One might wonder how many catastrophes in human history can be directly linked to the wish of a child given the power to command the unlimited potential of a magical creature, creatures that can defy every scientific law. Of course others have indirectly set off chain reactions leading to some very horrible events. Two of these now…let's call them extinct for lack of a better term, extinct creatures granted wishes that led to a disease that ravaged a continent and a global war. Rules were set in place to avoid repeats of the devastation brought on by the wrong child being given fairies but nothing, as many of you will know from experience, is ever foolproof. Not every child who is unhappy is given wand wielding guardians, some have certain…worrisome traits or there are simply others in greater need. Well one manipulative child slipped through the checks, a child who lacked empathy and took great pleasure in the suffering of others. This child studied the rule book for years before making two wishes that would change the world. Careful wording led to the spread of a virus that reanimated dead flesh so long as the brain was undamaged and spread through bodily fluids. Believe it or not, there is no rule to prevent a zombie, werewolf, vampire, or any similar transformation outbreaks as long as it is described in a roundabout way that doesn't use the actual word. Second, for the immediate existence termination of any living organism not originating on the planet known as Earth, third planet from a sun with a minimum of 8 true planets orbiting around it in the galaxy humans refer to as the Milky Way, that could or in the future cure the virus. Oh and any items wished for, especially those that could be advantageous to have in a zombie apocalypse, were to be poofed into oblivion. With no way to stop the crisis the unfortunate fairy assigned to the child, who had pleaded with his superiors to release him from the child's clutches due to extreme circumstances that posed a potential threat to the human race, was forced to comply. Any child who had, had fairies at the time of the wish would keep their memories and slowly realize what someone must have done, and that there was no way to undo it.

Of the hundreds of thousands of children suddenly without their fairies, Timmy Turner was one of the few to survive the first three years of the outbreak. Twelve when the virus first spread, at fifteen he had lost nearly everything. For a year his friend A.J.'s parents took the Turners, McBadbats, Elmer, Tootie, and her parents in. Their survival shelter wasn't meant for so many, feeding a dozen people quickly depleted resources and led to a heartbreaking decision. Cruel as it may seem, the genius' parents pointed weapons at the others, telling them to leave or die. Survival for their son and themselves overpowered their need to help the remainder of the group. The other parents fought and pleaded with them, finally begging for their children to be allowed to stay, but it wasn't to be. With nothing else working violence erupted, Tootie's parents were killed in the struggle, forcing the remaining seven to run for their lives. That had been a terrible day, the brunette had dragged a screaming, struggling Tootie from the bodies of her parents and it was only thanks to Chester that they hadn't lost her too.

So where were seven people to go in a city full of walking corpses? None of them knew how to kill, use a weapon, or survive in any way. The Turners wanted to go to the mega store for supplies but Mr. McBadbat was adamant they find somewhere to stay first. Arguing, the adults decided to split up, Elmer and Tootie went with former baseball player and the other boys went with the Turners. Chester insisted on going with his best friend, saying he would be a bigger help with carrying supplies back than Elmer or Tootie. A quick stop at the former Turner residence to grab anything that could be used as a weapon proved pointless. Besides a few kitchen knives there wasn't anything they could use, anything decent having been stolen months ago. At the insistence of his parents they went without any weapons, the argument at the time had been outrunning zombies worked so what did they need weapons for? How wrong they were.

Looking back, it was really stupid to go there; anyone else that was living would have already taken anything useful or edible during the year they were hiding in the bunker. Place was huge, who needs a store that big anyway? All front aisles had been picked clean, all the ones that got light from the shattered windows. Going any further back would mean walking around in the dark and the groaning of the walking dead would make it a suicide mission. But there were some flashlights and batteries still lying around, with the words 'good luck' next to them written in what was probably blood. Timmy and Chester had seen more than enough zombie movies to know what the priority should be, the section of the store dedicated to camping and hunting goods to see if they could find anything useful. Rather than argue with his parents, insisting they could manage without, the boys took off armed with their flashlights. His parents had yelled after them but did little good. The boys made their way cautiously through the store, keeping as much distance between them and the telltale moans of the dead as they could, walking around the various goods left scattered on the floor, and occasionally back tracking to avoid a, hopefully, dead body. Once they turned a corner to find several bodies riddled with bullet holes and obvious signs they'd been fed on. One man's intestines were hanging out, a woman who's face had been torn away to expose her broken skull, the stench alone had them fighting not to vomit but the sight had both emptying their stomachs. Taking a different route the pair finally arrived at their destination, shocked to find some guns, ammo, and other weapons still there. Chester picked up the sword from behind the counter, joking that he should bring it back for Tootie, but when they heard some shuffling nearby they grabbed what they could and quickly made their way back to the front. That had been the worst part. Metal clinked softly as they moved; Chester wasn't able to use his flashlight because his free hand was being used to muffle the noise from his bag. So they were down to a single beam of light, it was nerve wracking to have to quickly check nothing was sneaking up behind them while leaving the path ahead black.

And Chester was starting to get to that I'm-so-terrified-I-have-to-talk point. It started as quiet mumbling but his voice had been growing to a whisper over the past few minutes.

"Makes ya wish we were playing Slender man again doesn't it?" Chuckling nervously the blonde readjusted the bag.

"A bit yeah."

"…Sorry man, I know I shouldn't be talking."

"S'fine, we're almost back to the front."

"Then what?"

"It'll be dark soon, I say go back."

"What about your parents?"

"They're either waiting for us or already heading back; I doubt they'd be stupid enough to stay back here for too long." At least I hope he thought to himself.

The quick exchange seemed to put his friend at ease since he was quiet until they reached the front. There was no sign of Mr. or Mrs. Turner, no note to say they'd headed back, but they were forgetful about that sort of thing. To put off leaving the boys went through their haul, a couple of guns, thankfully the right ammo for them, hunting knives, a machete, and a crossbow. No they did not get any arrows for it; they'd decide if it was worth another trip for them later, the sun was setting. With no other choice they redistributed the haul between them so they could each have a free hand for a weapon, the machete for Chester, hunting knife for Timmy and left. Neither of them said anything about the fact that the Turner parents hadn't come out, it would be fine right? Nothing to get upset about, they'd come back, they always came back.

Back at the place the group had split up earlier they found Mr. McBadbat, relieved to see them both safe. He led them to a house with boarded up windows and a fence all the way around the house. Not much but it was defendable. Fishing line, cans, and utensils hung along the fence as a warning system. Inside Elmer and Tootie were huddled together in the living room, both jumping up to hug their friends. That night was a long one, none of them slept, Mr. McBadbat spent the time teaching them gun basics to keep their minds off it all, to keep Tootie grounded so her sorrow didn't swallow her and to take Timmy's off his parents' absence. Another couple of guns were in the house, a decent stash of ammo, and a cleaning kit that they were all taught to use. Morning came, with it a more urgent need to find food to keep them going. Every house in the neighbor hood had been picked clean so it was back to the super store in hopes the food in the back was still there. Bucky left the kids in the house, wanting them to stay put to rest, and went on his own with one of the knives, a gun, and flashlight.

All day the four of them sat there quietly coming to terms with what was, had, and could happen. At one point the raven haired girl broke down in sobs over the loss of her family, her parents were gone and there was no telling what became of her sister. Even though her sister was a terrible person, the kind hearted girl wished she knew what happened to her, the redhead had gone into the city one morning and later that day hordes of dead flooded the streets. Her friends tried to comfort her, saying her sister was a strong person who was probably fine, tyrant of some group out there somewhere living like the queen she always thought she was. After a while they were laughing at the crazy things they put up with when she babysat. A nice distraction until the door opened, the older blonde saw four kids looking like deer caught in the headlights sitting in the living room, he had a sack full of supplies; food, basic camping supplies (canteens, flint, things of that sort), some medicine, and a couple survival/field medicine books. His grim expression was all the brunette needed, some part of him knew that was why they weren't waiting for him and Chester the day before but hope kept him from accepting it. Four of nine dead in two days, if they wanted to survive they'd have to be quick learners.

Three weeks later they were leaving Dimmsdale in a beat up car that was still running, miraculously not taken by anyone else despite a full tank. In those weeks they each learned to kill and fight zombies, how to use a couple different weapons, started to brush up on the skills they learned in squirrely scouts and cream puffs, and got more supplies. Before they left, Tootie insisted they go to her house and there they found a stash of medieval weapons, few of which were practical to take with them but there were some a couple more modern weapons that they took with them…and some of the accessories, locks with keys, chains, a dismantled flamethrower with plenty of extra fuel containers. Surprisingly the lone adult was going to continue taking care of three additional thirteen year olds. None of them was that good at surviving so he would be taking care of all four of them and himself for a while. The easier thing would be to abandon the three but he wasn't that kind of person. Life would be real tough but if something happened to him at least his son would have other people to help him through it all and surely between the four of them they could all be good enough at something to survive.

Eighteen months later the group was mourning, well the remainder of them. They'd all grown to be capable, Tootie once had to fend for herself for two weeks after they were separated when they ran into a horde, able to hunt, scavenge, and could make a camp without any help from Mr. McBadbat. He'd grown proud of them all, treating all of them like his own, confident they could do well should something happen. Sadly while they were making a dangerous run into a city to find ammo and medicine they were trapped in an alley. Forty or so dead coming at them and the only way out was a fire escape that's ladder leading to the street was stuck. Timmy and Chester had become quite the duo, able to predict each other's actions without a word. Normally they made runs on their own. It was quicker, safer, and easier, they didn't have to worry about keeping up with the others or compensating plans that worked well for two to accommodate five. Close calls in the past usually let them win arguments about being fine leaving the others behind, you grow up fast in this new world and learn to accept that as a parent. This time the adult refused to split up. His son was sick, still well enough to go on a run, but extra eyes couldn't hurt. At least that was the thought process. Now the pair were trying to keep the horde at bay, it was a narrow alleyway which was helping some, but they were limited to the machete and hunting knife.

Elmer ran to help when Chester was forced to back off by the brunette. They were driving knives into skulls but with so many pushing forward there was little hope of it doing any good. Try as they might they were still being pushed back soon they wouldn't be able to reach the fire escape. So the pair did one of the most desperate things one can do in a city full of zombies, pulled out guns and started to shoot as gave Tootie a boost up to the ladder. She tried to get it to go down the rest of the way with no luck.

"Forget it just climb." The adult shouted, already helping his son up.

"Shit!" Timmy's gun clicked as it ran out of bullets. Without his bullets to help the horde was able to move towards them faster. Running he was the next one helped up the ladder, pushing the other two to the next ladder to make room.

"Come on Elmer, hurry!" Now there was nothing stopping them from advancing. The last teen grabbed the bottom rung, Bucky still holding him up, when the first reached the man.

"DAD!" the blonde turned to help his dad, but the girl shoved him to the next ladder.

"We can't help him now go!"

Timmy reached down to drag his friend up the ladder. Time slowed when a loud clang broke through the sound of the screams, flesh ripping, and moaning. In horror the brunette watched as the ladder released the rest of the way down, dooming his friend.

He couldn't move as he watched the scene below him, watched as the pair were eaten alive in front of him. One bite into the teen's neck, tearing a chunk away and spraying blood.

"Come on, Timmy we have to go." Tootie was by his side, speaking gently but tugging his arm to get him to move.

Blinking back tears he looked at her, "give me your gun."

"Timmy we can't –"

"Please." Silently she handed it over and watched as he carefully aimed, shooting both of the doomed men in the head.

Hours later they were back at camp. Huddled together by the fire with a bag of untouched supplies they collected where the other two of their group normally sat. The blonde was staring into the fire, his friend's hand on his shoulder. Words were useless now, all they could do was silently support one another. Tootie had her head on the brunette's shoulder, holding hands.

"Thanks, for what you did." Chester's voice was thick from crying earlier and from holding back more tears.

"Yeah."

"Promise to do that for me."

Tootie whimpered, "don't say that."

Standing up, the blonde looked at his best friend. "Dude, I want you to promise you won't let me turn into one of them."

"Only if you promise the same for me."

It was a promise the two would always keep and remind each other of. Only when the third member wasn't present, she didn't like discussing it. Losing anyone else was an unbearable thought to her, her boyfriend and friend were all she had left.

She never did have to lose anyone else. They all got sick that winter, hiding in a gas station behind a counter completely enclosed by bullet proof glass. None of them could go get medicine, the boys recovered, Tootie did not. Deciding they were well enough to go looking for medicine, the boys left her alone, it would be easier with them both and they made sure to secure the station before leaving. They were excited when they actually found the right medicine, suddenly hopeful she would be fine, but when they got back she was gone. It near killed them both. The brunette wanted to do what was right and keep her from turning. Someone had written a warning they saw when they first left Dimmsdale, about even people who weren't bitten could turn after they died. That wasn't something he wanted to happen to her. He couldn't bring himself to do it, instead his friend sent him outside. Later that night they left, a fresh grave left behind, walking for a few days to get rid of their grief.

Three months, that's how long it took them to get as close to normal as they could. It had been a little over a year since they lost her, they were now fifteen, and preferred it being just the pair of them. Sure they occasionally ran into another group, it was a scary thing. Of the four groups they'd run into one took all their weapons and supplies, which was why they now hid some anytime they made a new camp, one tried to kill them, and the other two were nice enough. They shared some knowledge, traded for things they needed, and recently they came across a map where the group that gave it to them marked where they were on it. Dimmsdale was on the map, it was pretty far off now, but there was something about going home that put them at ease. Before they knew it they were planning to return, if nothing else they could see how A.J. was doing. Neither had any doubts that the brainiac was perfectly fine, his yard completely impervious to attack by the dead or living, probably with a garden and now living in his home again. It took weeks to find a decent car to get them back but they found one. Were they nearly killed in the process? Yes, but that was the norm now. They joked about them now, a way to cope and keep themselves in good spirits.

Sitting in their newly acquired car, Timmy was driving for once, Chester was better at it and keeping a car going longer. In the passenger seat Chester was patching himself up, smiling at his friend now that they were finally going home.

"Here's to another near death experience."

"That wasn't a near death experience."

"You nearly drove into a gas tanker how is that not a near death experience? We could have gone KABOOM!" Both jumped when the blonde yelled then laughed it off. Two months of feeling like nothing could ever get better, that there was no point, they were determined to keep themselves happy now that life had a purpose again.

"I missed it!"

"By like an inch."

"Whatever."

"You know somethin'? You never would have been able to drive if this mess hadn't happened, no way in hell would anyone pass you on a driving test."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Hours later they finally passed the sign welcoming them to Dimmsdale. Their car stopped running about half a mile from A.J.'s but it didn't bother them. As they approached they realized something was horribly wrong, their friend's house was falling apart, there was no beefed up fence to protect it, and the bunker door was open. Quietly they shoved their packs under a nearby car, the blonde had taken the baseball bat out of his, and the brunette took his machete out of his. Walking into the yard, Timmy took point with his friend keeping a lookout for any dead that could surprise them. No lights shone inside the bunker, Chester handed his flashlight over. Turning it on the brunette went inside, a layer of dust covered everything, beds were made, the shelves were empty, everything in its place, neat and tidy. Something was very wrong, why would they abandon this place? Checking all spaces that could conceal them with no luck he went back outside.

"Anything?"

"Dust."

"Check the house?"

"Might as well."

Clearing a house was a well practiced, methodical thing for them, ground floor first, working towards any stairs, up the stairs, check every room, and then additional floors if there were any, basements were last. Nothing, they didn't find a single hint of what had happened to their friend on the ground or second floor. That left the basement, once again on point Timmy made his way downstairs with his friend behind him. A.J. used the space for a lab with a heavy door that could be locked from the inside with an emergency lock on the outside, a door that was open. Inside was something they wished they could forget. To their left was a decomposed corpse of what they assumed was their friend's father, it was hard to tell because something had eaten part of it long ago. Next to it was a shotgun, on the wall was a brown stain. That's when they heard the growling and clinking of metal on metal. There on a pair of lab was their friend and his mother. Their limbs secured to the table with restraints, needles and something in a beaker on another table nearby.

Figuring out what happened wasn't hard, just heart breaking. How long ago had this happened? If they'd been there months ago could this have been prevented? Grief was pushed aside to do what was necessary. They walked over to them, Chester at A.J., Timmy to the mother. Twin shots rang in the room for what seemed like an eternity.

For a while they sat there on the stairs grieving. But that only wasted precious time to find somewhere safe to spend the night. Knowing their friend didn't keep anything toxic in the house, they took everything flammable they could find and poured it throughout the house. Finally tossing a match at the front door before collecting their things, they never decided where to go, they just ended up at Timmy's old house. It wasn't boarded up, wasn't a good place to be, but they stayed anyway.

The next morning they spent wandering around, eventually ending up at Tootie's house to raid her sister's weapons stash. While they didn't want anything, they could probably trade for things they needed. Taking some of the swords and daggers they left for the super store to get some food. What they didn't know was some group passing through led a horde to it or that it was easy to get trapped in the fenced in parking lot.

By the time they realized it was a bust, their escape route was cut off. Guns were used to clear a path to the barbwire topped fence, if they could just get to it they could climb over and get away. Sure they'd be cut up after but better that than dead. Chester was over first, covering his friend while he climbed. Unfortunately he dropped his pack, the one with their meds, flint, everything that wasn't a weapon. Jumping back down he grabbed the bag, threw it over the fence, but failed to start climbing again. One reason was the small fleet of vehicles coming towards them, second was the rotter closing in on his friend.

"Chester!"

His friend didn't react fast enough, he was bitten on the shoulder before he could push it away and shoot it. Seconds later the brunette was kneeling next to his friend as a motorcycle leading the other vehicles stopped a few feet from them. The rider whipped out a gun and aimed it at the blonde's head, not expecting the brunette to fire at them as a reflect, hitting the stranger's shooting shoulder effectively disarming them.

Groaning the blonde looked at his friend with a sad smile. "Here's to another near death experience man."

"Don't fucking say that, it's not funny."

"I think it's hilarious."

The blonde was shoved out of the way so his friend was between him and the fleet of vehicles now stopped around them with his gun aimed at the first person to exit a vehicle. A dozen other weapons were pointed at him as one of them went over to the biker, who he now noticed had bright red hair. And pink eyes.

"Vicky?" If two people hadn't been bleeding and guns aimed, hearing both teens speaking in the same tone of disbelief at the same time would have been comical. However those were the circumstances so it was more one of those moments that makes you raise your eyebrows and go 'Really? Of all the things you could say you chose that?'.

With a wave of her hand the redhead silently commanded all weapons lowered, the brunette found himself doing the same.

"Well, well, well, this is unexpected." She said.

"Fuck, dude just toss me back over the fence."

"How about I shoot you in the head?" she offered, laughing when he shook his head.

"Nah that's okay, Timmy's supposed to do it."

Pushing the person helping her aside she looked at her former victims, one with a death sentence and the other looking like he'd lost everything. She should get it over with but if there was an agreement between them already then so be it.

"Bring 'em."

"What?" One of the others said.

"I said bring 'em"

"Boss don't want someone bit in camp."

"He won't go to the camp, we'll stop outside of it, let the boyfriends say a heartfelt goodbye, and he'll be put out of his misery."

Huh, so she's not in charge, but she's got some power. Rather than let them argue more, one guy, big muscley man with arms covered in tattoos, dragged both to the truck he was driving and told them to get into the truck's bed. Someone else took the liberty of taking their packs and their weapons. On the way to wherever they were going Timmy looked at his friend, they made that promise so long ago and he would go through with it but he wished he didn't have to. When they finally did stop the redhead jumped out of a vehicle ahead of them and told them to get out.

The muscle man stayed with the truck as the older woman led the teens to a place littered with graves and a couple of pre-dug graves.

"Chill, we always keep a couple ready." She watched as the two exchanged looks, little Twerp wasn't ready to do this but no one ever is. Better to get it over with than make the person suffer though, "believe me, it's better not to wait."

"You say that like killing my friend is easy."

"Dude that's not what you're doin'."

"Yes it is! That is exactly what I'm being asked to do."

"Turner," both looked at the normally unfeeling woman, she looked…sorry, "you get bit you get sick, it kills you, it's painful and slow and it's a shitty thing to watch anyone go through."

"You promised dude, please, I don't wanna be one of them."

That's when the brunette broke down, causing the uncomfortable redhead to walk away. He had agreed to something without knowing what it would put him through. Here he was about to shoot the last person alive that mattered to him, everyone else was gone, how was he going to keep going? How the hell was his friend so calm? Hugging his friend he forced himself to pull it together, mourning waited, it had to wait until all was said and done.

"You're the best friend a guy could ask for ya know? I know what I'm asking you to do sucks but you're helping me, keeping me from being one of them and suffering." Thinking for a second he added, "promise you won't give up, you gotta keep fighting man."

With a laugh the brunette dried his eyes, "I'll try, promise."

"Good."

He wasn't sure when he'd been given a gun again, probably before Vicky walked off. One last goodbye, one last joke, one last grave covered.

In the back of the truck he cried. Whatever was ahead he would have to face alone, he could do it, he knew how, but he didn't want to be alone. Being with people he cared about gave him hope everything would be alright. Now with the last of them gone, what was left to hope for?