For some reason it wasn't showing that this chapter was posted so hopefully it works this time.


Now

Clarissa Fray had no doubt in her mind she was headed for hell. She had done whatever it took to survive. Stuff that made her glad her brother wasn't around to see what she had become. Adapting to the new world had been hard at first. It had gotten easier with time as her morals could be described only in various shades of grey. Now, it was a second nature.

So why was it, as she tore through the forest, that she had begun to feel guilty? It was an emotion she hadn't expressed in a long time. Perhaps because the only people she had associated with as of late had been dead and trying to eat her.

Jace's infuriatingly optimistic personality had been refreshing. Naive, but refreshing nonetheless. She had to admit that her time spent with him had been among the few fond memories she had collected since the apocalypse's beginning. There was just no way she could have stayed. It would be complicated and painful. He was different than most survivors. That made him dangerous. Or worse, living on borrowed time. She had liked him. In a post apocalyptic world, that was just something she couldn't afford.

So she ran. She continued to run even as twigs snapped against her skin and thorns tugged at her hair. The only sound in the world was the rough padding of her feet against the moist earth.

That was the world she knew. You fight and you survive and then you die. She had been lucky so far. Sometimes it became hard to remember the zombies she fought had been just like her once. What had been their downfall? Were they not strong enough? Were they not smart enough? Could it really be determined as anything other than having a bad day? Clary refused to find out. She kept running, knowing the roaring in he lungs and the burning in her legs was a sign she was still alive.

"Please, my brother is sick. We just need the medicine!"

Clary paused, her eyes growing wide at the sound of another voice. It was young and desperate—possibly belonging to a child. Her mind was calculating the possibilities with the precision of a machine. If need be, she could easily overpower the child. Clary's presence went unnoticed as she slowly shifted closer.

Sloppy, Clary noted, moving into a crouching position behind a bush. From her perch she could see a boy maybe around ten. He was standing opposite from a group of the oldest people Clary had come across since zombies started eating people. It was a strange sort of juxtaposition, she realized, watching the youngest and the oldest in a Westside Story-esque face off. Most children and elderly were dead.

"I don't know, Hodge. After what we went through to get this stuff…after what happened to Jem?" The woman spoke in what Clary assumed was supposed to be a hushed voice to the man on her right. He gazed at the little girl from behind his cracked glasses.

"Please. He's really sick," he accentuated, big blue eyes sparkling. He was surprisingly clean.

"Is he bit?" The man on the left asked sharply. He was the closest to the little boy in height, due to his hunched back. He shook his head quickly, sending his glasses to fall askew upon his nose..

"Well—" The leaves shifted to Clary's left. Her hand immediately clutched the spot in her boot where she kept Mr. Pointy, but grasped air. She cursed under her breath, remembering she had left her stake behind at Jace's camp. As if it were a consolation for her leaving and stealing his stuff.

A zombie pinned beneath a log had spotted her. She exhaled in relief. She could handle a trapped zombie without her weapon of choice easily. It's arms stretched out pathetically, clawing at thin air. Clary rolled her eyes. Some zombies were just so dumb.

Before the group could move to investigate the noise, she cautiously shifted her weight towards the flailing zombie. She had picked up a good sized rock from the forest floor and now gripped it tightly. When she was a safe distance away, Clary quickly swung the blunt force down into the zombie's soft skull. Three times, for good measure. It would have been quicker with Mr. Pointy, but the rock got its job done. The squelching of the brain as it burst and popped its juices over her hands was something Clary would never get used to. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. The smell positively sucked.

"He's sick. I already lost my parents. I can't lose him too!" The boy sobbed, holding his face in his hands. Clary's attention had turned back to the scene before her.

"He's just a little boy," the elderly woman had once again turned to the man beside her. Clary noticed the boy's attention was beyond the group. Unnoticed by the trio, a girl around Clary's age slipped into the clearing. Her eyes were trained on the trio's supplies which resided on the ground behind them.

"Holy shit," Clary breathed. She now understood what was happening. Despite her best intuition, she found herself jumping to her feet. All eyes—and weapons—were on her. The girl froze.

"They're robbing you. Just thought you should know. His perfectly healthy sister is about to grab your supplies."

The little boy gaped and the girl let out a squeak as the trio rounded on them. Clary couldn't explain why she felt the need to prevent a robbery after just committing one herself. She liked to think that maybe even after everything she did, there was a conscious that throbbed inside of her, however weakly. Even in the zombie apocalypse. there was no excuse to rob a trio of old people.

"What did you do?" The girl screeched at Clary. The boy accompanying her had taken off into the woods. Clary shrugged, choosing to walk away with her own (stolen) supplies in hand. She had dealt with too many humans in one day. Her social skills (which sucked to begin with) were embarrassingly subpar.

It wasn't any of her business what happened to the two. All she could do was what she had done so far. Keep on walking and focusing on how to survive the next day. If she did that she could—

Suddenly she was flying. And screaming. A little bit of both as the security of the forest floor vanished. Her surroundings were closing in on themselves. Tighter and tighter.

Clary felt her chest constrict as she struggled to find security. She was enclosed in a bag—no, a net—about ten feet above the ground. In her surprise, her supplies had fallen to the ground beneath her.

She was stuck.

"Shit!" She screeched, pounding her fists into the ropes that contained her. Her palms shook the enclosure furiously.

"Thank you, dear. Without your help we'd be in a very tough spot," the voice of the elderly woman caught Clary's attention. How long had the trio been standing there?

"Uh, yeah. Don't mention it," Clary replied shakily, "Wait, actually I take that back. Do mention it. Is there any way you can let me down from this trap? The little con artists must have set it up."

"Oh, no. That's our trap," The stout man spoke proudly, puffing his chest out.

"That's great! That means you can get me down!" Clary enthused. Maybe her day was about to start looking up after all. The trio glanced at one another in a conspiratory manner.

"Actually, we can't. Sorry sweetheart, but I think we're just going to take your stuff," the woman apologized. Her two cohorts had begun to gather her belongings. Clary's jaw dropped.

"But I saved you!" She insisted, fighting even harder against her restraints.

"Oh and we really appreciate that. Really, we do. But it's a tough world out there. We just have to do what we can to survive. You understand, don't you?"

Boy, did she ever. But the damn geezer didn't have to sound so patronizing.

"No! Get your dirty wrinkles off my stuff you hag!" Clary threw her body weight violently against the net. The old bitch looked offended. The three cast her a dirty look before leaving. At the last moment, the stout man took out a case of something and poured it over the grass. Clary couldn't get a good look at it, but judging by the rotten toad's dirty expression, it wasn't very nice.

No. Freaking. Way.

No longer did she care that she was in a zombie infested wasteland. She began to scream. Boy, did she scream. Screamed and punched and clawed and…

The sound of laughter echoed into Clary's eardrums.

Great, she mused bitterly, more people. And not just any people.

"Well, well, well, you're very high and mighty these days, aren't you?" Taunted the young boy. Clary groaned. Little kid taunting was bad. Little kid humor was worse.

"They stole our stuff too you know," The girl pointed out haughtily, one hand placed upon the curve of her hip. "We were trying to get back what was ours. That is, until someone messed it up."

"Look, I'm sorry," Clary sighed. "I really am. I thought I was helping. I know you two probably hate me, but it's going to be dark soon. I need to get down from here pronto. Any chance you could help me out?"

She looked to the two desperately. They glanced back and forth at one another, seeming to communicate mentally. After a long pause, the girl nodded.

"We don't have any weapons to cut the rope with," she gestured to herself and her brother, "but we saw another campfire nearby. We'll go get them and come back for you."

It was like irony was kicking her butt today. She knew what camp they were talking about. She couldn't imagine what Jace would do to her once he found her.

"Wait, no!" She cried, but the two had already run off. She hadn't felt so helpless in a long time. The only thing that could make her day worse was—

A low groaning noise came from below her. Then another and another. Zombies. Lots and lots of zombies.

Well, shit.


Jace hadn't always traveled alone. The world was already dying. It didn't seem to make sense to seclude himself from what was left of it. From the very beginning of the apocalypse he had found himself jumping from group to group. Most groups from the beginning, back when people had hope someone was coming to save them, hadn't lasted very long. There was one group he had been apart of that he had stayed with the longest. It was large—almost like a community of people. It had made it easy to pretend the world was the same. It hadn't taken him long to become attached, but he hadn't been able to stay. Not after what had happened.

Since his departure, he had managed to last on his own. It was lonely and quiet, but it was safer than he had been. He had even managed to stay camped in more or less the same place without being found. Then he met Clary.

She was human, that was for sure. Maybe a little too human. Her numerous flaws reeked of humanity. Yet, she acted so familiar. That had intrigued him, amongst other things.

"How do you know I won't leave?" She had asked. He could tell she had been alone much longer than he had. She possessed all the tell tale signs.

"You won't." He had been so sure of himself. "You may have survived this world by closing yourself off, but I've found the only way to survive is to never stop believing in a person's humanity. The day I refuse to trust will be the day they win."

He had been so sure he had gotten through to her. But she had left.

He would find her. Jace was sure of it as he skillfully packed up what was left of his camp. He would find her, he would get back his supplies, and then…

Jace wasn't too sure what he planned to do next. Keep running? Keep hiding? Living in a zombie apocalypse hadn't left him too many options when it came to recreational enjoyment. Especially not when his life was always at risk. Finding Clary wouldn't have been as big of a deal if she hadn't showed up, acting so damn familiar, and then stolen the only thing that had kept him safe from those out for his blood.

There was no question about it. Her stake—Mr. Pointy—burned his palm as he set off in his trek through the woods. If he didn't find her, they would find him. He wasn't prepared to allow the first human he had encountered since he had been on his own darken his own reflection on what was left of humanity. Especially not when she'd acted so much like her. This was his second chance. He wasn't going to mess it up.

But before he could do anything, he would have to find her through the vast forest crawling with lame brains. Which brought him to the present, as he ducked under overlong branches and quietly stomped across bloodstained leaves. He had been walking for what felt like hours and while he had come across the tracks of wandering lame brains, there were none to be found. Strange, he thought, where could they all have gathered to? Especially when it would be dark soon.

"Hey! Hey you!" A tinny voice, childish in pitch, distracted him from his ponderings. He looked up to see a boy and a girl, both similar in appearance, rushing towards him. He observed the two with brazen curiosity, paying particular attention to the small boy. It was rare to see kids anymore. At least, the living ones.

"Please," the boy with messy black hair panted. "We need your help."

Jace rose an eyebrow in question. The girl, who Jace noted was strangely wearing heels, stepped in for her brother.

"There's a girl—kinda annoying—that's trapped in a net. We can't get her down and it's going to be dark soon. We told her we would get help."

Jace was now highly intrigued. How many girls were there to be found in these parts of the woods? Could it be that he had found her?

"By the way, you wouldn't happen to have any medicine, would you?" Jace blinked at the girl's insistent question as she stared up at him with big, brown, hopeful eyes. Slowly, he shook his head in response.

"Not anymore. It was packed with some supplies a girl stole from me that I'm trying to get back," he answered with the barest hint of a determined smile upon his lips. The girl jumped into action, tugging his hand along through the dense forest. The boy staggered behind, moving slower than his much more enthusiastic sister.

"I'm Isabelle, by the way," she chimed proudly. "That's Max. It's been just the two of us for about a week now."

Jace had enough sense to not ask what had happened to make them alone. In a world where the mortality rate was at an all time high, the past brought pain for everyone.

Suddenly, Jace heard a low growl carrying through the trees. He put a hand on the girl—Isabelle's— shoulder and drew her back. The moaning continued, magnifying with each breath.

"So this is where they're all going," Jace spoke in a hush. "We're going to have to go a different way to get around that clearing. They all seem to be circling that area, which will give us an opportunity to get her down in time."

"But—"

Max didn't have to finish. Over the sounds of moaning came the equally distinct cursing and brash yelling that belonged to a human. Clary.

Finding her had just become infinitely more complicated. No longer was it a matter of getting her down. Somehow they would need to face off against a horde of zombies and get her down with only a gun and a stake in terms of weapons.

Was one girl worth it? One girl that had done nothing but steal his supplies? Most survivors of the apocalypse would have allowed her a cruel death for her actions. But that was just it, wasn't it? Most survivors acted out of survival over morality. Jace would rather die than become a survivor that could only be told apart from the lame brains by the beat of his pulse. He would save her, he would get his stuff back, and he would never let her live this down. But first…

"We need a plan," he murmured, still unsure about allowing a kid that couldn't be above the age of ten and a girl who looked like she had walked out of a prada store into a battle with a horde of lame brains. Unfortunately it didn't seem like he had many other options.

"Like what? Don't get eaten?" Max muttered, nervously scratching his shoulder. Jace rolled his eyes and slowly inched closer to the clearing. There must have been around twenty lame brains and with all the noise they were causing there was bound to be more. Jace pulled out his gun.

"Find some weapons. Rocks, remnants, anything that's sharp and hard enough to penetrate the skull. Our best bet is to get the herd to disperse. Once you two find weapons we're going to form a triangle around the clearing and make enough noise to grab their attention. Then we pick them off. Sound good?"

The two nodded fiercely and scoured the earth floor. Jace moved behind a section of trees that gave him a good view of the clearing and the siblings. Clary was thrashing around in a makeshift net about ten feet off the ground shooting off a storm of nasty expletives. Lame brains were in a massive heap below, attempting to claw at her.

He sighed, silently wondering what he had gotten himself into as he shot his gun into the air. It let out a loud bang, drawing the attention of both the lame brains and Clary. Her eyes landed on him in horror, leaving her lips parted in a gaping o. He merely smirked at her and turned to face the crowd now shifting towards him. From her position, Isabelle screamed with a grin upon her delicate face. Some lame brains turned while others continued to progress towards Jace. He steeled himself, gun in hand. Max hollered at the top of his lungs, thinning out the lame brains more so. Some remained underneath Clary.

Making sure there was enough empty space behind him in case he needed to retreat, Jace narrowed his eyes and quickly shot the front line in the heads. As they came closer, Jace continued to shoot without hesitation. It was a normal repetition he had forced himself to become accustomed to.

Breathe in, breathe out, aim, pull the trigger, repeat, live. A break in the pattern meant death. That wasn't an option. Not yet.

The growling was growing louder. From the corner of his eye he could see more lame brains from the outskirts of the woods swarming to the clearing. With every corpse he killed, three more appeared from the woods.

Bang. The last lame brain's blood splattered across his face. For just a moment, he turned his back on the clearing to observe the approaching dead.

That was when he heard the scream. Jace spun around quickly just in time to see the hungry lame brains managing to reach the bottom of the net holding Clary in safety. The combined weight tore the bottom, sending Clary falling into the hungry crowd.

"No," Jace breathed. A new pressure clawing into him held him from rushing to her aid. Without struggle, Jace threw the lame brain off of his back and shot it in the head before it could stagger towards him once more. The decomposing body thumped to the ground in a bloodied heap, giving Jace an opening to enter the clearing.

The herd blocked Jace from his line of vision. He heard another scream. All his anger toward the girl dissipated in the heat of battle. Now all he felt was raw fear. Could it be already too late? Could she already be a meal? Or worse?

Jace pulled out his gun and began taking out the crowd. There were maybe ten lame brains clawing for Clary. It was a large number for anyone to take on alone and survive. Was Clary enough? He hadn't heard her voice in a while. Jace continued to shoot, lowering the number. 8…7…6…5…

There she was. The crowd had thinned enough that Jace was able to see a very pissed off redhead kicking away a rather persistent lame brain. Her gaze fell upon Jace.

"Well are you gonna stand there or are you gonna—"

He shot the undead attacking her before she could finish. Jace smirked and she let out a huff before rolling out of the crowd and managing to get to her feet. She faced the remaining lame brains with a stony glare, despite having no weapon in hand.

"Catch." From his belt loop, he pulled out Clary's stake, Mr. Pointy, and tossed it to her. She caught it gracefully with the barest hint of a grin on her face. The two zombies rushing towards her were disposed of with a quick jab. Gun in hand, Jace shot the last three with ease.

"Fancy shooting you got there," she muttered. The zombies in the clearing had been taken care of, leaving the two panting side by side. They awaited the incoming lame brains.

"Just giving you more of an excuse to check me out, I suppose," he replied smarmily. She rolled her eyes and stabbed an incoming lame brain. They didn't have time to wince at the squelching sound it created, instead facing off against two more.

"Why are there so many?" He shouted to her above the noise of the angry lurkers and gun shots. She took a moment to answer, due to being in the middle of stabbing a lame brain with a strong arcing movement.

"The damn old bastards that trapped me in that net. Before leaving one of them poured something on the ground so they had more time to get away. It was probably blood," Clary growled. Now Jace could see the large crimson stain matting the earth. Whoever it was that the redhead had run into, they were smart. Every survivor knew that lame brains were attracted to the smell of blood. Some were even able to track humans for miles if they smelt or tasted enough of a person's blood. Just one of the many dangers the apocalypse had brought them.

"On your left." Clary called. Jace had the time to duck the outstretched arms of a biter and shoot it in the head. Out of the corner of his eye, he checked on the siblings. Both seemed to be holding their own. To his right, Clary yelled out in pain. His heart beat quickened and he turned. Clary had been fighting well until a lame brain had grabbed her by her tresses of hair. It pulled her closer roughly, suddenly inches away from tearing into her. He raised his gun to shoot, but was met with a hollow click. Out of ammo.

"Dammit," he hissed. In the future, when he would look back on that moment, he would remember it had happened too fast for him to truly take in the situation. He would remember the way his heart plummeted, but not how quickly the lame brain struck. He would always remember the fear in the girl's grass green eyes as they glistened with tears. He would never know what she was thinking of or who she was apologizing to, as all survivors did when they were seconds away from dying.

But where Jace stood, with an empty gun in his hand, the future was a long way away. Adrenaline pumped through his heart and blood poured into his muscles as he lunged for the lame brain holding Clary mere centimeters away. He slammed its back into a nearby tree. The glassy lifeless orbs of the corpse were now trained on him. It struggled viciously to tear into the arm Jace was using to restrain it. He tightened his grip on the barrel of the handgun he possessed before swinging the butt of it into the the lame brain's temple. It's decomposing skull sunk inwards with a resounding crack. Blood and other slimy juices squirted out, dripping down the length of Jace's arm. The lame brain stopped struggling for a moment before resisting weakly once more. Jace bashed its head in again, clenching his jaw.

He felt guilt. He felt like he should be the one getting his head bashed in. He felt pity for the man that had been just like him before the sickness spread. Whoever it was that was pinned before him had just had one bad day. That was all it took. He felt no pity for the monster it had become. He just longed for the world where killing wasn't a means of survival.

Too bad that world was gone.

There was a voice behind him calling his name. Somberly, he dropped the empty gun stained with blood to the earth and took a step backwards. He registered a close growling behind him when it was too late. Jace could smell the rotting flesh of a lame brain two inches away from him. He turned around just in time to see Clary, looking strong and determined, as she thrust her stake into the soft skull of the biter that had just been about to rip his throat out. She grimaced at the droplets of blood that splattered onto her face. Jace thought he had never seen someone look so good covered in blood and dirt. He rose an eyebrow coupled with a smirk.

"Ever notice that we make a good team?"

"We nearly died," she challenged with her arms crossed and an attitude that penetrated him with more force than the stake she held so fondly.

"Yeah, thanks for that by the way, little miss damsel." She shot him a fierce glare. The wave of zombies seemed to have subsided.

"I don't damsel," she protested.

"Was that before or after I found you hanging trapped in a net with a herd of lame brains waiting to eat you?"

She huffed, clearly unamused.

"C'mon Clary, don't deny that we worked pretty well with each other." He was buzzing with adrenaline.

"Fine, Jace. Thank you so very much for not allowing me to die a grisly death. Happy?" She seemed more annoyed with herself than with him. He could imagine why. The girl that saw everything in terms of survival would have died had she been left to fend for her own.

"We did it!" A cheer rang out from the other end of the clearing. Jace looked away to see the siblings running toward him excitedly. Dead bodies—the dead dead kind—were scattered along the earth. The smell was terrible, but it was a better alternative than lying with them. Before he could stop himself, Jace wondered how many had died so far in the apocalypse. Thousands? Millions?…Billions?

Despite the wave of sadness that had descended upon him, he faked a smile to the awaiting siblings and high fived Max. He couldn't allow himself to feel so much sorrow for the dead that he forgot about the living.

"Did you see us?" Max crowed. "We were epic! They just kept coming and I was like 'pachow in your face barf breath! Die.'"

Isabelle giggled at her little brother's animated reenactment and Jace found himself with a small smile upon his face. He barely knew them, but the two were growing on him.

A streak of movement caught his eye. In the midst of celebration, Clary had used the opportunity to begin her escape. Jace couldn't help but feel anger toward the girl who had only come into his life two days beforehand. No, she wasn't going to leave again. Not yet. He wasn't done with her yet.

His hand shot out and encircled her arm. She jumped in shock.

"So Clary," he spoke smugly from behind her. "Let's talk."

He told her he would find her.


It's honestly super weird posting these old chapters as I'm about 3/4 through writing the entire story because everything is so different. In a good way though 😏. I'm definitely looking forward to you guys getting to read the next few chapters now that the foreshadowing has already begun. Like always, I'll update in a week or after reaching 12 reviews (which is purposely high so that I don't burst through this story and post everything in a week). Thank you for everyone who is reading and reviewing and I'll see you next time!

-Anika