Author's Note: Hey guys sorry it has been so long since I updated. Been so so busy with Uni and then I had to do a Professional Experience for my course too so I had no time for anything else but that until now, so yay I'm back, here is the latest chapter and I hope you all like it.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

The drive took less time than I remember and I wasn't afraid to say that the closer we drew to our destination, the more uneasy I felt. Mike and I didn't say much after our first little chat about the punch I threw at Finn; it was talked of in a way that reminded me of the gossip once said at school.It was after things went silent between us that my nerves grew and I could tell Mike was just as jumpy. This was a huge thing for us to be doing, we were risking our lives, but I knew it was the right thing from the moment it was mentioned. Tina wasn't just a friend to any of us. She was family, and this was the very least we could do for her. Especially since I just laid there and did nothing to help. If anything of this 'apocolypse' is going to stick with me, it's going to be this. Yes, I was there when we lost Mr Schue and Miss Pillsbury and I was the one that shot Mercedes, but this time it just felt different.

Mike pulled to a stop five hundred metres back from where the pileup of cars started. We have learnt a thing or two from past experiences, car engines can draw the undead to us just as fast as a gunshot can, and we weren't taking any chances this afternoon. I opened the door and jumped out and looked around, it was still quiet and no signs of life, alive or otherwise. I looked over at Mike and he was staring forward, I could tell what he was thinking and it was the same thing that was going through mine.

Will there be anything left of her at all? Was this all just a pointless mission and we were risking our lives? No we have to try, for Tina and if not for her, then for us, for a piece of mind.

I closed the front door behind me and opened the back door. I looked around for a second and then grabbed the bag I placed in there earlier. I flipped it open and pulled out a long sleeved shirt, jeans and my black leather jacket, the one that had the hood. I pulled off my shirt and threw the long sleeve shirt on, followed by my jacket. I then took off the shorts I was wearing and replaced them with the jeans. My hand went back into the bag retreating out with protective eye glasses and a bandana. It would be dark soon and sunglasses would not be helpful while trying to see in the dark.

We learned early on that when dealing with the undead you really need to try and not come into contact with the infection at all. Yes, bites and scratches will cause you to become infected, but getting their blood or saliva in your eyes and mouth can be just as bad. So now whenever we are going somewhere we know there are undead, or even suspect the infection, we make sure we're all well protected.

I looked over to Mike again and saw he was doing the same and I was, "Can you please pass me my boots?" I ask pointing to the pair of army boots near his bag.

"Sure can," he replied pushing them to across the roof to me with, his hands visibly shaking beneath them.

"Are you scared Mike?" I say taking them and then sit down to put them on.

"Yeah. I am. A little" he says, "It's just feeling like maybe this trip is for nothing, what if we don't find anything?"

I was feeling the same way but I wasn't planning on telling him that, "we need to stay positive," I reinforce, nodding to assure myself too, "There's got to be something, no matter how small."

He gave me a smile and a small nod and continued getting ready. I finished lacing up my boots and placed the sunglasses on top of my head and tied the bandana around my neck so I could pull it up if I needed it.

"Do you think we should take the guns?" I ask glancing at the gun bag nestled on the backseat floor.

Guns have always been an issue. They are too noisy and attract both the living and the undead. Instead we usually carry baseball bats or sharpened hand weapons, swords seemed to forever be a favourite. Mike's weapon of choice has always been two forearm length blades; he used to be choppy with them but nowadays he swerves in and out of combat like an assassin, as he would say, referencing the games he once played.

I stick with my trusty a baseball bat and a knife kept tightly at my side. I shove my hand back into my bag and pull a flashlight out, securing it to my belt; it was getting dark out far too fast and we didn't want to be caught somewhere when the sun finally did set. I threw Mike the spare and he did the same.

"You ready?" Mike asks as adds the last securing to his blades.

"As I'll ever be," I tell him grabbing the baseball bat out of the back.

"Ok then. Let's go," He nodded and we began the walk towards the cars.

Yes we were five hundred meters back from the cars but the walk felt like it took mere seconds and the sun made its ever-rapid decent towards the ground as we went. I doubt we will be home tonight. It's been months since I was this nervous. We always had a plan, we knew what roles we had to play, we got in, we got out and that was that. We stayed focused and nothing went wrong. Usually. Well, since we found Rachel everything seems to be going wrong. We haven't been planning properly, we just go and it's not good, it's dangerous and it can lead to something like this happening. Both Mike and I knew that this was a bad idea, however it was because of the groups carelessness that Tina ended up like she did, but after today no more just running into something blind with no plan.

I looked over at Mike as we walked; he was wearing a blank expression so I didn't bother trying to ask any questions. Instead I turn my head back to the front.

"You alright Quinn?" he asked, rather unsure of the question himself.

"Yeah. I'm fine" I reply with a small nod of the head and a slight shrug.

He looked at me with his 'I know something is up, and I will get it out of you one way or another'look. He can do this with everyone, it's kind of creepy in a way but also very comforting.

"I really am fine," I tell him, adding a fake smile before turning sombre again "I'm just wondering if this wouldn't have happened if we had planned better. You know, like we used to."

"I don't think planning this out better would have stopped Tina from leaving where she was hiding while there was a mass of infected heading her way. Something must have really spooked her to make her leave her hiding spot and try and run for help," his resolve was strong, and his determined face told me more than his words ever could. He honestly thought Tina had seen something we all missed. I nodded, he needed this - that hope - to hold onto.

"Yeah. That must have been the reason," was all I could manage to get out. I didn't know what else to say. I couldn't comfort him on a theory I wasn't sure was even true. For all we know she may have gotten scared and thought she could make it back to us. She broke protocol and ended up paying the price for it. I know I seem heartless; I cared for Tina as much as the next member, but if she had stayed where she was, she'd probably still be alive.

"What will we do if the same group comes though again?" Mike questioned, glancing into an empty straggler car window "or even another?"

"We hide," I tell him, "we wouldn't make it back to the car and we can't take them all on. The only thing we can do is hide… and stay there."

I didn't know if I should have said the last bit but I did. It didn't seem to effect Mike at all or he was just good at hiding his emotions.

"You're right," he nodded, "we hide."

"And not pull any heroic shit," I smile nudging him in the side.

"Hey speak for yourself 'Miss I saved Rachel Berry'," he laughed nudging me back.

I just gave him a small laugh and a blushing grin back. Inside the comment hurt though; it hit too close to home. I didn't need to be distracted by Berry and my feelings for her. She made her choice and I can't change her mind so I need to keep her out of mine.

"Ok. Protective gear on," Mike said as we reached the start of the bank-up, "There may not be anything here, but we can never be too careful."

I pulled the bandana over my nose and mouth then the glasses over my eyes. "Done," I tell him, my voice muffled through the fabric, "ready?"

"Yeah I'm ready," he nodded and lead the way.

I took a deep breath and followed him in. We needed to stay close and quiet because it was getting dark and if we lost each other it would be a pain to find one another again. No loud noises and no light either unless truly necessary because both will draw the infected to us and that was something we could both live without seeing tonight. In and out with no trouble was the plan. We walked slow, stopping every so often to listen to our surroundings in case something was following us. Nothing ever was. It was quiet… too quiet for my liking. Nothing good ever came from too quiet. There weren't even any crickets chirping. We needed to keep on our toes and stay alert.

I was beginning to feel nervous again, sweat trickled down my neck. It was only since I found Rachel that I had started to feel things again. It had been such a long time since I ever considered that I might be nervous or sad or angry; and so worried about everything. I had learned to block most of that out. A quivering hand from nerves meant the difference between killing an infected or missing the shot and them killing you.

We walked, and walked… and walked, neither of us saying a word. One; because we needed to be on full alert, and two; I just don't think we had anything to say. What was there to say? "I'm sorry that this happened." "I wish it didn't happen." "I know it's hard." We have all heard it before and it doesn't make it any better or easier… and it sure as hell doesn't help. We have already lost so many and the constant repeating drone of apologising grated on us. We are all feeling the same thing; they were all family, saying the same things everyone else was saying seemed useless. For a long time we just lost people. Until we found Rachel. She was the first person we were able to bring into our group rather than see them disappear. I think it created some hope in people, a sign that things might be looking up. Then we lost Tina, and all our spirits dropped again.

The sun had fallen behind the mountains, darkness was upon us and it felt like we had been walking for hours. Had we walked too far? Surely we weren't this far in when the attack happened… were we?

"Mike," I whispered.

I heard him stop in front of me and I quickly had to stop so I wouldn't walk into him. He turned and grabbed my arm.

"Are you okay?" he asked in a hushed voice, "did you hear something?"

"No I'm fine," I told him, "It just feels like we have gone too far."

"I don't think so," he replied still holding onto my arm, "I remember seeing that bus up ahead, I think it was the one Santana was standing on. So if I', right Tina will be just…."

He paused. My eyes widened trying to see in the dark and strained my hearing trying to see if something was there. There wasn't. I didn't know why he stopped, but I was starting to panic. There was so much silence encroaching on us, my ragged breathing the only thing signalling that we were still alive.

I shook his hand that had my arm in a deathgrip, "Mike, what's wrong?"

I peered around him, I couldn't see anything. Even though my eyes had adjusted it was still very, very dark.

"Mike," I say again, shaking him out of his state.

"Sorry," he replied, "I'm just scared, what if we find something neither of us want to see?"

"It will be ok," I said trying to sound as confident as I could, my shaking hand still gripped tightly on his arm.

He moved away slightly before coming back in, taking my hand in a comforting way, nodding resolutely. With a quick squeeze back we began walking again, tucked close in against each other. We walked slowly towards the mini bus, my heart threatening to pound right from my chest. Our speed didn't quicken as we reached the mini bus, if anything it slowed. When we reached the front of the bus we stopped.

I could see the car where Rachel and I were once hiding, the bodies still lying next to the car where we propped them up. I swallowed hard and turned slightly and saw the place where Tina had fallen. My breath caught as all the memories came flooding back. The look of horror in her eyes as she fell and couldn't get back up. The heart wrenching scream that erupted from her throat as the infected sunk their teeth into her. Rachel's shakes and sobs next to me. The scared and worried look in her eyes, her hands griping me ever so tight. The feel of her lips against mine. How soft they were and how perfectly they fitted with mine.

My heart gave a little jump causing butterflies to erupt in my stomach. I should not be thinking of Rachel. Now is not the time. I need to focus and when I'm thinking about her that isn't possible; she takes up my every thought.

Snap out of it Quinn I told to myself. I pushed Rachel to the back of my mind and gave Mike's hand a nudge. We both slowly walked forward to where Tina fell. I could feel the tears pricking at the corner of my eyes. Mike knelt down and put his hand on the ground where she fell. From his belt he pulled a flashlight and turned it on.

The whole area was a bloody mess. There wasn't much left of Tina. A finger here, a clump of hair there. My heart was aching for Mike. I couldn't imagine losing Rachel like that. Yes I lost her to Finn but I couldn't imagine her not existing anymore. I felt a tear escape from my eyes but quickly shook it away before Mike could see.

Mike was being very strong. He wasn't crying and or breaking down like he did after it happened. He suddenly stood up and I saw something glistening when it caught the light in his hand. He turned to me and held out his hand. Sitting on his palm was broken necklace with a small love heart pendant. It took all my strength not to cry.

"I gave this to her just before we graduated," he spoke softly, "So when I graduated she would always have my heart with her."

I felt another tear escape my eyes. DON'T CRY QUINNFABRAY! "It's beautiful," I choked out just above a whisper.

He nodded and then placed it in his pocket. "There's not much here," he told me, "I want to make a cross for her and leave it here. I have her necklace; it is something of hers that I can keep close."

"Ok," I replied sniffling another sob away, "let's find something to make the cross then. We need wood or metal, flat or round. And maybe some rope."

"Yeah," he agreed, "but we stay together." I nodded. I couldn't have agreed more.

It didn't take us long at all to find something to use. There was a small truck that was carrying thick metal pipes. They were a bit longer than we needed but it worked just the same. We found rope in a nearby car. I held the flash light while Mike tied the pipes together and then signed 'Tina Cohen Chang' into them with a marker.

We walked back and placed the cross against a car near where she fell. Then we both stood there and just looked at it. I felt like I should say something but nothing was coming out. What can I say? "Tina you had a good life." She spent it all in school and then ended in a zombie apocalypse. She barely lived at all. "You were an amazing person." Yeah I could say that but everyone including her knew that. She had an amazing voice and an awesome personality and after the planet became infected she was one amazing person then too.

I looked over at Mike and he was still just staring at the cross. I DID need to say something, but I couldn't think of anything for the life of me. So I settled for the simplest of things. "You will be greatly missed by everyone Tina," I said quietly, "I hope you are in a better place."

Mike let out a sob and nodded, "I love you Tina." He placed his hand on the cross and then stood up. He looked over at me with tear filled eyes, his goggles propped up on his forehead, and said "Thank you for coming with me and thank you for saying those things." I pulled him in for a hug feeling the tears in my eyes and replied "anytime my friend."

As we broke the hug I felt something whiz past my head and heard it clank as it lodged into the car behind me. We both ducked into defensive positions. I swung around madly trying to find whatever it was and then I saw it. A knife stuck haphazardly out of a car door.

"What in the hell...?" was all that I managed to say before another one raced between Mike and I, lodging itself in the same car.

We dived behind the minibus, glancing around the corner. "Who's there!?" Mike called out into the darkness.

Predictably there was no answer.

"ASSHOLES!" I yelled out, my hand around tightening around the bat.

Mike grabbed my arm and whispered, "Maybe calling out isn't a great idea. We don't know how many of them there are, or where they are. I think we should just go back to the car as quickly as we can." I agreed and we began to move in the direction of the car, staying as low as possible.

BANG!

"AHHH FUCK!" I screamed gripping my upper arm, scampering forward in a hop-kind of step.

"Quinn!" Mike called running over, pulling me up and behind a car, quickly shining his flashlight on the wound, "Let me look."

I pulled my hand away and could see the blood on it, red, warm and sticky. My heart racing a thousand miles a minute. I'd been shot.

"It's not bad," he told me, "it just grazed your arm." He pulled the bandana from around his neck and tied it around my arm, a makeshift tourniquet. "We need to keep moving, okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," I replied, "let's just get out of here."

We began to move at a run this time. Heads still ducked as low as possible. Whatever idiot was chasing us had likely alerted the undead to our presence. Gunshots were such a bad idea. And there was no way we were sticking around when the hoard decided to make an appearance. The throbbing burning pain in my arm trickled down my side as we ran.

BANG! BANG!

Bullets flew past us and lodged themselves into surrounding cars. We weaved in out of the traffic, praying that it put them off our trail but I could hear their footsteps gaining on us all the same. As I ran I grabbed the pistol from my thigh, a risky move I wouldn't have used otherwise. Guns were bad. I fired blindly back into the dark. Mike ducking his head.

"Heads down!" we heard one of them call, "Quick get them!"

We ran even faster. As fast as our legs would take us but we could still hear them behind us and the blazing gunshots rang in our ears. It was dark and we couldn't see where we were running. Which was the sole reason why we didn't see a massive group of undead until we were practically on top of them.

"FUCK!" yelled Mike, skidding to a halt and dragging me back the way we had come, "Go go! I'd rather deal with these assholes than the undead! RUN!"

He didn't have to tell me twice. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, I'd always take the rock.

We kept running back the way we came, footsteps all around us; undead and assailants all at once. Our attackers obviously decided a retreat was a better option too. Their guns still rang off loudly; were these people stupid? Did they want to die?

A truck had rolled off the road and I pushed Mike towards it, off the beaten trail was a far better idea right now. Trees suddenly surrounded us, choking us and grabbing at every limb. I wanted to scream but tightened my jaw. Reaching out I stopped Mike to a slower pace, glancing over my shoulder to the pile up of cars. The moans of the undead seemed miles away.

"What the hell is going on?" I panted, my voice frantic and terrified.

"How the hell am I supposed to know?" he replied, throwing a hand back towards the rubble, "Who the fuck were the people shooting at us?"

And as if they were waiting for an invitation, men and women suddenly leapt from the trees straight at us. I was barely able to draw my knife before I was knocked to the ground, the air leaving my lungs in an instant. Immediately my eyes were drawn to Mike as he attempted to take two of the bigger attackers on.

Swinging back to my assailant as he stood over me, his face closing in, a leapt forward, slamming forward and knocking my head into his nose. He instantly reared up in pain, clutching at his bleeding face. I felt around the ground for my knife, how in the hell it had been knocked that far away was beyond me. And then I saw my attacker, shaking his head free of the pain, the knife tucked securely in his own fist.

I stumbled backwards, praying I could still do proper hand-to-hand fighting. The first few swings were easy to dodge, but he read my moves and in mere moments a searing hot pain flew through my cheek, making my eyes water and cloud my vision. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, feeling the sticky bloody mess on my cheek as I went.

I reached for my gun again, but just before I could get a shot off I felt the mass of the attacker ram into me. The bullet hissed straight off into the air. In a daze of gunshot fire and beatings, I saw Mike hunched over and as I struggled to make my way to him I heard a helpless cry erupt from my friend's mouth before he finally slumped to the ground.

"NO!" I screamed as I tried to run towards him, quickly held back by his two attackers, my vision instantly blurred in terror, "Let me go!" I both demanded and cried, struggling against their invading hands.

Footsteps behind and a body pressed flush against my back, "You will pay for this Fabray," he told me in a sickly sweet familiar voice. It was the last thing I saw or heard before the knife handle came down onto my head with a crunch.