Author's Note: Ok, so I'm finally back! I wanted to update a lot sooner but my life has been insane the last few weeks. I'm still going to grad school and working then last weekend I went to New York to visit my sister and just got out before all the storm craziness. One of my classes ended Friday, so hopefully I'll be able to update more regularly now. Fingers crossed! Enjoy and let me know what you think.

The sky was the kind of cloudless, bright blue that really required sunglasses but always left Cassandra squinting up happily, eager to observe the unshielded beauty even if she could only do it through the slits between her eyelids. The well-manicured grass surrounding the river was a green right out of the crayon box, and whether its beauty was aided by earth killing chemicals or not the effect was still breathtaking. The breeze was perfect, the water calm, the energy from the crowd practically buzzing along each and every one of Cassandra's nerves leaving her with a pleasantly antsy feeling, in control and yet giddy enough to turn cartwheels. A quick glance confirmed that not only her mother but her father too was in place to watch her race. Her father was present for the final crew race of the season not only through his traditional good luck phone call but physically, and if he was currently on his cell phone at least he was there.

Then it was time and Cassandra was taking her place inside the boat with her teammates, their unspoken energy and unity leaving no doubt in her mind about what would happen next. The signal comes and then they're moving, gliding so seemingly effortlessly across the water that it hardly appears as though they're rowing at all. It feels more like flying. Cassandra's muscles feel no pain despite their exertion and she revels in the fact that her body is at its peak doing exactly what it has been trained to do. Then it's over and there is cheering and someone is hugging her and she doesn't know who but her father has hung up his cell phone and he's smiling and this, this right here is the best feeling in the world.

Cassandra's foot connected hard with a tree root and she stumbled, almost tumbling to the ground with Emma's extra weight pulling her ruthlessly in that direction. She managed to catch herself but her body protested loudly at the effort. Emma whimpered and Cassandra almost joined her as she forced her weak right leg to take her weight and propel her forward.

She's been running for at least a couple of hours, the zombies ambling after them, making far better progress than she was weaving between the trees. Her only thought as she forced her body to continue was that she needed to head up. Zombies didn't get tired like she did but the increasingly steep landscape would surely slow them down a little. They did seem to be falling behind slightly, probably due to the unstable ground beneath their feet. In fact a few of them seemed to have lost interest and wandered away, possibly after animals that proved to be less work. There only looked to be two left, following the girls with unrelenting dedication. But the increasing altitude was also doing no favors to Cassandra's burning lungs or throbbing muscles. She had no idea how she'd been able to keep going for as long as she had other than the fact that pure primal terror wouldn't let her stop, not until her body had absolutely nothing left and she stopped for good.

There was a time when her body had been a fine tuned machine, muscular arms, a heart built for cardio, endurance to match the best of them. High school was a long time ago though, nearly six years, and she'd never taken a beating before competing in a crew race. Nor had the consequence of losing a race ever before meant being eaten alive by the undead. And some people said things never changed…

Cassandra could feel the pain in her limbs starting to fade out, leaving behind a blissful sort of numbness that was an intense relief until she realized it wasn't exactly easy to run and navigate a less than even landscape when you couldn't feel your legs. She felt dizzy and disconnected from her body, and dots were beginning to swim in front of her vision.

No.

Not now.

Not after all this.

I'm sorry, Emma.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

Cassandra stumbled again, one hand struggling to maintain her grip on Emma, the other groping against the rough bark of a tree to keep her from hitting the ground. Cassandra let her back rest against the tree for a moment, observing in an almost detached manner how near the zombies were to catching up to them. She pulled a silently protesting Emma from around her neck and placed the girl on the ground. Pushing her with what little strength she had left in the direction that the ground continued to climb. Up.

She's not tired yet.

Maybe she can make it.

At least a little longer…

"I need you to run, Emma," Cassandra murmured, surprising herself with how broken and quiet her voice came out. "Just keep going up, ok, Emma? Just keep going up."

To her surprise the girl seemed to understand her words and took a few stumbling steps on her shaky little legs in the direction that Cassandra was pointing. With one look back at the older girl she began to run and Cassandra closed her eyes with relief.

She was so tired, was so, so tired that she couldn't even muster up much fear or despair at the prospect of losing her life in a few precious moments. She knew she had wanted to live, had wanted to live so badly not that long ago. She could only feel it vaguely now, from a distance, as if it was her wish for a pony at the age of 5. Sure it would be nice, but it was ridiculous, a fairy tale and if it didn't come true, well that would be alright. It would have to be.

She slumped further against the tree, allowing it to take all of her weight as she slid down to the ground. She kept her eyes closed even as she heard the moans and shuffling footsteps of the zombies approaching her. She couldn't see them this way. She didn't want to see them.

Instead she pictured a sky so blue that it hurt to look at it. Grass so green that it looked like it came straight out of a crayon box. Water, and oars, and her father's smile.

She can feel her own lips twisting upwards into what she thinks must have been her own attempt at a smile when suddenly her peace is interrupted by a crushing sound that didn't belong anywhere near the world of her dreams.

"Whoa, you don't look so good," a male voice came from just above her and Cassandra thought she should probably open her eyes and see if he was really there.

She managed to get her eyes open just a crack and through a haze of streaky vision she was able to make out the distorted face of a young Asian guy, probably a year or two younger than her, with a bloody baseball bat dangling loosely from one hand.

"You should talk," She mumbled, her voice sounding completely unfamiliar to herself at this point. "You're the one who looks all…wobbly."

She let her eyes slide closed again even as she felt arms sliding under her neck and knees and the comforting solidness of the ground disappearing from underneath her.

After that there was nothing, just the less than gentle swaying that surrounded her body and the memories of a world before zombies that she drifted in and out of until at last she was on solid ground again.

There were a chorus of voices around her, none of them familiar, all of them grating.

"Emma?" She managed to choke out, her voice so soft and the background noise so deafening she wasn't sure if anyone could possibly have heard her at all. "Emma?"

She gathered all of her remaining strength and forced her eyes to open slightly, not sure if she was really awake or not when the familiar face of her mystery man swam into view.

"You robbed me," She muttered, her eyes slowly sliding closed again.

"Yeah, and you look like shit," He said, his squinting eyes the last thing she saw before she sank into total, heavenly oblivion.