Zombies were everywhere. Their blood was covering me and the rest of the road. I could discreetly sneak past them, since I was drenched in their blood and guts. Even my hair looked like it was dyed with the crimson color. My knives were neatly arranged in my belt, two in my hands. I stabbed the no-brainers in the head as I passed, easy kills.

It reminded me of when I'd first been told about this apocalypse. I wasn't one to be dramatic, so when there was a world full of dead people, stumbling around, eating other dead humans, I began fighting. I'd survived for a while, but the deadlings just kept returning.

One noticed me, started scrambling to inform the others that there was fresh meat nearby. So, I did what I do best. Kill them all. Stabs to the head were happening as quick as I could manage, yet they were getting faster. Their decaying brains were becoming of use to them. Teeth were snapping, hands were groping the air, and my body picked up the pace. There were only twenty left now, so the rest wouldn't be that hard. Arrows and bullets came out of nowhere, aiding me in the battle, yet I didn't know who it was, so I kept up with the knives until there was only one left. It stared at me, perked it's head to the side like a dog, as if it were still alive, then returned to its hungry-for-human state. I stuck my knife through the skull without another thought.

I wiped some red liquid from my face and nodded to the trees, noticing a silhouette. I turned around and picked up my knife from the last victim's head, ready to walk away, when a voice called out, "Come with me."

"No," I responded, looking to the ground, "I'm a lone wolf."

"Why? I have a group, just a mile away, in this huge prison, we have more than enough room for you." I could now tell that it was a boy's voice, somewhere around my age.

"Like I'd tell you my reasoning on being alone." I chuckled lowly.

"Oh, c'mon, kid. You don't seriously want to be alone during an apocalypse, do you?" Another voice sounded, "I'm Daryl."

"And I'm your worst nightmare." I grinned psychotically, glancing up to see a man wearing a leather jacket. I threw my jagged knife, missing him by a hair. Not a second later, a bullet was piercing my right arm. "Watch it, I can still use my left arm!" I yelled at the shooter angrily.

"Let's bring her back. Least we can do is help her heal." Daryl decided, reaching forward to grab my hand.

I hissed at him and leapt back. "Don't even dare. I was fine without you two clowns, I'll be fine now." I began stomping away, only to get pulled back by my left arm. "Get away!" I pushed them back, only now noticing it was the mystery boy.

"We're only trying to help!" He shouted from the ground.

"Yeah, well go help someone else! I have a bullet wound to heal!" I retorted.

This time, they let me get pretty far. Of course, they didn't let me leave completely, because soon enough, I felt someone pick me up and carry me the opposite direction. "Put me down, now!" I screeched, hitting them in the back as hard as I could. Daryl smirked at me from a few feet away, following with a piece of duct tape.

The tape was stuck over my mouth, so I couldn't scream, and my hands were cuffed together. I huffed and looked around for a while. I guess I'd just have to entertain myself. Just as I thought that, the boy adjusted me in his arms so he could carry me bridal style. I glared at him. "My name is Carl, in case you were wondering." He stated softly.

I rolled my eyes. Like I actually cared what his name was. He was just another guy. Yet, my stomach felt funny when he looked at me. Like he was supposed to mean something to me. I know, I know, big shocker, I can actually feel emotions.

"Carl, get her into a cell and keep her cuffed to the bed, okay? I'm getting your dad." Daryl began wandering off to a different building than us.

Luckily, when he was out of sight, Carl ripped the tape off. I didn't care anymore. He just wanted me to talk to him, which means I'll keep quiet. Later, when he tells me to shut up, I'll annoy him with a whole load of shit.

I'm cuffed to the bed, as Daryl demanded, but at least Carl has enough decency to leave it loose, unlike a few minutes ago, when I was ready to bleed, due to the hand cuffs. "If you need anything, just call." With that, Carl left.

I really wished I wear bobby pins in my hair now. I could have unlocked the cuffs. I glanced around, noticing I was alone. I opened my mouth, and began singing, the words flowing from my lips like a waterfall. "I ruled the world, with these hands I shook the heavens to the ground. I laid the gods to rest."

"I held the key to the kingdom, lions guarding castle walls, hail the king of death."

I shuddered at the lyrics, yet continued on until I was out of words to use. The song had deep meaning to me. When I was going on a run with my sister and brother, a weekly thing for us, we got into some trouble with the zombies, and they never were the fastest runners. . .

"Zoe, let's go! C'mon, we have what we need!" I whispered across the store to my sister, who was shoving candy in her bag until it was full.

She started running towards me and Dale, when a zombie got in the way. Without thought, I plunged my axe into its horribly smelling head. Dale wasn't even bothered by the fact that I just re-killed it. That's why I'm scared. They're both growing up too fast.

Zoe skillfully jumped over a few dead things, then the three of us booked it out of there. Our parents didn't know we do these night-time trips.

The youngest of us nearly blew our cover with a scream. A zombie was lunging for him, and I wasn't able to reach him. Dale kicked it forcefully, and I threw my knife, but it hit the horrific beast's neck instead. The metal piercing it was enough time for me to leap forward, another one in hand. I made a sweeping motion, and its head was rolling on the ground a second later.

"Close call, dork." Zoe snickered.

"It's okay, everyone messes up now and then. Even me." I said softly, caressing Dale's cheek for a second.

"Jade, we have a problem. A huge herd, coming our way." Zoe interrupted the family moment.

I glanced ahead, peering with cautious eyes, and sure enough, there was a large group of dead people coming straight for us. I ushered my siblings the other way, found a couple others on the way, but we avoided them easily. They couldn't match our long, fast strides with their small, slow shuffles. The only problem; we couldn't run forever; they could.

We were slowing down eventually, and we were nowhere near our mom and dad. We were going to die, I knew it, but I wasn't about to admit it out loud. I'll keep fighting until I'm one of them. I'd go through hell and get tortured by Satan himself, if it meant my siblings had a better life. Their death is unnecessary.

I picked them up, hauling them over my shoulders, trying to sprint as best I could. They were double my weight, we all knew that, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to do my best to save them. I spotted a town ahead, and my legs somehow started moving faster. So did the decaying cannibals.

The rest happened so fast, I barely remember it. I was at the gate, when Dale dropped his teddy, and demanded to get it. I tried to stop him, Zoe did too.

They were pulled one way, and I was pulled another. The hands that tore us apart were different. Theirs were bony, dead, and harsh, while mine were clean, alive, and welcoming.

That day was the day that I lost it all. My entire world dropped that day. The tears that usually come with that memory were staining my cheeks. I muttered a cuss and wiped them away. I'd sing another song, but my voice would sound like a dying camel, since my crying wouldn't stop.

I lay down, trying to even my breathing. The entire cell block was silent, it must have been empty. Then, as I finally calmed down, someone entered the cell. He was pushing a cart of tools for surgeries, which scared me, but his appearance made me smile. He looked like Santa.

"I'm Hershell, Daryl told me you have a bullet wound, so I'm here to help." He said, offering a small smile.

"Just get it out, then you can leave me to die here." I snarled. Just because he was here to help didn't mean I was gonna be nice.

"What's your name?" His attempt at conversation made me realize something.

For the past 2 years, I'd been completely alone, nobody ever called me by my name. I could make one up and these fools would never know. A new name. I pondered on it for a moment before answering, "My name is unimportant, get the metal out of me and I'll tell you."

He nodded and got to work on my arm.