Zoey's POV

Run like hell!

I ran as far as my legs could carry me, leaping over rooftops and beating my way through broken windows.

That rapid escape was too close for comfort; it was ridiculously stupid of me to have made such a mistake. All because of my foolish actions, I had a friend shot to death, and an enemy hunting me down for revenge.

Then there was me, with a pistol in my hand and a bottle of pills attached to my holster, left alone surviving through a zombie apocalypse.

Fuck. I was better off dead.

As I climbed down the squeaking fire escape, my foot missed the next rung of the ladder and I was sent spiralling to the asphalt. My head connected to the ground and as I let out a stifled moan, the sounds of rapid, clumsy footsteps and sharp howls tore through the atmosphere. From the ground, I shifted my head backwards and witnessed the sight of a small horde of infected bolting towards me.

Groaning from the lack of rest, I gripped the ladder to steady my weight and reached for my pistol. I turned it off safe mode and pulled the trigger as they stalked closer. After seven consecutive headshots, the remaining infected had caught up to me and scratched at my red train jacket. I flicked my pistol back onto safe mode and crammed it back into my holster as I elbowed the infected to my right.

I hooked the infected opposite me in the nose, his bones crushed into his brain as he fell in a lifeless heap. An infected on my left bit into my jacket, but I ignored it as I clipped an infected woman that appeared on my right before spinning around and upper-cutting the infected who gnawed at my jacket right against his jugular.

That was the last of them, for now. I stood amongst a heap of dead infected and admired my skills.

"Damn Zoey." I laughed to myself before I heard the familiar screech of the Hunter nearby.

Shit. Snap outta it Zoey. Stay on your guard!

I continued to sprint as far out of the city of Fairfield as fast as I could. I theorised the probability of the Hunter following me out of town, but I knew I would appear safer out in the grasslands outside Fairfield, rather than inside a city populated with the walking undead – wait, scratch that – infected.

The growl behind me shrieked with menace as I pushed my legs faster, my muscles screaming at me to let the pain stop. But it was life or death in a situation like this. I was alone now, and there was nothing I could do to defend myself against special infected. If I was constricted by a Smoker, or shredded by a Hunter (which was most likely the case) I'd be a goner. I needed back-up. I needed the help of other survivors. There had to be survivors out here somewhere…

My mind skipped back toward yesterday's scene with the Smoker and the Hunter. I'd risked the lives of two survivors, and they were probably the only four survivors left in this city. I couldn't believe how stupid I was to put them in danger. It was even worse when one of them saw me. Even if I was desperate enough to find these survivors (which I was), the younger one would dob me in for trying to kill him and his friend. And then, they'd simply kill me.

Gees… this really isn't my night.

The shriek behind me tore me from my thoughts as I built up enough courage inside of me to fight off the Hunter that wanted me dead… and as his meal. I let my stamina decrease to a jog, before I turned completely around to face my predator.

He was easy to distinguish along the elongated street splattered with brains and blood. He stood directly opposite me, his stance was menacing, as he arched his back and rocked his claws by his sides. I watched as he pulled his hoodie from his chin, up to his eyes, revealing a blood-stained grin, his lips tainted by the flesh of the innocent. His beady, yellowed eyes shot down the street like headlights, illuminating everything in his path, all the way up to me.

He was planning on making me his meal for tonight.

I thought otherwise.

"Come get some." I snarled.

The Hunter howled hysterically as he sank onto his haunches and leapt from his point. My heart quickened in pace as I watched him pounce against the brick wall of a building, he pushed off his hind legs and jumped to the store on the opposite side of the road – all the while getting closer to me. After his third hurdle, he bounded over my head to build up his momentum for the final leap. His continuous howls grew in tumult as I snatched my pistol from my holster and waited for the perfect moment to strike. Too soon – and he'd be wounded, too late – and I'd be dead.

He circled me by pouncing against the buildings within the street; his landings were masked by his growls that split through the afternoon air. His momentum built rapidly, as I realised my chances of surviving this were slim. I had to think of something to distract him. That, or I could just run for it. But in this situation, he'd catch up to me within a heartbeat and everything I had fought for would be for naught.

I watched the Hunter's leaps, and swerved my body in his direction. My fingers were itching to pull the trigger as I raised my pistol and followed his movements.

Then I realised he was only doing this to taunt me. He knew that as my fear increased, I'd have a lesser chance of being able to shoot him. That smart son of a bitch. I allowed all my anxiety and fear wash away from my body. To kill him, I needed a steady shot at the perfect time.

That was when the Hunter's howls halted. I was left standing in a deserted street, my heartbeat twitching at random beats. I breathed deeper, allowing my heartbeat to steady. My chance was coming.

I figured the Hunter was among one of the rooftops, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. I didn't look up to see where he was. I didn't look up at all. I kept my eyesight lowered, my eyes on the windows opposite me, and waited…

He didn't howl or pierce his signature growl as he set off for flight. He was silent as the city itself, as the dead were among it. I continued to wait…

It seemed as if time slowed down, as if everything were moving in extra slow motion. The Hunter was above me, halfway through his flight.

3… I heard my heart pound its final beat.

2… I heard his claws outstretch.

1… I leapt.

I dived to the right of me, and rolled against the harsh asphalt as I landed with my pistol aiming directly at the Hunter's head.

The Hunter landed a second too late, his claws stretched out as he landed in a crouch.

My finger pulled at the trigger, he let out a piercing cry and his body fell limp.

I remained lying on the stone cold cement, hearing my heartbeat stabilise to a steady beat. The exhaustion that had been hitting me for days finally took its course as every limb fell slack. My eyelids grew heavy as darkness swam through my vision.

A deep, menacing growl tore through my body, as I realised I was starving. It's been days since I've had a decent meal. All the blood I'd swallowed made me feel sick inside and I was glad that monster inside of me had been silenced. I overcame the sickness that threatened to infect me, and to lead me to a lifetime of violence and suffering.

I was thankful to be back to my normal self. My vision still swept random images across my mind, and I knew that there was a lot of information and knowledge that I was missing out on. I just had no clue as to how I was going to get everything back.

A distant roar echoed throughout the street. I sat up stiffly, and prepared myself if a horde were to come. But nothing came. Maybe it was my mind playing tricks on me. Maybe my sanity was already thinning out. It was hard enough to regain my humanity back, but my sanity? Once it's gone, it not coming back.

"Nice job Zoey. Now you're hearing things." I mumbled to myself as I stood from the ground. I planted my pistol into my holster as I scavenged the street for food and further supplies. Every store had shattered windows, barricaded by wooden planks. Doors were unhinged, others didn't even have doors. I stumbled in unwelcomingly and searched through every shelf and draw. But nothing was of important use.

I continued to the next, and then the next after that, and then the whole entire street had been searched. I kicked down the door to the last store, hoping not to surprise any roaming infected, and then scavenged for the useful goods. The store was a café. Behind all the blood and guts, it was a welcoming place. The front counter displayed cookies and cakes behind a glass covering. I launched my pistol through the glass and grabbed at a stale biscuit and a mouldy muffin.

"Better than blood." I muttered as I stashed the food into the pockets of my jacket.

I whirled around and I was grabbed by an infected woman, she had her arm around my neck as another man grabbed at my ankle. I remained calm, knowing that if I panicked, more infected would come to the scene. I grabbed at her arm and tried to pull her away. She groaned and tightened her slack against my neck. The other man had reached along my calf, his nails digging in against my skin.

I held my pistol in my left hand as I pulled the trigger and shot through the woman's hip. She screamed as blood escaped her lips. Before she could grab me again I shot her through the neck, blood splattering across my jacket and face. I fought the urge to gag as I kicked the man on the floor in the mouth, and shot him through the back of his head.

My breath came out in rapid wheezes as I leaned against the broken glass counter. I couldn't take it any more. I gagged, but nothing came. Not even blood. I dry heaved until I could contain myself. I felt sick to the core.

I unzipped my jacket and rubbed my face clean of blood and grime. This was one hell of an afternoon. I realised the sun was setting, so I pulled myself together and stole a few more goodies from the counter. Before I left I searched through the cash register in case someone had left a pistol or an explosive. But all that was left was coins and dollar notes.

"Damn it." I sighed.

I leant down and searched through the shelves. A glint of silver caught my eye as I found a pistol hidden beneath the glassy remains.

I smiled with glee, "Now that's what I'm talkin' about." I swiftly grabbed the pistol and exited the café before I stumbled into further trouble.

I darted my eyes along the street, recognising that there was nothing left for me here. This city was overrun with zombies and escaping survivors. It was better to get myself out of here than to deal with the remains. So I headed east, toward the entrance of Fairfield, silently saying goodbye to the home I grew to love.

I walked along the grasslands, and questioned myself as to where I was going to go next. Pennsylvania was always open; my one true home was still home. But I knew Pennsylvania was swarming with infected, and everyone I knew was probably one of them. I cringed at the thought of my parents and wiped the tears that escaped.

I took a breath and kept my sight straight. That was when something in the distance caught my attention. A torrent of smoke whirled high in the air over an immense dark object. I couldn't comprehend what it was from this distance, but no doubt it was a vehicle.

Despite my exhaustion, I found myself jogging over to the massive wreck. I realised survivors could be out here.

"Hello!" I called out. There was no answer.

The closer I came to the wreckage; I recognised that it was a smashed helicopter. The only body I could vaguely see was an infected man dressed in his flight gear. He must have been the pilot. But where were the survivors? Why didn't I ever come across any survivors!

Among the debris and the remains of the charred metal, a black object called out to me. It was swaying in the light breeze of the early night. The piece of black was caught between shards of glass, and the closer I came to the object, the more it looked like a piece of clothing.

I was careful to avoid my skin scratching against the glass as I grasped at the black leather. I pulled it out cautiously and held it close to me. I sniffed the piece of leather, and then it all came back to me.

The reason why I was out here, the few months I've spent fighting through this apocalyptic world. All of the bites, scratches and scars. All of the near death experiences. Everything rushed back, all of the gruesome fighting for salvation. But not only that. I remember my friends – the family that we became after the first two weeks of this hell. I remember him.

I remember his sarcastic remarks, his bad boy attitude and his fearless demeanour towards the zombies. I remember his crude behaviour and his hate for almost everything in the world. I remember his smell, the musky scent mixed in with his sweat. I remember his face, and how he used to hold me through the chilly nights when I felt alone.

"Francis." I breathed.

I knew he was still out there.

And I was going to find him.

Bill's POV

"How long has he been out there for?" I asked as I lit another cigarette.

"Could be ten, or twenty minutes by now." The girl opposite me – Rochelle I think her name was – answered. She reminded me of Zoey, not just because she was a woman, but there was a careful determination to her, she yearned to reach salvation. I knew by looking at her, she was going to get it. She was strong, stronger than Zoey.

"You think we should bring him back inside?" Louis asked.

I shrugged. "He needs to get it out of his system. If we go and get him, he'll lash out at us." I took a long drag and sighed with contentment.

Rochelle's lip quivered, "I'm surprised he didn't lash out at us."

Nick who was sitting next to her cracked his knuckles, "Wish he did. I'd show that bastard." He muttered under his breath.

"Hold your tongue, son." I pointed my finger at him, "You two better quit this nonsense. Never turn your back on an ally. We're fighting a damn apocalypse, kid!" I barked.

I watched as Nick sat upright, about to bite back before Rochelle slapped him at the back of his head. "Nick, why don't you help me wash the plates?" Rochelle ordered as she started piling the dirty plates we'd just eaten from.

He grumbled, never taking his eyes off mine. "Fine."

I glared at him as he stalked out of the room.

"Do you trust them?" I heard Louis whisper next to me as soon as they left the room.

I took a second drag, and sighed, "Not the suit."

Louis chuckled next to me. Full from the food Rochelle cooked, I stood from the couch and limped over to the safe room door. Francis was still out there, alright. Nothing could stop that man. Not at a time like this. I didn't even worry as he became surrounded by swarming infected. He continued on strong, just like a soldier.

I watched as he grabbed an infected by the back of the head, he twisted his neck and then smashed his face against the brick wall, blood splattering his clothes. Of course, any person in their right mind would flinch from seeing something as terrible as that. But war changes everything about you. I've seen it all. And hell, I knew where the boy was coming from. The end of the world changes you, shapes you into a different person from the one you were before.

But this was still Francis. My lips pulled up in a smile as I remembered how it all began.

Francis' POV

I felt the monster escape the confines of my body. All of the rage, the stress, and the hurt built into a tornado of angst that needed to be unleashed. I wasn't going to be a dick and bash everyone here. I stormed out of the safe room, and kicked the metal door down with immense power as it dented from the force of my foot and burst open.

I turned a direct left and was out in the main street of Fairfield. Infected swarmed the area as I stalked up to one. He was leaning selflessly against the brick wall; I grabbed the back of his head and crushed his skull into the wall, his blood splattered over everything within a foot of the surrounding. This caught the attention of two others who sprinted towards me. I grabbed the female and twisted her neck. I heard her neck crack and split, the force of it disentangled her spine as she fell limp. The male scratched at my skin, and as I let out a snarl, I head butted his forehead and shoved him to the ground and compressed his head with my foot.

A familiar screech tore into the street as I recognised the sneer of a Smoker. I saw him from the rooftop above me and I watched as his tongue shot out with quick speed. I grabbed at his tongue and pulled with all the power I could muster, the Smoker snarled and fell off the rooftop and tumbled to the ground. I snapped his tongue in two and landed a punch to his boiled face.

From the loud outcry of the Smoker, I observed as several infected bolted from down the street, their cries piercing and fearless. They surrounded me within a minute, I mustered every last ounce of strength within me and destroyed them. One infected I kicked in the groin and then launched both my hands over his ears in a thunderous strike that cracked his skull. The next I grabbed by the head and sent his head soaring into the brick wall, his blood showered every one of us as I let his body go. I ignored the bites and scratches from the infected, and instead focused on annihilating them one at a time.

I grabbed the next one and kneed it in the stomach, it snarled and swiped at my knee before I grabbed its body and flung it into the swarm. I turned around and kicked a woman in the neck, once hearing the bone crack I punched her chest and she was sent spiralling to the floor. Before I could turn around, a male grabbed at my neck and jumped onto my back. I shrieked from his force and grabbed his arm and flipped his entire body over mine and sent his back smashing against the asphalt.

I howled into the night and bolted towards the infected that were sprinting towards me. I collided into one, my hand shaped into a punch, tore into his nose as he let out his final cry.

Bloodied and breathless, the growl of a Hunter pierced into the night. I steadied myself and watched for the approaching creature. I spotted movement in my peripheral vision as, claws outstretched, it leapt towards me. Before I let him tackle me down, I grabbed onto his arms and we flew to the ground, spiralling over each other as I landed on top of him. He yelped, unfamiliar in this position and I punched his face and knocked the back of his head continuously into the cement.

"Damn pricks. Too easy." I muttered.

I stood from the ground, almost hoping for a Tank to come pounding down the street. Even then, I didn't think I would be able to take it, because after I was killed, it would have gone for the others. I didn't want that, unless it was Nick the Tank was going for. I chuckled at the thought.

I limped back toward the safe room, my angst clearly satisfied. I could still go for a little more, except there were no more infected left roaming this street. Those fuckers were already dying out. I'd have to wait until I thought of a plan of action. I suspected the others weren't going to help me find Zoey, but even so, I was still going to search. Then, my angst would be satisfied!

I entered back into the safe room, and closed the metal door behind me. The dents I created had unhinged it and it was unable to be completely locked. Ah well. We weren't going to stay here long anyway.

I turned around and ignored the glimpses from the others. No one dared to say anything as I immediately sat down, sighed and rested my head in my hands.

Bill's POV

He came back in, and after struggling with the safe room door, he sat down and kept to himself. None of us made any attempt to talk to him; we'd give him the time to come to himself. I took my last drag from my cigarette before it flickered to the ground and I stomped on the ashes.

I turned towards the unconscious survivors in the corner of the room. Coach, the larger man hadn't moved at all. I was worried the man wasn't going to wake up. It was also mysterious as to how his torso was patched together. My thoughts were that the younger one, Ellis, had patched him up before an infected got him.

My vision shifted towards Ellis as he stared back at me. "He's awake." My heart jolted in my chest as I was glad to see him alive. The more survivors in the group, the safer we'd all be.

"Ellis!" Rochelle leapt from the couch and helped the young man up. "Sweetie, how are you feeling? Do you want something to eat? I hope you ain't hurting too much. I've got some pills for you." The young man chuckled as he stood straight.

"Rochelle, you're too good to me. I'm fine, but I could sure do with somethin' to eat." His gaze followed every one of us as he smiled.

"Sure thing honey, I'll be right back." Rochelle swiftly left the room as Ellis took a seat next to Nick.

"Good to see you're alive, kid. It's been too quiet around here." Nick said as he leaned further back into the couch.

"Feels good to be back with y'all. So err, Nick, who are these guys?" Ellis asked politely.

Louis stood and shook hands with Ellis, "I'm Louis. Good to see you're doing okay. We were worried." Louis offered him a smile before sitting back down.

"Well it's good to meet you." He smiled back.

Ellis turned to me as I sighed, "I'm Bill." I nodded and then held my hand out toward our comrade, "That's Francis."

"Nice to meet y'all."

Rochelle entered into the room with a warm bowl of soup. "Hope that warms you up, honey." She smiled before rubbing his back.

"Thanks Rochelle. Boy, I'm starvin'!"

Rochelle giggled and then seated herself on the floor. "Ellis." She started. "After you're done, we want to talk to you about what happened."

I watched as the boy's expression swiftly changed. His lips quivered only for a moment before he smiled, "Well sure." He started digging into his food as he slurped the soup within a few minutes.

His cheeks flushed as he realised he had everyone's attention on him. He set his bowl down before making himself comfortable. "Well uh, after Rochelle startled the car alarm, I saw Coach bein' dragged by that damn Smoker. So, course I went to help him out. But next thing I know, the Smoker's got me!" I watched as Ellis' expression changed to confusion, then to realisation. He eyed us all and then continued with the facts. "Before I know it, Coach is bein' shredded by the Hunter and I thought we were both gonna die."

Rochelle gulped as silence filled the room. "What happened after that?" she whispered.

"I guess you guys came after that. Thank the lord you came when ya did. I was scared we were gonna lose Coach." All six pairs of eyes glanced towards Coach in a solemn silence. Rochelle leant over to Ellis and placed her hand on his knee.

"Sweetie, I know some parts might seem hazy to you. But uhm…" Rochelle stopped mid-sentence and stared at me. I nodded to urge her on, waiting to hear Ellis' reply. "Did you patch Coach up?"

Ellis' expression shifted a second time, before it ended in surprise, "N-no I didn't. Glad he was patched up though." Ellis chuckled. I glared at him without meaning to. I knew the kid was hiding something. Someone must have patched Coach up; there was no other evidence to prove otherwise.

Nick straightened up in his seat, "Dude, that's total bullshit."

Ellis stiffened in his seat, "What is total bullshit, Nick?"

"Kid, we're asking how Coach was patched up! Did you see anyone there?" Nick raised his voice, I could see he wanted to slap Ellis one.

"I didn't see no one. And I have no idea how Coach was patched up y'hear?"

Everyone stopped with the questioning and the accusations. We all knew it as a fact. Someone had patched Coach up. If it wasn't Ellis, then who was it? I sat quietly to myself as the others started another conversation. Obviously, an infected wouldn't have patched him up, so that's crossed off the list. If there were other survivors helping out, they would have shown themselves earlier. I wouldn't see why they would decide to disappear in the last minute.

My mind skipped automatically to Zoey. Even though deep inside I knew she was either dead, or infected, I couldn't help but think she was behind all of this. Maybe she was in the alleyway, and maybe she patched Coach up and then ran for it. That's something Zoey would do.

I shifted my sight towards Francis. He remained silent throughout the entire interrogation, and still continued to do so. He was in deep thought, almost as if he were thinking exactly what I was thinking. I turned back toward Ellis and interrupted their conversation, "Son, did you see a woman in a red jacket back there? Did she patch Coach up?"

Ellis stared at me and self consciously thought for a moment. "Naw, I didn't see a woman. I didn't see anyone at all." A guilty expression flashed across his features as he smiled at me before returning to the conversation with Nick.

Normally, I can read anyone like an open book, and I know for a fact that the kid was lying. He wasn't able to steady his facial expressions while he was talking. Maybe he could learn a thing or two from the conman next to him.

Nonetheless, I knew Zoey had been there, and that she was alive.

My eyes flickered toward Francis. He finally positioned himself upright and glared at me, almost as if he were thinking, 'I told you so.'

I twisted my lip into a wicked smile before pulling out a cigarette from my secret stash.

"Let's get you cleaned up Francis." Rochelle offered.

I watched Francis leave the room, his eyes never leaving mine.

A/N: Another chapter!
Just really wanted to say thanks for sticking with me this far guys! I know the plot may seem a little complicated, and probably gets a little boring, but I promise I'll make up for it by the end. I've planned everything for the rest of the story, and I hope you guys will continue and hopefully, grow to like it!
A major thank you to all who reviewed + alerted, and offered support and constructive criticism. Huge thanks to The Shining Freak, VampAcademychick120, VastGranada and xAme-chan! I love every one of you guys for it.
Also, if anyone wants to voice any ideas or opinions, I'll do my best to fit it in with the story. :)
Over and out!