((Welcome to my first One-shot! Criticism and reviews greatly appreciated. Warning; there's main character death, and Sort-of Yandere!Canada. Hope you enjoy!))

Sacrifices

With his heavy boots slapping against the pavement, Matthew was running frantically for his life, blindly shooting over his left shoulder at the horde of mindless cadavers chasing him down at their top speed. He was trapped, basically. He was running down a long and narrow main street that was littered with cars on either side and had no turn-offs that he could see. He was starting to run out of breath, and his bag thrown over his shoulder started to get even heavier. He considered stopping and jumping into a car for safety, but he knew it would not last long.

"'Ey Matt, this way!" The voice of his brother called from farther ahead. "Under the bus, dude!" Matt's eyes followed to where he heard the noise. A small alleyway that was closed off to the main street by a large bus settled right in-front of the entry way.

With a deep preparing sigh, he picked up the pace and sprinted towards the bus. At the last second, he dropped down and slid under the bus, hanging onto his bag for dear life. Effectively scraping up his legs in the process, he scrambled up from under the bus. But he was safe, and that was all that mattered. "Nice going bro!" Alfred, his brother, called, jogging towards him.

"T-Thanks but we're not out of the woods yet." Matthew muttered, taking a look around the closed off alleyway.

"Don't worry about it dude!" The American chimed, "There's a ladder leading up to the roof tops and we can use them to get across the city in like,no time!"

Matthew sighed. He never expected his brother to come up with such a plausible idea. But, he thought, maybe this apocalypse was changing him in ways Matthew never noticed. He shook his head at the thought. Alfred didn't change one bit, he thought sourly.

Following closely behind the blonde American, they headed towards the aging metal ladder. It looked like it had seen much better days, but as Alfred shook it; it looked safe enough. Alfred decided on going first to test the ladder, and Matthew stationed himself at the bottom in case the ladder gave way and he had to catch his brother. With a thumbs up, Alfred began his ascent of the ladder. It was eerily quiet, and the only thing that could be heard was the ambiance of the groaning herd that Matthew had duped back on the street.

After a few slow minutes, Alfred had reached the roof-top; which meant that the ladder was safe. Heaving his back-pack farther up his shoulder, Matthew grabbed the first rung, and began his ascent as well. Looking off to the side as he raised high enough to be able to see above the bus, he saw something horrifying. So horrifying it almost stopped him in his tracks.

The herd of undead were standing directly in front of the bus, staring directly at him with their cold, unseeing. (or so he thought) eyes. An involuntary shiver went down his spine and he picked up the pace, practically scrambling up the ladder. 'Once I get on the roof, i'm safe.' He thought, and his panic slowly subsided.

After hauling himself up on to the roof-top, he dropped his back-pack over near the air-conditioning vents near his brothers and he jogged to the edge of the roof closest to him; the one that was above the main street. He could vaguely hear Alfred's grunting and struggling with moving some object. He was about to go help his brother with whatever is was, but as he looked down, the panic that he felt on the ladder came flooding back in. He was looking directly down at the herd, who were completely silent and still, looking back up at him. He felt like screaming, but he just backed away from the edge. After a few steps, he bumped into someone, and he whipped his head around.

It was only Alfred.

"Heh, y-you scared me..." He chuckled, lightheartedly. However, there was no response from Alfred. His brother was standing still, looking down at the edge of the building, his arms hanging limply at his sides. Narrowing his eyes, Matthew lightly touched his brother's arm. "A-are you okay...ALFRED!" He shouted, as his brother had whipped his pistol out of his back holster. "P-put that away!" He pleaded. "The horde is down there, y-you don't need that!"

The American finally raised his head to look at his brother, his blue eyes cold and calculating behind his glasses. "The herd is following you." He said, his jovial tone replaced with one of utter disappointment. His hand twitched on the gun, his grip tightening dangerously on the trigger.

Matthew shook his head. "Th-They're following both of us! If we just hurry up we can-"

"No."

Matthew's plea was interrupted as Alfred raised his gun, pointing it straight between Matthew's eyes. The Canadian blanched, his stomach churning nervously. This was his own brother! There was no way that... "As long as I have you with me, I can't out-run the horde...But they need to be distracted." Alfred said, inching closer to Matthew, who inched away; towards the edge. "

W-What are you saying? They're just zombies; they aren't that-" He felt a very dangerous lack of floor under his heel, and as he spun his head around, he saw the herd just below him raising their hands, reaching out for him. He whipped his head back at his brother, who had lowered the gun. He was eyeing Matthew carefully; but Matthew knew what he was going to do.

Almost simultaneously, Alfred lunged forward to shove Matthew off, but Matthew flung himself to the left of his brother, slamming himself down on the rooftop's harsh concrete. Unfortunately for Alfred; he had bumped into Matthew halfway to the edge,so he lost his footing and he couldn't stop once he started falling forward. And over the edge he went.

He would have gone all the way down if it wasn't for his arm shooting out and grabbing the edge at the last second, which left him dangling just a few feet above the reach of the herd of corpses. Even with all the upper body strength he possessed; Alfred couldn't bring his other arm up to help pull himself back onto the roof-top, as panic was setting in as he looked down at the oh-so-hungry horde.

Matthew crawled his way over to Alfred, making eye-contact with the pitiful looking American. "M-Mattie! Help me please!" He shouted, his pleas falling on deaf ears and tears falling from his blue eyes. Matthew grabbed his brother's hand, removing it from the edge; but holding onto it with both his own hands. Matthew laughed, leaning down towards his brother.

"Now I can say it was in self-defense."

Alfred's eyes widened as he realized all too late that he wasn't coming out of this alive. Matthew slowly let go of his hand, one finger at a time, and eventually his brother fell straight into the mosh pit of cadavers. The screams started instantly; and they were music to the Canadians ears. With a crooked smile, Matthew sat there and stared for a moment, before turning back to grab his brother's bag and his own. He had to get moving while the herd was completely distracted. That gave him a long while; Alfred was a lot to chew. Laughing at his own joke, Matthew hopped the small space from that building to the next.

Not looking back. Only forward. After all: You needed to make sacrifices these days. And it didn't bother Matthew in the slightest.