Emmaline
I never grew up having a normal childhood. Since I was born I could see them, the zombies. My parents, Ali and Cole Holland trained me in battle. My brother and I are twins, and we each have our own abilities. He specializes in range weapons, and can go double the time being bitten as anyone else normally could. I, on the other-hand, can see bloodlines like my mother. I specialize in blades and close range weapons, also like my mother. Not to mention I look like her. The blonde hair and big curious blue eyes. But I'm fierce, and protective like my father. My brother has blue eyes like I do, but black hair like my dad. In our messed up, blood-filled lives, we still manage to make school work. Even though we're known as the "bad kids".
Oh, and one other thing, my brother and I can have visions, not just with each other, but other people. Glimpses of the future…...
I sat up in bed, my injuries from last night stretching and aching. I winced, but stood, and stretched anyway. Pain is weakness. I got dressed in a black t-shirt with a leather jacket and black jeans. I threw on black combat boots, and tied my long blonde hair into a ponytail. I stashed a knife in my jacket, a knife in my boot, another in my bag, and strapped an emergency antidote syringe onto my ankle. I glanced in the mirror and decided I looked like trouble enough to leave my room.
My brother was already downstairs, and without saying anything, slid a bowl of cereal to me, which I caught before it slid off the end of the table. I sat, and asked the simple question, "Mom and Dad?"
"Barn." My brother replied. I nodded, my father owned a barn where all the zombie slayers would go after school or work to train for a few hours.
"How's Psych class?" I asked, scooping cereal into my mouth. My brother was flipping through the newspaper, and replied,
"Good enough, when I can stay awake." I smirked, and he gave a small smile from behind the paper.
I stared at my brother for a while, he didn't want to make eye contact, that's how we get the visions, once a day usually, but not every day. He was wearing black jeans like me, but had on a red t-shirt and a grey sweatjacket. He had a pair of headphones around his neck, and had a grey beanie on his head. Not exactly bad-boy style, but enough to say "mess with me and you're dead." His features were dark except for his electric blue eyes I know he had.
Eventually my brother sighed, and made eye contact….
We were in battle, a new boy with us. Strange, we hardly got new kids, there were only 6 of us after all. 2 Hollands, obviously, 2 to Bronx and Reeve, and 2 each not from birth, but traumatic experience had joined us. I wondered who this kid could be. The vision kept moving, we were surrounded, at least three dozen zombies, but we were going through them quickly. I was lighting up, my entire body blazing, going from body to body, ashing. The boys were still fighting, waiting for me to move, but I was getting tired. How? I never got tired, not unless I was losing focus. Why was I losing focus? Questions were coming rapid fire as the vision came to a close. I hadn't gotten a good look at the new boy, but he had blonde hair and was tall.
"Huh" My brother huffed, which meant he was just as confused as I was. I shook my head, and grabbed a last spoonful of cereal.
"Come on, or we'll be late. Not that anyone thinks we care." I said, pushing away from the table, and stalking out of the kitchen.