AN: Sorry I haven't updated for a while! I've been busy with other stories and stuff. And I've been sick recently, as well as having a best friend in the hospital, so I really haven't had the time or energy to write more. I'm sorry! But hey, I'm writing now, so lets enjoy this!
~AP

Phil had been driving for hours. Dan had said that he heard most closer coastal towns were infested on the news, before the power all went down. They would have to go all the way to Scarborough, considering that had the most easy-to-access boats. And was the only place that wasn't reported to have them everywhere. The journey would only take four and a half hours in normal circumstances, but they had no idea where they had started, or how to get there. You didn't either, of course. It wasn't exactly the best situation to be in during the apocolypse.

But you hoped Phil knew where he was going. After all, Scarborough was in North Yorkshire. Wasn't exactly a hard place to get to. Mind you, considering the time, you'd have to find somewhere to stay the night when you did get there. Or at least somewhere to safely park.

No point thinking about that now. You had ages to go yet, and you were bored. Not that you were going to complain. Dan seemed to be stressing enough already, without you whining like a spoiled five-year-old. Most of the others were sleeping. It had been hours now. "Are you ok?" Dan asked, coming back to you and plopping down on the couch. The others were mostly sleeping, of course. Too drained.

"I'm fine." You said. Which generally, in your language, means 'I'm totally not fine.', but of course you wouldn't tell Dan that. He'd get more worried than he already was, which was a lot, considering he'd been pacing (and somehow not losing his balance) around the moving vehicle for all the time up until now.

It didn't seem to matter. Dan somehow figured it out. "No, you're not."
"OK, I was lying. I'm not OK, but it isn't the time or place to be talking about that." You stood and went to sit next to Phil in shotgun. There was actually a shotgun stationed next to that window. The person who owned this RV must've been very well prepared.

But not enough.

You feel Dan's worried gaze on the back of your seat and sigh. Before this that would've sent shivers down your spine.

You remembered the stage you crushed on the four boys fondly. In fact, somewhere in your heart, you knew you still did, however, you didn't mention it. It would make things terribly awkward. Besides, they were way older than you.

Actually, you couldn't quite remember how old you were properly. When you left you were twelve, you remember. But you couldn't...How long had it actually been? Time never occured to you. You could be, what, 18 by now and not have noticed. In fact, how could you even live without knowing how long you'd...

You walked and fought without knowing from Yorkshire to near London, not that there would be much left of either, but that would take about like, 3 days worth of walking without interuptions, and considering you'd stopped to eat, to fight, to rest, to sleep...it would've taken ages. You remember being at Cardiff at one point, which means for some reason you must've been zigzagging around the country.

For some reason.

Suddenly, the memory of the night you left hits you fast and hard.

You sigh and continue to stuff things into your backpack. You were quiet, swift and sneaky, and since it was the middle of the night, you were the only one awake. Cannibalism was rising, you knew. But of course, you and your friends had been on video games long enough to know what was attacking wasn't human.

It was undead.

Your Skype was on and quiet, but the orange symbol was flashing at the bottom, after you finished packing, throwing on your Doc Martin's, you sat down for the very last time at your computer. First you shut down your Facebook. You posted a quick 'I'm sorry for leaving you.' as your status and then deactivated the account. Your parents would be asking where you've gone and you couldn't let them find you.

Next was writing and reading devices such as Fanfiction. You sent quick apologies to you're friends, favouriters, daily reviewers and followers on there, and then blocked it.

Then was DeviantArt. You post an in depth journal entry you had saved and apologise again.

After that was Tumblr. You felt your heart beat loudly as you typed out the message. Tumblr had helped you with a lot of things and giving it up was hard. You hated leaving so heartlessly, leaving friends you'd made, followers you'd gained. But you knew you must.

Then finally, your Skype.

"Guys...I'm leaving now. I know you're hiding and in trouble, which is why you're on your phones, but I WILL find you. I promise."

You felt tears streaking down your face again. Dan was kneeling next to you and Phil was giving you worried glances. "Are you OK?" Phil asked as you pulled your knees to your chest. "I...Phil, I don't even know how old I am. I don't even know my age!" You sobbed, your head in your hands. "I had friends. I promised them I'd find them. They weren't there."

Dan pulled you towards him and engulfed you in a warm hug. "Oh, Katie. I'm so, so, so sorry."
"I broke the promise. I never even found their bodies!" You sobbed. Dan pulled back, and hesitated.
"It's alright, Katie. We've all broken promises because of this." He sent an involuntarily glance in Phil's direction, but only for a second. Then, his gaze and attention went back to you. "I'm sure they're very proud of you for surviving this long. They'll be in a better place now." His voice was soft, and comforting, even though something he'd remembered was obviously bothering him. You get a little snappy now. "A better place? You know exactly where they'll be, Dan."

They'd be devouring every living thing in their path like every other poor soul that wasn't lucky enough to survive. Dan looked hurt for a moment, but then his expression became angry. "Yes, you know what, I do know exactly where they'll be. You know why? Nearly all of my fucking friends are like that too. YOU AREN'T THE ONLY ONE WHO'S FUCKING SUFFERED THROUGH ALL OF THIS, KATIE! DON'T YOU GET THAT?!" He then stood, turned, and ran as fast as he possibly could into the tiny, built-in bathroom cubicle.

"I fucked up, I fucked up, I fucked up again, Oh god, I fucked up." You muttered to yourself repeatedly, beating your head with your fists, squeezing your eyes shut so as not to let out any more tears. "Hey," A quiet, comforting voice came from in front of you, the person catching your balled up fists in their hands. You looked up hesitantly. It's PJ. Seems he was woken up by the commotion with Dan. "None of that. Dan gets emotional sometimes, is all. It's not your fault."

"It's always my fault."

AN: There it is kids. Gets a bit emotional, a bit sad, but hey, what can you do, am I right? Sorry for not updating in forever. I was on hiatus, because when I started writing this, there was a lot going on. For instance, I now have a romantic partner! So that is taking up a lot of my time, as you'd guess. Aha, anyways, I hope you enjoyed this! Review if you want to!
~AP