Dearly Departed

He stared into the fire, watching the flames lash out of the small pit he had made from brick. His frosty eyes slowly lifted and he sighed softly, poking at the fire with a tire iron. The fire popped and crackled, allowing a few embers to raise into the air. Within moments the vanished into thin air and the young man looked back down. Letting out a breath, he rubbed the back of his neck and pulled gently at the blonde strands that felt greasy from his sweat. It had been a very long, hot day and he hadn’t showered or anything in almost a week.

He knew it was almost time to get on the move again. His time was coming to an end, his welcome was over. For the past two months he’d been scavenging around the outskirt of the fallen city of London. He couldn’t believe how long it had been already. No electricity, no running water, barely any food, and no transportation. The entire city had been left to decay and rot away—just like the people. Once thriving and beautiful, London had become a mere skeleton filled with the worst type of monsters—the living dead.

Grabbing another small branch, Niall Horan tossed it into the fire. The flames quickly engulfed it and light gray smoke rose into the air. His frosty blue eyes watched the smoke swirl and twist, fading up into the large hole in the ceiling. A gentle breeze came through the gaping hole and Niall looked up at the silver moon, beaming in and giving the room an iridescent glow. Tomorrow morning he would try to find some final supplies and leave the city, he had no choice anymore. The longer he waited, the lower his chances of survival became.

The sound of groaning and growling filled his ears. Running his fingers through his shaggy blond locks, Niall stood up from the lawn chair he had dragged into the old firehouse he was staying in. He walked over to a darker section of the room and right where the light ended, he crouched down. Biting his chapped lips, Niall watched as something moved in the dark shadows. For the past several days, this had been the normal thing for the young man. He would sit in the dark, talking with the monsters that haunted the area. Swallowing, Niall was about to say something, but fell silent went the biter lashes out at him.

Pulling back a little as the monster stretched out it’s boney fingers, Niall closed his eyes and sighed heavily. Leathery, grey wrinkled skin, foggy eyes, black gums, and blood stained clothes; this was Niall’s older brother. The biter’s jaw opened and closed, the echoing of teeth clattering filling the room. It was a terrible sound, but Niall had become used to it the past two months. He shook his head and watched as his undead brother, who smelled of rotting meat and decay, growled and tried to bite at him.

“Greg,” Niall muttered softly as he sat down on the ground, cross-legged. He knew it was wrong to keep his brother chained up to a wall, but he just couldn’t seem to say goodbye either. “Do you even remember me anymore?” the blond asked in a heavy Irish accent.

The biter was staring at Niall, lips curling back, showing rotting teeth. The malevolence in the monster’s eyes were almost too much for Niall to bear. For the past three weeks, Niall had debated on killing his brother. He wanted his pain and suffering to end; he wanted to stop the ravenous hunger his brother felt.

“Can you understand me?” Niall asked.

The biter snarled, a bloody dribble of spit sliding down his cheek. Niall looked away in hopelessness and reached for the tire iron he had placed on the ground. He knew he could end it all, do it quickly and just carry on for as long as he could—just like his brother wanted him to do.

“I can’t do this without you, Greg,” Niall choked out, feeling the tears brimming. “I know what you would be telling me right now.”

The biter sniffed the air and opened and closed his jaw, the sharp sound of teeth chattering together caused Niall to shiver.

“You’d tell me,” Niall paused and looked at his brother, “you would tell me to live, but who wants to live a life alone?” he questioned his older brother softly.

The biter slowly tilted his head, almost as though he was trying to make sense of what Niall was saying. It was things like that that made Niall believe his brother was still inside, even though he had been dead for three months now.

“You’re gone though, aren’t you?” Niall asked sadly, shaking his head in disappointment. “I have to do this on my own. You’re just a body now, driven by endless hunger. I’m sorry that this happened to you.” A single tear slipped from Niall’s eye and he stood up.

The biter reached out to him, wanting to tear him apart and rip the flesh from his bones. Niall gripped the tire iron tightly in his hand, watching his brother growl and snap at him. He choked out a sob and closed his eyes, letting his head fall between his shoulders. Taking in a deep breath, Niall looked back open and slowly opened his eyes. Greg was still reaching out to him, eyes clouded by pain, anger, and hunger. Pressing his lips together, Niall fought back his sobs and tears.

“Goodbye,” Niall whispered as he grabbed his brother’s shoulder and pushed him back against the wall. When his brother bumped into the wall, Niall lifted the tire iron and slammed it into his brother’s temple.

The biter went limp and fell silent.


Harry wasn’t sure what he was thinking when he let the two girls stay in his apartment. He had told himself that he wouldn’t get involved with anyone. For about four months that had worked quite well, but earlier this afternoon he just acted. He didn’t think about it, he didn’t waste anytime, he simply saved the two girl’s lives. His green eyes drifted over to the two girls that were sleeping in the living room. Pressing his lips together, Harry let out a soft sigh and ventured over to the door of the apartment.

“Wait,” a tired voice came and Harry stopped, glancing over at the two girls. “I want to ask you something.” It was Rose and she was getting up from where she had been sleeping on the floor. Running her fingers through her hair, Rose walked over to Harry.

He didn’t say a word, he just opened the door and walked outside with Rose right behind him. When Rose was out, he quietly shut the door and walked over to the edge of the stairwell that viewed the gloomy city of London. Harry rested his arms on the railing of the stairs and licked his lips.

He had found out that the two girls were sisters and they had been looking for supplies the other evening. Apparently they had been in London since the start of the plague and now they were going to leave. Harry hated to admit it, but he knew he’d need to leave soon too. After seeing that massive hoard the other day, it just made it clear that the city was overrun. Food was getting harder to find, there weren’t many safe places anymore, and it wasn’t like they were going to be rescued. Whatever this plague was, it had wiped out a good amount of the world’s population.

“That woman,” Rose began and Harry glanced at her, “why did you shoot her?”

Harry let out a breath. “She wouldn’t have survived.”

“Neither would my sister and I, so why did you save us?” Rose shot at him, eyeing him curiously. He intrigued her, she couldn’t deny he was a big question mark to her. Harry was quiet and distant, hardly seeming to want anything to do with herself or Zoey. Typically, Rose didn’t mind, but she could understand his reasoning for saving them—not that he gave them a reason in the first place. “You could have let us to die or shot us down like the other woman, so why?” Rose asked and walked beside him, staring at his profile for what seemed like hours.

“I don’t know,” Harry answered truthfully. He really wasn’t sure why he saved them, maybe somewhere deep down inside he still had hope. Wasn’t that in human nature, to hope even if all hope was lost? After four months of being alone, Harry had grown tired of it. Anyone could have seen that the woman in the street was never going to make it. She was completely surrounded on all sides. No one could have saved her from that, so Harry did the most humane thing.

“How long have you been here?” Rose asked with a tilt of her head. Her hair fell from behind her ear and she quickly brushed it back. “You’re packing some pretty heavy artillery in there.” She gestured to the apartment door a few steps away and leaned against the wall.

“Like you, since the start,” Harry answered her in a gruff voice. “I can’t stay much longer though. The herds are getting bigger.” He shook his head and ran his fingers through his dark curly locks.

“That’s what my sister says,” Rose sighed, looking down at the concrete ground. “Taking chances out on the road doesn’t seem much better than this.” She pushed off the wall and walked over to the first step of the stairs and took a seat.

“You’d rather stay here?” Harry asked, intrigued by her sentiments. The tone of her voice, her body language, and attitude all suggested that she had lost all hope. He couldn’t blame her for that though, sometimes he felt like he’d lost all hope too. Somehow though, it always came screaming back at him. Harry didn’t want to die; he wanted to live.

“What if a herd is out there too? Then what?” Rose questioned, leaning against the rails. “What if we get sick? What if we break a bone?”

“If you get sick or break a bone, you’re just as dead in the city as you are out there,” Harry pointed out simply, gesturing to the wilderness that could be seen in the distance. “It comes down to preference really.” He slouched a bit where he stood and looked down the stairs.

“I guess you’re right,” Rose said dejectedly. “Two people will never make it by themselves.”

Harry smirked and looked over at Rose. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that was an invitation.”

Rose blinked a few times and looked up at the grinning man. She scoffed and stood up, dusting off her jeans. “It wasn’t,” she assured him with a shake of her head. “I was stating a fact.” She shrugged her shoulders and bit her lip, meeting his green gaze.

“Well if you don’t want me to go, I know someone who could,” Harry mentioned and Rose raised a brow at him. “He’s been planning on leaving for just about as long as I have.” Pushing off the railing, Harry placed his hands on his hips and looked at Rose.

She was one interesting girl, the fire in her eyes were flickering unsure of whether it should burn or go out. Her sister, Zoey, was the exact opposite—she believed they could survive. Harry had to admit, he was a little jealous of her optimism. By no means did he think he couldn’t survive, but he just didn’t have that passion to keep him believing. In some ways he was a lot like Rose.

“Then why haven’t you both left?” Rose inquired, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Same reasons as you I guess.” Harry shrugged his shoulders and let his arms hang at his sides. He looked down at his tattered up sneakers and torn jeans. Sometimes he could hear his mother scolding him for looking like such a mess, but it was the end of the world, so he felt he was within his rights. “Two wouldn’t last as long as a larger group of four or five.”

“Strength in numbers,” Rose concluded and Harry nodded his head. “I’m afraid to go out there, we’ve lasted so long here.”

“To what end?” Harry pressed. “It’s only a matter of time.”

Rose was about to say something, but the apartment door came open. The two standing outside both looked to Zoey as she stood in the door way. She smiled weakly and stepped out, quietly closing the door. Her lips were chapped, her hair was messy, and her clothes a little disheveled. She looked between the two of them and sighed softly.

“What’s going on?” Zoey asked, looking to Rose and then to Harry.

“We’re leaving the city,” Harry answered. “First we have to find someone.”

“Seriously?” Zoey asked in surprise and looked to Rose. “I’ve been trying to get you to leave for the past two weeks. How does this stranger, no offense Harry, get you to agree so quickly?” She wasn’t really complaining, she just couldn’t understand how Harry—the boy the meet less than twenty-four hours ago—had convinced Rose that they needed to leave the city.

“We stand a better chance with two others, that’s the only reason,” Rose assured her sister with a shrug. “So let’s head to our place, get the last of our supplies, and go get this person Harry is talking about.”

Zoey looked to Harry and he smiled weakly at her. “I like you already,” Zoey admitted with a small chuckle. “You bring out the Rose I remember.”


Niall placed one final rock on his brother’s grave and wiped the sweat from his brow. He had made a small cross out of some old boards he’d found behind the firehouse. Picking up the cross, Niall smiled as he looked at his brother’s name. He’d carved it in with his pocket knife earlier in the morning. Kissing his finger tips, Niall pressed his fingers onto his brother’s name before going to hammer the cross into the dirt.

“Watch over me, Greg,” Niall said as he took a step back, staring down at his brother’s grave. He let out a breath and slipped on his cap to block out some of the harsh noon sun. It was going to be another hot day. Whispering one last farewell, Niall walked over to the firehouse door where his pack and weapons were lying.

Kneeling down, Niall decided to check his inventory once more before heading out of the city. Opening up his bag, Niall reached in and found his brother’s pistol. It was fully loaded and he still had a carton of bullets—those would go fast, though. He studied the pistol for a moment and was about to put it down when he heard the sound of a snapping branch. Niall stood quickly and held the gun in front of him, his finger on the trigger.

“Hey!” a curly haired man shouted, holding his hands up in defense. “Relax.”

Niall slowly lowered his weapon and tucked it into his jeans. “Long time no see,” Niall said, once he realized that it was Harry. They had met almost a month ago while raiding a gas station. Niall had saved his life and they talked for a while before going their separate ways. “What are you doing here?” the blond asked. His blue eyes moved to the bushes by the hole in the fence when two more people came into his view.

“I’m leaving the city,” Harry explained. “I thought I’d extend the invitation.”

Niall’s eyes were on the two girls that came up beside Harry. He’d never seen them before, but they appeared to be harmless. While traveling, Niall had seen some harsh things and not just by the living dead. He’d seen people kill others for supplies, so he didn’t normally take to people easily.

“You said you’ve been wanting to leave,” Harry began, “here’s your chance mate.” His green eyes were boring into Niall’s blue ones. Glancing over to the two girls, they both smiled weakly at Niall and nodded to him.

“Where’d you find them?” Niall asked, gesturing to the two girls.

“This is Rose and her sister Zoey,” Harry introduced. “I saved them from a hoard. This place isn’t safe anymore.”

Niall looked down at the ground and turned around. He grabbed his pack and zipped it up before slinging it onto his shoulder. Reaching down, Niall grabbed his black, sleek compound bow and looked at Harry. “Where are we heading?” he asked with a weak smile. “I’m Niall.”

“Anywhere, but here,” Harry said, grabbing the strap of his rifle. He turned to look at the girls and they both nodded to him. “Let’s go.”