Carrying the Fire

The Georgian forest persevered another winter and at last dripped away what remained of its frost to expose fresh foliage finally beginning to flourish amongst the woodland. The pale, withered woods with its naked branches were now brightened by thick clusters of green blossoming when the season's crisp chill settled. A wisp of air disrupted streaks of early sunlight peeking themselves through the overhead growth and dislodged the highlighted morning fog that danced in new directions like smoke amongst the treetops. The dull crunch of bones and the thud of an arrow could be heard amongst the quiet of the awakening woods as it lodged fur and flesh between the bark of a tree trunk. I watched from the forest floor as the unfortunate possum my arrow had impaled seized and cried out in either pain or surprise. All muscles clenched under its coarse fur and it released a small last breath before hanging limp against the tree it had been pinned against. My thoughts lingered on that last gasp; even though it was the cry of an animal it still sounded distinctly familiar. I felt momentarily compassionate for the life I had snuffed out so indifferently, this creature had felt pain before it died that I inflicted, but tried to justify to myself it was a life for a life.

It was the forest that went about its ways like every other year while the world around it was silenced. When all the screams and the gun fires were ceased, the bombs done being dropped, and fires extinguished all on their own, the world was left with little else to say. No one knew where to even begin putting the pieces of our existence back together after the dead awoke and devoured everything. All I had ever done or had established in my life didn't count for a damn thing in this extinction. The debt of student loans, car payments, rent, and credit card bills were no longer the heavy burden over my shoulder. Yet even stripped bare of all materialistic values, it now felt as if a whole weight of a world was heaved upon me. Any aspirations I had envisioned for myself a year ago felt insignificant and meaningless. My only ambitions now are to survive this path laid before me, however empty and ominous it felt. Some days I wasn't sure if I was avoiding heaven anymore, but rather just stuck in a purgatory this whole time. Was this to be mine, and all the rest of man-kind's punishment for our sins against this earth; the wars, the genocides, or all the other greed influenced transgressions against one another? If so, it was chosen that I should reap alone. I lived in seclusion for so long after I'd burned all my bridges that the tips of my fingers now pulled back on the bowstring as a response to any sound or an impulse, and my precision directly sought out the source as easily as my grasp released a nocked arrow. To endure I had to adapt. In this new way of life I relied off raw disposition. It was all too instinctual and it haunted me if I ever took the time anymore to reflect on it. Especially now as I took a moment, hating this part, before slicing through my prey's pelt with one of my smaller blades. I felt my face scrunch up sourly as I tore back the skin of its underbelly with my hands, careful not to tear any essential organs.

Using my forearm in favor of my blood-clotted hands, I brushed a few stray strands of hair and sweat from my face while pausing to lean my head back against the tree I had settled in after my morning hunt. You think I'd be used to this grotesque chore by now. The sight of a smaller torn open corpse shouldn't perturb me this much these days after almost a year of watching people stripped apart from flesh to bones by the reanimated dead. In an attempt to breathe fresher air, I pulled down the bandanna I'd tied around my face and closed my eyes to inhale a few gulps to get over the wave of nausea that had begun creeping over me. Once able to coax down the urge to hurl, I huffed out one last reluctant puff of air before pulling the black cloth back up over my nose and buried my fingers into the small cadaver. The possum's interior bled out over the branch while I pushed aside small organs and dug out its thin but long intestines to wrap around my fingers like thread until detaching it from the stomach. Grasping the rope-like organ and my small blade in one hand, I reached down to unscrew the cap of a water bottle I'd been balancing between my legs to prepare to soak and unravel the sinew. After washing off enough blood, I hung the large rodent's intestines from the tree branch I'd been perched in to drip away some of its slickness. Sighing at one down, I turned to scowl at the two other small bodies that hung from a nearby branch just above my head.

"Just think of em as a Salisbury steak." I lightly chuckled along with the familiar voice I could now only hear in my memories and resigning to reach for the next squirrel carcass. Although it didn't stay long, I felt a fleeting grin tug at the corner of my lips at remembering there was a time I had to be enticed to eat the game brought back to camp. I used to watch abhorrently when rabbits and squirrels began being brought back to be skinned and cooked. It seemed another lifetime ago I was squeamish about having to indulge in the small animals when supplies of food ran low and I'd been disconcerted to see the little furry limp bodies rather than already frozen and packaged meat slabs like I'd been accustomed to. Oh how long those months of living off animals had been before the group I had once allied with were finally able to reach canned provisions.

When this plague cut the most rapidly through populated cities, I had been completely unprepared at work when Atlanta fell to the dead, centered in what they later referred to as Georgia's red zone. My boyfriend Todd, who had been outside the city and recognized the severity of what was going down, stocked up as much food and supplies he could pack from our apartment. As helpful as that had been, our groceries had only lasted a fairly short time in the beginning while holed up in a corpse infested apartment complex, all of us still trying to comprehend just what was going on. Having always been wary of Todd's collection of hand guns in our apartment when we had first moved in together, now I thought ironically how much they had saved our asses during the outbreak- for protection and a means to keep from starving. But that was in the early days of us surviving, until we found more effective methods than popping off rounds in the woods just outside the city. Thinking back on it all now, I felt regretful for all the grief I'd given Todd. We had been together five years, and even though Todd technically had no law-bound obligation to me, being neither married or having children, he had sacrificed his soul and more to see that we made it through the chaos of the diseased devouring the living. During and after. Including encouraging me to think of our favorite dish we'd order out to eat at dinner rather than charred raccoon meat.

Not wanting to distract my mood from what needed to be done for the day, I pushed my regretful memories of just how much the awakening dead had taken to the back of my mind. Once successfully gutting the rest of my catches for the day, I used the rest of my spare water to wash the blood off my hands before taking the last swig for myself. Reaching back up for my bag I'd also buckled to the branch just above me, I retrieved the thick pieces of birch I just finished sharpening into shafts yesterday with feathers I also prepared to tie on. Sheathing the knife back into my boot for a moment, I grabbed for one of the shafts and goose feathers I had come up on a few days ago to give them a final inspection. Twiddling the birch between my fingers, I tried to recall Todd's instructions again. Double checking the straightness of the shaft, I unhooked the bow I had looped my boot through and nocked it through the compound bow. I stared down the bow sight for any unevenness and after deeming it straight enough I looked back to determine its draw length against the bow string. Gathering one of the slippery flesh colored ropes now decorating the tree branches, I slipped my knife back out and cut off about half a foot length to begin the process of tying down the feathers with good old fashioned sinew for my first fletching of the day. I should keep a better eye out for glue while I'm out for supplies, I scoffed to myself, thinking how much easier my life would be if I could just douse some rope with glue than ripping out animal organs. Down to only three of the original arrows Todd had left me, I clung to every last one, regretfully having to part with quite a few embedded in the pursuing dead throughout the winter. Part of ensuring I knew how to protect myself after the initial extermination of the living, Todd had taught me multiple ways of making my own arrows when he knew mine would inevitably run out. Every morning was now assigned to making my own fletching with Spring beginning to peak. I had to make do with what was provided to me- squirrels, birdies, and bunny rabbits.

During the winter, Biters (as I'd grown accustomed to calling them from the beginning) were much more sluggishly when the Georgian snow seemed to slow their pursuit, allowing me to conserve my arrows and use Todd's sickle most of the season. Of course I had the M16A3 with ammunition I'd nabbed before departing into the frozen forest for more last resort purposes, but there's only been a handful of times I'd actually had to fire it and used the time to familiarize myself with the new melee weapon I also made sure to take with me instead. For extra protection or sentimental value, I couldn't tell you which for, but I'd be damned if I left Todd's blade in the hands of his murderers like some trophy. It was a small benefit to have winter's assistance against the undead, but a monstrous new danger when surviving in the woods. It brought back a familiar ache in my bones just remembering the biting cold I had to endure huddled in any enclosure I could scrounge for against the frigid exposure in the wilderness. I had been stuck between the choice hiding in the snow covered woods or risk being found by the dead- or living holding up in nearby cars, houses, or stores. That had been a very hard few months and I came closer to death from the cold and starvation than at the hands of Biters. But I had been determined for it not to break me.

"You're strong, you can survive. Do you hear me? You've got to be strong." My thoughts shied away from the sharp prick of yearning in my chest for my former companion's strength I could've needed during those hypothermic days. But there was no humanity left for brotherhood, chivalry, or even love anymore. Todd and I had watched it deteriorate like the rot of an old oak tree; you wouldn't guess the interior could be so dead from looking at its outside appearance until it toppled on top of you.

After fashioning all my new fletchings together, I waited for them to dry in the widening gaps of sunshine beginning to overflow from the branches above as the morning's chill faded with the sunrise. I unbuckled the bag from its branch and pulled it on my lap, unzipping it to retrieve the assault rifle stashed inside. Detaching the external magazine, I reloaded the clip with new rounds and slid the 5.56's back in place. Having gotten the rifle wet multiple times in the past and unsuccessful avoiding rust, it was shit. Not a subtle weapon when surviving quietly on your own and constantly jamming. I rarely used it, finding my compound bow or the curved sword much more convenient and quiet weapons, but I still tried to keep it in the best condition I could sustain it in out of respect for its former owner. Today would be one of those days I especially needed it in tip-top shape.

Once somewhat satisfied after testing out the durability of my new arrows against a branch a few feet down and with the restocked clip, I felt ready to proceed with the tasks for the day. Grabbing Todd's oversized windbreaker hung with all my other strewn about supplies in the treetop, I slipped into its protective coverage and made sure to zip it all the way up with a soft grimace as I smoothed down the material. I packed the rifle back in my bag I'd be taking with a couple extra prestocked magazines and buckled the straps securely around me as I readied to climb down. Reaching my make-shift arrows, I ripped them loose and placed them sticking out of my bag zippered only a third of the way to allow their brothers to peek out far enough that I could reach and pull them free with ease. It wasn't a sufficient quiver, but it did the job. I continued to make my way down the tree, feeling more at ease descending from such a height than I had a few months ago now that I'd become more comfortable maneuvering in and out of these trees. Once settled with my feet back on steady ground, I led myself south. My sight continuously searched for any signs of Biters while I tried to keep track of the marks I subtly nicked on tree roots to help navigate me through these woods. I followed my engravings anxiously, the wood handle of Todd's blade knocked reassuringly against my leg and to add extra measure, the compound bow was extended down in front of me while I walked, my other arm bent up as my fingers lightly tugged up on a prepared arrow to arouse and react to any suspicious presence.

Finally, after a good hour or so hike the chiseled markings ceased. Knowing what was just a few yards up ahead now, I scanned ever so carefully across the forest floor to watch for snares I'd been establishing the last few weeks while I stepped cautiously around dangerous ground. All my experimenting with different types of traps all winter taught me to know better and tactfully mark where traps were camouflaged after almost being discovered once before. Even though I covered all wires, ropes, and sink holes carefully to keep from alerting any passing by intruders there was a living-being close by, I had dripped small droplets of paint I'd found left behind in a looted Home Depot every couple of feet to direct me in the safest path through the mine-field of just about two dozen booby-traps. So I treaded lightly while keeping in mind how idiotic it would be of me to get caught in one of my own traps, most likely to set off dozens more and ruin my almost month's worth of labor. I had set the snares and sink holes so close together purposely but it sure made it a hell of a lot harder to inspect how the traps were holding up. Checking as much as I could that the majority of branches were still taunt, stakes still embedded sufficiently, and ropes tied tight enough, I deliberated I was in the best condition as any to continue on with my plan I'd been preparing to put in motion for weeks. The sky confirmed it was already midday, causing a niggling worry to arise in my nerves that I needed to hurry before the sun set and it would be utter suicide to continue out my plan under the cover of darkness.

About a mile further south, the trees began to slowly grow wider apart as the forest began to recede. The bird calls had now ceased and left the forest clearing eerily silent with only the sound of my boots cracking over the departed leaves and twigs littered amongst the ground. No matter how softly I tried to step, every little sound made me even more paranoid of detection from some dead bastard lurking around the woods. I'd seen some of my catches mauled before I was able to collect them, and the way they'd been gnarled on showed signs that more Biters were beginning to wander even further away from cities to find a meal. Guess the buffets ended, I thought tersely.

As the foliage began to thin familiarly, I scouted the clutter of evidence left behind that there had once been civilization before the dead took over this shopping center before the nearest town up ahead. Pressing my back against a nearby tree, I peered around to scan for new cars or indications of any unexpected surprises that hadn't been there the day before. After having paced around the perimeter a few times to double-check and confirming the only danger was the dead, I proceeded forward. Soon even the smaller trees dispersed to almost no coverage at all, urging my pace to hasten across the exposed clearing without being spotted by dead or living eyes. Instinctively my hands reached to pull loose the hammer-like handle of the sickle looped through my belt, unsheathing it to quietly dispatch loitering Biters outside the shopping center compound. Yanking the hooked blade back out from the cheek of the last straggler Biter's face, I briefly saw its teeth dislodged from its rotted gums before it collapsed, some pelted down like hail fall against my shoes before I turned my gaze to avoid blood splatter in my eyes. As I continued to sprint to the back of one of these buildings, I dived against a dumpster outside the petite shopping center I planned to raid. I could hear the familiar groans of the dead shuffling amongst themselves just up ahead from the back alley I was preparing to duck into. Taking a few deep inhales to quiet my shuddering breaths of fearful anticipation, I peeked around the building to determine my entrance strategy. Only two Biters drifted between the building's crevice I decided to infiltrate first, but just a few more feet away I could spot several more walking amongst themselves- probably right outside the Big 5 building's entrance that I was preparing to scavenge later. As I suspected, there were too many to take on and expect to escape successfully, even considering it was a small mob.

My fingers fumbled hurriedly to unbuckle my backpack's straps from around me, slinging it up front and unzipping the center compartment to retrieve the rifle secured inside. When my hand reached to cock the semi-automatic, I noticed how severely it was shaking and just how labored my breathing had become. Closing my eyes to take a moment before I jumped out there in jitters, I inhaled a deep breath to pass through my lips and settle my constricting chest and down into my stomach. Placing one hand on my sternum and the other over my abdomen, I concentrated inhaling big enough breaths to push away the elephant weighing down on me and lift my hands up higher, taking turns making my chest hand rise then my stomach and vice-verse as I got a grip. Todd had always been good about calming me and had even picked up a few tricks to help me through my easily triggered asthma attacks. This method of visibly monitoring my breaths with my hands had been something Todd had tried and we discovered actually worked. Behind my eyelids I could see his gaze, those transcendent summer sky colored irises shinned back at me with a memorable crystal-clear assurance.

You're Strong. Releasing more air through my nostrils, I clenched and flexed the stiffness out of my knuckles a few times while trying to calm the rhythm of my heart, imagining my hands were Todd's to help guide me back to normalcy. You've got to be strong. Todd had a braveness I'd always wished for. I could recall the man I thought I'd known from the inside and out for five years step up and evolve into someone I had never known existed. I'd seen him take out Biters with a fierceness I would have never known burned inside of him and he would rarely, if ever, hesitate and his hands never shook, yet he was never blood thirsty like some of our own had become after so long. I used to try and find some empowerment from his kindling, one look into his bright sapphire's sparked a fire within me to follow him unquestionably through madness. After all this time apart, tried so desperately to keep those eyes in my memories as they were all I had left to shield my resolve from flickering away. Swallowing the rest of my apprehension, I willed myself to take just a few more seconds until I'd have to get my ass up and stop pussying out.

One. "We gotta just keep carrying the fire." Two. "What fire?" Three. "The fire inside you."

Opening my eyes, I stood up to shrug back into my bag's straps, my hands no longer shaking when I cocked back the safety. Stepping into the open of the small alley, I crept through the side-street leading to the front of the stores. Taking in another long breath that only just barely shuddered this time, I let a sense of clarity soothe over every tauten muscle beneath my skin and raised the rifle to press back against my shoulder to stare down its sight. These were just dead mother fuckers about to be more dead. I fired three deafening shots through the skulls of unsuspecting Biters, the first getting popped in the shoulder before I adjusted my aim to pelt it through the face and was able to dead center my next shot so I didn't have to waste any bullets on account of sloppy shooting. Brain and skull matter splattered across the cement walls to replicate the echoing of shots throughout the abandoned town. I froze along with every other Biter populated around this building complex and in one collective motion, down to the furthest wandering around the highway's on ramp into the town, mechanically turned their heads almost at once to the source of the sudden crack of sound. All silver clouded eyes on me. Quick to snap out of my stage fright, I flung the rifle over my shoulder by the strap as every Biter's direction began turning my way. Weak lumbering began to quicken when the realization of human flesh spread amongst the crowd.

Turning back out the way I'd came, I cleared out of the back street at full speed, but wasn't prepared to be caught so abruptly off guard when I slammed head on into a Biter that had come to investigate the disruption at the other end of the block. A startled choke escaped my lungs when the wind was knocked so sharply out of me from being smacked back so hard to the ground. Hearing before seeing, I landed right beside the rotting body I had brought down with me and scurried to roll away across the concrete when it wasted little time reaching for me with its infected fingers. There was a sickening jolt in my stomach as I noticed all the man's fingernails had been torn almost entirely off with thick shards of glass jutting out of the puss leaking lesions. Trying to keep from its dangerously diseased grasp while scrambling to get back on my feet, I gathered all my leg power to stomp its face back with my boot. Hearing the crunch of bone and cartilage crumble under my heel when its head shot back, I internally cringed but it did give me the time I needed to get up as the Biter struggled to recover and its growls just grew wilder. Taking only a second to catch my breath, I saw a small distance away where the sickle had fallen out of my belt and the rifle rolled off my shoulder across the pavement when I fell. I ran to retrieve the curved steel first, whirling back around to slash the blade across the head and pierced it deep enough through brain to silence the feral corpse's snarling. But it was short lived as I heard another guttural growl closer than I should behind me. Out of my peripheral view, I could glimpse there was one more closing the distance to me fast and with my blade still firmly embedded halfway through the Biter's skull I wouldn't dislodge it in time. Resorting to reach for my fletchings behind me, I spun back around on my heels and staked the arrow through the eye of the decayed trying to come up behind me. So deteriorated already from previous gashes bitten from its face, the skull practically cracked horizontally in half with the force of the stab and from being so rotted, the top of its skull fell on my boots like a cracked eggshell. This analogy didn't help coax my gag reflex, I thought even behind the bandanna I kept tied under my eyes while trying to bat away the pieces of skull off my shoes and coughing back the urge to heave. Tearing out both sickle and arrow, I turned back towards my exit to swing the arched blade as if I was some ball player, a trick I'd picked up while watching Todd hurl this steel around like a baseball bat, and lopped off two more heads of those blocking my path to retreat.

The decapitation of steel slicing through vertebrae was definitely something to admire, but tiresome none-the-less. Eventually I made it to the clearing before I could be cluttered amongst too many Biters and was able to outrun them back into the coverage of the treeline, stopping only to see the pace of the small horde following after me. All these reanimated cadavers shared one mindless desire, and like ants I watched as all rotting carcasses alike trickle through the crevices of buildings to chase the trail of my living scent. In my brief pause I soothed my breaths back down and observed the oncoming dead, their ravenous snarls and moans were successfully following me into the forest.

"So far so good," I muttered. Springing back into a run, I kept my pace deliberately just enough ahead of the shopping center Biters to ensure they followed my planned direction. In all my adrenaline, I reminded myself to keep my sights continuously scanning over all my surroundings incase any forest wanderers were attracted to my gun shots as well. Once I put enough distance between us I sheathed my blade and I swung my bow that had stayed secured around my back and proceeded to choose an arrow amongst its brothers. There were too many beginning to clutter together so I had to take the time to stop again and dwindle down some of the front ranks.

"See you later," I assured my fletching as I nocked the shaft and pulled back on the bow string to the end of my grin. Aligning my arrow with my sight, I picked out the faster of the Biters leading the charge. Inhaling, my eyes focused on the tip of the bolt and aiming it straight for this man's forehead. Exhaling, I released the arrow to impale through my target's skull, his body rocked back from the force of the puncture at such speed. Proficiently I released about five more fletchings through my conquest of emaciated dead, but eventually was interrupted from my shooting to put more distance between us again. Only running a few more yards further, I resumed to reload my bow and serve seven more arrows through the rotting heads of my pursuers. Of course, I did suffer a few throw away shots, some arrows grazing just slightly past a temple or fell short to impale the throat or side of a neck instead. Each loss made me wince in frustration, I still had a ways to go and could not afford to waste any fletchings with this plan of mine only half finished. Finally, after another mile of dwindling the number of Biters amongst the trees with my pattern of stops and runs, I spotted my paint. Sprinted after the direction of the little orange dribbles along the dirt and leaves, I left the dead behind to give myself enough time to prepare. Once my markings came to an end, I nocked another arrow and squinted my eyes a little extra to aim at the distant Biters until settling for a suitable target. I gradually picked off the front line of carnivorous dead, prolonging their progression towards me with every arrow I sent flying through the trees. Eventually, my arrows begun to run fewer and I had to lay off how many I sent out, letting the Biter's completely breach the clearing of traps in my self-made no-man's land.

The first Biter to get caught successfully stepped right into the ditch I had disguised with a thick cover of leaves. This poor devil's foot disappeared down the pit where the sharpened stakes I embedded into the sides in the dirt hole stabbed through his now immobilized leg. Another knocked into a tied down branch of a young sapling as she staggered through, snapping her back when the cord around the bent back tree tightened instantly around her decomposing ankle. Blood spurted out of the pale sea-green complexion of deteriorating skin while the Biter mindlessly pulled against the wire, the cord fastening the more it struggled to free itself even with its flesh was being sliced through. Proceeding to diminish those that seemed to miss or step past the snares and stakes, I looked on as the pack of shopping center Biters were slowly beginning to either find their end at my arrows or caught and ceased in my traps. When all my snares seemed to be triggered and most of my fletchings gone, I hitched the bow back around my shoulder to unhook the blade at my hip back out. Unsheathing the curve of steel, I held the sickle extended out at my side while re-evaluating my surroundings to determine my best approach before running head on towards the remaining hungry. Balls all out.

With a firm grip on the handle of Todd's sickle, I swung the blade forward through the thicket of traps. I had no delusions I could take down the rest of this mob, but could still silence the snared Biters as I ran through the already fallen corpses to retrieve my arrows. I ducked and weaved through grabbing hands, but remembered my manners and introduced them to my hook of steel. One huge Biter who I had noticed at the head of the pack earlier had completely ripped free of his decaying ligaments and detached his ankle that severed against the wire holding down his foot while another wildly thrashed to pull itself up out of the hole its whole leg fell through. Even though my death ditches must have had at least several sharpened stakes impaled in to each of the Biter's leg when it fell through the staged brush, but I could still witness from my peripheral vision one tearing its way hideously out of the deep ditch. However, I had to whirl around as a Biter attempted to run up on me, its teeth already snapping towards the back of my neck. Swinging my blade again through air, I squinted my eyes shut as I could feel blood splatter across my face as if someone had flicked a freshly dipped paintbrush. Opening them, I witnessed the top of the Biter's head I had chopped diagonally off slide down from its blood slickened bottom half and slide down on the grass to soon be followed by its remains. Another was still running forward and was just as quickly sliced down when I brought my aim higher this time to completely cut the steel clean across the skull. Whoever this person had once been, had the whole top of their head and hair scalped clean off as if I intended an Apache assassination. The energy of swinging the sickle around was beginning to catch up with me, and despite being exhausted, my heart pounded faster in my ears at seeing a group of three more coming only a few paces away. I wasn't going to be able to carry on like this for much longer. Decapitating another nearby corpse, I turned to the next and stabbed my blade down to hook it through the brain. Before the body could fall, I shoved forward with it still embedded in the sickle like a shield into the fray of oncoming Biters, grunting as I used all my strength to push them back with the force of kicking the dead Biter's body off my blade. Taking the opportunity while they hurried to pick themselves up off the ground from under my Biter shield, I turned to hack the sickle down and dismembered the next closest Biter's arms from the shoulders down while dodging its teeth, then sliced across its throat. Blood gushed out as I slit the long laceration through its jugular and reluctantly allowed it to spurt over on me. Not yet finished, I raked the steel across its stomach and watched more blood pour out with spilt internal organs. I remained still for a few moments while the corpse spluttered but still tried to snap for my flesh, but it was rendered harmless enough once I jammed the curve up under its chin to cleave its head almost in half. Rotten Biter blood smelt horrendously rank, but I allowed the bleeding torso to splatter all over my clothing while I shakily held it up under my hook to allow it to soak me properly.

When drenched sufficiently enough, I jerked the blade back out and allowed the bleeding corpse to finally fall from me. Once dispatching the rest of the recovering Biters I'd kicked down previously, I turned to survey if my escape was still clear. I wasn't given much time to catch my bearings before I felt my head snap backwards when a reckoning weight dropped down on the back of my scalp. Taken so suddenly off guard, my feet felt pulled out from under me as I fell back across the dirt floor while I realized my hair was being continuously yanked on. There was a rabid growl close enough to my head that its breath blew against stray strands of hair across my forehead, I was too afraid a decayed mouth would be my last sight if I looked back. Unable to keep from crying out, I tried pulling myself from its grasp but it just continued to claw its way up my braid that had come unwrapped from the bun I'd pinned it in earlier, not allowing for any escape. I realized it was the Biter who had been dislodging itself from the sink hole when I caught a glimpsed its right leg that was now reduced to ribbons of tendons, ligaments, flesh and torn apart bones, its foot all the way up past its knee no longer even existent as it must've crawled its way to me while I'd been distracted. A memory of my once beloved long hair I used to comb, curl, straighten, and had grown out for almost three years flashed across my mind; the way Todd used to comb his fingers through the dark strands after making love, stroking his fingertips down my bare back while we curled against one another. It was another sharp tug on my scalp that snapped me back to the present and without another thought, I bent my knee up so I could reach for my knife stored in my boot to lash out and relieve the weight pulling down on my head. Too spooked to stay any longer, I didn't bother to finish off the upset Biter as I all but sprung up from the ground and ran as fast as my legs would physically allow me, the weight on the back of my head feeling unfamiliarly light.

My boots pelted across the forest floor and my arms pumped up and down at my sides, any thoughts of trying to disguise my trail seemed unimportant during this escape. Looking over my shoulder, I saw I was successfully putting a sufficient distance between the remaining Biters but panic nagged me to run further north. Maybe after about a half a mile's worth of running, I finally got a grip of myself. Spotting a good space of thick enough trees, I jumped up to wrap my arms and legs around a tree trunk, digging my boots into the bark to stabilize myself. My hands and thighs shook violently from exhaustion as I clung to the trunk, clenching my teeth as I dug up whatever remaining strength I had in me to pull my weight up. It was anything but subtle as I felt my boots scrape off huge amounts of bark as I all but clawed my way up the tree trunk until I could finally latch onto a sturdy enough branch to pull myself completely up. Once perched up above on the tree's first limb, it was easier to keep pulling myself up with branches spread closer together the higher I climbed. Picking a branch high enough and with a fair amount of leaves growing to cover my existence amongst the treetop, I pushed my body up against the trunk and flattened myself against the bark as much as possible. It was proving extremely difficult to get my breathing under control now that I was stopped long enough to notice and it was like trying to hush gasping, most likely caused from panic just as much as exertion. Beast-like snarls and groans could be heard passing beneath me, but I just closed my eyes with my head rested against the trunk of the tree I was sitting against and tried to concentrate on taking long steadier breaths.

Breathe Olive, breathe. Just fucken look at me and breathe, baby.

I silently sobbed while leaning back my weary head, utterly spent as I listened to the memory of Todd's voice soothe me while I waited for Biters to pass the tree. Everything had happened so fast, but it was not like I hadn't expected everything that had came at me this afternoon. I couldn't help but let my lips silently part as I restrained my weeping with only shaking shoulders to indicate I was sobbing. Drenched in Biter blood, I undetected as the dead shuffled passed my refuge, still trying to pursue the scent of living flesh.



About an hour later, it seemed south of the forest was for the most part cleared of Biters. Having set them loose on the north, I thought of all the already dead squirrels, rabbits, and possums that I'd sacrificed to bide me more time were probably being engorged by now. Having rested enough to go through with the rest of what I'd planned to accomplish for the day, I eased down from the tree I'd sought coverage in and relocated myself back to the exposed forest floor. It amused me to recognize how comfortable I'd become up in the height of a tree; I lived more like a jungle cat the more nights I slept up in the treetops, ate and carried food up amongst the cover of leaves, and even used the branches to hold my supplies. I hurried to return back to the shopping center before the Biters wandered back to their familiar place of existence, they would only search for my living scent for so long before realizing it was gone if they weren't distracted to move on to something else. Keeping my bow in hand as I ran back to the buildings, I readied to take out any remaining Biters and was determined to survive this pain in the ass supply run. Again I ran through the side-alley I had used earlier to catch the nearby dead's attention, scanning my surroundings with my bow and a recovered arrow from earlier ready to pull back the pulleys to serve any targets. All sounded quiet as I slunk through the alley, my middle and index fingers lightly drawing up on the bow string as I approached the end of the block to get a better look at the center of gathered stores. What my focus was mainly trained on was the Big 5 outlet I made sure to locate myself next to- it was the only store likely to still have ammunition, maybe even new arrows for my bow, or hopefully clothes for when I would be in need of new ones soon.

Only seeing a hand full of left behind Biters, I wasted little time disposing of them while still keeping myself hidden behind the remaining building at the end of the alley. Some were just amputee Biters that hadn't left because they couldn't, but remembering the last corpse that had crawled after me, I didn't spare them any arrows through the brain. After knocking off the few weak emaciated Biters, I walked out from behind the building to quickly retrieve my arrows before jogging towards my destination, keeping one to nock in the bow as I anticipated a few more stragglers and shoved the rest back into the half zippered bag. I beelined it as quietly as my knock off Doc Martens's would allow towards the store's doors. From my previous visits, I knew the electricity had been cut off to disable what used to be automatic slide doors, yet there were no longer any first set of doors but broken glass everywhere I stepped around the entrance of the store. Wiggling my fingers between the second pair of doors still intact, I spread them apart enough to slide my body through before pushing it back shut behind me. There was even more glass to step over as it seemed people had previously broken open display cases all over while probably ransacking the store when the epidemic began to occur. I cringed every time my boots cracked over broken shards of glass sprinkled across the carpet, worrying me attracting any remaining Biters hidden in the aisles. I winced every time I faintly felt a shard imbed under my heel, concerned for the state of my boots lasting through spring after pulling out all these pieces of glass later from my luckily thick soles. When past the initial entrance, I scanned the aisles that surprisingly only harbored two undead that were so flesh-starved they could barely pick themselves up and only reach longingly for me. People infected and probably locked themselves in to escape from the outside I guessed, little to know they'd be locking themselves in permanently. Sparing them any more starvation, I lopped off their heads with two flourishing swings of my sickle and stomped down on their still chattering heads with one of my glass embedded boots.

Looking throughout the store, I wasted little time in looking through Big 5's hunting section. To my disappointment but not surprised, all ammunition from the displays were stripped bare, as well as the wall that should've held up several models of guns for purchase. Slinking through the back door behind the counters leading to the store's inventory, I wasted little time checking if the stockroom was clear before ripping into sealed boxes to examine what supplies hadn't been looted at the start of the outbreak. I only found a few things even worth taking up space in my bag among the storage of miscellaneous sport products, like a few water containers, packs of gloves, binoculars, a box of microwaveable mini popcorns, and box matches. There was at least a few bricks left of rounds but only one with calibers I could actually use in my rifle, I decided to take them all anyways in case I ever came across another gun I could use them for in the future. I made my way back to the sale's floor, making sure to keep an eye out on several bodies laid around the racks, most were chewed bare by now and left only skeletons with rotten tattered faces. I assumed these had once been people just as panicked as I had been when the deceased began preying upon all living population- everyone had scrambled crazily for any means of survival. Many of the living were taken out in the first days of the worldwide genocide, and those who remained were left to loiter off what was left behind. Ignoring my sympathy, I tried to remember that this was a different world now. Fuck you nausea, get over it.

A few energy bars, some hydration gums, AAA batteries, some cracker jack's and snickers were about the most I found strewn about the aisles as I continued through the store. This place had been picked clean. There were still a few small tents left on the shelves, unzipping the bags I discarded the tarps and collected the tension rods that could prove for sturdy fletching shafts. A lot of clothing still seemed to hang off the racks I noticed while scanning briefly through the hangers, snatching a few sweat pants, a men's jacket still hanging, and as many t-shirts I could stuff in my bag before engorging it. However, still hanging off a shelf was a black bag I couldn't help but admire for its ginormity. Jumping and swiping it off its display hook; I ripped out the cardboard linings and balled it together as tightly as possible to add to my collection of randomness. Not spotting anything else essential to take, I ripped off the remaining shirts and bathing suits left off the racks and hangers that I deemed useless in frustration. This whole supply run had been for a few granola bars and some fucking clothes. I had to conceal my disappointed temper- I'd have time to vent later. Doing a double-check of the store, I was going to accept there was nothing else left to scavenge off in this Big 5 when I came across a corpse smashed through one of the display cases towards the back of the store. The center of its face was completely concaved in by someone most likely having bashed its head through the glass case people had picked bear. It was just another rotting carcass, its blood already dried and stenching up the store, nothing of the unusual until my gaze caught a utility belt still hanging from its waist. To my discovery, whoever this person had been seemed to have gotten a hold of a few hand grenades and from the look of their clothing, there were no indications this person was even military. Not a very accurate way of dispatching Biters, but I decided why the hell not and crouched down to unclasp the belt from around the deceased's body. Buckling it around my hips to rest with my sickle, it made me a little uneasy at the small explosives attached so closely but I had to conserve as much room in my bag as I could. What difference would an explosion be on my waist or over my back anyways?

Other than coming up on the grenades, I had no luck finding much more supplies here and regrettably determined this was as much as I'd be able to strip from this store. I slipped back outside the doors as quietly as I'd came. Having only spent maybe a half hour looking through the desolate store, I still had a lot more time to kill than I had anticipated. I looked up to the only remaining store that could have anything useful still. With only a Vietnamese restaurant, a vintage now-almost-completely-broken-pottery boutique, and a deserted barber shop with all its windows already bashed in; the Babies Forever outlet seemed to be the only store of value at this point. I had disregarded this store, choosing to almost ignore it in favor for the Big 5 I had convinced myself this whole time would have much more essential supplies and assumed I wasn't going to have enough time to look through the infant's store after having to carry back all the provisions I would've gathered from the sporting goods store. Sighing, I chewed on my lip before I made up my mind that I better hurry if I was going to go through with it. As I begun to make my way for the store, about a quarter of the way there, a rumbling of an engine echoed from the highway. Without turning around to look, I instead leapt into the nearest store's side alley to hide and only allowed myself to freeze in fright once I was concealed from sight. I heard more rumbling from the highway getting closer, recognizing what I knew to be the sound of multiple cars traveling together. Sure enough, I could hear several vehicles pull off the road and into the shopping center's parking lot disconnected only right off the highway. Always having been wary of the disadvantage the shopping complex brought being so close to the off ramp, it pissed me off this situation was actually happening. Cursing under my breath, I looked down briefly and glimpsed my hands grasping my bow so tightly my knuckles were turning white with the lack of circulation. Willing myself to loosen my grip, I felt my mind spinning a mile per second gathering what I was going to do to get out of this one. There was no way I could expose myself, especially not knowing- or knowing who these people could be. I kept my back pressed against the building, willing my breaths to remain quiet while I listened to car doors opening and closing. They were obvious in their footsteps, unafraid of being detected almost.

"Well, well, wellllll boys!"

Feeling my stomach plummet like a disconnected elevator, I lightly thanked the back of my head against the wall I'd been leaning against in exasperation at my luck. Recognizing that voice anywhere, it was exactly who I had feared it was. Slowly I peeked around the corner of the building to see the group of trucks and SUV's parked not far from the men having arrived in them. Sure enough, at the head of the pack that I might as well have called wolves, the tall one-handed man of my nightmares stood observing my handiwork.

"Lookie here, Brownie." Taking notice to the other men brought along, I caught the familiar naturally tanned face of my old friend, holding his MP-5 at the ready while surveying over the left behind bodies of Biters he'd been called over to. I remembered a time Todd and I would have stood right beside the Salvadorian, our own arrows ready to back up his bullets. I continued to watch both men bend down to inspect the Biter I'd taken down earlier with one of my arrows still embedded through its head. Caesar took his backwards baseball cap off to run his hand across his head before putting it back on, a nervous tendency I knew of his, and felt an old tug at my heart for the friendship we used to share as I saw his troubled expression staring around the stores. It was immediately stifled when the blade-for-an-arm white trash pulled my arrow out of its head with his good hand and flicked it clean of brain matter before bringing it up to inspect, elicited a long obnoxious whistle.

"Looks like Todd's arrows if I ever seen em'." I whipped my head back from looking behind the alley and berated myself for not grabbing all my arrows out of the bodies I took out on the way inside the store. Christ, they knew I'd been here. Hearing the laughter he didn't bother to keep quiet, I bit the inside of my cheek to try and settle the broiling hate threatening to overflow from the center of my chest to the tips of my fingers already reaching for another arrow over my shoulder.

"Sure 'bout that? Any foo coulda' been out here shootin' up shit Merle," I could overhear Caesar inquire.

"Naaaahh, this here's our good Ol' Olive usin' her old man's shit- or tryin' to is more like it." My arrow was the worst thing Merle could have noticed, knowing very well he'd been on plenty of hunting trips and constructed just as many fletching with Todd to know who was around to leave it behind.

"I gotta hand it to ya' girlie," I could hear Merle call loudly, clearly seeing how fresh these kills were to know I was still in the vicinity. "With Popeye gone, you been lastin' longer than I gave ya' credit for."

There was the familiar squelch and pop of skulls and brains being impaled with a certain blade I suspected stabbing through heads as I heard footsteps on the pavement of the men beginning to scout around for me. Inch by silent inch, I began stepping backwards to prepare to try and make it back to the woods- it was my best shot.

"Gettin' sloppy though!" The more Merle taunted, the more I longed to confront the murderer like I had originally planned before there were other complications to live for. "Or desperation just makin' ya pick up on bad habits?"

As I made it to the end of the alley, I peeked out first to see if it was clear enough to make a run for it. There was one in the back patrolling my side of the building complex, taking turns to look around each crevice with his own kind of rifle clutched in his hands. Only a few blocks away, I didn't have long before he found me. But the closer he got the more I realized how young he was. Only a boy, probably barely in his twenties, shaking with the weight of the gun in his hands and fear that reflected pretty obviously as he walked unsure of himself. My conscious hitched within my chest at what I knew I was going to have to do. There was no way he wouldn't see me if I made a run for it and would have plenty of time to take a shot at me before I made it back to the forest. I could either take care of the kid or face Merle and the men discovering me on the other end of the alley. My attention was then drawn down to the five small grenades I had come up on earlier strapped around me. I had a lot to be running with as it was, might as well lose some of the baggage.

When I stepped out from behind the alley, the kid's attention was drawn a lot faster than I expected and caught me off guard with the loud shots fired from his rifle. In the time it took me to realize he had aimed unfortunately, my arrow had risen just as swiftly to fire off my own shot dead accurately, putting a halt to any debate. The shaft pierced directly through the boy's eye socket, ending his life very abruptly but I didn't wait to see the body fall before I bolting back to the forest. I know I heard shouting and shots being fired, but when I unclipped and yanked the pin out from one of the grenades to throw behind me, all sound was practically muted from the ringing in my ears. Even though it felt like my ear drums were throwing off all equilibrium from the continuous buzzing, I threw two more as far as I could over my shoulder while still running to make a break for the trees. I could faintly distinguish their machine guns firing and see the tree’s bark go flying in splinters as bullets pelted the treeline, but I just kept sprinting. I always told them fully automatics were shit.

I don't know how long I ran, the piercing ring eventually eased and I could finally try to distinguish where I was running. Suspicious of why I hadn't run far enough into the Biter's I had driven north until I heard a scream instead of shouts. "Fuck- Biters!" I heard someone call out. But I just continued to flee until my legs threatened to buckle from under me and my sides began pinching so tightly I could barely limp. Having zig-zagged around the whole goddamn forest it felt, I could still hear the group but now accompanied with the guttural growls of the dead swarming to the explosions like bees returning to the hive.

Merle was a country man, but I knew he was no where near as skilled at tracking as Todd- and he'd been a good teacher. Taking what chances I had, I halted in my tracks, turning to the nearest tree and I scraped my fingers and nails across the already loose bark like some kind of wild beast leaving its mark, kicking and scuffing at a few more surrounding trunks with my boots. Satisfied it was enough to question if someone had climbed up the torn up trees, I scurried to back track over my imprints across the dirt floor quickly but as accurately as I could position my feet. My head whirled back and forth looking for the hunters after my blood, living and dead, like the cornered animal I was becoming until settling on a tree I deemed thick enough to support me. Hastily I untied my boot laces as fast as my fingers could pull free the knots and kicked them off to throw in my bag, not bothering with such little time to zip it completely closed. In only socks, I heaved my way up the tree's trunk, trying to be light enough on my toes by using most of my upper body strength to pull up and keep from dislodging the bark. It unnerved me to climb higher than I usually ventured, aware that if any mishap caused me to fall I would tumble to my death or wish I had with the severity of the injuries I would sustain from being at this height. There was one branch I spotted a few more yards up above that extended out enough to intersect with another tree's cluster of branches. With only a moment to consider by options, I could hear Merle's voice beginning to sound closer. Fuck it, I went for it. Not wasting any more time, I continued to haul myself up while still trying to dislodge as little evidence that could be found from the forest floor. My shoulders shook tiredly as they endured the brunt of my weight added with the exhaustion I was already suffering from while I heaved my body up enough to wrap my knees around the next branch. Eventually, I flipped myself over onto the bridge-like branch and sighed as my arms and shoulders ached and begged to rest. I pushed myself up on my feet and ignored the shake of my legs in need to stop, using the trunk of the tree for support to keep from staggering over. It felt like I was kept functioning on pure adrenaline at this point as I absorbed everything from an almost out-of-body, disconnected state. My neck felt like it was a badly rusted hinge as it was difficult to just jerk my gaze around to decide how I was going to cross the long extension of tree. Practically holding my breath so it wouldn't shake me right off this branch, I crouched low with both arms extended at my sides as I began to step forward. My first few paces tettered as I tried to get a feel for balancing myself with a heavy bag full of supplies too. I willed my body to relax while my toes clung to the birch through my socks, my balance settled and I was able to walk with a bit more speed. I didn't pay attention to my progress but stayed completely concentrated on keeping my balance until I began to feel the strength of the branch thinning as I reached close enough to its end.

If I wasn't so affrighted I would have sobbed at realizing I was going to have to jump further than anticipated to reach the closest branch. It's either this or to the wolves, I thought to goad myself on. You've got to be strong. My knees bent as my calves prepared themselves, my fingers even digging into the branch I steadied myself on before propelling myself forward. Just reaching high enough my arms caught the branch, but as I struggled to pull my legs up, a part of the exterior bark my hand had gripped over was loose and ripped right off the branch. My legs fell back when I scrambled to grab a better hold of the tree, all my weight relying on my one arm before I could grab back on with both. The branch was being shaken around from my struggling, causing leaves and more loose bark to fall from the tree, but all I could feel was the stinging in my hands as they were beyond scratched and scraped from my clinging. It felt as though my temples were about to protrude completely through my head at how hard my teeth were clenched together while I quickly tried to recover and pull myself up. Once I was finally face down on my new tree's branch, I had to think of Merle possibly finding my scuffle of torn apart birch to get me up and looking for the next tree's entry way.

Like a goddamn monkey, I jumped tree to tree, putting as much distance away from where my last tracks would be. Get away. Get away. Get away. It was the only mantra of thoughts drumming through my head as I remained numb to the scratches I'd received along my neck and face while tumbling through the treetop's bramble. Blood was everywhere; on my hands, in my fingernails, stained to my pants, and clumped in my hair. I could even feel it dried to my face as it cracked along the creases of my skin. There was no telling which could be mine or Biter blood. It wasn't until there were no longer any thick enough nearby trees did I stop climbing. Curling myself against the tree trunk I had settled in, I was too afraid to look down. Too scared at seeing how high I'd gone or any of the men looking right back up at me. More gun fire rung out through the woods and shouting startled me in my hiding spot.

"...I outta smash yer goddamn teeth in for wastin' bullets like that!" I distinctly heard Merle holler in the distance.

"She killed him! That bitch killed Chris-"

"I don't giva' shit 'bout your worthless spic brother," he all but roared over someone sounding like they were sobbing.

"Merle! We gotta go!"

"Now cus of that shit stunt, you gun' let that bitch who kill ya' kin get away." I knew Merle's infuriation was not for avenging this boy's brother and I could feel him seethe irascibly the more I was able to escape capture.

"How long ya gun keep this up Olive-oil?" Merle called louder this time to mock, probably trying to provoke a rise out of me and reveal myself. "Gun' pick off all us one by one?"

Biter groans could be heard approaching closer, but that didn't seem to effect Merle's rant.

"I'm shakin' in mah boots of them lil sticks and string ya' got set up," he all but cackled hysterically. "After everythan', you know that ain't how you gun' kill Ol' Merle now. C'mon, not gunna try'ta make me walk the plank with cap's hook I know ya' got?"

I would've loved more than anything to go toe-to-toe with Merle's attached blade and Todd's sickle, to amputate that ugly motherfucker's whole arm this time. But I had to do my part and stay silent amongst the treetops.

"Cus I know ya' haven' started missin' that puffer a' yours yet?" Remaining motionless, I knew his jibes were just a distraction while he searched me out. Then Merle added with intentional spite, "Don' got Todd ta' nurse ya through them breathin' episodes of yours no more. Or anymore lil' girls to throw in fronta' ya-"

"Shut the fuck up, man! Merle we gotta bounce," it was Caesar this time, thankful for his somewhat better judgment in the resource team.

"You just take my word on this bitch. I'ma burn this whole damn forest down, and if that lil' cunt a' your's ain't burnt up by the time I find ya, you bes' believe this here sharp hand a' mine'll be shoved up it." I grimaced at Merle's vulgarity, recognizing his amusement of our chase was gone.

Finally I could hear the group retreat from the woods, no more gunshots as I'd imagine they were trying to avoid attracting any more pack of Biters. Releasing my breath I hadn't even realized I'd been holding, my body sagged in relief at eluding the living. Yet again. Now I remained silent while the hoard of Biters passed through, shaking the tree every now and again from knocking into the trunk as they limped by, some stopping briefly enough to sniff suspiciously but I was high enough to be well out of Biter sight, so none ever lingered too long.

The other bags were stored up one of my marked trees just west of the shopping center, having emptied out the one I'd taken with me to stuff with supplies for the run. Safe and out of sight, but useless to me here as it seemed I'd be stranded for the rest of the night by the looks of the sky already darkening. Eventually I started looking through my bag and pulled out a couple of energy bars I'd picked up from the store, my fingers trembled so tiredly I had to struggle to just tear open the wrapping. Sighing from the sensations of feeling sugar replenish my body as I bit off a generous chunk, the granola cherry flavor never tasted more nourishing and I had to refrain from scarfing down the whole bar in seconds. After the first, I wasted no time in ripping open the other granola wrapping and moved on to my second. While I concentrated on eating this one slower, I thought how I couldn't allow this starvation to continue. I sacrificed arrows, risked being eaten by the dead and captured by the living. And most importantly, I had spent a tremendous amount of my strength on the supply run that I'd barely salvaged much from, I thought when the adrenaline wore off and I began to feel the full wave of exhaustion take over my body. I could have cost myself dearly for a little more than nothing. There was a time I would have embraced the possibility of death, just as long as I took as many dead bastards as I could down with me. Now there was a last little life-force keeping me rooted to continue my struggle for survival.

If it was my subconscious or if it was God gently reminding me, I'll never know, but something brought my hand to rest over my stomach. After months in denial, I could no longer ignore the protruding evidence of my growing abdomen tightening my waistbands or the sudden hypersensitive nausea I'd become wracked with. I have five more months to spend preparing myself for this accidental life that was thrust upon me into this barbaric world with nothing but humanity's monstrosities to engulf anything else left behind. And I had no fucking idea how I was going to survive this pregnancy. Despite bringing down a whole new level of hardships I would now expect to face during these months, this being was the last bit of fire that flickered within me. We gotta just keep carrying the fire.

Back when Todd was alive, he had this inferno in his eyes that I learnt a new strength from. When times had been the hardest running, starving, and dying, it was impossible to cope while constantly escaping what seemed were imminent deaths became pointless to me after so long. We were living day-to-day on gambles and chances just to watch our lives ripped apart at the drop of a pen, to just rebuild ourselves from scratch time and again, from the destruction those dead and still alive brought upon us. The last of my resolve had just about smothered out, but Todd refused to let me concede and was revolted by my hints of self-immolation so I could at least dispense being his burden. That was when he had passed his own torch on to me. When he told me about keeping my fire, I hadn't understood at the time while too absorbed in my own numbness, but it wasn't until I began seeing the blue blaze in Todd's eyes as he became feral in his protection, did I comprehend the fire he carried. He had not been ready to fold his hand just yet, so I stayed to play so he didn't have to continue on his own. How fuckin' ironic was that shit. Todd had such a flame about him that when he never came back I was left swallowed in almost complete darkness. Now with child, I had to will myself to keep not just one fire ablaze anymore.

"Fuck you," I breathed, still so upset and embittered at everyone and everything that deserted me in this world. Fuck Todd for knocking me up and letting himself get killed. Fuck Merle for being the backstabbing murderer I knew he really was. Fuck Caesar for being so weak to obey whatever order Philip, his precious Governor, condoned. And fuck this baby. Mine and Todd's relationship had been contaminated beneath the surface for quite some time before the world corroded in on itself; the growing distance towards one another had originated over a disagreement over children which made this whole situation seem almost spiteful. When we were in out mid-twenties and our budding companionship started to become intimate, I had informed Todd that I had no desire to have children, and at the time he had been open to understanding my reasons. Yet somehow after four years of us in a place I'd become perfectly content with, it seemed shortly after moving to Georgia, Todd became instilled with some restless insistence to steer us in a direction I'd already confessed I was extremely wary of. I don't know if he assumed I would eventually warm to the idea of a family, or whatever had concluded his reasoning, and had acted wounded when I remained firm on keeping the door shut on having any kids. I had never been sure what triggered his sudden emotion for a baby and I'd spent weeks feeling guilty and confused by Todd's sudden cold contriteness towards me. While I was engrossed in work and juggling bills, we found ourselves with so little in common anymore and it sparked resentful behavior between the two of us that caused us to blurt things out to one another we'd never intended to admit before. Todd had never completely settled with our move from California, but I was about to be laid off and we couldn't afford to live comfortably on just Todd's construction work. When I was suggested a position in Atlanta by my sympathetic supervisor that even paid better, I regrettably put Todd in the position to either come with me or lose me. In the beginning I'd been so relieved Todd chose to leave with me, it had been new and enticing to integrate our lives together in another state across the country, yet we hadn't anticipated it to take so long for Todd to find another job and the pressure of all the financial responsibility had been put dependently on me. This was also another initiation of cracks in our relationship when my increasing frustration stirred Todd to begrudgingly vocalize his blame towards me for leaving his work, his friends, and family. It seemed that even though this world was now colored with crimson and chaos, I had at least been quietly gifted with another chance to repair the love that had become so brittle between us. We just had each other to keep alive. The world went to shit and left us to see how insignificant everything else had been compared to one another.

And now, that I was left alone, Todd finally got what he'd wanted.

"Well here's your fucking family," I snarled to no one. "Where the fuck are you now?"

I still carried a fire, and it burnt away the anguish to engulf my heart in a smoldering animosity.