Survivors can only watch humankind dwindle to extinction.
They fight to protect their loved ones, to reach sanctuary, to keep their sanity as civilization is destroyed around them, never knowing if their next breath will be their last.
Will the person they fought beside soon be a flesh-hungry corpse, or even worse, their own prey?
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So loud. It feels like it’s coming from inside my own head.
I cover my ears with my hands, pulling my knees up to my chest, trying to block out the whole world for a moment. I just need to think. I don’t know what to do about her, I really don’t. I can’t just do nothing. She isn’t right, however much I try to convince myself otherwise. I have to accept the truth. I have to admit that whatever is behind that door isn’t my cousin. Not anymore. But that doesn’t make this any easier.
When I found her, outside the door collapsed and covered in blood, I completely freaked out, what if she had this thing, the illness? I had to block out all my deep-rooted fears about catching the disease while I carried her in and cleaned her off. I didn’t have any choice, did I?
There’s no one else left—as far as I’m aware, anyway. I don’t even know how she got here. Was she heading this way on purpose, coming to see me? Or was it simply a coincidence that it’s my door she passed out in front of? I left her to sleep. She slept for days. She slept for so long I started to fear that I was too late, that she was already dead. Then, there was movement. I heard her get up out of the bed and move about the room. I waited. I didn’t talk for fear of what she might say, for fear of learning what had truly happened to her.
Day to day.
Minute to minute.
One moment she would be speaking, albeit very slurred and stilted words that I could never really understand. The next I’d just hear screaming and smashing, as things would be thrown around in a violent rage. It was terrifying. Now, I’d give anything for that emotion. Now all I can hear is growling, moaning, shuffling. And banging.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
I fear she’s going to bring that flimsy door down soon, making my decision for me. I’m not ready for that, not yet. I’ve already lost too many people. She might be the only one I have left.