(A/N: I'm sorry for how long this took. I meant to have this chapter uploaded last month, and I actually had over half of it written. Unfortunately, I went through a pretty rough breakup with my girlfriend of over a year, and the depression and lack of motivation that followed made writing very difficult, especially a chapter such as this where I really needed to have a clear head. But abandoning the story was never in my mind and never has been, so I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thank you all for your patience.)

Book 1: The Mob Invasion
Chapter 11: Unimaginable Loss

Days Since the Mob Invasion: 749

"Shit's fucked," Hunter astutely pointed out as he and Alan walked through the forest tracking Jericho and his army. Lana had let them borrow her compass for the expedition, seeing how Hunter had 'lost' his, so they'd have a definite way of getting back to Hunter's Watch if he got lost. Hunter held onto the compass as if his life depended on it.

The morning was overcast. Dark. Hunter could smell the rain in the air, and he was certain that it'd be pouring before the day was over. Alan followed close behind them as they quietly trekked through the underbrush.

"You should have told us, Hunter," Alan scolded in a whisper. "Especially Lana."

Keeping the fact that Rinoa had stolen Hunter's compass a secret was pretty big. Alan had only heard stories about Rinoa from the others, but from what he had picked up, she seemed to be a very unhinged and dangerous person. Even Hunter, perhaps Rinoa's biggest sympathizer other than Lana, seemed scared of her. With Hunter's compass, she would come back to Hunter's Watch for revenge, everyone was sure of it.

Hunter sighed, "You think I didn't want to, man? I was going to at least tell Lana, but then you showed up, the Testificates got killed, and then the next thing I know we have this Jericho asshole banging on our gates threatening to kill us all for some holy squid god that they apparently worship. Needless to say, I haven't exactly found the best opportunity for it." Hunter grunted, ducking beneath a low-hanging vine. "That being said, it's not exactly like last night was the best opportunity either," he smirked, rubbing his cheek.

"Yeah, how's your face?" Alan asked. "Lana seemed pretty mad. I didn't think we would be able to pull her off of you after you told her."

"Hah, well, it still stings. Lana hits harder than you'd expect for someone her size."

"Can you blame her?"

"No," Hunter slightly frowned. "No, I can not... Look, I know I screwed up by not telling everyone, and we can talk more about that when we get back, but for now can we just focus on following these tracks?" Hunter figured that the others could stone him with guilt all they want when him and Alan return, but as of right now all he wanted to focus on was keeping up with Jericho.

Alan complied, and for a while there was silence.

"Hey, I'm curious," Hunter said after a few minutes of quiet. "What did you do before all this? I just realized we've been so caught up with things recently I haven't even had the opportunity to ask you."

Life before all this? Alan could hardly even remember anymore. Did it really even matter?

"Well," Alan sighed. "I was a student at the Capitol University. But you and the others already knew that. I studied alchemy under Master Dodin, I was one of his apprentices. I also studied advanced first aid along with a bit of herblore. I wanted to be a field-medic." Alan smiled softly as faint visions of his days at the University filled his mind.

"Ahhh, I see now," Hunter chuckled. "That explains why you were able to keep such a cool head when you were patching up my wounds earlier. Hell, I think anyone else would have lost their nerve. Except maybe Daren, he's used to the 'blood and guts' thing."

Alan nodded, even though Hunter couldn't see it while he was in front of him.

"Yeah, I had a little bit of training during the Edgelands Rebellion. Master Dodin took me and a few of the other apprentices with him to one of the Imperial camps outside of the battlegrounds. I helped tend to some of the less severely wounded soldiers. Some people think it's just a matter of pouring a potion of healing or drinking a potion of regeneration, but it's not. It actually takes a lot of studying and practice to figure out the right dosages for a specific wound, which types of potions to use, and which order to use potions to effectively reduce recovery time." Alan laughed softly. "You know, simple stuff like that."

Studying alchemy and medicine wasn't easy, but in those brief few days of working on the battlegrounds, he felt like he really made a difference. He felt like he saved people.

Hunter whistled quietly, "Shit, Alan. You're a regular saint. See, my family never really got too caught up in the war. Too busy tending the farm, I guess. But, hey, somebody's gotta put food on the table, right?" he laughed, but frowned almost immediately after. "I miss the farm," he mumbled to himself. At the time, he almost hated it. Waking up early. Nearly breaking his back to tend the soil. Feeding and caring for all the animals... But, at the end of the day, he realized that he wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

It sure as hell beat living the way they were now.

Alan noticed Hunter's change in demeanor and decided not to say anything else. They carried on in silence.

The two continued to follow the tracks and eventually made their way into a clearing within the forest and came across what looked to be an abandoned camp. With the embers of a large campfire still burning, as well as the multiple foot prints around the area, Hunter and Alan deduced that this camp had to have been used by Jericho and his army, and that they had only recently left.

"Well, shit on a biscuit, we fuckin' missed 'em." Hunter groaned as he looked around the campsite, examining the various litter that had been left behind. A broken tent, empty crates, piles of hay, an old water bucket, a few tree stumps as well as a few empty glass bottles all strewn around the smoldering campfire.

"Are we sure they won't be coming back?" Alan asked, justifiably worried that at any moment Jericho's small army would have them surrounded and outnumbered.

"Nah, I don't think so." Hunter pointed towards the direction of the tracks leading away from the campsite. "They went north." Hunter raised his finger to point to the large, snow-capped mountains in the distance, only several miles away now. "Towards the Iron Mountains... but why...?" Hunter's voice trailed off.

The Iron Mountains, the natural border that separated North Minecraftia from South Minecraftia, was inhospitable. Even during the summer months, the extreme elevation caused the mountains to be perpetually covered in snow. The only way to cross through the mountains on foot would be through the Notched Way, the famous trail that was carved through the mountains by Emperor Notch's army as they advanced into the south of Minecraftia during the Baron Wars. Why would Jericho risk going there?

"Maybe," Alan hypothesized as he stood next to Hunter, "it's not the mountains themselves, but what's on the other side?"

"The Edgelands," Hunter answered, nodding to himself. It would make sense. Jericho, Amelia, as well as most of the people in their army had Edgeland accents and even spoke the old Edgelands language.

"Which means, they're going to go get more supplies... or more soldiers," Alan deduced. The thought was enough to shake him to the bones. They got lucky yesterday by using that stockpile of TNT dynamite that Rinoa had left in the mines. Funnily enough, from everything bad that Alan had heard about Rinoa, she saved everyone's life yesterday, albeit inadvertently.

The two of them stood there, backs turned to the campsite, as they stared towards the looming mountains. Hunter wasn't sure what to do with that information, or what to tell the others when they returned to Hunter's Watch. Hell, between Jericho's army and the whole Rinoa situation, maybe it would be best if they all just picked up and moved somewhere else? Sure, they had walls, but how safe would that really keep them in the long run? In the grand scheme of things, Hunter wasn't too surprised. Any town with walls is going to attract attention sooner or later. But where would they even move to if they did decide to change locations? If they had more people-

"Hissss..."

Hunter's eye shot open and his blood went cold as his train of thought was interrupted by an all too familiar 'hiss.' He quickly spun around to see it: a creeper, standing right next to Alan, with its leaf-like body starting to swell.

Out of the corner of Alan's left eye, he saw the green figure standing right next to him. Frozen in fear, all he could do was stand there completely unable to move.

"ALAN! WATCH-"

BOOM!

The point-blank blast was enough to throw Alan off of his feet, slamming him directly into Hunter's body. The two rolled on the ground away from each other as the explosion rocked the earth underneath them.

Hunter's ears were ringing as his body came to a stop. Landing on his back, Hunter's entire body ached from his ears to his legs, and it took him a full minute before he found the strength to raise his head and look around. Looking at his body, he realized he was bleeding pretty bad on his side, and he felt blood stream down his face, but the wounds didn't look life-threatening. Maybe Alan's body had taken the brunt of the damage.

Alan!

Hunter's body jerked in realization as he painfully sat up and looked around to find Alan. His gaze soon met Alan's body, sprawled on the ground several feet away from him.

He's not moving. Why isn't he moving?

Struggling to his feet, Hunter winced as it felt like both of his legs were on fire. Biting back the pain, he limped over to inspect Alan, when something from the bushes on the other side of the camp caught his eye and his ears.

Walking very slowly out of the bushes in a line, five zombies hobbled out of the forest into the campsite, groaning all along the way.

"Oh shit," Hunter cursed, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. He watched as the zombies' rotten, black eyes met his. Then, in unison, the zombies looked down at Alan's body still laying on the ground between them and Hunter. "Oh shit!" Hunter yelled as he saw the zombies make their move as they advanced toward Alan.

Unsheathing the small dagger on his hip, Hunter limped as fast as he could over to Alan's body. Kneeling down, he quickly rolled him over and gasped. The entire side of Alan's face was covered in blood and severely wounded from the explosion that ripped his skin into shreds. Hunter was sure that Alan was dead, but checking his pulse, he realized that he still had a heartbeat, albeit faint. He was alive! Alan was still alive! Hunter looked up and saw the zombies, slowly making their way closer to their prey.

"Alan, wake up! Alan!" Hunter shook Alan's shoulders in a desperate attempt to wake him. He looked back up and saw the zombies had gotten even closer. They'd be on top of them in a couple of seconds. "Alan, please! Alan!"

The zombies were only a few feet away now.

"ALAN!"

A feeling of weightlessness washed over Alan's body after the explosion. It was all a bit fuzzy, but the last thing he remembered was the explosion from the creeper, and the feeling of his body flying through the air from the force of the blast.

He didn't remember ever hitting the ground.

But now he was alone. Floating. Surrounded by a near blinding white light everywhere he turned. It was like he was in a completely white room that expanded for as far as the eye could conceivably see. And yet, he did not feel any hard surface underneath his feet. No floor. This place could not be physical. He was almost positive that he was dead.

Looking down at his hands, he could see that he was still clothed and still had feelings in his fingers. He pinched his side just to make sure, and the sharp pain that followed confirmed it. If he was dead, he could still feel, and he still had his body. At least for now.

"Hello."

A girl's soft voice from behind him shattered the silence. Quickly spinning around, Alan was shocked to find a young girl, probably a few years younger than him, standing there patiently waiting for him with a smile. She had light brown hair cut short, hazel-blue eyes, and pale skin. She appeared to be wearing a long, blue dress that was simple in design but still very beautiful. Her smile, though, was what grabbed Alan's attention. Her teeth were white as pearls and it was surprisingly reassuring, giving him a small amount of comfort.

"W-where am I? Am I...?" Alan stumbled. The girl let out a small laugh at this as if she predicted in her mind that's what he would say.

"No, Alan. You're not dead. But you are very close to it." Her smile faded to a concerned frown. "That creeper almost killed you. I'm the only thing stopping you from passing on right now."

Alan visibly jerked at his name being mentioned.

"You know my name? How? Who are you?" Alan asked, nearly panicking. The girl placed her hand on Alan's shoulder reassuringly. Her touch was unnaturally cold, and yet consoling. It reminded him of a mother trying to calm down a frantic child.

"Relax. You're safe here, you just need to trust me. I've been watching you for the past few days, Alan. I know almost everything about you... But do you know anything about me?" the girl asked, smiling once again. Alan raised his eyebrows, perplexed by her question.

"What do you mean? I've never met you before in my life."

Once again, the girl let out a soft laugh, showing off her perfect teeth. "Maybe not," she said. "But, don't I look a little... familiar?"

Alan examined her carefully again. Pale skin, hazel-blue eyes, a Capitol accent, light-brown hair, almost red. The more he looked at her, the more he realized that she did look familiar. Hell, she looked a lot like Lana, almost like they were related...

Lana...

The realization hit Alan like a punch to the stomach as he opened his mouth in surprise.

"You're... you're Lana's youngest sister. You're Sofie," Alan stuttered out. Pleased with his answer, the girl nodded, confirming Alan's guess. "How? How is any of this possible? You're dead! What is happening?" Alan asked again, more than a little freaked out that he was having a conversation with a dead person.

"There are many things outside your realm of knowledge, Alan. It would take too long to explain it, and we're running out of time. All you need to know is that death is never just the end," Sofie smiled and moved in closer to Alan, looking up into his eyes with a spark of hope. "It's just the beginning."

Not sure what to make of this, or even where to begin on his questions about the afterlife, Alan asked his next question. "What do you want?" He figured it was a practical question. Sofie wouldn't be having this conversation with him for no reason.

"You found my journal the other night, in my house's basement. Do you remember?" Sofie straightened up and asked Alan, her demeanor becoming slightly more serious in tone.

"Yeah, I remember," Alan responded. "I also found a zombie chained up in a cage in there. What was all that about?"

"You need to go back into the basement and read the rest of my journal. All of the answers you need are in there, they will help you. I wasn't able to stop this nightmare... but maybe with my help, you can." Sofie grabbed Alan's shoulders, stressing the importance of her words. "You have to trust me, Alan. It was my life's work after the mob invasion, you'll need it if you ever want things to return to the way they were. Do you understand me?" she asked, desperately searching Alan's eyes for an answer.

Dumbfounded by what Sofie could possibly mean, but realizing they might not have much time left, Alan responded with a simple nod of his head, unable to find the words to express his agreement. Clearly relieved by this, Sofie smiled as she took a few steps backwards.

"Thank you, Alan. I'm sure you'll be able to do what I couldn't. I have to leave now, but just know that I'll be watching your journey from here on out. Good luck, my friend. You'll never be alone." Beaming with apparent joy, Sofie gave Alan a nod before turning her back on him and beginning to walk away, as if she was about to walk through a magical doorway that Alan couldn't see. Instantly, Alan found his strength to talk again, and immediately shouted out the one question that had burned in his mind since he first heard about Sofie's death.

"Did William kill you?" Alan practically yelled in a desperate attempt to stop Sofie before she could leave. It worked. Stopping in her tracks, Sofie let out a deep sigh as she turned around and began walking back over to Alan. Her smile had turned into a cold, angry scowl, and quite frankly, it scared Alan. Now standing in front of him, she wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and brought her mouth up to his left ear. Alan could feel the chill of her breath as she whispered very quietly.

"Don't trust their lies."

Alan felt the cold breath as it spread to the rest of his body, freezing him to the bone. His vision began to blur, and he began to feel as if he was falling, but very slowly. The white light that had surrounded him started to go black, and the vision of Sofie immediately disappeared. Darkness had swallowed him up, and although his mouth was open, he could not scream for help no matter how hard he tried. Finally, he felt his body as it collided with the hard, rocky surface of the ground, and he was immediately knocked into a deep sleep.

Groaning, Alan slowly began to regain consciousness as he felt his body leaned up against what he assumed to be a tree. He attempted to move, but a dull pain in his left arm stopped him. Opening his eyes, he looked down to see that his arm was in a makeshift sling made of his own shirt, and had multiple bandages wrapped around it.

"Ah, so he lives!" Alan heard Hunter's familiar voice in front of him. Looking up, he saw Hunter sitting on the other side of a small campfire that had been built between the two. The sky was dark, and it looked like night-time would be on them very soon. Hunter was also leaning against a tree, and he too seemed to be faring pretty poorly. A large gash on his forehead was still bleeding, and he looked like he was coated in zombie guts. Nevertheless, Hunter was happily drinking whiskey from his flask as if he had no care in the world. Although there was a campfire in front of them, they weren't at the same campsite as they were before, and they were deep in the forest now away from any clearings.

"Hunter... what happened?" Alan groaned. It hurt him just to speak, much less move. Hunter laughed drunkenly, bellowing out loud. He just smiled and tossed a potion of regeneration over the campfire for Alan.

"Drink up, friend! Would have given it to you sooner, but eh..." Hunter took another swing of his flask, and let out a long, deep sigh, seemingly satisfied. "You know," he slurred. "Creepers are nasty little fuckers. They're made of leaves and are light as a feather, so you can barely fuckin' hear them before they get up right on top of you and... boom... just like that," Hunter rambled on staring into the campfire.

A little put-off by Hunter's drunkenness, but nonetheless happy that his friend was still alive, Alan used his right arm to pop the top off the potion he was given and quickly drank the contents, feeling the effects of the elixir starting to kick in almost immediately.

"Do we have anymore healing potions?" Alan inquired as he finished the bottle. "I know we took a few with us, you should use it on your head wound there," Alan pointed out. Hunter just shook his head, grinning to himself.

"Well, bud, I appreciate the concern, but I used all of them on your face and arm... Added some bandages too. I, uh, couldn't fix the ear though... Sorry about that."

Wait, my ear? Alan thought.

Still hurting, Alan reached his right hand over to touch his left ear and...

"By the gods..." Alan whispered as tears welled up in his eyes. It was gone. Completely. The skin around had been healed by the healing potion that Hunter had administered, but the ear itself was blown clean off from the creeper. Frantic, Alan snapped his finger several times right beside where the ear used to be.

Nothing. He couldn't hear anything out of his left ear. He was now effectively half-deaf.

Struggling to come to terms with this, Alan felt as if he was about to vomit up the potion of regeneration that he had just drank. "I-I can't hear anything in that ear anymore, Hunter... It's deaf. I think I'm going to be sick."

Hunter shrugged. "Well, shit, man. I'm sorry. But, hell, at least you're alive, right? That's more than some people can say, right? Maybe some whiskey will help you feel better. I know it does me." Hunter's blasé attitude about the situation was starting to piss Alan off as Alan scowled at him.

"Is there ever a time when you're not fucking drunk, Hunter?!" Alan snapped. Hunter looked up at him, his demeanor changing as he frowned, looking genuinely saddened. Without saying a word, Hunter stood up in front of Alan and reached down, pulling up his left pants leg. Not realizing what it was at first, Alan gasped when he saw it.

A fresh bite mark halfway up the calf and still oozing blood. Hunter was bitten.

Speechless, Alan just sat there as tears began to now freely stream down his face. Hunter chuckled as he lowered the pants leg.

"Yeah... That was about my same reaction too. 'Shit's fucked,' right?" Hunter sat back down and took another swig of alcohol. "And do you wanna know how I got bit, Alan?" he asked, feigning curiosity. "By saving your ass from about half a dozen fuckin' zombies that wanted to turn you into their dinner!" he slammed his fist into the ground as he began to yell. "I could have just left your ass and used you as a distraction while I got away, but no! I tried to fuckin' save you, and look what it fuckin' got me, Alan!" Hunter screamed at the top of his lungs as he pointed to his leg. "I'm infected! It's over for me, Alan! Over! So excuse me if I want a drink right now, alright!?" Hunter's eyes were on fire as he stared down Alan's illuminated face from the campfire. Alan didn't know what to say.

"Hunter, I-"

Alan was cut off by the sound of thunder above as they both looked up. A few short seconds later, it started to rain very heavily, as the deluge extinguished their fire. Hunter laughed in disbelief, unable to believe his luck.

"Hah, and I thought today couldn't get any shittier." Seething with anger, Hunter threw his flask into the now wet embers of the fire as he felt the rain start to wash the blood off his face. "I even used a potion of healing on it. I knew it wouldn't work, potions of healing can't cure a zombie's bite, but still. I thought it wouldn't hurt to try, right?" Hunter curled up into a ball where he was sitting. "But nothing happened. Nothing."

The pang of guilt in Alan's chest made him feel like he was about to explode. "Hunter... I'm so sorry. I never wanted any of this." Hunter looked up at Alan and the anger cooled down inside of him. He just shrugged as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"It's alright, Alan. It's not your fault. I'm just... I don't know what to do. I've survived so long, I just kind of thought that I'd drink myself to death before I got bit and... well, here we are." Hunter flinched as he felt a pain shoot up his leg. "Hell, I can't even amputate it anymore, it's already well in my system. All I can do is just... wait, I guess," Hunter concluded, accepting his fate. He would die soon. And then he would turn into a zombie. That was his reality now, whether he liked it or not.

Alan realized, despite what Hunter said, that this was his fault. Not knowing what else to say, he slowly crawled over to where Hunter was sitting and sat beside him. Hunter looked over at him, confused.

"Then we wait together," Alan said, giving Hunter a small smile.

"Alan, you don't have to-"

"Yes, I do," Alan interrupted, "I just have to." Alan firmly looked at Hunter's face waiting to get an answer. Hunter stared back at him, not sure what to make out of a guy like Alan.

"Alright," Hunter conceded with a grin. "We'll wait. Together." Hunter pulled out the dagger from his belt sheath as well as Lana's compass and handed them both to Alan. "But, when it's time... I need you to make sure I don't come back."

Alan hesitated for a second, but the look on Hunter's face said it all. He didn't want to turn into a zombie under any circumstances. Nobody did. Alan at least owed him that much. He nodded as he accepted Hunter's terms. He took the dagger from Hunter's hands, and kept it at his side.

"Thank you, Alan... I appreciate it." Hunter sighed as he looked upwards toward the sky, rain cascading down on his face. His legs were already completely numb, and he could feel it moving upward to his chest. He didn't have too much longer. "So, what now?" he asked, still feeling a slight buzz from the alcohol. Alan thought for a second, not sure what to say, but then he started giggling, holding his ribs in pain. "What's so funny?" Hunter asked as he looked over at Alan, not sure where the sudden outburst of laughter came from.

"Did I ever tell you about that time when one of my partners at the Capitol University poisoned herself?" Alan said in between laughs. This, of course, caused Hunter to laugh as well.

"Hah, what? Seriously? How'd she manage to do that?"

"Heh, well, it was her first year at the university, right? So she was brand new, just came off the boat from Spawn Pointe. Anyway, we were all supposed to be making potions of regeneration that day for our first assignment, and we were supposed to demonstrate it on ourselves by drinking it." Alan took a break to catch his breath before continuing. "Anyway, we were all taking turns demonstrating our brew of the potion, then we get to her, right? This dumb broad takes one large swig of her 'potion', swallows it, and you can see her face instantly turn completely green, like a frog!"

"You're joking!" Hunter croaks out in between his laughter. "She didn't!"

"She did!" Alan howls, slapping his knee. "Before we could even ask her what was wrong, she starts puking all over the place. Master Dodin immediately had us all hold her down while he administered a potion of regeneration. Puke got all over us!" Alan was crying tears of laughter as he described the scenario, and Hunter was right there with him. "She got better, of course, and she actually ended up becoming one of our best poison makers. Penelope was her name, I think. Penelope Schultz."

"Hey, I got a story for you," Hunter said, grinning ear to ear. "Did I ever tell you the story my grandad told me about how he accidentally slept with a baron's wife during the Baron Wars?"

"What? No way!" Alan laughed, waving his hand dismissively.

"Uh, yes way!" Hunter retorted as he began to recount the story. "So, like any good story, this story begins with a bunch of bored friends, and a lot of booze!"

And for the next hour or so, they sat against the side of that tree telling stories to each other about life before the mob invasion as they got drenched by the rain. Hunter would tell stories of some of his drunken exploits in the country side around his family's farm, and Alan would provide Hunter with tales of what city life was like in the Capitol. They told each other stories of their previous girlfriends, what they would have done in life had the mob invasion hadn't happened, stories from their childhood, and anything else that came to mind. Alan had to ask Hunter to repeat himself several times throughout the conversation as he began to struggle with his new deafness in his left ear, but overall it wasn't so bad. The hearing in his right ear still seemed to work fine, and he could tell that Hunter was enjoying his last moments, which was all that mattered. Hunter was happy, the happiest he had been in a while. It had been too long since he could just sit down and laugh with someone like this without the other person thinking he was just some piece of drunk trash. He went to give Alan a pat on the back after a particularly funny story, but he realized that he couldn't move his arms anymore. The infection had spread. Not breaking his smile, and not saying anything to Alan about it to dampen the mood, he knew that he didn't have much time left. He was ready.

"...So, anyway," Alan chuckled. "My mother walks in, looks around, and asks 'Where is your brother?!' And I couldn't really think of anything on the spot like that, so I just told her the truth: that he had gone down to the brothel! Ohhh man, when he got home that night, I was almost convinced that Mom was going to just skin him alive right then and there, haha! You should have seen the look on his face, Hunter." Alan smirked, waiting for Hunter's response to the story. But he didn't hear anything. "Hunter?" Alan turned to look over at his friend.

Eyes closed, Hunter's head drooped down, staring at his lap. His hands lay limp at his side, and Alan could tell even under the cover of night that he wasn't breathing. Hunter was dead.

"God dammit..." Alan muttered to himself as tears once again started to pour down his face, blending in with the rain. The pang of guilt and grief twisted Alan's stomach into a knot and he felt sick. Suddenly, he realized that he was still holding Hunter's dagger in his hand. Vision blurred, he buried his face into Hunter's shoulder and sobbed for several minutes. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, Hunter." He repeated his apology over and over, but he was the only one there to hear it. He was alone.

The potion of regeneration had worked, and Alan's left arm and ribs were now almost completely healed. Taking his left arm out of the sling, he rested his hand on Hunter's shoulder. Using his right hand, he slowly placed the dagger's tip against the side of Hunter's temple.

"I'm sorry."

Using all of his strength, he thrust the dagger into the temple, breaking through the skull as the blade lodged itself into the brain. Alan felt the warmth of the blood as it shot out and covered his hands, and he could only be thankful that his vision was obscured by the darkness. Yanking the blade out, Hunter's corpse fell over on its side, and the possibility of it reanimating into a zombie was gone, just like Hunter wanted.

Standing up, Alan paced back and forth for a few seconds trying to calm himself down, but to no avail. He had lost one of the few friends that he had, and it was all his fault. Realizing that he was going to have an emotional breakdown if he didn't leave the area immediately, he pulled out Lana's compass and got ready to go. Before he left, however, he reached down into the muddy remains of the campfire, and pulled out Hunter's flask. He gently placed it on Hunter's chest, making sure to leave the cap off. A final goodbye to him.

Turning to leave, Alan felt numb. He felt numb as he followed the glowing redstone of the compass as it pointed its way to Hunter's Watch. He felt numb as he dodged several groups of zombies along the way. He felt numb as he explained what happened to Lana, Frederick, Daren, and the others when he arrived back in Hunter's Watch. He felt numb as he washed Hunter's blood off of his hands in the river. He felt numb when he went to bed that night and stared at the ceiling, wishing it would collapse in on him and kill him.

He felt numb.

Next Chapter: The Edgelands

A/N: Well, there you go. Chapter 11, "Unimaginable Loss." I either made a really good decision, or a really bad decision, but I'm sticking with it either way. (Like I have much of a choice, right?) I guess it's fitting that I took a bit of a long break after the last chapter, because the last chapter was the sort of halfway point for Book 1, so just consider that the "midseason finale" lol. As it stands now, Book 1 has 19 chapters, so we only have 8 more chapters to go before the Book 1 finale. Where does the time go, amirite?

Anyway, as always, thank you for reading. Now that I got some of my motivation back, I plan to pump out a few more chapters this summer while I can, so be on the lookout for those. If you have any criticism or critique, I'd love to hear it in the reviews, they really help me out a lot. Thank you all for your time.