used to either finding a good spot and barricading it or simply sleeping as little as I could before moving on. Keeping a schedule was almost alien. I stretch and look more closely at Wyvern. Do my eyes look like that now, too? Realization dawns on just how close she actually is. "Why are you so close?"

Her stomach rumbles as if on cue. "I'm hungry." She hesitates. "And.. I wanted to say sorry for being rude to you yesterday. And thank you for properly looking at my wounds." Before I can respond, she leans forwards even closer and plants her lips on my cheek. Woah. Even just as she pulls away again, I can feel the blood rushing to my face and I simply stare in a mixture of shock and giddiness at her while she stands. Oh. I should stand too. I push myself up and look at her. What were we talking about. Think Matt, think! My brain simply refuses to cooperate and I utter a confused and uncertain, "Ahh-" Wow. Good one Matt. Of all the times to be lost for words.

"I'm hungry." She says. Of course! Wake up Walker! I quickly reorganize my thoughts. "Right. Well Samuel skinned the cat and I made some jerky last night before I fell asleep with the meat, so-" She cuts me off. "You have a bow, I'd like yo assume you have good aim, and I could really go for a walk, and some fresher food. Well alrighty then. Right down to business. I can go with that. "I'm pretty sure there's a stream down yonder, like that way or whatever. She gestures off into the woods as she finishes.

A walk would be nice. I haven't just walked in ages. Always running or sneaking... "Oh, okay, sure." I nod and swipe up my bow from where it was leaning beside me. "A walk doesn't sound too bad." I try to downplay my enthusiasm at the idea, unsuccessfully it would seem as even I can note the change in my tone. While I head for the edge of the clearing, Wyvern grabs a number of the cured strips of cat meat, to take with us, I guess, before walking back to me. I look around at our makeshift campsite, and the enormous white wolf currently sitting in the middle of it, I turn around and head into the forest.

We walk in silence for only a short while, and as I try to come up with something to say, Wyvern speaks up. "Have you ever seen an infected fish? I haven't." Her tone has changed from yesterday and the hostility is all but gone. Maybe there's hope after all. I offer a chuckle. "Nope, never." Come to thin of it, I really haven't. Not that I've seen many fish anyway. Maybe there's something to it though...

A break in the trees marks the end of the forest and the start of the road. We're not far from where Wyvern killed the great cat. She seems to share my thoughts and brings up the beast. "We could save the pelt, but it will take time to make it suitable for wearing or using." I smile over at her. "You seem to know a lot." I learned everything I know from my uncle, how did she? "I've been on my own for a long time." Tell me about it. She shrugs. "When you only have yourself to rely on, survival is really important. It seems we've all learned that, one way or another. I nod. "That's true." I think back to my uncle and the raiders. "How long have you been alone?"

I sigh as a number of memories flood past. "I was living with my Uncle when it started. He was kind of a nutjob, but right about the whole zombie thing I guess. We lived in his compound infected free for probably eight years until they managed to get to us. The last people since then that I've seen were raiders when I was seventeen." She looks at me. "How old are you?" I ask myself the same thing. Keeping track of time gets harder when you're living day to day, but I think my estimate should be pretty close. "Twenty, I think. I mean if I do the math I should be twenty." I grin at her sheepishly. "How about you?"

"Eighteen." She replies. "I was born in autumn, I usually go by the seasons." She smiles back. She's really beautiful. I realize again. "Smart." I look forwards again and try to keep my eyes level with the ground. It isn't much later when we reach a river, and we head down to the bank together.

I notice her stealing glances, and I do the same until our eyes meet and we both look away. The silence is palpable. "So, um, what about you?" I've wondered this since I first saw her in the dusty old house where we met the previous day. "What's your story?"

Wyvern almost seems reluctant to talk about it at first, but soon her words are pouring out like the flood gates have been opened. ""I was born a few years before all this started. My mother was like a marine or something crazy like that before she met my Dad. We had a house fenced off in the middle of nowhere. It was a quiet lifestyle for ages, just us three. Dad did the gardening and the cooking, while Mum patrolled the fence line every day and did the hunting. Then my sister, Alexis, was born. When I was thirteen, our house got broken into by some Infected. My Mum tried to fight them off, but there must have been too many. They broke into the room we were hiding in, and my Dad tried to defend us, but he wasn't too good at fighting. They found me and Alexis under the bed, and dragged us out. I tried to fight them, but I was thrown against something and got knocked out." I turn to face her, but her eyes are held firmly on the ground. This is a loaded topic for her. Reasonably so, too. "When I woke up, the house was trashed and everyone was gone. I stayed there for a month, and noticed my hair seemed to get lighter. It was weird. I couldn't stay at home anymore, so I packed a bag, got some knives, and left. I encountered a few people, and when I was fifteen I found a group of people that were willing to take me in. I made my bow there. But one of them had been bitten, and slowly she was getting infected. I left when her eyes clouded over and she started to moan in her sleep. I tool a few things and left. I felt a bit guilty, but they were all going to die anyway. I spent a year scavenging off other people until I got the hang of my bow. Then I drifted away, into the wilderness. I hadn't seen anyone since then,but I did encounter a lot of Infected, and a heap tonne of the mounds. The more encounters with the Infected and spores, the whiter my hair got. Then my skin got really pale, and my eyes started to fade. I used to have black hair, olive skin and dark green eyes. Hard to believe, huh?"

Her voice wavers only slightly and I realize that this must really be hard to talk about, though I'm more than happy to listen. Her voice is calming somehow. Maybe it's just that I've not spoken in so long, maybe it's something.... else. I remember the photo my dad used to keep in his wallet suddenly, of me in my soccer uniform. I had brown eyes... "I used to have brown eyes, so I guess not so hard to imagine." I shrug as I look at her. I wonder what we might look like if this nightmare had never happened. I shake the thought from my head. No use dwelling on such things, and besides, I can't quite imagine her being much prettier. Her eyes are- It's like she can read my mind. "I quite like your eyes grey, the colour suits you." Wyvern smiles and I struggle to keep from hopping up and down. She continues. "And I guess us white guys gotta stick together, right?"

She changes the subject then in favour of less personal conversation. "I think England is a long shot, and probably a shot in the dark. But as you said you could use someone with my aim, and I know a lot about the Infected. I'm pretty decent at tracking, too, but I'm no leader, nor do I take orders. I'll stick with you, but if it gets too rough for me, I'll leave." She flashes another playful grin. "Probably with half your stuff, too."

I laugh at that. "Well aren't you evil?" If it gets rough, we could leave together... I can't bring myself to say this though, not yet. "I suppose it's fair enough, your terms. I don't really think there's anyone leading us at the moment, because 'us' is just you, me and Samuel." I revise my statement as the unconscious man with the wolf pops into my mind. "Oh, and the guy with a wolf, though I don't know if they'll come with us. I hope they do, though, because the more people we have the better." I instantly realize the double-sided nature of heightened numbers in a group, as the raiders come back to mind.

She makes a face as she apparently has the same thought. "I've come to learn that in these times, that's not the case." Another look, one that bears some history, certainly. Her words have truth, but now that I've met her and Samuel, I might see things differently. "Yeah, but you and me can't seem to get infected, so that's a plus. Samuel said we should find others like us, he says we're immune." I think back to what he told me the previous day. "Apparently there are heaps more like us. Well, maybe not heaps, but a fair amount I'd hope. If we find more Immune, we can create a race of people immune to this disease. " I grin, right before I realize that I may have gotten just slightly carries away by my enthusiasm once more.

She nods before my words seem to hit her. "Oh hell no, I'm not having kids." Her tone darkens. "This world is a living hell, no way will I bring a life into it. That'd be just inhumane."

Though I know what she says is true, I find myself defending the possibility, blindly following the hope that was born with that radio message. "We'd be in England by then, and it's a safe zone." She turns to me now with a sad look in her eyes. "Matt, you can't be certain of that." She's right... "You heard some people going by rumours. And how are we going to get there? We'll risk our lives to get to an airport or shipping port, and then what? Any working transport left? What about fuel? It's been fifteen years, how will we know if any of that stuff works anymore?" The gravity of her words starts to sink in. She's absolutely right, Matt. You knew even when you were listening to that message that it was a long shot. Do you even know how to run a boat? Does Wyvern? Samuel? The chances of a ship still working, and still having fuel.... minimal...

Wyvern speaks again a moment later, her voice a tad softer now. "I want to believe that there is a place we can go to get away from all this, but if you look at things realistically and rationally, I highly doubt one country out of the entire world is safe." I realize then that it may not even matter if England is truly safe. This girl walking beside me has let this shitty world into her head, and I know that I've done the same. "But it's hope Wyvern. "And what if we find a whole bunch of other people that are immune to this disease? We can all work together to get rid of the Infected and make this world better so we can have kids and raise them safely. Wouldn't you be so proud to know that you were a part of a group that fixed this?"

She stares at me and I can almost see a flicker of something in her eyes. Hope? Maybe it's just incredulity at my naiveté, but here's hoping. I am pulled from my thoughts at a movement from the corner of my eye. We've come to a lake, and on the far side are a number of deer grazing, blissfully unaware of our presence. I hold up a hand to Wyvern and point at the creatures before pulling my bow from my back and nocking an arrow. A moment later, the head is buried deep in a buck's neck, and the animal falls to the grassy earth.

I smile in victory when a small voice pierces the early morning silence. "H-hello?" I whirl to face a boy emerging from the tall grass at the bank of the lake and level another arrow at his face. "Who are you? Where did you come from?" I demand in surprise.

Low

Lowette looked at them and raised his hands. "I-I mean no harm." He croaked once more, trying to cover up the scarce tone in his voice. "I'm Lowette." He paused. "Low. Call me Low."

Lowette sounds...off.

Low's penny colored hair was a mess. Dirt layered on his clothing. He stood up straight, hands still raised in surrender. "I ended up here in this forest just by traveling." His voice was low. He cringed as the cuts on his arms and legs began to sting. "W-Who are you?"

Low was normally sweet. He wasn't mad, so he had no attitude. He wouldn't give one either because this guy had an arrow pointed at his head.

Jeremy saw a young boy, round about 15 or 16, pelt past his hiding place, mere yards below him. Had he simply been walking, or even jogging, chances are Jeremy would have been noticed, however the boy seemed to have been in quite a hurry. Indeed, he had been running so fast that, once Jeremy had clambered down the tree, he was nowhere to be seen. The thing was, it took motivation to be running that fast, and Jeremy reckoned the most likely motivation would be something he was running away from. And so, at a slightly less tiring pace, he set off in the same direction. He was no tracker, but tracking skills weren't really necessary. His path was fairly obvious, and he had been running fairly straight, or as straight as possible in a forest.
Round about an hour later, with the sun properly risen, Jeremy arrived at a clearing. It was ridiculously picturesque, complete with golden sun beams and gurgling brook, and in the centre a fire had been built, which was burning quite happily. The boy from earlier had obviously been here, he had even left his backpack on the ground. And gun, he noticed. So he had been the one firing a gun earlier.
Jeremy sat down next to the fire. The lad had to come back for his stuff sooner or later, and besides, he could use a fire to warm up some stew he'd made a couple of days ago.

Wyvern

The copper haired boy looks so afraid, crouched in the grass with Matt's loaded bow aimed at his face. There's something about his expression, his eyes, the shakiness in his voice, that reminds me of something. Or someone.

Alex and I hide under the covers of my bed, torch on, the pale light casting eerie shadows over our faces. I poke my tongue out and wiggle it, making Alex giggle, hands over her mouth. She is, undoubtedly, the cutest girl alive.

"Do the other face, Wyvvie," she whispers. "The fingery one!"

Chuckling low, I stick my pinkies into my mouth, pulling my lips back from my teeth. My pointer fingers push the tip of my nose up, and I flick my tongue out, trying hard not to smile. Alex throws her head back and squeals with laughter. Her little peels send me into a fit of giggles, hands covering my face, trying to be quiet.

A sound further in the house makes us stop laughing. Alex leaps onto my lap, and I pull the blanket over my head, black hair ruffled by the course fabric. I peer out from under the blanket at my half closed bedroom door. There is another sound, all the way from the kitchen, like floorboards creaking.

"Stay here," I whisper to Alex.

Slowly, I slide off the bed and pick up the dagger mum makes me have beside my bed every night. I haven't worried so much about Infected getting in, but we have been warned countless times that other humans may want food and shelter, not caring that a family already replies upon those two things.

I stalk over to my bedroom door and peer through the crack. I can see the kitchen doorway directly down the hall, the wan moonlight filtering in through the clear, glass windows above the washing sink. It sounds like there's someone walking around in the kitchen, too heavy to be either of my parents.

I feel a tug on my shirt hem and turn to look at Alex, her green eyes wide with fear. "Is it Mummy and Daddy?" She whispers.

Biting my lip, I turn to look back down the hall and stare in silenced horror. An Infected wolf is standing in the hallway, nose in the air. It lets out a low moan before turning around to skulk around in the kitchen again. I know I have to get to my parents' room, the only place we'll be safe.

"Wy?" Alex's voice sends me on high alert.

Closing the door, I bend down to look at her. She must see the fear in my eyes and hear my heart pounding in my chest, because her eyes widen and her bottom lip starts to tremble. She looks so afraid, so fragile. A wave of protectiveness washes over me. I give her a shaky, reassuring smile that does little to calm her.

"Mum and Dad will protect us, and I promise you I'll keep you safe," I whisper firmly. "I swear on my own life that I'll keep you safe."

Alex's lip stops trembling, but the fear remains in her eyes. "Promise?" She asks.

"I promise," I smile wider, believing my own words.

But I hadn't kept my promise. They'd all been killed, and I couldn't being myself to end my own life. My survival instincts are too strong, thanks to Mum. And this boy, Low, reminds me so much of little Alex. A similar wavr of protectiveness washes over me, and I push Matt's bow away. He looks at me with surprise as I walk over to Low and bend down before him.

"Hey, Low," I say softly, smiling at him. He relaxes visibly. "My name is Wyvern, and this is Matt. We have a camp in the forest. We're heading to England because apparently it's a safe zone. Would you like to join us?"

Low blinks in surprise. "Umm ... I ..." He glances at Matt and then back to me before nodding sheepishly. "Yeah, sure."

"But you'll need to help us bring the deer back to camp," I tell him.

"Yeah I can do that," he beams at me.

I nod and stand back. Matt gives me a look of confusion and irritation. I feel defensive of my decision, so I poke my tongue at him. He rolls his eyes and looks at Low before strolling over to the deer he'd shot and pulls the arrow out. I walk over to the deer and crouch down beside its head. My fingers brush over its face as I mutter an apology for taking its life and thanking it for the resources it will provide. Matt is watching me with a wistful look on his face, and looks away when our eyes meet.

"You'll have to walk ahead, Wyvern," he tells me. "With your wounds –"

"Yeah, yeah," I growl. In other words I'm pretty much useless. I know Matt doesn't mean that, but it's true. "Don't wanna open them."

Low and Matt work together to carry the deer back down the river, and then down the cracked, lumpy bitumen road. We reach the small break in the trees and follow the faint path back to our camp. I walk ahead, and burst into the clearing with a grin on my face.

"We're back!" I sing.

Samuel narrows his eyes at me from his spot by the rekindled fire. "Hurray," he grumbles sarcastically.

"We have more food, too," Matt gasps out as he and Low haul the deer carcass into camp. Samuel perks up at the sight of the deer. "And a new recruit."

"Hey," Low waves meekly.

"I'm going to assume you're the one that skinned and deboned the cat, Sam, so it would be greatly appreciated if you could do the same for Mr Deer too," I Pat Samuel's shoulder as I walk passed him and over to the pile of bones near my pack. "Thanks for that, by the way."

He grunts a reply and goes over to the carcass to inspect it. He and Matt talk about what can be made with what we'll get. Or more like Matt does the talking and Samuel keeps looking the white body over. Low stands behind Matt, unsure of what he should do. My eyes land on the wolf sitting beside the still unconscious boy. It lowers it's ears and snarls at me. I poke my tongue at it, which causes the wolf to tilt it's to the side in confusion.

My eyes look over at Low, his eyes trained on Samuel's hands as he starts working on the deer. He reminds me so much of Alexis, it's odd. My sister is dead, and I thought my ability to care had died with her. But for some reason, with Low, I give a shit. Not enough to protect him with my life, but just enough to make sure he'll be safe. And Matt. I think I care about Matt too.

This world is so messed up.