The bus bumped.

"What grade's your brother in?"

Well, this was unusual. Where did this conversation come from? Ms Linda didn't just talk to me. We were both here because we needed to be. Not because we wanted to.

"Seventh."

"And you? Tenth?"

"Yup."

"So you're three years apart?"

"Yes."

Technically two and a half, but I'm not telling her that. I traced my backpack with a solid digit, inwardly unimpressed with my chunky fingers.

I stared out the window, watching the rain slowly meander down my window. I sat in this seat every day, even though the bus was typically empty, save for the random senior who didn't want to waste gasoline on that particular day. I watched a rather large man easily take down a Zed. I began to picture my life as a feature film, with my character being played by—No, those were pre-war thoughts. It's not right to think that way now.

I focused on Ms Linda. I'd never bothered asking about what her life was like. And I didn't care. I had my own thoughts to contend with, and that was enough for me.

She was thin and looked athletic. I had never really seen her face-forward; her blonde ponytail bobbed at me and the mirror showed me her forehead. We didn't talk, really: we communicated. I supposed she looked the type to get up at the yawn of Satan to go running while drinking a weight-loss-smoothie-frappuccino. And it wouldn't spill.

Looking back, sure, I might've been intimidated by her. But not jealous. It was just weird to be having a conversation with your bus driver. It doesn't happen.

Ever since the Seven Days, my folks had been constantly reminding my brother and I about people. Don't get close to them, they might turn, blah de blah de blah. I'm sure your parents said similar things when the Zeds attacked. My parents called them 'Zombies'. But I was still recovering from my British phase pre-war. So 'Zeds' they were to me.

My little brother denied their existence completely, even when he packed his knife for school. Sometimes I wonder what it was like to be him, in a world without zombies. My brother is named Sherlock. Yeah, I know. You'd think that with dorky parents like mine, they'd pull some obscure Gaelic name out of their asses and we'd be teased for that and only that. But no.

My name is Aeowyn. It's from Lord of the Rings. My dad spelled it wrong. End of discussion.

Now, onto the homework for tonigh-

The bus flipped.

At that moment a million things flew through my mind, just like we flew through the air. I couldn't hear anything, just…silence. I thought I was going to die. And within a fraction of a second I accepted that.

Not that I had much to live for then. The Zeds had destroyed whatever family unity we had. You'd think they'd bring us together, but the tension was unbearable. School seemed like a relief.

And I closed my eyes, wishing for the quick, painless death I had learned was best.

When I opened my eyes, it was just as I expected. Darkness enveloped me and choked me, my pulsing temples pounding like drums, giving me an immediate headache. I blinked and shifted. Icy pain shot up and down my back, and I realized I was spread out on a bed of broken glass. Carefully I lifted my arm and wiped at my eyes, finding them crusted over with blood. I swallowed and the saliva slid roughly against a sore throat. I stood and shook the glass from my body, pulling the dried blood from the corners of my eyes and taking in my surroundings.

The woods.

I heard birds, wind, and little else. The sun was blocked by the hulking bus, turned on its side and rid of all glass. My thoughts turned to Ms Linda. Where was she anyway?

I turned in a full circle before spotting her figure by some ferns. She was on her side, like the bus, and her ponytail had grass in it. I rushed to her side.

She moaned and turned over. I pulled my knife and stepped back. Her eyes opened and I sighed in relief and put my knife down. "Thought you were a Zed." I offered my hand in help.

"Zed?"

"Zombie."

"Ah." She stood and took my hand, releasing it upon gaining her own footing. "You okay?" I noticed her ankle had a nasty snag in it. I looked away.

"Er…yup." My hand flew to my temple, where I felt a cut, still bleeding. "So I guess we're heading back to the main highway?"

She didn't reply. She walked past me, favoring her right ankle, towards the bus. She tilted her head slowly, pressing one ear to the roof of the bus.

"What are you-"

"Shh!" She shot me a look and brought her finger out in my direction, not leaving the bus.

After a few seconds, she grabbed my backpack from nearby and shot away, gripping my arm and whispering, "They're there."

We ran deeper into the woods.

We ran, and she pushed me ahead of her, half-galloping on her bad ankle. We stopped for a bit and took stock. She had a shotgun in her bag, along with some trail mix in a bag, a half-empty water bottle, a map, and a banana. I had the knife my father had given me, my silver fork, and the lunch I had neglected that day in a sad attempt to lose weight. She glanced at my lunch without comment. The Zeds groaned and we continued on our way.

Once she was sure we had lost the Zeds, she pulled me down to a half-covered log. We both sat, panting. Maybe she wasn't the athletic tart I had taken her for.

"So what's the plan?" I asked. My parents would be worried sick. They'd move on if I was dead.

"I'm takin' you home. That's the plan." She craned her neck to look for Zeds.

"That's it? We're not gonna…I don't know."

"What were you expecting?" She turned to look at me.

I brought my head down. "I don't know," I repeated. "What happens if…?"

"If they get me" -she motioned with her shotgun at her head- "don't be difficult. One in the noggin and I'm not comin' back." I just nodded and bit my lip, stewing in the knowledge that being difficult came easily to me.

We trudged through the woods, and I could feel the grime permeating my skin. It was uncomfortable, but I shrugged it off. It had been worse during the Seven Days. We both looked like shit, anyway. Her ankle oozed and screamed at me, but I said nothing. Her perky ponytail had been snagged on a branch and cut the band, leaving her hair thorny, messy, and full of leaves. She pushed her hair back behind her shiny emerald earrings. She had sworn, but moved on quickly. I kept my pigtails in, and she didn't ask for a hair tie.

"Ms Linda."

"Call me June."

"June."

"Mmm?"

"Can I see the map?"

"Sure."

I studied the map until I memorized the way home, in case I needed to go alone. She gave me a nod as I returned it.

Continuing to move at an unbearably slow pace towards my house, I daydreamed about what my parents would say. They'd be so happy I was alive. I imagined my mother breathing a sigh of relief and giving me food. My father would be so happy he'd cry. Hah. That'd teach 'em.

I heard something behind me. I whirled around, seeing a Zed with an axe buried healthily in his skull directly in front of me. I stifled a scream and my nostrils caught his earthy, decomposing scent. My eyes rolled into the back of my head involuntarily and my vision went white. Hands caught me from behind and helped me up quickly. The Zed stumbled and gave a moan. I heard more behind him as June dragged me away. I gained my senses back quickly and started to run.

We ran, her wounded ankle stomping behind her healthy one. I took this opportunity to go ahead, bounding over treacherous roots and nature's traps. A Zed landed a groping hand against her pink top, sending her down to the ground. I didn't stop. She gave a cry as his teeth penetrated her ankle's flesh. My feet moved forward involuntarily. I swear I could hear her turn as his sour phlegm infected her oozing wound. And with her last breath, she said simply: "Jim." That I could hear.

The sun shone like amber through the trees readying themselves for winter's harsh tongue. Frost covered my shivering body, an ache running its way down my shoulders. I needed to go back for June. She had covered my ass all the way, and what did I do? Thrown her away like she was only my life. And she was. What was I going to do now? I needed to recover the shotgun. All I had was my knife, and I needed all the protection I could get.

Gently, I made my way down to her body. Surprisingly, she was still there. The Zeds had most likely flocked to another innocent target. I raised my knife, anticipating an attack. Her body rested in a slight niche, and I could see how she had met her fate, with a tangle of pricker bushes lining the way. Small thorns had embedded themselves into her body. I aimed for the shotgun and held my breath against the all-too-familiar stench of rotting corpse. My hand reached for the weapon when one of the thorns caught me and I yelped shortly, bringing it back. June's body shot up with the smell of blood, and before I knew what was happening, the knife was embedded in her skull.

"Rest in peace," I muttered, taking the shotgun. I paused before turning, noticing the earrings I had admired before. The small silver balls beckoned, gleaming in the light, holding the emeralds enticingly. I took them. What use could she have for them now? She'd gone to a better place, a place where people don't use emerald earrings.

I shoved the earrings deep into my pockets and my thoughts of June deep into my mind.