I'm sure you all have heard countless excuses from countless authors including myself, so we're going to ignore the fact that it may have been longer than my regular interval since I've last updated. All I can say is simply to deal with it.

I have to apologize now for any mistakes, especially if it says "you" instead of "I", been reading lots lately and it's just molded into my brain for a bit. Really sorry.

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The car was, regrettably out of gas. Wow, so much for a fucking story. I had never used a car, nor was it usual for me to see one. I was not aware that cars needed any sort of fuel, so we were left stranded and confused as the car slowed to a stop. We exited and walked down the gravel road until reaching a small building with vertical tanks on the outside. The sign above it read SuperAmerica, I didn't understand seeing as the building was in no way super, or built in America.

We "enter" the building through it's window, Darla making a comment about it being some sort of fueling station. I felt stupid for never knowing these things. I felt stupid for even getting us into this mess in the first place.

It was a little too quiet inside. As if not only the people inside had disappeared long ago, but the station's atmosphere as well. It didn't reek of blood like everywhere else, so I didn't expect any zombies to appear. I felt a hand on my leg, and I gasp, looking down I see only Italy asking to be picked up. It was a reasonable request seeing as anything could happen at any time. Darla on the other hand had no fear exploring the small space. There was nothing here but disappointment. We decide it's best to move on by foot.

Days later, we had found a small city with cute little neighborhoods that probably housed cute little families, with cute little kids and cute little dogs. What a boring life it must have been for them. How they could live that way was beyond me. As much as I enjoyed the normal moments in life, the peace and tranquility of being near your loved ones and knowing they are safe, it would drive me insane. The same thing every day, wake up, make breakfast, take your kids to school and go to work, come home, eat again and go to bed. Only relying on the little moments that you planned and waited for, and once they were over it was back to the same routine over, and over again.

But in this new world, every day there was something different. Something new. There was a sort of adrenaline to wake up each morning and inhale the crisp new air, knowing that you had survived another night. To run, and hide, jump, and be victorious against an unknown enemy. It was absolutely exhilarating. And even though I had that in my mind set, I couldn't help but mourn, and remember. Every second of a different life that seemed really far away by now.

The kids were inside playing. I sat in the backyard, inside the gazebo. The family must have been rich, they had a pool as well and a beautiful garden. I heard the sound of a gunshot, and stood up. It hadn't come from the house or anywhere near it, just off in the distance somewhere. This wasn't unusual, it was actually very common. People were everywhere now, looking for somewhere to hide. Especially in small towns like these it was normal to find traces of other survivors.

I turned my attention back to my thoughts, although they were already long gone. My mind is a jumbled mess, can't think clearly. Today in particular, the memories have been getting worse by the minute.

When I was fifteen, a little over a year ago, I met a boy named Allister. He was ultimately my best friend. We spent all day together, always talking about things that never mattered. Things like living outside the wall, living without war and only peace, without boundaries or governments. We talked about traveling through space and time. We were going to travel the world together someday, finally leave zone 7. I can't honestly say what I felt for him was love. Or that it was anything at all, it was just… comfort maybe? I felt like I was listening to my own thoughts when I was having conversations with him, and I had this false sense of hope that things would always be that way. Just us, being us. I remember he met a girl, one I had despised for many years. She had tortured me throughout school, making me feel like the bottom of the food chain, blah, blah, blah school drama. But I felt so betrayed by him. And I made the decision to cut him off from my life completely. He died of radiation poisoning later that year. I was so upset, not only with myself but with him. I regret it still. And regrets are never an option. But it is the one I allow myself.

I'm angry with myself right now. I had broken had broken one of my two rules. I wasn't happy. And I have to always be happy, no matter what. For Italy, for Kleff, for mom and dad and everyone. The whole world is coming to a god damn end and I'm sitting here sobbing like a moron because I can't pull it together and smile.

That's it.

I just have to smile. Then everything will be okay. I force it. Tasting my salty tears drip down my face as I stare at the white boards of the gazebo's floor.

"That looks really creepy."

I turn my head slowly towards the source of the voice. I'm surprised to see Doc, leaning against one of the posts that held the gazebo up.

Oh god, how long has he been there. This is bad, I can't be seen unhappy. I have to…

I smile even bigger at him. He takes a step back looking a little disturbed, then smirks.

"You're definitely different than anyone I know." I stop smiling and look back to the floor boards. He sits next to me and looks at the same spot as I. "You want to tell me what's got you all worked up?"

"Memories." I say looking up to the ceiling, letting the last tears fall. I suck in a deep breath and close my eyes, letting my thoughts go with it.

"Y'know that's an ancient technique of the Mayans." He mentions.

"Oh is it?" I ask.

He shrugs, "Hell if I know."

"You seem different than when we last met." I say noticing that he wasn't acting all… confusing.

"Could say the same for yourself, cupcake." He raises and eyebrow.

"Okay, first of all, don't ever call me that, ever. And second, what do you mean?"

He smiles slightly, "You're not the jolly green giant's cousin and all proper and shit."

"And you aren't talking in circles like some confused circus clown." I retort.

"That's just a one time deal." He sighs.

"How so?" I ask, glancing at him.

"I like to make false first impressions." He explains. He stands up and offers a hand to be helped up. I take it and brush myself off. The kids were still inside. Or at least I hoped.

"Hey, I got to go check on Darla and Italy." I say looking over at the house. He nods seeming a bit unsatisfied. "But you're welcome to come in, I don't know if you drink tea or coffee but I could make you some if you'd like."

"Coffee sounds good." We begin to trek towards the house. "Hey, I've got a question."

"And that is…"

"What happened to that hostile girl I met? That was you, wasn't it Germany?" He smirks again and I smile to myself.

"Well, it seems you're not the only one who likes to make false impressions." I say shutting the sliding glass door before he could walk in and flick the lock.

"Hey!" He calls from outside. "Hey!" He yells again with his hands on the glass. "You're coming back, right?"

I sat across the table from Doc drinking a cup of tea as he drank his coffee. Italy and Darla were playing a board game in the living room, and Doc and I were having this sort of unspoken staring contest, as neither of us had said anything since I let him in. But there was one question I was dying to know.

"So…" He says slowly.

"What's your real name?" I ask, cutting him off.

"Al." He says smoothly.

"Really?" I ask, feeling victorious as I had finally found out.

"No." He says swishing the coffee in it's mug. He gives me an uninterested look as he sets the mug down, "I told you Doc is my real name."

"That's not true." I say looking into his eyes. I may lack common sense sometimes, but I know the human mind pretty well. I can sense it's actions, and I can tell when someone's lying. "I can see it in your eyes, when you say it, your pupils grow wider as if the idea of the name excites you. In other words, you chose it for yourself because you like it. You like the mystery." I say very matter-of-factly.

He raises an eyebrow but says nothing.

"I bet you lived a really boring life before all of this," I continue. "Maybe you still do. I'm just a highlight."

"Well, I wouldn't say being around you is boring. But…"

"I know I'm right." I smile to myself, leaning back in my chair. "Always am."

He laughs at some untold joke and takes another sip of his coffee. "Mind if I crash here tonight? Promise I'll be out by morning."

"I suppose it is already dark out. Fine, just don't do anything stupid." I say decisively.

"Define stupid…"

The next morning, I walk downstairs to make breakfast. We would leave today, most likely never to return. I didn't know where we'd go next, maybe it was time to find Kleff. Or maybe we should just go back home.

I cut a few slices of bread and stuff them in the toaster. I took a knife from one of the drawers to spread peanut butter on one of the slices, when I heard something from upstairs. Footsteps, coming from the opposite side of the house from my room, where Darla and Italy were still asleep. The footsteps are also much too loud to be made by either of them. I wait behind the counter until I see a shadow. I time it perfectly and fling the knife towards the poor sucker.

I look up to see messy blond hair and a confused expression upon Doc's face.

"...It's still morning… I have time to get out… You don't have to be so upset about it."

"Oh my god, you scared me." I say, my heart pounding in my head.

"Yeah, I'd be too, but it looks like you've got bigger problems, cupcake." I'm about to scold him for using that terrible nickname again when he directs my attention to the kitchen window. A group of about six zombies look inside hungrily, their blood smearing on the window, still fresh.

"Damn." I say, standing up. The toast pops out of the toaster and I jump out of my own skin. Doc chuckles as he grabs a sword from the inside of his coat that hung on the coat rack. I recognized it from somewhere, like I had seen it before. And recently.

I grab my hathe off the kitchen table and we walk outside. The morning a bit too brisk for my taste.

The first zombie, a young girl, approaches me with a loose jaw and limp in her stride. I chop at her head until it falls to the ground, killing the zombie once and for all.

The second is a boy who would have been my age. Not bad looking for the shape he's in, despite his tongue which hung wildly out of the side of his mouth. "Y'know," I say before slicing at his neck. "We might've been good friends if you hadn't gone and died on me." I wiggle my eyebrows and then use the hammer end to knock his head off, sending it flying into the neighbors yard.

"Never liked them anyways." I joke as Doc just raises an eyebrow. We finish off the last of them and head back inside.

"I guess I'll see you around, Germany." Doc says as he puts on his sweatshirt and grabs his backpack.

"Hope so." I smile a little sadly knowing I'd miss the company. Sure I had the kids but they're… kids. "Here take some toast." I add hearing rustling upstairs, meaning Darla or Italy had woken up.

"Thanks." He smiles as I hand it to him. He leaves, and both kids suddenly appear downstairs. I feed them breakfast, thinking to myself as the day continued on as usual… the same as every other day…

I'm sorry if this chapter was a little… boring. It's really hard to write a good zombie story, because zombie killing is mostly action and not really thoughts. Anyways, I hope you're liking this despite all its flaws. And if you have any opinions leave a review or PM if you're shy.

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