Summary – I was an artist, I was a friend, I was a daughter. Now, I am alone trapped in another country with the dead wanting to tear into me. I haven't lost my sanity, but I draw the dead. Those who I've killed, a reminder they we're once human. I like to remember them, give the dead the life that was taken.
Ripping the brush through the mess that was my hair, I sighed as I felt the left side of my skull become void of any hair. Sitting with my legs swung over the edge of a building ledge, my feet hitting the wall making an irregular and familiar pattern of noises that would remind you of the old world. Where music still existed and was more regular than anything else.
"Why don't you just cut your hair off?" The rough voice of my older brother rang out in the silence of the dead city.
"No, it reminds me that I am a woman. Not a soldier" I reply.
"There are no soldiers, the weak inherited the earth" he replies, plopping down beside me.
"I'm not weak" I mutter, glancing to him.
"We run, soldiers fight that's why they're walking dead bodies and we're walking dead bodies that can think" he replies.
"Occasionally" I reply, he gives me a quizzical look.
"We occasionally think" I reply, looking to the ground of the building I watched as a few of the dead, smelled our presence their snapping jaws and groans echoing through the stagnant air.
"When do you reckon we'll die?" My brother asks me, I frown and look to him cocking my head.
"Maybe tomorrow, maybe a year from now or maybe even twenty years, who cares anymore really, the world aint worth living in" I reply.
"Do you reckon we should end it then? Jump from here, the fall should kill us or feed ourselves to the dead?" He says, looking down at the growling crowd.
"No, God has given us a game to play. I'm going to finish the game with 100 percent not 50 percent" I snap, looking to my brother.
We'd lasted so long, why quit now? I knew life was quite strange now, but why quit? It could be worse, we had each other. We've encountered several humans alone and scared. More often than not finding what is left of them a few hours later.
There was one man, nearly an adult. He'd barely got any chest hair, befriended us. Agreed to join us, take us to the shore. Get a boat, live off the coast. We had almost made it, about a day's walk. I woke up to the sound of a rustle; I thought it was the dead. Instead it was him, taking off with a months' worth of supplies and a six inch blade wedged into my brothers shoulder. We caught up with him a month later; maybe it was something to do with violence being the only way to survive in this world anymore. But by the time I was done with him, even my brother could never look me in the eye for a week. We had to abandon the boat idea, too many to get away. It'd be a suicide mission, trying to start the boat or even getting out far enough with all the boats rusting out. Until now I didn't think he or I would ever come to that point. Not whilst we had each other, we're the only family either of us has left.
"I won't go until you want to go, I can't leave my little sister I guess" he shrugs and nudges me.
"Thanks, I feel so assured now" I mumble, continuing to make the pattern of noises with my feet.
"Do you reckon our parents made it?" He asks, I drop my gaze from the horizon to my lap.
"I don't know, Australia isn't as gun happy as other nations. It may be harder to survive there then here" I reply, he sighs and runs his hand through his un-kept hair.
"I like to think there held up somewhere safe, waiting for their babies to find a way home" he says.
"We'll get home eventually, a apocalypse only lasts for so long" I try to say convincingly, it fails and falls flat.
"You're not stupid, this won't end not in our lifetime anyway" he says, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and pulls me tight for a hug.
"Come on, we'll pack up the food and head out" he says, releasing me and standing up.
"Alright, we're to next then boss?" I offer, he shrugs jumping down on the roof.
"Maybe Kansas, I want to stay as south as possible. I figure when the government rebuilds they'll work their way up from the south, we'll be in the safe zone quicker than if we head north" he replies.
"We're not in Kansas anymore Toto" I say with the same twang as Judy Garland.
"Come on loser, I'll find you that movie eventually" he says, I laugh and pick up my bag to join him.
"Oh and in what century could I watch a movie and not attract the dead from all corners of the globe?" I ask, pushing past him.
"We'll figure it out, we always do, it's an Australian thing I guess" he laughs.
"You never were a good guesser, come on" I reply, grabbing the axe that I guess you would call my weapon of choice. Slipping my bag over my shoulder, my axe in one hand I slip into a makeshift holder that sits on my thigh, it clips in safely and pulls out easy.
Wrapping up six cans of canned corn and peaches, it's no lobster and freshly steamed vegetables but it's better than starving to death. Which I'm sure plenty of men and woman have, I remember we broke into a small county jail in South Carolina. Inmates that were locked in we're safe from the dead, they weren't safe from natural causes. We learnt quickly that we're all infected with the virus. When the starved begin to walk, we know that no man shall survive the cruel mistress that is death's mind game.
Slipping down the barrier once we packed our food and our sleeping bags, they were the best thing you could get next to an actual bed. Heading towards our getaway car, we for some reason named 'Velma' I think it had to to with its inconspicuous neon orange colour. We'd been running with this baby since the beginning, comfy seats, heaps of room and amazing air-con/ heater. Ugh, so good! It's become a guilty pleasure the heater or air con. Yes, it wastes fuel but who is there to judge? Thousands of cars with petrol just waiting for us to siphon, they're scattered everywhere. I gather were at a 5000 to one human ratio, I think it's safe to say we won't run out of fuel from cars for a little while. If so, we'll strip her. Everything you take needs more than one purpose, or it's not worth having with you. Slipping into the passenger seat, my brother clipped a child on the way, the small body falling to the ground. I put my head down and sighed, some of them almost look human. They have a few hour window, were the dead could mix in with the living if only briefly and their eyes were concealed. This child had only reanimated, his clean clothes and brushed back hair showed he'd almost hit the two year mark of the walking dead. Throwing my pack into the back seat, I grabbed my art book from the pouch behind the driver's seat. Popping open the dashboard compartment my small pencil case fell out. As my brother slammed the door behind him, he waited little time setting us off down the street. Flipping through to the last page, I began to sketch the dead child in the tiny piece of blank paper left in my book. My entire book was filled with the pictures of the dead, my drawing them I feel as if we can mourn them as the living. Not as the dead, when this is over. I want to be able to remember those who will never be able to think again.
"I don't know why you insist of drawing them, they're the dead we are the living. Draw some happy stuff, the worlds already sad enough" my brother says casually, he as usual will question my method of dealing.
"Its better then crying and losing it, attracting the dead from everywhere" I state, he scoffs and mutters under his breath.
"When you end up snagging a living male, can you stop with the creepy drawings?" He asks, I scoff and shake my head.
"I'm sure we'll see our parents before that happens" I reply, adding the finer details to the child's black hair.
Several hours had passed and night was beginning to fall, I looked to my brother as he monitored the declining fuel gage.
"We have to stop, no point driving in the dark and plus. I'd rather go dry in the day, we're can we pull up and camp?" I ask, scanning the long and dead road.
"There looks to be a prison up ahead, want to base camp there?" He asks, I scrunch my mouth up.
"Dead prisoner, dead everyone" I mutter, he sighs.
"Yeah, we'll sleeping on a road means a dead everyone too. We'll scout it out, who knows we may get lucky. A block that's got little dead, lock ourselves in, hell we could even set up camp there... Permanently" he says, I watch as his blue eyes light up in excitement.
"Maybe, come on, we'll base camp there for the night... I guess" I mutter.
Dark has finally fallen on us, the prison is getting closer but too far for us to reach without turning the lights on. Pulling the car up to the side of the road, my heart instantly begins to flutter. I watch as the dead, slowly emerge from the darkness, there eyes trained on Velma. My brother looks to me and whispers our plan of attack.
"We run, the prison looks to be a mere two k run. We can do it, you came first in your cross country race in senior year and we've been on the run since. I'm sure we'll make it" he says, I look to him and shake my head.
"There is easily two dozen dead out there, we'd do better driving with MC Hammer blaring then running straight passed them" I snap, he glares at me.
"Well then what do we do!" He demands, the first dead to reach our car begins to groan and smack against the hood of Velma.
"Darren, they're going to break through the glass" I say, watching as a elderly man joins the first. His watch battering the glass hard, he's sure to crack the shield with it. The sound of a saviour rings through our ears; the sounds of barking broke through the groans of the dead. Looking to the noise, a wolf stood on the side of the road. His teeth bare, snarling at the dead. A territorial wolf, oh thank God! The dead began to slip away from heading towards Velma. The wolf lunged towards one of the dead, a teenage girl once upon a time. A cheerleader, what was left of her uniform was being torn to pieces from the wolf. The girl latched down on the wolf's shoulder, a yelp escaping him as she ripped his shoulder out.
"Get out from my door, the wolf will distract three quarters of the dead, we can take the rest. Okay" Darren says, I nod and pry my eyes away from the dead feasting of the wolf.
Darren opens Velma's door, stepping out he watches out for any of the dead lurking in the depths of the darkness. Slipping across, I grab my bag and step from the car, making the deadly and rookie mistake I kick the door shut behind me. The bang from the car door alerting the dead to our presence sends rolls of shivers down my back. I watch as Darren's face falls.
"Shit" I mutter, turning to the dead who all know are aware of our presence.
"Run" Darren says, grabbing my arm and pushing off into a sprinting run.
The cold air was whipping against my face; I could hear the dead getting riled up behind us. Darren was a little bit ahead of me, pressing on harder I looked to my target, the small bridge that would allow us to fling up on the fence and climb to what we're hoping is safety.
"Come on!" I say as I pass Darren who is beginning to look out of breath.
"We're almost there" I encourage him, glancing back for a second.
In that second I watch my entire world that my life has been built upon changes. My brother, once a tall and strong man now was a screaming mess. Falling to the ground, I take a second to register why he has fallen. A man, much the same as my brother had latched into my brothers' shoulder. His decaying body ripping the muscle and life from the barely grown man, my body slows as I turn to save him. He looks to me, his face scared and hardened as he pushes back the pain to yell to me.
"Carter, go!" He screams, looking to me as he attempts to push the dead from him.
"No" I say, slowing down to save him
"Go you idiot, run!" He screams, slamming himself onto his back.
A decaying woman jumps onto him and ripping into his rib cage. I look up, there are four more dead getting closer, their eyes trained on me. Fear taking control of my body, I do the final thing my brother will ask of me. I turn and I run his screams begin to echo through the night air. He yells out his final words to me as I reach the edge of the road to begin my journey across the bridge.
"Stay safe, I love you!" He screams before his words turns into agonising yelps.
Feeling the burning heartbreak rip through my body, I slam into the fence begin to scurry over. Slipping under the barbed wire; I ignore the ripping of my body as the wire rips my back into shreds. Slamming down onto the path, I hear the groans as the first dead slam into the fence after me. Its moans and snapping teeth sending me into a panic, scurrying over the second fence, I again fall into the ground. This time my fall is cushioned by tall grass, pulling myself to my feet.
I let the first sob for my lost brother rip through my chest, I rattle as I loudly sob. I didn't care if the dead could hear me, nor did I care when I felt two dead arms wrap around my torso and rip me back down to the tall grass.
Authors note – Well hi there! Thank-you for reading my first chapter, not sure how this story is going to go I am working off a dream my friend told me she had mixed in with my own dreams, off I know. But stay with me, hopefully you'll learn to enjoy my character and I can nail the character's personalities so you can be pulled into the world as much as we all are watching the delicious show. Feel free to leave any reviews, I don't mind. If you feel I'm straying from the characters personality, set me straight! Ha ha, also I know very little about America so my ignorance hopefully won't annoy you all. Though, I don't think wolves are that far east, I don't know any who, I am rambling so see you next time!