I knew I had to keep moving. I could hear hoards of them coming from a distance, their incoherant groaning and teeth gnashing sending chills up my spine. They smelled the fresh blood. I looked down at him, blood blossoming from the bullet wound in his head like large red peonies; the deep bite-mark on his arm in sharp contrast with his otherwise perfect skin. He was bitten, I had no choice! But the look in his eyes when I pulled my gun on him...his eyes were accepting. He knew what had to be done. I guess that just made it harder to pull the trigger. I stared down at his body, broken, laying in the grass. I felt a cool breeze blow past us; it ruffled my hair and it ruffled his hair too. The sun was glaring off his porcelin skin, his glassy hazel eyes staring right back at me. I couldn't bring myself to look away from him as the first few stumbled their way out of the trees, immediately heading for us. What was the world anymore? How did any of this even happen? It all went to total chaos so fast. I can't even remember. The things were even closer. I looked at him again, and he reminded me I had to keep moving. I knew I had to keep moving. So I did. I did what he told me to do. With a final side-long glance at him, I took his gun and his knife and ran. I ran and I didn't dare look back at my brother with those bright red flowers soiling his body.