Hiiiiii! New story! I wrote this, because my sister and I are writing a zombie survival guide and I was thinking what I'd be like in the zombie apocalypse.

I'm really mad at myself because I'm already writing one story, and I've gotten hardly any progress on that. If you wanna read it, it's called Love and Missing Limbs.

Review please

Life most definitely hasn't been easy. It's been four months since the initial bloodbath. Zombies have terrorized all of America, and the state of other countries is unknown. It's impossible to know how many people are still... people. More than anything I wish I could be home in my own bed. But that's not possible anymore. I have long toe head blonde hair and dull green eyes. I'm kinda small for my age, but quick on my feet.

My name is no long evident and I survived the zombie apocalypse. Well…. currently surviving the zombie apocalypse. I am 14 years old and I'm from Estes, Colorado. Four months ago, I decided I wanted to survive. My parents thought we should wait and help would come. Three hours later, I watched them be devoured by the elderly couple down the street. I found myself a weapon and a car (Dad taught me driving basics and traffic laws don't really matter).

I learned to avoid people at all costs, not wanting to get attached or get eaten. A little less than a month after I left Estes, I came across my new family.

I was tired. I was hungry. I was sad. And I was plainly pissed off. I had crashed my last truck, the cat I had taken a liking to was eaten, and I lost the match to my new pair Converse.

A sheath of blood-crusted arrows hung across my back. My dagger was hidden away in my boot, my pistol was stashed away in my backpack of random stuff, and my compact bow was held with an iron grip in my right hand.

I had heard rumors of rescue ships sailing up and down the east coast, so that's where I was headed. The Kansas border was approaching, and I'd soon rid myself of the damn mountains that had been torturing my feet the past few weeks.

The sound of pounding feet came from around the bend I had been approaching (I was currently in a small canyon). I groaned and pulled my knife out of my boots. I was not the mood for this.

Instead of seeing something that belonged in a horror movie, a teenage boy with tanned skin and light brown hair came running around the bend with the kind of grin you wouldn't normally see in the midst of a worldly disaster. He was followed by three zombies bounding after him.

My eyes widened. I put my dagger between my teeth and readied an arrow. But to my surprise the brunette pulled two grenades out of his pockets out of his pockets and threw them behind him. The bloodied flesh bags were blown to pieces before you could say "oh shit".

The boy slowed to a trot as he came towards me, laughing wildly. I hadn't moved an inch. The string of my bow was pulled back, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and my mouth opened slightly, my knife had fallen out not long before.

I eased back the string, picked up my knife and put it back in its hiding place. Turing towards Crazy Monkey Boy, I lowered my bow and my mouth ready to pour questions.

He beat me to my first word. He stuck out his hand and said, "I'm from Dothan, Alabama. You can call me Dothan."

I shook his hand slowly, still confused at what had just happened. "I'm Estes, I guess."

"Estes? Colorado? I went there when I was a little thing, but I hardly remember it. How old are you? I'm 19."

I looked at him with arched eyebrows and pursed lips.

He laughed again and shook his head as if I was the funniest person he'd ever spoken to. "Don't worry; I'm not some crazy pedobear or anything. It's just I haven't talked to anyone for a long while."

His southern accent was very…. southern. He had broad shoulders, and big muscles. His eyes were vey blue.

I must have been looking at him for awhile because he laughed again put his arm around my shoulder (though I was quick to push it away). He looked somewhat hurt and took on a more sober tone. "Hey, it's okay. I'm not gonna hurt ya. Maybe we can talk over food. He pulled off the backpack I had not yet noticed and made a blue tarp appear.

He had a shelter set up in little or no time, a fire built, and food set out. We ate in silence and afterword, he showed me his collection of knives, grenades, and Spiderman comic books. After that, he was able to get a few words out of me.

"So you're from Estes? We're pretty far from there. Ya must've come a pretty long way with those short legs of yours." That earned a first class glare from me. He took a over dramatic gulp and continued. "I went to a community college in Dothan. Fresh outta high school. My family lived in Texas. Not to my surprise they were nowhere to be found. I came up north, for a change in scenery."

My silence was broken. "I lost my parents right before I left. I heard rumors of rescue ships on the East coast, so that's where I'm headed. I'm fourteen by the way."

"Rescue ships? If you heard that from people in Colorado, it's nothin but a false hope. There was no communication goin on in the bloodbath so there was no way of knowing what was goin on in the side of the country."

The truth in his words hit me hard. I knew he was right, but it was all I had going for me.

He noticed my disappointment. "I sure am sorry. But hey! We could be partners if you like? We could be saving each others' asses all the time."

I shrug. " I don't know… Another attachment…"

Dothan looks at me with the worst puppy eyes I'd ever seen.

I laugh. "You have the worst puppy dog eyes I've ever seen."

He gives me a prize winning grin. "So is that a yes?"

And thus a partnership was born.