Chapter 9

(Eliza's POV)

"Clary please..." My voice faded to nothing. "No..."

" I'm alone now."

There were long silences between the quiet words I spoke, half sobs, half whispers. It was as if I couldn't work up the strength to speak properly.

"I'm not brave. I'm scared..."

I don't know how long I just sat there, cradling the cold, broken body of the only person in this world who mattered to me. I do know that it was an unbearably long time before I could work up the strength, mentally and physically, to drag her into a cell. I knew it would be more.. merciful.. to put her down but I couldn't do it. Clary would turn soon, there was no doubt about that. I couldn't stay in this station. I wouldn't be able to handle seeing Clary become one of those things. Her dying right in front of me was enough to completely break me but, maybe in the end.. I'd grow stronger from this. You know, like the lyrics "Sometimes to stay alive, you gotta kill your mind." Well, my mind's definitely dead now. In some ways, I'm jealous of Clary. She doesn't have to live in this world anymore. She'll see my parents, her husband, both of our families. Everyone she's ever lost will be with her again. But I need to survive. I need to keep going. Do what she said. Find a group and live. Well, at least do what's considered living nowadays. So I left. I left the station. I left the town. I left almost every memory of my old life behind.

I'd been wandering the highway for hours before coming across any walkers which, I suppose, is a good thing. It could also mean there are other people around. That's a bad thing. I know Clary said to stay with a group but I can't handle that right now. I eventually came across cars on the highway piled up. They were probably trying to get out of Atlanta before it was bombed. We weren't even nearby the city, miles away even, and we heard the bombs drop. That was the moment when most of the hope we had left was demolished.

Anyways, I looted a lot of cars. Anything that I could find was stuffed into my backpack. I haven't cried since the station. I've been almost completely numb since Clary died. I still have nightmares about her. Violent ones. There's blood. So much blood and it's everywhere. I know it's not mine. The dark blood is Clary's, mixing with the darker blood from every walker that I've killed. There so much screaming and it all comes from not Clary, but me. The thing is, they're not just nightmares. Every detail is a memory, vivid and red. The blood still stains my boots and jeans. It not like there's time for fashion anymore. As long as it's comfortable and fits decently, I'll wear it. Right now I've got on a Fall Out Boy shirt, green jeans, and combat boots along with my black hoodie from before. I feel alone. I feel so, utterly, alone. I haven't seen a living thing (except for birds) in over a week. It's been two since Clary died. I don't even know where I am anymore.

There's a herd nearby that's been following me almost the whole time I've been out here. With the noise, more and more just gather. I'm too tired to take them out. Eventually, when I have some strength left, I'll take care of it but right now, my biggest priority is food and some sort of shelter for tonight. It's already getting dark and the walkers seem more restless at night. It's weird. They're just like zombies out of the movies or comic books but I've yet to hear anyone call them that. I decided to head off into the woods to try and find somewhere to sleep. Maybe I could tie myself up in a tree? I'd be off the ground and away from the reach of any walkers or people. Yeah.. that's what I'd do. A tree

My plan was much less than foolproof. There were almost no trees in this forest that could be tall enough or support my weight, let alone hide me from anyone (or anything) that might want to hurt me or even kill me. I probably spent a good part of the next hour trying to find what I was looking for but I found it. Eventually. It did take me a long time to climb it, though. I was so tired from all my walking. I had barely stopped in the past 48 hours. I knew I would be sleeping well tonight. Honestly, for the situation I was in, I was doing pretty well for myself. I had food, water, any kind of supplies I might need, and a place to sleep for the night. Maybe this wouldn't be too hard. Maybe, just maybe, I would make it. It was times like these when I felt most hopeful. As I was drifting off to sleep, I knew this would be the best night I'd had in a long time.