Author's Note: I just began writing this story, literally, and I'm still working out the whole plot, climax, resolution, etc. part so I'm uncertain on how regularly I'll update this. I posted this chapter to see how people generally took to this story. Now I'm not one of those people who beg for their stories to be reviewed. For me, if I love my work than that's enough. It's always wonderful for others to love or enjoy your work as much as you do and to hear nice (or helpful constructive) feedback, but please don't feel pressured to review. I won't hold it over your heads. :)
But if you could find some time in your day to just say if you like this or not, that would be super helpful!
Now on with this story!
CHAPTER ONE:
Red. All the girl could see was red. Red hands, red feet, red lips, red street. Red on hair and red on skin, red on bodies and red on limbs. Was red really coating everything in sight or was her vision playing tricks of light? She supposed it could've been either. But why was she seeing red everywhere? The girl looked down at her lap, and suddenly she remembered everything...
"THEY'RE COMING!"
"I KNOW!"
"RELL!"
"I'M GOING AS FAST AS I CAN!"
"HURRY, THEY'VE PAST STARBUCKS!"
"Damnit!" She muttered as she tugged on the jarred zipper.
"RELL!"
"I'M COMING!" Rell managed to zip up the backpack and sling it onto her shoulder before running into the feminine hygiene section. "I'm here," she panted to her companion.
They heard a horrible cacophony of groaning and morning from the front of the store. The duo shared a panicked look. "Go out the back!"
The girls sprinted to the back exit and into the redden sunrise. The sun's bright beams seemed to seep into the inky darkness, making the sky look as if it had veins pulsing through it's navy body. Three black crows squawked from their perch on a rooftop as their peaceful naps were interrupted by the banging of a heavy metal door slamming shut.
Rell winced as the birds flew away in a huff. The noise was so loud it would surely send the walkers right to them; they might as well as be waving a flag and blowing a whistle.
"Where to now?" Rell asked her companion.
"Did you get everything on the list?"
"Did you?"
The girl smirked, her topaz eyes sparkling. "You know I did."
Rell opened her bag to display the nut bars, drinks and toilet paper that were piled inside. "I'm gonna have to get a new bag, soon. The zipper's broken—it's what held me up."
"Okay. I think I saw an accessory store somewhere. Do you have the map?"
Rell would remember the next events for the rest of her life as clearly as a reflection shown on a glass pan although she didn't see it happen until afterwards and by then it was too late.
A scream, the sound of growling and then torn flesh sounded behind her. Rell whirled around, gun at the ready, but she was too late. Her sister stood over the still corpse of a walker laying on the sidewalk. It was clear that she had stabbed it with the knife that was clutched in her hand.
"Hey," Rell said, noticing the terror written on the girl's face which was unusual for her tough character. "You ok? It startled me and I guess y—"
The girl swayed and would have fallen to the ground if Rell hadn't been there to catch her as she collapsed. "Here," Rell guided her sister by her arm to the ground. "You'll probably feel better laying down. I can't believe you're shak—" Rell felt a warm wetness on her hand and when she pulled it away, she saw red.
Rell yanked up the sleeve despite the other girl's protests—and there it was, a bite mark, beaming cruelly up at her. Rell couldn't speak. She could only gawk at the wound, mouth open and eyes bulging like the hideous gold fish she had once seen in a pet store.
"Rell," the girl said, her voice full of pain.
Rell didn't respond, so the girl spoke again. And again. And again.
"Yeah?" Rell finally choked out. She felt as thought her heart was constricting in her chest and her inside were made of crushing steel.
"The crows," her sister croaked.
Rell half heartedly dabbed the wound free of blood and spit—smearing more blood on her own hands in the process—but she knew it was no use. Her sister was going to die. Rell had always known that they both were going to die at some point, as every human did. Rell also knew the chances of survival were very slim when the world had first fallen. But Rell hadn't thought her sister would leave her so soon, so sudden, and so unprepared, in this cruel world.
"The crows. Three crows in a row means certain death. I knew it was a bad sign."
Rell let out a noise somewhere between a sob and a laugh. "You and your superstations."
The girl smiled, but then her face twisted in agony. Rell adjusted her so that her head was in Rell's lap, but she couldn't do anything else but that. "Make it stop," Rell heard her whimpered.
The two were silent as Rell griped the shaking hands of the girl laying on the cement. Not a word was uttered between the two sisters but both knew what the other was thinking.
It will. Soon enough, it will.
"I'm sorry," Rell whispered. "I'm so sorry, I should've come when you called the first time and—"
"Shhhh," the girl consoled. Rell wanted to laugh and cry. Even when dying, her sister thought only of her. Rell thought she looked so pale and fragile, laying in an impossibly large, crimson pool of her own making. This scene was so completely opposite to how her sister was really like; lively, fierce, determined, confidant, unafraid. Her sister always knew what to do, what to say, and how to survive. From the beginning, Rell depended on her to keep them alive, and for six months they were successful.
"Here." The girl forced her knife into the cold palm of Rell's hand. "Take this. Use it for... You have to. Promise me you'll continue to fight."
"I... I..."
"Promise me! You, Esmeralda Porter, will see the end of this great big mess. I know you will."
"I can't," Rell protested pathetically. "I can't, how could I—?" How could she possibly survive on her own in this apocalyptic nightmare? Tears splattered the pavement.
"Just survive somehow. Please, for me. You have to keep going, keep fighting. Just survive this day, and all will be well."
Rell stared at her sister. Her blonde hair was dyed crimson, her clothes wet and red. The girl's face was twisted in agony but also had the expression of fierce determination. Could Rell do this alone? How could she keep on living if everyone she loved was truly and forever gone? How lonely and small could Rell's world possibly shrink?
"Please," the girl begged.
"All right," Rell finally said. If this was the last thing she could do for her sister, then she would try her best. "For you, I promise."
The girl smiled. "Thank you." Then she started coughing. To Rell's horror, her sister began hacking up bloody, mystery chunks.
"What do I do?" Rell felt hopeless as she watched the girl dry heaved on the pavement besides her. Rell was afraid of causing her more pain. "How do I help? Tell me! Anything!"
"Just—" she licked her ruby stained lips. She took a shuddering breath and shifted in Rell's lap. "I want to hear your voice. Say something, anything." A tear slipped down her cheek and mingle with the burgundy puddle by her side.
Rell couldn't speak, she was so choked up. But she tried, even though her voice was sore and she hadn't sang their song in years, Rell tried for her.
"Black birds singin' in the dead of night. Take these broken wings and learn to fly. All your life, you were always waiting for this moment to arise. Black bird fly..."
The girl with red hair closed her eyes and her body relaxed. She was ready, Rell realized as she softly sang the hauntingly, beautiful song. Her sister was ready to go. She was finally going to be at peace, somewhere far away from this wicked nightmare that their world had became.
"Black bird singin' in the dead of night."
"Take these sunken eyes and learn to see." The girl grasped Rell's hand tighter.
"All your life, you were always waiting for this moment to be free," the two sang in harmony. "Black bird—"
The girl's hand fell limply from Rell's. Her body couldn't have possibly grown so cold so soon, but to Rell, her sister's corpse was as chilled as a figure made of ice in her lap.
"Fly."
Rell stared at the glassy blue, blank depths that were once filled with warmth, love and laughter. With a trembling hand Rell closed the girl's eyelids and smoothed down her ratty, bloodied, blonde hair. Rell took a coin from her pocket and placed it beneath the girl's tongue. Then, with a twisted heart-wrenching cry, Rell plunged the knife into the forehead of her sister.
As here she was, six hours later in the same exact spot with her sister's dead body in her lap. Rell knew it was dangerous to stay there with a herd of walkers just around the block and in plain sight of any passerby. But she couldn't move. Her neck ached from the bent position it forcefully endured and her legs had fallen asleep from the dead weight of her sister, but something else kept Rell stationary.
A horrible sound, then, filled Rell's ears. A little dead girl wearing nothing but a black slip and feathers in her hair—bird feathers from her latest victim, no doubt—stood a few feet away, mechanically moving her jaw. Rell had half the mind to stay where she was and let the walker take her life, too. But her promise to her sister weighed upon her mind and Rell had never broken a promise before.
Rell gently lifted her sister off her lap and set her on the ground, fully emerging the head in the ruby puddle. Rell bent down and grasped the knife's handle. She wrenched it free of the skull and turned around, ready to face the walker.
The street was silent. Old newspapers and trash littered the ground. The stores and apartment buildings sky high were gray and stoic. Rell saw a figure out of her peripheral vision and she spun around to find a thin girl with red soaked clothing, black hair with streaks of silver, a blood splattered face, a knife in her hand and a wild, frightened and foreign look in her eyes.
This was her, Rell realized. This stranger, this terrified thing that the world had molded, formed and created, was her own reflection, and there was no sign nor trace of a walker anywhere at all.
The noise of something stepping on a plastic bag caught Rell's attention. It sounded like it was coming from where the herd walkers were hanging about before. Rell grabbed her gun and backpack and after a pause, numbly took the bag off her sister's body. If it were just one walker or even three, Rell could've stabbed them, but she knew the only hope to survive an entire herd was either heights or protection (preferably something high and sturdy, like walls).
Rell hoisted both bags on her shoulder and made to move, but before she took three steps a voice called out.
"Stop!"
Within seconds Rell had her gun raised and cocked. A human. Humans were more dangerous than the dead, she knew, from personal, past experiences.
"Put the gun down," came the voice again.
"Who are you? Where are you!" Rell quietly shouted, very mindful of the herd nearby. "Come out and show yourself!"
"I'm not coming out until you put the gun down."
Rell tightened her grip on the gun but then immediately loosen it. "Getting all tensed does you no good when it comes to firing," her sister had instructed. "When you get tense, your hands begin to shake and you usually can't shoot properly. So just try to relax, even if you're in a bad situation."
"How do you know I have a gun?"
"I can see you—No, I'm not on the roof so don't bother pointing up there."
"Then where are you?" She snapped. Rell was aggravated, sore, frightened, mourned her sister, and most of all, she was tired. She was tired of living in fear and uncertainty. She was tired of fighting for her life every day and not knowing if it was even worth it, if she would wake up one day and that would be her last.
"You can obviously see me, so you have to be somewhere on this street."
"Actually," came the voice laced with pleasantry. "I'm on 10th Avenue."
Rell frowned. She was on 42nd street.
"I can see you in the building's reflection. Now please, put the gun down. I'm not going to hurt you."
"Like hell you aren't," Rell snorted but lowered the gun all the same. She kept it cocked and was ready at any second to raise and fire, though.
"Lowered my gun. Will you come out now or what?" If someone was trying to attack or mug her she wanted to get it over with quickly.
A tall, African American boy slowly came around the corner and pointed his gun at Rell's head.
