"Th----they got me." The girl whispered, her hand grasped her left forearm, trickles of blood seeping through her fingers. "They got me, Zack." She repeated, her own voice cracked with tears. Her eyes looked like they had when he first found her a year ago, hopeless and terrified.
"Sasha.." he fell to his knees, pulling her to his chest, holding her close.
"I don't want to be one of those things! Oh god." She sobbed into his shirt, hot tears streaming down her already cooling cheeks. "I thought we would make it..."
"Hush." He stroked her hair soothingly. "We'll get through this. Don't worry baby." He was rocking gently back and forth.
"Don't leave me." She pleaded. "Please. You can't. I don't want to die alone"
His stomach tightened with guilt. She didn't notice him reaching for the combat knife that lay discarded by her side. "I wont, sweetheart, I wont. We'll stick together." All she heard was the sickening crack of bone as the knife slid through her skull and into her occipital lobe. Her fragile body gave a single spasm before she lay dead in his arms.
He laid her down on the dirty tile, relieving her corpse of the Glock shoved in her waistband. He was alone again. He wondered how many non-infected humans there were left or if he'd wander alone until he too became one of them. Then he decided he didn't much care as he raised the gun to his own temple, and squeezed the trigger.