A/N: Hi! I'm not dead! Probably.

This is an alternate ending the Acts of Mercy, which I had actually considered at one point. It takes place right after Chapter 11, so there are spoilers.

It still felt hot under my palms, but I didn't care if it burned me.

He was just laying there, in the dark of the cave, bear-stink up my nose, blood soaking his sweater.

The sweater I gave him.

It was over.

Somehow, in a twisted sort of manner, I felt it was better that it'd ended this way. No long speeches, or last dying words or some shit. If there had been, then I might've thought there was still something in there. Some human part of him.

Instead, all I'd done was put a rabid animal out of its misery.

I still felt like crap, all the same.

The body was light.

Too damn light.

It still felt feverish, though it was cooling down pretty quick.
This time, I didn't care if I got blood on my jacket.

I buried him, not so close to The Cabin so I'd see him all the time, but not too far that I'd forget.

I don't think I'll forget this, though, in any case.

As I was digging the hole, pushing the shovel through the frozen ground and getting blisters on my hands for my efforts, half of me was thinking, You've just killed a monster.

Nothing more.

Then the other half was thinking, You've just killed someone's son. Someone's brother, someone's nephew, someone's best friend.

And you've just shot the man you loved.

Later, on, I'd look back on it and not even care. Guess it was my dead-mode again; that voice in my head, telling me, It was only a matter of time before he had to die. Just be glad you got out of this whole.

Maybe I did. Maybe I didn't.

I don't know.

I went around normally in the days after that. Sometimes, when I was chopping wood or checking the traps, I'd see a squirrel running around, or I'd be in the cabin and trip over some book I left lying out, and I'd stop and look and remember, the kind of remembering that hurts.

But then, the cold part of me would take over, and I'd push on.

I'd see helicopters, too, flying overhead, just like before, but they'd never stop, just keep going to wherever it is they went; and every time I'd heard one whooshing by, I'd feel a little stab in my chest.

After awhile, they stopped coming.

I don't know what's going on out there, in the cities, or in the rest of the country, for that matter. I'm safe in The Cabin, just like dad wanted. That's all that matters.

I don't want to see another zombie for as long as I live. One falling from the sky broke my heart; I don't think I can take any more.

Winter's coming, I have more important things to worry about.

The world can burn without me.

A/N: Just a quick drabble. A heartwrenching one, yes, but a drabble nonetheless.

Some news: Survivor's Guilt is 75% written. Yaaaaay! *Kermit flail*

Keep an eye on my Author's Page and Tumblr for updates/behind the scenes stuff/stupid shit that I post. I'll probably be needing a Beta Reader fairly soon, so check for updates and send me a PM if you're game.

Keep watching!

-Author