Dang. You guys went crazy with reviews. Which makes me feel utterly horrible about the delay in posting. We got hit by a blizzard where I am-a historic mother load of a storm apparently-and so my friend was snowed in at my place. Therefore, no time to update. But I am absolutely floored by the amount of support you guys have given this story. Which makes what I'm about to do all the more devastating. Here we go!


There would come a night, Clary knew, where the screams of those being torn apart because of what she had done would haunt her. She would remember the exact sound of their bones cracking—like celery snapping in half, and an unhealthy dose of cringe. As she raced for her life, she had had to avoid looking upon the red stained memorial of her own choices and remind herself that it was for her own safety. It was a necessity. It was either her or them. How convenient, her mind would whisper like the traitorous little bitch it was, we always seem to be able to find an excuse to justify our wrongs, but never seem to be able to justify doing what is right instead. She ignored it and continued to race for survival. At night, she could cry over what she had to do to survive, just as she aways seemed to. But to cry, she would need to survive. And to survive, she would have to bear the weight of the shades of red that could so easily have been her own.

Run, Clary screamed to herself just as she had screamed at the trio in the moments beforehand. They hadn't listened judging by the echo of gunfire that surrounded her like a destructive halo. Typical. She could only hope that Jace knew a way out. Her entire plan was dependent upon the possibility that despite everything, the four of them would be the ones to escape unscathed. The end had to justify the means. And with every second that passed, the more zombies filtered in through the shattered doorway and the narrower this hope became. God, she better not have doomed them all. She just had to make it a little bit further and then—

She was pulled backwards by a hand tightly gripping her forearm. Fear clutched at her heart, ripping, pulling, tearing. Just as they would do to her. She spun, her free arm immediately going to the rifle at her hip. A desperate hand enclosed around her wrist, freezing her.

"Clary, please—"

She ripped her arm from Alec, the boy who had caused this mess. Her face twisted into a scowl. She would rather it have been a zombie.

"These deaths are on you, Alec," she spat, turning away. "I hope you're satisfied with the choices you've made."

"They have my boyfriend!" Clary hesitated, her foot left hovering above the stairs. "That's why I had to do this. That's why I had to lie and to leave and…they told me that if I got them Jace that they would let Magnus go."

His voice cracked painfully. Clary hoped he wasn't crying. She wouldn't be able to hate him if he cried and she wanted to hate him. She wanted a world painted with black and white, where you knew what was good and what was bad. It was easy to tell the monsters and the humans apart and things were easy. Simple. But her world was hard and the true monsters weren't the ones trying to eat her. Nothing was black and white in her world; here there was only red.

"Just go, Alec," her voice broke. She hated herself for it. "Run while you still can."

"Please, just…please take care of them. Let them know that I'll come back for them when I can."

Clary didn't respond. They both knew promises were useless.

"And Clary, be careful."

She caught a faint glimpse of Alec's retreating form before turning back to face her escape. Too much time had been wasted. The sounds that kept her up at night were growing closer, practically nipping at her feet. She ran, bolting up the stairs two, three at a time. Jace was there waiting for her at the top shooting at any zombies that seemed to get too close. When he saw her, he lowered his gun. There was something in his eyes—something that didn't seem allowed in a zombie apocalypse.

"Clary, are you—"

"Keep shooting you idiot!"

He nodded grimly, tucking his gun upon the sweet spot on his shoulder and repositioning his legs. Behind him, Isabelle and Max were just finishing up shoving the rest of the weapons and supplies into four duffel bags. She swallowed roughly at the sight, before turning to Jace.

"Please tell me you know a way out."

He nodded.

"I grabbed the keys to a stairway that leads up to the roof when I saw they were here. It's not far."

Clary let out a breath. Hope. It was such a strange feeling to have while she heard the screams of a massacre she had started, but it was there nonetheless. They had a chance. She didn't doom them all. They could—

A trickle of zombies were halfway up the stairs, with more following suit. The majority were still occupied with those trapped below, but there were only so many humans and so many zombies. So many. How were there this many?

She spun, holding her gun at the ready and grabbed a bag from a shaking Max. Clary paused at the sight of him—pale and weak, as if he were about to collapse on the spot—but moved on nonetheless. Escape first, catch up later. She shot a glance at Isabelle, cocking an eyebrow at the girl in question. Isabelle gave a clipped nod in response. Clary knew she wasn't okay, but she could give off the illusion until survival was guarenteed. She turned back to Jace.

"I'll shoot, you lead the way."

Over the next few minutes, Clary wasn't aware of much of anything aside from the shooting of her gun and the beating of her heart. Thump, Bang. Thump, Bang. Thump, Bang.

Another scream erupted throughout the corridor, violent and mournful. Then came the silence. There had been so much screaming earlier, it had seemed as if it would never end. Dante's vision of hell brought to life. Yet, the quiet seemed worse. It was still, making a moment last forever. Silence had a sound, Clary decided, and it was loud.

She forced her legs to move faster throughout the maze of hallways and deserted shop corners, swiftly dodging the occassional dead body. She had long grown used to the sight of corpses that decorated the landscape. It was the dead that wasn't quite so still that she had a problem with. With Valentine and his men silenced, they would be the next targets. A giant herd was on the move and they were the next course.

"Max, you have to move faster," Isabelle gripped the weary boy's arm in an effort to urge him along as he continued to trail behind the group. Clary noticed her bite her lip worriedly, but she couldn't focus on that. Not now. Not when she heard the echo of a click come from her rifle. Empty.

"Jace," she couldn't hide the panic that filled her voice, "how much farther are we?"

He made no effort to mask his panic either. Clary wasn't sure if that made her feel better or so, so much worse.

"The door is at the end of this hallway. We just have to—"

The ground beneath them quaked with the heavy footfalls of a herd. It was coming from all directions now. They were moments away from being surrounded.

"Is it just me or does it feel like they're getting smarter?" Isabelle breathed out in a way that almost sounded like a joke, but filled them with a cold emptiness. Dread.

Run, she wanted to say, though she knew what the response would be. No, duh. What do you think we've been doing? It was a cheer, a chant to push her on. Run, her mind screamed, over and over in the hopes that the more she said it the faster her legs would move.

She threw the gun that was now only dead weight to the side, hoping a particularly stupid zombie would trip and die upon it. Then, at least her death wouldn't totally be in vain.

Jace threw himself upon the door as Clary ripped her duffel bag open for a new gun. They were encircled by over a hundred zombies throwing themselves on top of each other in an effort to reach them first. Taking out a couple of them was rather futile from a practical standpoint. But damn, did it feel good.

Bang Bang Bitch, her mind spat. Isabelle stood next to her, looking powerful and confident as she shot closely approaching zombies with a bloodthirsty grin. A complete reversal from the teenager wielding a hairbrush as a weapon a few hours ago. She knew a similar expression could be seen on her own face. Every time she could take down these bastards, it felt like revenge for all those they had taken from her. Justice. That was rare to find these days.

A click sounded from behind her and a vicelike grip enclosed itself around her wrist, ripping her backwards. She tumbled, falling backwards against the staircase. Isabelle and Max were quick to zip inside just in time for Jace to slam the door against the still lunging zombies that had been so close to catching their prey. So close. Even as Jace locked the door, they all knew they weren't safe. Not yet. They were living on borrowed time, waiting for the time when the herd would manage to break the door down. How long would they have? Seconds? Minutes? Hours? It was impossible to tell.

Yet, their impending death didn't stop Clary from lunging at Jace and pushing him down upon the staircase. She jumped on top of him, a boiling kettle about to burst, and pinned him to the ground. He stared back up at her with wide eyes, but that didn't last. In a moment, his composed expression had returned. He smirked up at her, flashing his chipped tooth.

"Clary, not that I mind the position, but are you sure this is the best time to declare your feelings for me? There are children present."

She wanted to rip the stupid boy smirk off his stupid boy face. She wanted to rip off other stupid boy things too. But that was beside the point.

"Can it you asshole," she wanted to tear into him with her words with an equal amount of ferocity as the zombies would tear into them. "You have so much explaining to do!"

His jaw tensed as he regarded her with sobering eyes.

"What did he say to you?"

Clary paused, freezing at the chill of his voice.

"Jace—"

"Clary, what did he say to you?" He moved swiftly, pushing them both into sitting positions as he gripped her arms desperately. His eyes had darkened intently on her, acting as if it were a matter of life or death. She remembered when she had seen Jace earlier and had never remembered seeing him so angry. Now, as she looked at him, she couldn't recall ever seeing him so fearful. Who was this man who had such an affect on him? What had happened in Jace's past that was now being unearthed?

The door behind them let out a squeal. The metal of the hinges were crying out as a herd of zombies pushed against it, clawing for their meals. Clary shook her head, ripping herself from her position nearly sitting upon Jace's lap and grabbing for her duffel bag.

"Not now. The better they can hear us, the harder they'll fight to break down that door. First we have to focus on getting as far away from the herd as we can."

Jace let out a frustrated sigh, before nodding and moved to collect his supplies as well. Isabelle and Max had both been quiet, their heads drawn together as they mumbled quietly to themselves. However, the banging against the door had drawn them back into the immediate danger weighing down upon them all. They followed suit, collecting the supplies and moving up the staircase. About halfway up, Max stumbled. Isabelle was swift to collect his bag from him, taking on his extra load and giving him a slight smile. He did his best to replicate the gesture, but he may as well have been a zombie with the deadened expression on his face.

Something about the exchange nagged at her, though she didn't know why. It felt familiar yet inaccessible, like an answer on a test she hadn't studied well enough for. She turned, facing forward as the red sky of dawn felt warm against her face. The crimson hues were an untainted stroke upon a blazing earth. Despite all that had been lost when the world went to hell, there were some things that humans just couldn't seem to destroy, no matter how hard they tried. They were living in a desolate apocalyptic wasteland, yet the sun still rose and the grass still grew. The mountains on the horizon still stood. Monsters roamed the earth and they could die at any moment, but dang were the sunsets beautiful. Sometimes Clary would wake up in the morning and breathe in crisp, clean air and remember when the sky was filled with smog. It was amazing what the world was like without humans working factories or driving cars or dumping in the oceans.

There were times when Clary wondered if they had brought this upon themselves. If this was just nature's way of punishing the humans that were so intent on destruction. For centuries they had destroyed the earth and each other, now they would be doomed to walk the earth as the monsters they pretended not to be.

But then, Clary remembered Jonathan and Simon and her parents and even the old lady at the grocery store that had given her a teddy bear when she was six. Some may have deserved this world, but not everyone did.

"Clary—" The way he said her name—as if his very survival relied upon her—brought her from her stupor.

"You already got caught up on most of it. He wanted you; I was just collateral. He tried to get me to lead you to him and after I fought off a couple of his guys he said I was a fighter. He said I reminded him of someo—"

Jace cut her off quickly. "What about after? What did he tell you after? Before you escaped."

Clary's heart thudded in her chest as she remembered Valentine's twisted smile as she pointed a gun at him. He had looked so sure of himself. That damn smile had been what pushed her over the edge and convinced her to let the herd in. She looked up at the golden boy who was staring at her so intently.

"He told me that he looked forward to seeing me again." Clary shook her head, a frown staining her expression. "But—he's dead now. I made sure of that."

As she said it, she found herself less sure. Jace cursed violently, earning a nasty look from Isabelle who moved to cover Max's ears. Jace laughed nastily at the raven haired girl, his lips tugged up into a cruel smirk.

"He just saw people getting torn to shreds in there by a herd of lame brains and you're worried about a couple of bad words?"

Isabelle was silent, no longer looking at Jace. She was peering down, over the edge of the roof. Her body shook violently.

"Izzy—"

"Look."

Clary and Jace both took the few steps to the roof's edge. The city sprawled out before them in a tangled mass of concrete. It was a rule for survivors that the city was off limits. It was suicide to go into the city, where so many who had died still roamed. As Clary looked below, now she could see why. There must've been over a thousand specks below. And they were all shuffling to the mall, to them.

"And I thought Black Friday was bad," Jace murmured. Clary felt like throwing up.

"Is there a way out?"

Jace shrugged, though she could see through the shoddily put together facade. The day was wearing on him.

"Who knows? I don't normally make it a habit to jump off of roof tops."

Deep breaths, Clary, she internalized. You've already murdered enough people today.

"Hey," a small voice called out. "I think I found a way."

The three snapped their heads up to see Max, standing near the backside of the mall. Clary felt an internal pang. She had almost forgotten about the small boy. He had been so quiet ever since the four had reunited; since he had been reunited with his missing brother over the opposite side of a pointed gun. He seemed absolutely exhausted over the day's events and, as Clary took him in, she noted that his pallor was unnaturally pale, with a greenish tinge. The poor kid looked like he needed a nap. Hell, they all needed a nap.

The three moved swiftly to where he stood. It seemed that while every zombie in the city had somehow gotten wind of their presence, the backside of the mall had only a few lurking about. Poor saps, Clary thought dryly. Even in death they're so unpopular that nobody told them about the juicy looking humans in town. There was even a manhole cover not too far away. It was the best shot they had. And, as Clary heard another loud banging sound, she knew that any shot was better than staying there. It was just a matter of getting down the two story drop without becoming a pancake.

"This pipe looks big enough to support the weight of a person," Isabelle murmured, a touch of hope lighting up her face as she pointed to a thick corrugated pipe nearly as wide as Max that ran down the side of the building, ending a few feet away from a row of dumpsters. "We could shimmy down it and slip in the manhole to go back through the sewers."

Clary ran the plan through her head, mentally scanning the possibilities for anything that could go wrong. Of course, there was always the chance of them falling to a grisly death. Then again, if her brains were to be splattered against the pavement, at least she wouldn't come back as one of them. There was also the chance that the zombies below would notice what they were doing and the herd would come for them. But, as the continuous beating of the door told her, if they stayed, their chances were nonexistent. Everything pointed to this being their best—and only—hope for survival.

"I'll go first," Jace volunteered, looking at the pipe with obvious distrust. Clary shook her head.

"No, I should go first."

"What? No! What if—"

"Oh my god," Isabelle groaned, cutting the two off. "If you two don't quit flirting I swear I'm going to throw myself off this roof."

She continued on, ignoring their splutters and protests. "Clary can go first. She's probably the lightest anyways with those bird bones. Then Max and I can follow and Jace can stay here and be torn to shreds for getting us into this mess in the first place."

Jace looked affronted and, to Clary's surprise, ashamed. Yet, Clary knew he probably blamed himself too. Even if their plan worked and they all made it out of there alive, they wouldn't be without their scars. Just as Clary felt the burden of those who had died, Jace would feel the weight too. As angry as she was with him now, her chest felt a little lighter knowing that they could carry the burden together.

"I—if you don't want me to come after everything, I understand." Clary felt her heart stutter within her chest in surprise at the genuine vulnerability in his expression. Despite having been in his constant presence practically since they had met, she felt as if she were looking at him for the first time. A glance at Izzy showed that she, too, was surprised. Her expression immediately grew mournful.

"Jace, no. I was just kidding. I—well, yes, I do want answers and I am angry at the situation, but I don't want you to leave. None of us do. We don't blame you."

Isabelle looked to Clary for support. The girl swallowed nervously, feeling all eyes on her, feeling Jace's eyes on her. She looked up, green eyes locking with gold, and said, "Don't go."

Something flickered in his eyes before he nodded, swallowing roughly. Then, he smiled and Clary knew that somehow, they would all survive. They would all get through this, no matter what else came next.

"I'll go last."

And so it was.

A few minutes later, Clary was easing her way down the pipe. She wished her hands weren't so sweaty as she gripped the base of the pipe, acutely aware of the fact that she had no harnass. Every sound that she made sounded like gunfire. Yet, the zombies below seemed blithely unaware of the meal dangling above them. She was halfway down the pipe when she heard a moan. Her heart skipped a beat as her eyes raced to check her surroundings. There was nothing below her. Where could that sound have come fro—

"Max!" She heard Isabelle's scream before she felt the body crash into her. Her grip was wrenched from the pipe and then there was nothing but air below her. They both tumbled down and down and down. She heard their names being screamed from above, but all that registered was her grip on the limp ten year old and her body slamming into the metal lid of a dumpster. Her body tingled before it ached and then burned. Pay attention to me! Pay attention to me! her nerves screamed at her. She let out a moan, until she realized that she hadn't at all. It was coming from further away, as the nearby zombies now became aware of the injured prey that had been sent from above.

"Clary!" Her head was swimming. She couldn't bother to figure out who had called to her. Stop moving, her body yelled at her, but her body wasn't as much of an incentive as a crowd of monsters who wanted to eat her so she shakily pushed herself up on her elbows. Something wet was stuck to her forehead. Clary already knew what it was.

Shit, she whispered. Zombies were like sharks. They were drawn to blood and once they got a good whiff, they had a way of tracking you. She pushed back the new reality of their situation, looking at the boy beside her. He was unconscious, a sheen of perspiration coating his face. What had happened to him that had caused him to lose consciousness like that?

The moaning was closer now. She swore again for good measure before reaching for the sawed off shotgun that had fallen to her left. She looked up. There were only half a dozen zombies surrounding her, though she figured more would join them soon enough. Despite the stream of blood now pouring into her eyesight, she began to shoot.

6. Bang!

5. Bang!

4. Bang!

3. Bang!

2. Bang!

1—the gun dropped from her palms. Her hands were shaking as they moved to cover the sobs that shook her core as her eyes locked upon the zombie that was growling at her. The dumpster quaked as two extra weights dropped next to her, but she couldn't tear her eyes away. She just couldn't.

"Clary," a voice sounded to her left. Distantly, a part of her recognized the voice. Yet, it felt so far away. The voice cursed before fondling for their gun, aiming and preparing to pull the trigger before—

"No!" Clary screamed, bolting to her feet and trying to wrestle the gun from him. Golden eyes locked on her in surprise. His mouth opened, trying to make sense, trying to comprehend. She shook her head.

"Please Jace. Don't, please. It's just one zombie. We can just go!"

He paused, taking in the blood and tears pouring down her face. He looked like he wanted to argue, he really looked like wanted to argue, but he didn't. Slowly, he nodded and she felt her heart surge. He didn't understand. No, he wouldn't. To him, he only saw a zombie. But to her, she saw the pale blond hair and green eyes that she had grown up with. She saw the brother that she couldn't bring herself to kill and, as a result, she had gotten who knows how many others killed. She knew inside that she should. She owed it to Jonathan to set him free, to not allow him to be a monster eternally roaming the earth. But she could never bring herself to do it. Even as she took in the fresh blood that dribbled from his mouth and wondered how many people her brother had eaten, she couldn't do it.

And so, she stumbled after Jace as he carried Max gingerly to the manhole. She often thought about the choices she's made. If she had just killed Simon while she had the chance instead of running, she never would have led him to her brother. Her choices got people killed. And yet, she closed the manhole behind her, saying silent goodbyes to the brother that now looked at her more like a meal than his sister. Her choices got people killed, yet she made the same mistakes because inside she was still just the little girl who couldn't be left alone in the zombie apocalypse.

After her feet hit the ground, she gingerly began to wipe the tears and blood from her face with her sleeve. The sounds of yelling and sobbing stopped her in her tracks. Jace stood with his hands buried deep within his hair, yelling profanities down the sewer. Beneath him, Isabelle cradled Max's unconscious form in her arms, sobbing desperately. Clary took a step closer and then she saw it. On Max's shoulder was a bite mark that glowed bright red against his ivory skin. Her legs gave out, sending her to her knees. There was only one explanation for what had bitten him.

With one look at Isabelle's desperate eyes, it became clear that she had known all along. They all were responsible for their choices. And, like Clary, Isabelle had chosen love, no matter who might die because of it.


The title of this chapter is very indicative, as you may have guessed. I officially only have two chapters left to actually write in this story, so even I don't know how it will all end up. But I do ask that you bear with me, because it will be worth it. I'm going to try to spoil as little as possible (which, let me tell you, is super hard) but I'll just say that the next few chapters are going to make you both incredibly upset and excited.

So, all I'll say for now is to make sure to review so I can post this story before I end up spoiling it.

Thanks for reading and reviewing!

-Anika