As an apology to hopefully try and make up for my horrible lapse in post times between 7 and 8, I wanted to post this next one! Thanks for all your guys's support along the road, and never feel afraid to tell me what needs to be worked on or if I should just stop! ^^ Again, thank you all so much and I hope I hear from you in your reviews!

P.S.: A little disclaimer about this chapter, it's an emotional rollercoaster and it's pretty long! But now that the end is near, tension is high in the group... hopefully I didn't give off the feel that this was all written without purpose! ^^ Enjoy!


Zoey remained standing on her side of the room, waiting patiently for the others to ready up themselves. Guns were slung, magazines were accounted for and inspected, and the oh-too-familiar sound of a readying pistol echoed endlessly through the small cube of an office storage space.

The plan was simple enough—take the now strengthened 9-man team to the top of the building where a helipad, and hopefully a radio, was. From there they'd fly out of the infected hellhole that they had become too accustomed to. And from there

Zoey grimaced as she realized that she wasn't sure what she would do after that. There were too many unknown variables… how far had the infection spread? Did she still have a home waiting for her or had the zombies already taken that too? And even if she did have a home and parents to go back to, what would the rest of the world think of Hope?

Hope…

The human girl's deep eyes focused their attention beside her, where the witch that she had deemed as her best friend stood quietly, observing as everyone else finished up their readying process. Though her body was casted up again from the bullet wounds she had suffered earlier, she was standing at her full height, only slightly leaning against the wall behind her in a parroted fashion as Zoey.

She really was a soldier.

Zoey couldn't help but allow a smile to tug at her lips as she observed the witch's curious expression. There was never a doubt that Hope was a soldier—it wasn't the first time she'd heard it. However, seeing the girl at practically a full recovery after taking such a blow was just a way of reaffirming it one hundred and ten percent.

"Alright," Bill's gruff voice finally came as the last pistol was buckled into its holster. Even after the merging of the two teams, he had still somehow managed to keep his unofficial leadership position. "All you kids ready to go?"

Nods were mutually exchanged throughout the room, though they were tense and nervous. Though their mission only entitled them to be walking up few flights of stairs, it was the feeling of uncertainty of what waited for them at the top that brought about the butterflies.

"Since the stairwell is narrow and it'll be impossible to move in a fully covered formation," the vet continued, his army training taking effect, "We'll put the two heaviest weapons in the front. Francis, that's you and Coach."

Francis let out a prideful "humph" as he carelessly slung his automatic shotgun over his shoulder, holding it in one hand as he turned to Coach with a look of pride. He then eyed the man's smaller chrome shotgun, let out an obvious breath of laughter in ridicule, and then tossed his head away as if the bigger gun meant a bigger-

"From there the two support snipers will keep in the middle of the formation, in case we get horded from behind. Zoey and…" Bill left his mouth open as he stared at the new girl almost apologetically, waiting for her to fill in her own name to the blank spot like a quiz.

"You can call me Ro," she replied harmlessly.

"Ro," the man quickly recovered, "that will be you two. The rest of us will take the rear and cover our ascent. Any questions?"

"What about Hope?" Zoey couldn't help but ask once she noticed the witch's slightly distressed expression at the exclusion from the team.

Bill turned to face the witch before saying, "I assumed it would only be natural that she followed you, Zoey. After all—you two are inseparable as it is." He winked at the red faced witch, who had to hide an embarrassed smile from being revealed by digging her face into Zoey's shoulder. The human girl giggled as she ran her hand through Hope's coarse hair.

"Well? What are ya'll waiting for?" Ellis's heavy, distinguished southern drawl kicked in, a toothy grin plastered onto his face as he looked around the group of survivors. "Let's get this show on the road!"


The convoy moved quite rapidly up the stairs, despite their careful steps and eyes-open approach. However, the initial pace that the group had started at seemed to quicken as both Coach and Francis tried to out-do the other, proving that by their pace they were afraid of nothing.

"Just between you and me," Zoey heard Ellis's voice from the back of the formation as she kept her own sniper rifle trained upwards at the empty staircase before them, "this is the fastest I ever seen Coach move before."

"I heard that, Ellis," Coach's offended scowl came from the front, though the pace only quickened.

Louis's trademark chuckle offended the silence, and was joined by Rochelle's giggle at the bigger man's defensiveness.

"Looks like the old man's got it cut out for him," Francis scoffed pig-headedly. "Why don't you move to the middle of the formation and I'll slow it down for you?"

"Don't you be saying that just yet," Coach's prideful return came. "I'll show you young'uns how it's done."

"Alright you two," Bill finally remarked. "You can pillow fight later, but focus on the task ahead now."

Silence rigged the staircase after a loud "humph" from both men as they once again quickened the pace. Zoey looked down to Hope to see that the girl was smiling slightly from the comical competition.

After what felt like only a few minutes, the ceiling of the staircase became broadly visible. It seemed as though the constant push of motion from the convoy combined with the slowly creeping doubt that a radio wasn't on the top made time go by faster.

"Almost there," Francis groaned as the sight of the end reminded him of how long and high they had been trudging up the steps. A similar effect seemed to take its toll on everyone, quickly followed by a slower pace and breathless panting.

Only two more minutes put them at the top platform of the steps where an ear-ringing silence took effect. The survivors exchanged nervous glances at each other as for once Francis and Coach had a wordless mutual agreement. The two tanks of the group looked at the door that would lead them to a stunning victory or a crushing defeat.

Zoey felt her stomach rising to her throat before she swallowed hard, putting it back down where it belonged. Breathing became a task as she tried to keep it under a slow, steady pace, but instead found herself at the beginning of a hyperventilation. She looked down to see that Hope was staring up at her with the same desperate eyes that earned her name. Zoey patted the girl on the white tangled mess that sat on her head, trying to calm not only the witch, but herself.

"You all ready?" Coach's heavy, deep voice came in a cautious whisper.

No one answered, nor did anyone move. Instead, the only reaction that came was the glances that were exchanged throughout the survivors, waiting for one of them among their ranks to speak up for all of them. When none came, it was no surprise when Bill was the one to lead the morale charge. "I've been ready to get out of his hellhole since I got here."

Warm smiles spread through the group as the tension lowered from their boost in spirit. Before anyone had enough time to let the awkward aura return, Francis planted a firm foot on the door and pushed it open as hard as he could.

The creaky metal door swung open at a blinding speed before crashing noisily into the wall it was hinged to. The explosion caused everyone to glare at Francis, who smiled apologetically and shrugged, regretting his gung-ho approach for just a moment before returning his attention to the outside.

The light of the morning filtered through the doorway and spilled like a watery canvas at Zoey's feet. She, along with the others, had to use one hand to shade their eyes as they stepped outside, allowing the almost unfamiliar sunlight to pierce through their retinas at a controlled pace. The morning was cool, giving mercy to the survivors before the harsh, extreme heat would predictably take place. The chilly, damp air greeted Zoey's skin, which returned the "hello" with goose bumps and raised hairs. However, her body was numb with nerves as the two teams grouped up in their surprisingly similar formations. It was only after emerging completely from the staircase that Zoey could see just what they were up against.

Nothing.

It was a massive platform with the predicted helipad, but nothing else plagued the smooth skin of the roof except for the single control room on the opposite side edge from where the survivors had emerged. A large, motionless satellite dish sat proudly above the peak, shining in the bright light and waiting to be put to use after so long.

And the best part was-

-"Well this place is as bare as Louis's head," Francis poked fun while relaying the obvious. However, no one complained—hearing the statement being reinforced only allowed them to relax more.

"C'mon, we don't have time to waste," Bill instructed, reminding everyone of their initial purpose as he began to move. The entirety of both groups followed him as they broke their cautious formation, moving at a brisk pace towards what could've been the end to all their misery. Even Zoey had to admit that she was forcing back a laugh of joy.

Once they reached the door of the room, Francis took a more cautious lead this time and slowly pushed the door open. Both he and Coach immediately snapped their guns down to target whatever infected creature might've been waiting for a fresh meal on the other side. However, once the room was deemed cleared, the two lowered their weapons and walked inside, followed by the rest of the relieved survivors.

The radio room was nothing short of a miracle to Zoey's eyes. Control equipment laced with colorful buttons lined walls on every side. Unlike all the other rooms they had breached in the past since they got to the horrid city, this one was kept tidy. Not a piece of paper littered the floor and the chairs were still intact, sitting up in their proper places and waiting for a worker to rest his legs. However, it was the single radio box and microphone that sat on a table next to a bathroom door that really finished the perfect scenery. And from Rochelle's reaction, she guessed they felt the same way.

"Does it still work?" she asked as she darted forward into the room and stopped only after leaning against the table, hovering over the radio. Zoey caught herself waiting to see if Rochelle would drool from how appetizingly she was staring at it.

"Let's find out," Nick's calm, blank voice was next to come as the rest of the group moved inside the radio room. Everyone waited in silent, breathless anticipation as Nick took a seat that was in front of one of the control boards and slid it to the radio. He sat down and began to tamper at the radio while the rest of the group either began to pace around or watch his delicate work. But once he announced, "Alright, it's still functioning," all motion in the room came to a dead halt. Every pair of eyes locked onto Nick as he turned the dial, trying to home in on a signal as he held the microphone to his lips and began to repeat, "Hello? Is anyone there?"

Zoey felt her body to numb as channel after channel returned only static and silence to the distress call. She clenched her fists tightly as time passed tediously slowly—a few times she even seemed to forget to breathe.

A soft, cold hand jarred her out of her frozen state. Zoey snapped her eyes down to her side to find that Hope was smiling comfortingly up at her, her own claws rubbing as softly as they could up and down the human girl's arm in an attempt to ease her nerves… it was like they were switching roles.

Zoey sighed as she let out a breath of laughter, forcing her body to relax. She reached a hand and ran an affectionate finger down Hope's cheek, who reached up with a claw and held the human girl's hand for a moment before allowing the demonstration of affection to end.

"Hello?"

The voice… it was far too distorted by radio static to be Nick. It had to be-

-"Hello!" Nick's voice raised out of a subtle excitement.

Laughs were exchanged throughout the room as everyone began to celebrate already. Coach reached over and gave Rochelle a strong embrace as Francis and Louis gave a hearty, loud Hi-five. Even Zoey couldn't help but give a small hop from euphoria as she wrapped her arms around Hope tightly. The witch sighed in joy as a hand patted the top of Zoey's head. Upon further investigation she saw none other than the Vietnam vet, a broad smile accenting the wrinkles of a thousand stories around his face.

"Hello?" the distorted voice came yet again, this time full of excitement. "Hello! This is EZ LZ of Camp 17, who is this?"

"Uh… Nick," the suit answered in a confused tone. "Of uh… wherever the hell we are."

"It's great to hear from you Nick," the radio operator laughed with relief. "We didn't think there were any more survivors where you're transmitting from. Are you the only one there?"

"No, I have people with me—eight others. We need evacuation ASAP, how fast can you be here?"

"The flight schedule is tied up for the rest of today Eager Beaver," the voice dubbed the new nickname, "but tomorrow second flight gets out of here at ten in the morning with your name on it. Can you hold out until then?"

Nick turned around to check with the others. However, the delay didn't seem to bother anyone—just the idea of getting out of the city so soon still remained fresh in their heads. Vigorous nods came as his response before he turned back to the radio and answered, "Yeah, we can hold. We'll be waiting for you tomorrow. Out."

"Hang tight, Beaver," the operator said heartily. "You'll be out sooner than you know."


The cool afternoon breeze sifted through Zoey's strands of deep brown, taking the sweat-soaked, dirt-ridden locks in unstable intervals before allowing them to fall back upon her face. With a single motion she used her fingers to remove the intruders back to the side, allowing her to have full sight of the sunset. Though the city was a dump and the zombies below the towering structure still mindlessly lumbered, plaguing the scenery, a sunset was a sunset… and she was lucky to see another one. Especially with her friends… especially with her friends.

Though the day went by slowly, not a moment was spared to meaninglessness. The men bonded, telling stories of the proudest moment in their lives as if trying to outdo one another. What once started out as a competition turned into an experience together.

The only exclusion was Nick, who remained inside the radio room, uninterested in joining. He would only exit for a moment to stand in the doorframe, survey his surroundings and his teammates, then go back in as if nothing had happened. Though he was always alone and scowling at the others whenever they laughed, Zoey couldn't help but feel that there was more to him, no matter what kind of heartless mask he displayed upon his face.

Rochelle had attempted to sleep through the day, convinced that the more she slept the sooner the chopper would arrive, and therefore the sooner she would be carried away in the arms of a leather seat away from here… far away. She remained in place throughout the day with her head on Coach's lap, only awakened by his occasional stirs to get into a more comfortable position or reach to grab one of the edible provisions that the team had found while rummaging through the structure's upper floors for supplies. There wasn't much—only a few bottles of water that they had filled up using a stereotypical office dispenser, a couple of power bars that had been stored away in hopes of later use, and a few towels that Louis had so femininely stitched together into thick blankets. It may not have been a meal or a five star hotel… but it was more than enough to keep the survivors alive and happy until their ride arrived.

Zoey, however, found herself sitting on her ankles through the day, propping her elbows on the knee-high concrete railings on the edge of the platform as she rested her head on her hands, staring out at what looked like a city of ants. Because she had remained there for so long it wasn't uncommon for one of the men, usually Ellis, to stand beside her for a moment and make sure everything was alright.

Why wouldn't everything be alright? Not only were they being rescued tomorrow, which meant a comfortable bed and a full meal, but there wasn't a moment when her best friend left her side… and after the events that had happened since they met each other, that was more than Zoey could ask for.

Hope sat quietly only an inch away from the human girl, her own eyes searching around the city as if trying to find, during the entire day, what was causing Zoey to stare out for so long. However, the witch's light-hearted, curious expression stood the test of time. It wasn't until the two girls exchanged mutual smiles a few hours back did Zoey realize that she, too, was just enjoying the company.

Zoey glanced to see that the young witch's crimson eyes were staring directly into the sunset, the bright light having no apparent effect on her retinas. Her pale skin accented as the yellow and orange flood caressed her body, deeply shading her protruding ribs and concave stomach. However, despite the odds… despite the infection and the pain… the girl's eyes still held the same childish innocence that they must've had even before the day she changed.

"Soup's on!" Francis's aggressive voice caused both of the girls to snap their attention back to where he was standing behind them, a large grin reaching from ear to ear. In both of his hands was a paper plate; from the angle Zoey was sitting in, she couldn't see what they hid. "For you," Francis addressed the human first, "a plate of non-perishable refried beans and some rice." He placed the plate down in front of Zoey before adding humorously, "Or at least what I think is rice…" The built biker then turned his attention to Hope, who tilted her head to one side in curiosity of what the man had gifted her with. "And we made sure to make a special trip for you, little lady." Zoey giggled as Hope's face turned a deep red. The witch dropped her gaze to the ground in a futile attempt to hide her shy smile. "A plate of raw ground beef."

Hope's eyes lit up as she snapped her head back up, watching intensely as Francis placed the paper plate full of what was unmistakably raw meat in front of her excitedly shaking hands. However, upon further inspection, Zoey noticed that the heap was not the same square pile that it came packaged in. Instead, it was obvious that someone had tampered with the food and given it shape… or at least attempted to.

"I uh…" Francis muttered as he scratched the back of his head nervously. "Tried to make it look like a bird… or something." He then quickly threw out, "Not like I care or anything if you can see it… I was just… bored is all." Francis forced out a laugh that Zoey immediately deemed as feigned, but she smiled nonetheless. "Yep, just bored!" He reinforced loudly as he divertingly cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders. "Well you two have fun."

"Thank you, Francis," Zoey sang teasingly as the man turned around and speed walked back to where his fellowship of men waited. She then turned back down to Hope, whose eyes were still wide with an odd combination of appetite and disbelief. The human girl giggled before patting the witch on the head and saying, "If you look at it with any more of a fiery stare it might just cook itself, and you don't want that."

Hope smiled at Zoey as if she had just received her favorite toy for Christmas, and without any second of further delay, picked the… "meat bird" up with her razor claws and joyously dug in, the older girl following suit with her own food.

Only after a few minutes of enjoying her meal did Nick pop out of the Radio tower and call out to the others, "Hey! The flight out before ours got cancelled! We're getting out of here at eight!"

Cheers of approval and joy filled the air. Coach lifted a packet of grape juice in the air victoriously before toasting with the other men's fruit flavored boxes. Even Zoey had to hold back a large smile, afraid that if she opened her lips at all the contents of what was once on her plate would go back onto her plate… and not in the same way.

Chewing quickly, Zoey swallowed the portion in her mouth and turned to Hope before saying, "Hear that? We're going to get out of here earlier!"

However, the response did not come as desired. Instead of performing her trademark smile and nod, Hope's rigorous eating stopped. She slowly lowered what small amount was left of the raw beef in her hands as her eyes dulled and came out of focus, losing the twinkle and shine Zoey had become used to seeing. The witch lowered her head dismally as she let out a heaving sigh, dropping the rest of the meat back onto her plate.

Zoey's eyebrows came together in confusion. A weight seemed to tug down at her heart as the witch's look of hopelessness worsened when she closed her eyes, her long white hair covering her face from sight. Zoey put her own plate down and wrapped the girl's cold body in her arms, bringing her closer. "Hope? What's wrong? Why are you so upset?"

Slowly, the young girl's eyes lifted back to Zoey's. It was only then that the bangs parted, revealing the teary-eyed, solemn face of a child in true pain.

Zoey's mouth dropped slightly as confusion morphed into concern. "Hope… honey, what's wrong?"

The witch raised a shaking claw to Zoey, pointing at the human girl before she sniffled and pointed out towards the horizon where the sun was setting.

Zoey narrowed her eyes in thought at the action, but the fine line between understanding and interpretation was broken once Hope pulled away from the girl's hold and drew her knees up, hugging herself tightly.

"No…" Zoey whispered, her heart dropping into her stomach as she shook her head. "Hope, I'm not leaving without you—you know you're coming too, right?" The witch dismally shook her head as a tear fell to the ground. She hugged herself tighter, her claws pressing hard against her own skin. However, Zoey refused to give up as she leaned over and placed a hand on the pale girl's trembling shoulder. "I'm not leaving without you, Hope. If you're worried about the Pilot not accepting you we'll talk to him and I know he'll let you in. And I'll make everyone accept you and you'll live a normal life, I promise."

However, nothing seemed to consolidate the witch in her darkest hour. Instead, the girl shrugged away from Zoey's hand and stood up, though her head remained down, walking away from the edge of the building before disappearing in the Radio room.

And there she left Zoey, cold filling in as company where Hope once sat, wondering if she had done something wrong.


The sun's light had been replaced by the stars' twinkling shine and the moon's ominous glow. It was no longer cool and breezy outside, but cold and unforgiving. However, the survivors' renewed spirit challenged them to sleep outside, warmed by a sense of hope and excitement. They would be waking early tomorrow, so the sooner they went to bed the faster their escape would come. The theory had become popular amongst them—everyone else was already fast asleep, snoring their hearts away to dreams of a new life.

It was only when Zoey entered the radio room alone a few hours ago did she see Hope, her pale, balled form, leaned up against the back corner of the wall next to where Nick was still soundlessly managing the radio. One she had entered, however, he peered down to where the witch was curled before standing up, nodding his goodnights, and exiting out of the room to give the two girls their time. The temptation to hold Hope as tightly as she could and whisper sweet nothings into her ear had to be suppressed once she saw that the young girl was asleep, though restlessly.

Zoey had swallowed hard as she tried to bottle the emotions digging deeply at her heart. Instead, she decided it would be best simply if she left the witch alone to figure out whatever was destroying her on the inside. After draping a makeshift towel blanket over Hope's seemingly motionless body, the human girl set up her sleeping place alone on the floor of the room where she was lying awake at the moment.

Heavy eyes and a strong desire to remain dormant didn't help Zoey fall asleep. Though she was tired… though she had the thought of sleep biting at what was left of her conscious mind… she found that rest was almost impossible.

Zoey turned her head from her lying position to find that Hope was still in the same position as before, huddled alone in a corner away from the rest of the group.

What happened?

The question ripped mercilessly away at Zoey's mind, sending impulses of confusion and frustration all around her body.

No… Zoey shook the sleeplessness away from her body. There's no reason to be upset or worried, because I'm going to prove her wrong tomorrow. She'll come onto the helicopter because the pilot will accept her for who she is… and she'll be happy, I know it."

And it was with this reasoning that Zoey forced herself to sleep.


A barely audible metallic clack jarred Zoey out of her already-pointless sleep. She bolted up into a sitting position on full alert before looking around, immediately forcing her senses to sharpen. However, when no alerted response came from the others outside, she decided that she was simply hearing things.

Zoey groaned as she closed her eyes and rubbed her face with her hands, trying to massage some sense into her troubled mind-

-a small light caught the corner of her eyes. Zoey snapped her attention to the source to find that it was none other than the bathroom light, the door slightly ajar from the careless half-asleep occupant. Sighing as she shook her head, Zoey turned to Hope to make sure that the blankets were still on the girl-

-she was gone.

Zoey's entire body spiked with adrenalin as she saw that the corner the girl once sat in was empty, the makeshift cover tossed messily on the ground. However, she slowly relaxed as she remembered that the bathroom light was on, and Hope was probably the one in… there…

The thought slowed down in Zoey's head as it steadily transitioned into another one. Hope had never used the bathroom since they had met up… why now? Even Zoey had taken a few bathroom breaks during the day when she had a chance to freely move about… but Hope never did. What was going on?

Zoey grimaced as the thought of food poisoning crept into her mind. The poor girl might've been throwing up in there; who knew how long that uncooked beef had been sitting around.

The girl quietly got to her feet, careful not to trip as she slid out of Louis's handiwork and cautiously made her way to the bathroom. "Hope?" she whispered as she rapped the door lightly twice. "Are you okay?"

Not an answer came—that was stupid. Hope couldn't talk.

Zoey let out a disappointed sigh at herself—how inconsiderate of her.

Slowly she pushed open the bathroom door, careful not to startle the witch as she peeked to see what was going on-

-Zoey felt her knees weaken as she nearly collapsed on the floor from what sight cruelly smiled at her. Her entire body froze and her fingers went numb, her eyes widening as her mouth gaped to scream but made no sound.

Inside the bathroom, Hope was sitting on the ground in a corner, her desperate sobs and sniffles only accenting the sight. In her large claws was a shape that Zoey had become so familiar with—her own Colt 1911. The witch desperately fumbled with the weapon like a toy, but only one thing came through: the barrel was pointed at herself.

"Hope!" Zoey gasped as she darted forward and snatched the gun away in an instant and held an arm out to stop the immediate attempt to reclaim it. The witch moaned loudly in protest as she reached feebly for the weapon, her teary eyes wide with desperation. "Hope stop!"

However, the pale girl continued to fight against Zoey's push, her hands raking madly for the gun that she had just tried to take her own life with.

Empowered by adrenalin, Zoey shoved the witch back down to the ground with a powerful thrust of her hand. Hope scattered to the ground where she no longer fought, but only seized from her silent tears.

What had just happened?

It was too much. Zoey's brain tried to process the confusion into anger before it destroyed itself. A fit of rage immediately overtook the older girl as she dropped the pistol to the ground behind her and swept down to clutch the crying witch's shoulders. She ripped Hope to her feet and turned her around, meeting the pale girl's terrified, tear-filled gaze with a glare of misplaced hatred before seizing her shoulders once more, this time tightening her grip as she shook the sobbing creature violently.

"What were you thinking?" Zoey demanded in a voice that she was too blind to control. "What were you thinking Hope? Did you really want to destroy our chance at getting out of this shit hole?"

The witch's sobs turned into loud whines as she fearfully switched her attention from one of Zoey's eyes to the other, searching desperately for some form of reprieve. When she found none, her body trembled violently from the grip of the one she no longer recognized.

"Answer me god damn it!" the human girl yelled as she gave Hope another violent shake. "We were so close! Is this how you repay me? Is it? I know you can talk don't you play stupid with me!"

However, the witch remained quiet as she closed her eyes and lowered her head, her tears pouring out uncontrollably.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" Zoey screamed. "Look at me! If this is how you thank people for saving your life then maybe I should've let you die!"

The struggling came to a dead halt. Not another motion was made from the witch as the words hit her like a brick, laughing at her innermost fears now that they were nothing compared to what she had heard.

Even Zoey froze as the adrenalin wore off, slapping her cruelly back to reality. All breath escaped her lips as she stared soundlessly at the weeping creature that had once trusted her with her very life. And now…

"No…" the human girl whispered as her voice cracked. She loosened her grip of angst to one of attempted comfort. However, the witch made no motion to look up. She only remained standing as her head hung, her hair the only offering of sight she would give. "Hope… I don't know why I even said that I didn't mean it…"

Another spear flew through Zoey's heart as every second passed that the tiny, shaking girl refused to react. From underneath the curtain of coarse white came droplets of rain, splattering silently to the ground.

"Oh God Hope," Zoey breathed as she, too, began to weep bitter tears of regret. "I didn't know what to do… how to react… please forgive me you know I didn't mean it…"

Zoey's breath caught itself in her lungs as Hope finally raised her head to greet the human girl's eyes. However, instead of a look of pain in her eyes, they displayed the very thing that had earned her name… hope.

Confusion swept through Zoey's body as she was met by a weak but unmistakable smile beneath the tears streaking her face. Hope gave a small nod before eyeing something over her friend's shoulder. The human girl traced the gaze behind her to find herself staring at the Colt on the ground, its shining barrel singing to the witch.

"No," Zoey gasped as she snapped her attention back to the little girl. "You want me to…" She swallowed hard as she forced on a smile and choked out a breath of laughter in ridicule. "You can't really expect me to…" But when her smile was only returned by a shake of Hope's head, her lips faded into a trembling grimace of disbelief. "No… I can't… I won't… I won't! I didn't mean it you mean the world to me and I would never want you to… to…" Zoey coughed on her own tears as she sniffled uncontrollably, unable to say the last word. "Why Hope? Why do you want to end your life?"

Gently, desperate smile still displayed upon her lips, Hope reached down and grabbed Zoey's wrist before leading her to the bathroom's mirror. The human girl could only watch as the witch displayed them both in the reflection. Hope lifted Zoey's hand so that they could both see it in the mirror, smiling admirably as she turned it from palm up to palm down and repeated the process repeatedly. She then lowered the human hand and raised her claw, grimacing in detest at the razor sharp talons. Before Zoey could react, the witch was playing with her bobbed ponytail, fondling the soft strands carefully between her fingers before using the same claw to rub a few strands of her own white hair together. The grinding caused stiff, dry cracking noises to bounce off the bathroom's tile walls. The human girl remained silent as Hope made her last point, lightly picking up Zoey's arm and caressing it with her pale, cold palm. A shiver tore its way up and down Zoey's spine, causing the hairs on her arm to stand on end as goose bumps blemished her once-soft skin. When she reversed the roles, however, a smile of satisfaction came when the warmth on Zoey's hand graced her own frozen, pale arm.

Hope returned her attention to the mirror, causing the human girl to do the same. With a slow, shaking hand, the witch placed her claws on the top of her side on the mirror before slowly raking deep scars into its reflective surface, marring and distorting her image while keeping Zoey's perfect.

It was only then that Zoey understood.

"You…" she stuttered out, swallowing hard before she could utter the rest of the sentence. "You don't want to live because… you think you're a…" Zoey had to force the last words out of herself. "A freak?"

A warm yet pained smile blessed the girl's pale face as she turned to face the human, nodding an affirmation that Zoey just threw a bull's eye.

"Is that why… you don't want to get away from here?" she choked out, her body tensing as she tried to hold back her tears. "You just… don't want to go on?"

Tears began to well up in Hope's eyes as she nodded again, the grin broadening ever so slightly on her lips.

However, Zoey refused to accept it. She refused to let her friend… the closest one she got to ever since she started this fight against all the zombies in the world… to destroy herself, mentally or physically.

"No…" the human girl's weak voice came as she shook her head, trying her best to frown as she contributed her own tears. "No," she repeated, her voice stronger as her sight blurred. Hope's weak smile dropped into an expression of sadness as Zoey continued to shake her head. "You know what? No. That's not how it's going to do and do you know why? Because I don't care what you think." The witch's eyebrows came together as she put on a hurt face. "That's right, I don't care what you think," Zoey restated as she clenched her jaws, fighting to keep the dam that held her tears in strong. "And I don't care what anyone else thinks either. I don't care about what my parents will think, I don't care what Bill or Francis or Louis or anyone else in this entire God damn world thinks. Do you know why?" Zoey had to swallow hard to maintain control before continuing. "Because you're the most beautiful girl in this entire freaking world, that's why."

Hope's display of sadness turned into one of confusion as she looked directly into Zoey's eyes… right back into her soul… unsure of how to take the older girl's struggle to keep herself from falling apart and unsure of how to take the compliment.

"Yeah, I said it," Zoey continued, unable to stop herself as she forced a smile of ridicule on her face. "And you know what? I'm sticking to it. You know why? Because you're only probably twelve years old but you've been alone in this shithole longer than any of us. You still feel fear and you still get scared but you were strong enough to live. Me? Remember when I was stumbling through that dark room to find you after the tank split us up? I was terrified. That's right, terrified. I wanted to just kill myself to end all the fear after only like… ten seconds of being alone in that room. But you've been here, alone in the dark, for probably months now and yet here you still are."

Before the witch could try and comfort Zoey, the girl stopped her attempts by blurting out in her shaking voice, "You want to know what else? You're my idol." Hope pulled back in a motion of disbelief. "Yeah, funny huh? But you're so strong and you're so independent and you're like… probably ten years younger than me. And here you are… better than anyone else that ever got infected, with your sane mind and understanding. Your determination alone kept your humanity, while everyone else that probably called you a stupid kid before is now a mindless zombie. You outdid them and you're twelve. You're not a witch… you're a human inside of a witch's body, that's exactly what you are."

Hope swallowed hard as guilt tore at her heart. By trying to make her feel better, Zoey was destroying herself. The pale girl reached a claw out slowly to attempt to comfort her once more but was stopped yet again as the older girl lifted a hand as a gesture to stop, causing Hope to drop her hand down to her side in helplessness.

"No, no," Zoey gasped through her slowly thinning wall of composure. "And you know what? Do you want to hear it?" Before Hope could respond, however, the breaking woman only shook her head and said, "Well I'm going to tell you anyways. All of these qualities… everything you've done here has made you the girl that I'm jealous of—the independent girl I always wanted to be. And ten years more of experience than you hasn't even begun to grace me with what you already have. It's because you're you…" Zoey gestured a hand towards Hope, "Pale, cold skin, coarse hair, red eyes, claws… and an endless well of hope that kept you alive this far…." The girl clenched her jaw as a last ditch effort to keep herself together, but failed miserably as she finally broke down. Zoey fell to her knees, sobbing violently as Hope slowly knelt down beside her, unsure of if she should try and consolidate her fallen friend. "It's because you're you that I love you with everything I have!" the human girl finally cried.

Hope's breathing paused as the words played back in her head over and over like a broken record. Her entire world turned upside down as she scrambled to remember when the last time she had heard those three words spoken to her.

"Yeah, I said it!" Zoey continued through her shaken sobs. "I love you Hope! I don't know what I'd do without you and I don't ever want to be without you! You're the most wonderful, magnificent, beautiful girl I have ever met in my life and I can't go on without you now that I know what life is like with you!"

All words came to an end as the older girl buried her face in her hands, the painful cries tearing through Hope's heart.

The pale girl opened her mouth and desperately tried to say what she had on her mind… she fought against the impossible to force her voice to function once again… just so she could tell Zoey that she, too, loved her back. But no matter the strain and no matter the desire, not a single word would escape the lips that had been sworn silent for three months now.

Hope raked her brain for anything that could've demonstrated her love. A hug wasn't enough… a caress of her cold talons on Zoey's soft, warm face would never be caring enough to accurately express her feelings. There was only one thing she could do.

Cautiously… carefully… with all the control she had left in her body, Hope reached out with a claw to Zoey's chin before lifting it out of her tear-soaked hands. The broken girl's fields of green locked onto Hope's seas of fire for a brief moment before the pale girl leaned forward, and with a final push, locked lips with the human in a sweet kiss that no words would ever be able to explain.


The night was silent. The light of the bathroom that had only illuminated suffering was now extinguished. The Colt 1911 that threatened a wonderful life was safely tucked into its holster and stored on the radio table. The cold of the night was not a factor to the two bodies that lie together, love fueling warmth no blanket could ever provide. The creeping loneliness was shunned by Zoey's protective arm, holding Hope close to her own body as if she would never let go.

And the hatred Hope had for herself dissipated, replaced by the kisses she received on her cheek and the loving whisper of a sleep wished well.


Alright guys, the last chapter is coming up! I wanted to take a poll/vote thing on what should happen next!

1. A tragic ending that will strengthen the love the two girls have for each other

2. An ending that leads into a sequel, but leaves the reader angrily awaiting the final conclusion

3. A happy ending!

If you want, you can leave your votes in the reviews section or just PM me! Once I get enough votes, I can promise you that the chapter will be posted the next day! Thank you all so much!