With a soft groan, a man stood up from his hastily made bed. Moving around his sleeping companions, gently snoring into their pillows, he opened the door of the building and stepped out onto the front porch. The chilly night air made him shiver at first but he then sat down against the building's wall and calmly took out a cigarette. Lighting it and taking a deep draught, he looked around himself.

The view could have been called almost pleasant. Ancient trees divided the sky from the land, barely letting any moonlight seep through the branches. Ferns and flowering bushes grew plentifully around the trunks. A couple of birds cried in the night. It was only the substantial amount of dead bodies littering the soil that ruined the forest.

With a sigh Nick looked away from the bloodied and twisted broken bodies of the zombies. They were humans just days before yet after a virus spread like wildfire around America, barely anyone was left as they were. The rare few not infected, the survivors, were now all on the run, praying that they have enough bullets to protect themselves. Just like he was doing.

'Nick?'

Letting the cigarette rest lightly between his fingers, Nick turned his head to see a silhouette exit the small building. Shutting the door as quietly as he could, the youngest survivor sat down next to the conman who noticed the mechanic's eyes were bloodshot and tired.

Nick took another draught of the cigarette. 'Go to sleep, overalls. There is no point if tomorrow you will start falling asleep on your feet while running away from a horde.'

Ellis shook his head, wiping his nose with the back of his palm and averting the green eyes. 'Can't,' he said thickly. 'Ah get all sorta bad dreams. Every time ah close mah eyes...ah just see it all, Nick. Ah see all tuh dead bodies.'

Not meeting the kid's eyes, Nick kept on smoking. He could guess how it felt for the young Georgian. It seemed like a joke when they were counting how many zombies they shoot or trying to beat each other's headshot count. But then there were moments when they realise they were killing people and laughing about it.

'Hick,' the conman began, 'those are dead people. Either you kill them or you die. You can't blame yourself for trying to stay alive, now can you?'

'Ah dunno anymore, Nick.' With a sniff Ellis pulled his knees up to his chest and tightly encircled his arms around them. Pushing his face between his arms as far as he could without upending his signature cap, he took a deep shuddering breath. 'Mah mama always said killin' another is a sin. She said tuh Creator will be mad.'

Narrowing his eyes, Nick glared at the kid. 'So you would rather not be a sinner yet die under the hands of mindless corpses? Jesus Christ, Ellis. Think about it to yourself. Would you even be alive now if you didn't pull the trigger all those times?'

The Georgian stayed quiet.

Scoffing, Nick crushed the end of the cigarette and threw it blindly to his side. Feeling his desert eagle under his filthy suit, he turned his face up to the moonlight and closed his eyes.

'Go to bed, Ellis,' he said, more gently this time.

'Ah can't,' the hick whispered. 'Not anymore. Not ever at this rate.'

Not responding, Nick felt the young mechanic shuffle closer to him. At first neither of the men did anything but then Ellis sidled up shoulder to shoulder with the conman and lay his head on the latter's arm. For a long time Nick said and did nothing and just kept looking up at the star filled sky. Only when he heard the Georgian give a soft snore did he allow a smile to tug at his lips.