Daylight Savings. [Private 1x1]

"Excuse me, but being dramatic is perfectly acceptable when you're royalty." Laughing once again, she closed her eyes for a few moments. Her ankle had begun to throb a little bit harder, trying not to let it bring her down, reality was nagging at the fragile situation she and her new companion has just formed. Shoving the pain away, she looked up again when she heard the word princess.


"Well I'd be much more impressed if you addressed me correctly," sighing loudly and pointing at him accusingly, "I, good sir, am a Queen."


Turning the playful look in to one of normal happiness she gave him a genuine smile. Pulling her hair away from her back and over her left shoulder she saw his hand extend out to her. Knowing that leaning forward wasn't going to be enough, she pushed herself up slowly.


Limping weakly to close the gap, she held her hand out, "Well, perhaps not worth it, but I suppose I can survive." Grabbing his hand she shook it twice and let her hand sit in his and waited for him to pull his hand not wanting to seem rude. In the few seconds she had she looked at his eyes, in a normal situation she now had the opportunity to look through them and see what she could find. Not entirely sure of her findings she now knew that any hope of letting him leave without any hurt feelings was probably far from possible.


"Thank you, by the way," She was barely blushing but the sheepish looks in her eyes might have given her away, "I really do owe you... Well everything I suppose."
 
He found that he was staring into her eyes a bit longer than he intended, so he broke eye contact for a moment and stared at a patch of peeling wallpaper on the wall instead. When he heard her thank him, his eyes returned to hers and he tried to keep his face as straight and serious as possible. “Yeah, you do.”


Withdrawing his hand swiftly, he realized that he couldn’t keep eye contact with her and try to act at the same time. It was a train wreck. A smile cracked through his lips and he shook his head, staring at the floor. “I owe you. I mean, if you didn’t help me out in the beginning, I’d…” From there he left the sentence to fizzle out into nothing, trying not to think about what would’ve, could’ve happened if she didn’t. The thought of it brought back the sinking feeling in his stomach, but his expression turned into a scowl, mentally willing it all away and he looked at her again with his features softened again.


“Just…thanks. I mean, I guess a thanks doesn’t really go far in this world anymore, but it’s all I’ve got for now.” With a shrug he sighed. Then another question hit him. “Say…you really don’t look like you’ve been out in the midst of all this for very long. I mean, look at me.” He pointed down at his jeans, which were horribly ripped at the knees along with a few tears at the legs below, and his t-shirt not doing much better in terms of battle-wear. “Not saying you’re inexperienced, because oh God. But I’m just wondering how long you’ve been out and apart of all this.”
 
Listening to his voice, and then turning her attention to his clothes, she frowned.


"Well inexperienced is the best word I guess. I just recently left my house, a few hours out from here, I thought I could get some new supplies and well..." At the end her voice cracked. She felt terribly juvenile and somewhat idiotic now realizing the scope of how terribly her mission had went. Seeing his clothes compared to her's made her feel spoiled and even a bit arrogant. Her eyes flickered away and she limped towards the wardrobe slowly.


"My dad left me a while ago, and I ran out of supplies there, I needed to get more. So I ventured out. Thinking that I could handle it. A gun, martial arts, and the will to live... I thought it would be plenty." Looking at her dirtied clothes, matted down hair, and injured cheek she held the tears back. If she were going to survive this situation she would need to be a lot smarter then she had been. This was not a game, it was life or death, and relying on someone to save her every time she got in to a bad situation... Well she was better off dead.


She spoke again, however this time her voice was cold and flat.


"Once sunrise hits, we can move back to my house and head in the other direction the next day. It's only a few hours and if we leave by noon we'll be fine." Kneeling down to fix her ankle, she looked underneath the bandages. Swollen, purple, and throbbing she tied the bandage tighter, hoping that the lack of circulation would keep the pain away for as long as possible.
 
His eyes had moved over to the window while she was speaking, but he had listened attentively to everything she said. What she told him reminded of him when he had started out on his own, except for the father part. Why would her own flesh and blood leave her for dead in all this? He couldn’t see the reasoning behind it at all and his emotions split in two: pity for the girl, and a deep anger towards her neglectful father. Surely he understood that she would eventually put herself in danger once she ran out of supplies? He wanted to ask her what happened, but noticing that she looked upset enough already, he decided not to pry. “Well, for someone who wasn’t ‘prepared’…you didn’t do too bad.”


He gave her a half-hearted smile, but as soon as she mentioned going back to the house with her it faded away. He bit the inside of his lip. True, she saved his life and they both just got each other out of a life-threatening situation which he would never be able to thank her enough for. But it wasn’t in his nature to have a partner, and what if she ended up dying? Then her blood would be on his hands, too many people had died around him already as it was. That’s why he tried not to make any more emotional ties with anyone. Even though it might’ve been too late for that. As much as his mind and morals were screaming at him to leave her behind, he couldn’t. With her ankle like that, it would be a miracle if she could get away from any kind of attack, and hearing her tell him about her father just up and leaving her…could he really repeat what her father had done to her? Was he that kind of person?


His head was beginning to hurt from the internal struggle. He needed time to think. “Look, your ankle still looks pretty bad. Since one of us has to stand and watch the other, why don’t you get some rest for a few hours, then we‘ll switch. Give yourself a bit of a break.” He smiled at her again despite what he felt inside. It was perfect that way; her ankle would heal better, and he could think about what he wanted to do.
 
All she could bring herself to do was nod. Stepping on her ankle, pain ran up through her leg, but she ignored it. Once she got to the bed she removed the top sheet, it was covered in dust and grime, and she set it on the floor. Underneath was a thin sheet that was relatively clean. Keeping her back to the boy she stared helplessly at the ground.


Perhaps she should leave when he took his shift, or better yet, maybe he would leave her while she was sleeping. These types of ties weren't good for anyone, and survival was the most important thing right now.


Or was it?


He had saved her, kept her company, took care of her, and now tried to keep her safe. Shaking her head she reached into her pocket and pulled out a hair tie. Looking at the small black band, suddenly her vision went blurry, tears had emerged. Throwing her hair up in to a loose bun she picked up the sheet and slid herself underneath it. Coughing and rubbing her eyes she curled up in to a ball as tightly as she could, not caring how pathetic and childish she might look. All she wanted was to feel safe.


Feeling the exhaustion set in, it was probably only a few minutes before she had fallen asleep. The last thing she would remember when she woke up was the thought that crossed her mind;


Go away Nathan, and never turn back. We need survival, not friends.





Tears streamed from her eyes, and she closed them tightly, letting the exhaustion spread through her body like a sedative. Soon her body language relaxed and her chest moved evenly up and down, showing that she had finally fallen prey to sleep.
 
(My turn to timeskip right before sunrise! Hope that’s alright. :})


Every time he thought that he would have the decision right, but then he would second-guess himself and end up right back at square one. Even with around six hours of sleep, with him and her taking turns on the watch, even when his mind was fairly clear of exhaustion, he still could not make a concrete decision. He was always indecisive way before the infection started spreading, but never for this long had a decision plagued him.


His forehead was plastered to the dirty window glass, his eyes staring at the ground below where the infected had walked a few hours earlier. Now that the sky was turning into lighter shades of blue, the majority of them were most likely making their way back to their homes, their little patch to slumber in until nightfall would come around again. The stench of death and rotting decay had dissipated, but he still had a look of antipathy etched into his face that had nothing to do with the infected. Staring at all the abandoned buildings, the cars that were ditched by their owners whether they ran out of gas or were running from something, feeling the lifelessness in the air…it depressed him.


A bit of the sun started poking up over the horizon and a thin beam of light hit him in the eyes. The small feeling of warmth on his face and the sight in general would make always make him realize in the darkest of times why he tried so hard to keep himself alive. A glimmer of hope that someday, everything would suddenly change and that everything he had done to push himself would’ve been worth it.


He thought about Ashlyn. He thought about her father who had easily forgotten about her. He thought about himself, wondering what would result if he continued to be with her like this. He questioned himself and what kind of a person he was. These things ran through his mind all night and his mind was still shifting around like a jumping bean, but his heart however was set on one thing and it had not moved, hadn’t second guessed itself once the entire night.


Stay with her. She can’t survive this on her own at least just yet. Without her you would’ve been dead already, and you’ll always have that extra cover if you stay with her.


True, he wasn’t that kind of person that would just up and leave someone, that’s why he tried so hard to keep things solitary. Because if he made friends, and that person died...


But it was too late, it couldn't be like that anymore. Not now.


He pulled away from the window and looked for his knapsack not just to assess how much food he had, but to give him something to do, then realized that during the struggle yesterday he had left it downstairs near the window they entered the building from. His eyes moved to the wardrobe and simultaneously sighed at it with a dull expression.
 
Ashlyn awoke to the feeling of a warm liquid streaming down her face. Blinking multiple times to try and clear the sleep out her eyes she brought her hand up to her face.


Her cheek was bleeding again, and had left a small stain on the bed underneath. Looking around she realized it was coming close to sunrise. However she didn't move, she just let her eyes wander.


The first few moments were of confusion, she was used to her black and white sheets, the smell of perfume, and her dark navy walls.


Then it hit her, and the events of last night rushed and hit her. She wanted to throw up, but again, there was was nothing in her stomach to purge. Just a feeling of hopelessness. Sliding the sheet off of her slowly, she sat up. Looking at the ground she listened intently, she had caught the sigh of the boy.


Honestly she thought that she would be angry or sad that he had not left, and she had contemplated it through out the night, however the feeling was completely different.


It was joy.


The ghost of a smile touched the corners of her mouth, and she looked up. Her hair had fallen loose but the hair tie had managed to get knotted in to her hair. Combing her hair with her fingers she managed to untangle the small little band and she tied her hair in a high ponytail this time. Rubbing her face with her hands she put her hands on her knees. All of her joints, muscles, and even her bones, ached with exhaustion from the fight the night before. Pushing the memories away, she stood up, and quickly stumbled over herself. Landing on the wall in front of her, she exhaled slowly, her ankle had not gotten much better and she had forgotten about it.


Cussing under her breath she pushed herself up, letting both of her arms extend in front of her and her head hang down. She tried again and this time she kept all of her weight off of her bad ankle. Granted it wasn't comfortable, but at least she hadn't fallen over again.


For the first time she had actually seen the boy, not saying a word, she moved over to her bag and rummaged through it. Her jacket had gone missing, and she was freezing in the early morning hours. Trying not to expose her lack of warmth she tried to keep herself occupied with her bag. Pretending to look for something, she stared at her bag intently, trying to find a way to start a conversation. However a small part of her savored the silence, allowing her more time to think of what was going to happen next.


Would they stay together? Part ways? Or something else...


The thoughts plagued her mind for the last few hours, and hadn't ceased. Sighing she started looking through her bag again, looking at the same few contents, over and over again.
 
When he heard something smack the wall he whirled around, his hand reaching around for his weapon handle but he stopped himself when he saw that it was the girl making an attempt to get out of bed. He let his arm drop back to his side and opened his mouth to ask her if she was okay, but she was already making a move toward her bag. Slowly he closed his mouth, wondering why she was being so quiet and distant. Well, if she wanted to be left alone he would comply. He understood completely if she needed it, so he decided to get started on pushing the wardrobe out of the way. He wasn’t planning on asking the girl to help him, mainly because of her ankle. That and it was a completely stupid thing to ask.


Putting both his hands and pressing firmly on the side of the wooden wardrobe, with a mental one-two-three count he started to push, throwing his feet into the effort now. It wasn’t as heavy as it was last night when he was desperate and exhausted, but it was still pretty damn hard to move. He gave the thing a final push, alternating and using his back this time. Once it was out of the way he let himself slide downward, his back feeling every little piece of the woodwork sticking out until he hit the floor in a sitting position. He inhaled and exhaled deeply for a minute or so before getting up off the floor.


The rest of the building now accessible to the both of them, so he went to grab the doorknob, hoping that nobody had gotten to his supplies but found himself hesitating. He didn’t want to leave the room without having some form of conversation with her. The air around them felt more awkward than it did when he first started talking to her, and he was getting fed up with it.


“How’s your ankle feeling?” He asked in a tone of genuine concern, leaning his body against the door hoping to rid it of that heavy feeling from pushing himself.
 
"It hurts." Her voice was sharp, irritated, however not with him but with the fact that she couldn't find the ring she was wearing earlier. A slim silver band with a single stone on it, a red that matched the color of her hair. Realizing how rude her first statement had been she looked up at him, and instead of revising the first statement she asked him a question.


"Have you seen my ring?" Her voice was still cold, but now it was fringed with fear and perhaps the slightest dose of anxiety. The ring was supposedly her mother's. Whether or not it was true, she didn't care because for as long as she could remember she wore it. Never once had it left her body since the day she had gotten it. Most of the time it sat on a chain that she wore around a neck, but after her father left her, it returned to it's place on her ring finger.


Looking down at her left hand she realized how insignificant a ring was in the scope of things, but she couldn't help but worry about it. Looking up at the boy and giving him a weak smile she shrugged.


"Never mind, it's not important. We better get going." Moving slowly across the room, she felt her ankle throb, however it was no where near as bad as it was the night before. Walking didn't hurt it was just uncomfortable.


Looking at the now pale yellow and blue sky she did the math in her head. If they left within the next hour, even with her being injured, they could make it to her house before nightfall.
 
His eyes narrowed at the sight of her trying to move, not out of anger though, maybe slight irritation; it was common sense that she would want to be off that ankle as much as possible, and seeing her on it bothered him more than anything. He moved toward her and gently guided her back to the edge of the bed. “Sit. You’re not moving anywhere unless you have to.” His voice came out a bit more demanding than he intended, same with his expression, so he softened both. He glanced at the sky then back at her, relatively straight-faced now. “We’ve got time before we’re head out, we want the sun just above the horizon anyway. Some of those things are probably still up.”


Making sure he was looking at her straight in the eyes, he could tell that no matter what she told him, that ring meant something to her. And if it was that important, maybe it also gave her some sort of hope, a light in all of this, similar to what the sunrise did to him. “Do you remember when you had the ring last?”


He wasn’t planning on doing a ring hunt, but if she lost it in this building somewhere - which was likely because it was where most of the action went down - he would’ve been more than willing to scope around for it.
 
Letting him move her back to the bed, she sat down with a defeated sigh.


"I know, you're right. I'm just anxious, but I guess we have the room. I have water and food in my bag, if you want any."


Looking at him it was comforting to see someone take an interest in her health, and even go as far as to keep her from hurting herself further.


The next question startled her a bit,


"Well... I know I had it when you picked me up, but after that I don't remember." Looking around the room she hoped to see the familiar glint of silver and red, but nothing showed up other then dusts and perhaps a few dancing shadows.


"It's probably out in the hallway, it was always a little big on my finger, it may have just slid off." Giving a half-smile up at the boy from her sitting position, she tried to lighten her mood as best as she could. "Once it's full day-light maybe we can look through the hallway, and if it's not out there," she shrugged, "then I suck it up like a big girl and we move on."


Though the thought of leaving the piece of herself behind dampened her smile, she looked up at the boy with a determination that she had the night before.


"I think that's fair. Yes?"
 
A smirk rose to his lips. “So demanding. But okay, I guess that works.” His eyes moved over to her bag, then back to her. “I’m glad you got food, I left all mine downstairs. The infected probably had a go at it now that I think about it…”


With a sigh he sat down in front of her bag and pulled out two granola bars. With a swift movement of his arm he tossed one over his shoulder and it landed on the bed next to the girl. His eyes concentrated on the lit window as he peeled the wrapper off and crumpled it in his hand. Thinking about this place and the girl, as well as how much she confided in him about herself in such a short span of time, he decided that it was only fair to tell her a bit about himself too. Well, not himself personally, but a bit about the desolate place that they took refuge in.


“My Dad used to take me all the way down here, we were close friends with the owners. This place was a bed and breakfast.” He looked up at the girl, a smile spreading across his lips. “Me and their kid used to play hide and seek up here, that’s why I knew the layout so well. That window we climbed in? They used to always leave it open to air out the heat from all the cooking in the kitchen down the hall because there were no windows in there.”


His eyes moved down to his hands, still holding the granola bar and the crunched up wrapper. The memories of where they were seemed to show on his face, happier memories of better times. He often let himself go when he thought about his life, spending hours lying on whoever's bed it was in whoever's home he decided to use as a shelter just thinking. It kept him sane when he was alone for so long. Then he frowned.


“I wonder if they made it somewhere safe.” He stared with a trance-like expression at a patch in the wall for no real reason in particular other than it was something else to focus on. Silence overcame him and the air in the room in general. Realizing how awkward he had probably made things, he threw up another half-hearted smile. “Luckily the furniture and everything is still here though. That’s good for us.” He said, absent-mindedly taking a bite out of the bar. The apple flavor of it made him realize how hungry he was and before he knew it, all that was left in the palm of his hand were a few crumbs.
 
"Well I imagined eventually I'd have to be taking care of someone, I am quite the giving soul after all." Smiling, she tried her best to cover her voice in joking humor, but still at the edges it was ragged with something similar to despair.


Looking down at the granola bar, her stomach almost hurt looking at it. Pushing it away gently, she listened to the boy, frowning at the realization that the chances of the people surviving here were... well almost none. Looking thoughtfully at her torn up hands, she smirked, then again her chances were worse then their's and she had made it. So there was a hope for them. Not dwelling on the thought any longer then she had to.


"Well I'm glad you're memories of them are fond, it's all we really have left of people now a days." Looking at her hands more intensely she counted how many small cuts and sores she could find, her voice seemed to shape words and deliver them on it's own. "Me and my father stayed fairly isolated. He knew that the outbreak was only going to get worse. He was a smart man, cunning if you want to be generous. However, what he did as a profession... Well it wasn't exactly the best way to make friends and what not. I went to school, so I know a few people from there. The only real friend I had moved back to her home country with her family when the outbreak started."


As the last sentence left her mouth a quick flash back appeared in her mind.


It was the news, however it was no longer clean and organized. The reporters looked distressed, scared, and agitated for being given a assignment in the particular circumstances. This reporter was pretty, a younger gal who had just started working there recently. Her blonde hair had fallen from her face, and her make up was just a tad bit messy, and her eyes screamed for salvation. The words that were being spoken at first seemed to be distant. However as she listened more carefully she realized that it did affect her, quite directly in fact.


All international flights were grounded due to a mandate given out by the government earlier this evening, however... Problems arose. All grounded flights were not given proper military support, and some planes were found to be almost completely destroyed. Many believe this is the work of the infected.





A quick snap shot of a plane flickered on to the tv, showing many infected running around it. The didn't zoom in knowing that a majority of those things were feeding on the dead. However something in particular caught her eye, it was a suitcase. She could just barely make it out, but the stickers and hand drawings were instantly recognized. They were those of her best friend. At that point she was crying, and her father shut the t.v. off and told her that they would be fine.


She never found out if they were. She could only hope that they were given some mercy by whatever force it was the controlled life, and were able to escape.


Returning to reality slowly, she felt as if she were running through mud mentally. Taking the granola bar, she walked over to him and handed it to him. Sitting down next to him.


"I imagine we will be safe here for a little while longer, however I only have enough food and water to make it 3 days. If that, so by the day after next, my ankle should be fine. We can move out then and head towards my house, then the city."


Realizing her voice was flat and monotonous she looked up at the boy, her eyes shiny with a coat of suppressed tears, and smiled. Grabbing her hair she looked away and try again to put it up, however it always seemed to want to fall free among her shoulders. However, it gave her something to do, and a reason to look away from the boy.


The hope he had given her was turning painful, now realizing that if she lost him... Well it wouldn't end well for her emotional or mental state at this time.
 
Watching her face change after she had finished up with speaking, he realized that at some point, some where in the timeline, something had happened between her and her friend. He wasn’t about to pry though. Maybe she was worried about her friend, seeing as the infection spread faster than wildfire in the U.S. For all they knew the whole world could be crawling with the unwavering dead.


“Well, who knows. Maybe she’s better off up there.” He suggested, sounding hopeful. Truly, he had hoped that there was somewhere, some place on this giant rock they were forced to live on that still had a sense of salvation. There had to be. His brain could not let the fact that there was no hope anywhere. He was raised up to believe that there was always something, always a way to making things better as long as you never lost that glimmer of hope.


Meeting Ashlyn was pure proof of that, even though he didn’t think of it that way at first. Despite the distrust he had towards her in the beginning, in this crazy wasteland world she was the only thing that resembled a friend to him. A comfort he hadn’t had in what felt like years, living with such a lifestyle…it made him feel old.


All of this made him realize that he didn’t want anything to happen to her, and almost immediately his mind flashed red rapidly in a sign of danger. If she did end up dying, what kind of state would that leave him in? Would it throw him off so badly that his life would shortly come to an end thereafter? Was she hindering him instead of actually helping him...?


He got up off the floor and moved towards the window in a rather sluggish manner. Putting his head up against the glass and looking down at the streets, he had barely caught what she said about staying for another day or so. He felt that familiar twinge of pain in his temple that he felt last night when he tried to make a concrete decision. He looked over at her, watched her attempt over and over to tie her hair for a few moments before saying with a deadpan expression, “Food and water aren’t the only things we’re going to need before we set out to your place. Unless your house has what we need?”
 
Abruptly, she sat up, giving up on her hair. Her eyes were bright with many emotions; though none were good. Staring at the boy she suddenly felt he wasn't real, perhaps it would be best if he wasn't. Looking at herself inwardly, she knew that she was becoming weak and vulnerable.


The next words came out sharp, to the point, and without any of the grace of politeness she held before.


"Two questions for you, and both better be honest answers.


One, do you think it's a good idea we stick together?


Two, what is your end goal? Just to keep surviving until what, we die of old age?"


Suddenly anger welled up inside of her, like blood does with a new wound. Turning her head away, she reached for her backpack and pulled it close to her. Moving as quickly as she could she put her back to the far wall. Tears were streaming down her face, though rather then making her look helpless, they gave her look a strange edge; one that was border-line threatening.


"I have lost, everything. And I don't think that losing anything else will do me well." Hoping that he had been thinking that same thing, she stared him down. Looking at every inch of him, and taking in what small sliver of hope she had from seeing him, she held her breath and looked away. The room was spinning and she tried her best to suppress all of her emotions. Wiping her face off, and dropping her stare to the floor, she sighed heavily.


"Look, what I'm trying to get at is this. If we're both here to just survive, then maybe letting ourselves fall prey to emotions and hope isn't the best idea. There's no sign of humanity anywhere, granted, people might still be alive. However I haven't heard any news over the radios of any colonies or camps or anything." Looking for more words to try and soften the blow of her earlier outbreak she gave up, letting the statement hang in the air. Guilt, pain, despair, anger, and even a hint of heartbreak filled Ashlyn up to the point where she felt like she might break.


Letting the tension from her shoulders leave she pressed her side up against the wall letting her head fall and lean on it, and stared at the corner next to the bed. Tears came back, this time they were tears of sadness and hopelessness, rather then anger and rage.
 
Listening to the obvious anger and pain in her voice, followed up by the look of hopelessness that she might as well have flashed in his face once she finished not only deepened the ongoing conflict inside of him, but it made him realize what he meant to her in this crisis. It didn’t shock him or surprise him in the slightest considering that decent people were hard to come by nowadays, and it was merely by chance that he had met her. Mentally though, hearing her express how much she needed him did throw him through a bit of a loop.


Slowly, he made his way over to her and put his back to the wall next to her. He stared at her for a moment, realizing that she was right. If he decided to leave her, it would be the same as walking away from her while she was pinned down by one of the infected. No matter how he looked at it, no matter what his survival instinct screamed at him, he was tangled up in this now. And even with what this world became, his humanity would always win the battle in the end. It was something to be grateful for, and it was also something potentially deadly.


“Look,” He paused and tried to gather the proper words together and structure them into a decent explanation of how he felt. “I know the situation sucks. Putting it bluntly, yeah, but it does. And we all have those moments where there’s no silver lining no matter where you look. People lose themselves in all of this, they become animals themselves and in the process, they become more of a threat than the infected are. But in a world that seems so hopeless and beyond anyone’s help…there’s still others out there like you and I, going day to day pushing themselves to survive. Hoping to find some sign that everything’s going to be okay someday. There‘s still life in the cracks.”


His eyes moved over to the window again and he sighed. “As for my honest opinion…I can’t answer either. I’ve never been good at planning these things out.” His eyes wavered a bit before returning back to her. A smile formed across his lips. “What I do know is I don’t want to come back among the ranks of the infected. That’s pretty damn important a goal I’d say.”


He chuckled a bit before continuing. “But I…after what we were just through, all of it…I can’t just forget something like that. Plus, you’re practically screwed if one of those things decides to crawl it’s way in here. You’re pretty much defenseless.” Another chuckle. “Alright, jokes aside. What I’m trying to say is…I’m not the kind of person that just drops somebody. No matter how I’ve trained myself to think, telling myself I'd be better off…and in a way that’s good. It prevents me from turning out like that guy.” There was a pause where he reflected on what had happened to them yesterday, but he tried not to let himself get sucked into the negative.


He looked at her, his blue eyes shining from the light from the window. It gave them some fire. “I’ll stand by you if you stand by me.”
 
In the midst of the boy talking she had buried her face in to her arms. Pulling her knees up so she could cross her arms over them, she kept her face down as she listened to him.


Whatever it was the separated them, was now the sole thing keeping them together. She was prepared to wave him off and to tell him to leave. Relying on others in such a bleak situation hardly seemed practical, however, the situation they were in was far from practical.


Feeling him next to her, after he had moved over, made her feel a little better. Pain still ran through her veins like fire, but at least he dulled it just enough so she could think straight. Realizing her fear of being alone she was grateful for his decision, though she was convinced that she could survive on her own... if she wanted too.


And that was the real question, was did she really want to live knowing that the one friend she had made along the way left her? Or died?


He was confident. Maybe not in himself, or in the situation, but was confident in that fact that he wasn't going to leave her anytime soon if he had things his way. She knew how he felt, the little voice of survival screaming at you to run away from emotions and feelings, to continue on your own and only use people as you need them. However that small voice was instantly overwhelmed by the sense of humanity that they were clinging on too. The larger voice screamed that being alone wasn't normal, humans were creatures of camaraderie and hope. Being alone was similar to throwing yourself blindly in to a battle, not knowing your opponent or ultimate goal. Two heads are better then one, as the saying goes, barely covered the emotional landscape of humans, but it was as close as she could get to trying to understand it.


Picking her head up, she played with a limp strand of hair. Staring at the wall, she couldn't help but feel that the boy looking at her. However she couldn't meet his gaze, something inside her kept her muscles and bones from making the simple movement of turning towards him.


When she spoke her voice was hoarse, small, and quieter then is usually was. She felt as if she were in a dream, and this was all just a nightmare. Though she knew that it wasn't a nightmare, it was reality.


A gross, wrong, and lifeless reality that was hanging on by a thread.


"I'll stand by you. But try not to die, if you can help it. Sorry for yelling at you, I guess I'm just tired and stressed. Or emotional, girls tend to me emotional a lot. The radio is still set up at my house, maybe something new has come to light since I've left, we can listen. I have more water at my house to, and maybe a few MRE's. So we can start there, and move our way towards the city. Or something..." She was rambling a little bit, but she was processing her thoughts and a plan as well, trying her best to keep her feet grounded and to push the emotions away from her immediate conscious.


The feelings would fade, and soon she would be fine again, but for now she felt as if she were a wound.


Vulnerable, exposed, and subject to terrible pain.
 
Noticing that she was looking at everywhere but him gave him the notion that he needed to let her have some space. At once he removed himself from his place on the wall and took a few steps towards the bed while listening to her talk on. He wasn’t sure if it was the case for her, but talking about the place they were in and his memories here had relieved him of some pressure. Pressure that was built up for God knows how long. With what happened to his new friend recently, it was no wonder or surprise to see her so shaken, but hearing her ramble on had told him that she was climbing back up to where she was. Slowly, but surely.


He wondered how she would’ve turned out if he had left, or simply disappeared. He didn’t want to think about it. It made his insides feel like ice.


“Believe me, I don’t have any intention of dying any time soon, even if the odds aren‘t in my favor.” He said after she finished speaking. His voice had a confidence about it that wasn’t arrogance, but simply had expressed his motivation to see this specific goal through. His eyes moved over towards the door, then back to her again almost like a magnet. “Well, first off we need you to recover. So put all your energy into that, and I’ll be the one to worry about all the heavier stuff. Try to relax, because we’re safe for now.”


That wasn’t a guarantee, but he tried to sound as reassuring as possible. As much as he despised staying in one place so out in the open for too long, he wasn’t going to push her with an ankle like that. So he shrugged off the irritation and moved towards the door. “I’m going downstairs to see if there’s anything left of my supplies. You should get some more rest, stay off that ankle and it’ll heal quicker.” It wasn’t a bit of advice he was giving her, but more like words of encouragement that he hoped she would adhere to.


Before he went to leave the room however, he scooped up his jacket that he had left on the floor last night, intending to use it as a material to clean his weapon with, remembering that it was stained with both infected and non-infected blood.


With a full-fledged smile, he turned the doorknob and opened the door. Taking out his weapon and slowly sliding the cloth across the edge of the blade, he moved onward into the dark hallway beyond.
 
All she did was nod.


When he moved away from the wall two feelings came over her; relief and despair.


Such contradictions only added to the headache that was pounding in her head, but she managed to keep quiet and nod.


His confidence was strange, something that was unlike any other. On anyone else it would have been arrogance, and she would have laughed at it. However the tone of voice, and the words he chose, made everything he said seem incontrovertible. As if he could defy the natural laws, if he so pleased. Having an anchor like this, during a time where her emotions had finally given away to the weight, it was comforting however she still couldn't help but feel a little bitter.


As he was comfortably talking, moving around, and being proactive she was stuck sitting against a wall. Though the fear of standing up and passing out, or having another emotional panic attack, outweighed her self-pity. When she heard he was leaving, ice ran through her veins replacing the rage almost instantaneously. She knew that it was a good idea to see if he could salvage anything, since her supplies were low to begin with. Fear fell over her like a weight though, and she couldn't help but want to tell him no, or at least go with him.


By the time she thought of a valid argument though, the door was open and he was gone. With the hollow promise of, he would be back soon.


Sighing she removed herself from her patch on the floor, trying her best to avoid putting weight on her ankle. Looking around slowly she realized it was full daylight, and he would be safe. Even if one or two infected were to arrive, he could take care of himself. Trying her best to soothe her nerves she moved backed to the bed, where she moved the pillows back neatly and fixed the blanket. She sat on the bed, staring at the door, willing herself not to worry. But it was impossible.


Grabbing for her bag, she found her knife, and held it in her hand. Looking down she could see that it was still quite dirty with the blood of the man that had fallen the previous night. The blood didn't bother her, she was surprised at her own bravery and calmness. Finding a spare towel in her bag she tried her best to clean it off as much as she could. When she finished the blade was still tinted, though for the most part, it was fairly clean. Dropping her bag beside her, along with the now dirty towel, she played with the knife in her hand. Listening as closely as she could, she could hear the faintest footsteps of the boy, but that was it. Though if there were infected, she would surely hear them. Or at least she would smell them. Thinking of the smell she had encountered it was hard for her not to gag, even though the room was free of the scent. Closing her eyes, and willing the pitiful wave of nausea away, she re-opened her eyes. Focusing on the door and the sounds of the other human being in the building, she relaxed, knowing that if things did go bad being tense was not going to help anything at all.


The knife caught the light and it caught Ashlyn's eye. Looking down at it, she could see her reflection. For dealing with so much, she was still fairly well put together. Her cheek was almost healed and her hair was now much calmer and nicer looking. Giving a half smile, for just a fleeting moment, she could see herself as she was two years ago.


Before everything had given away to chaos and death, when the most important thing on her mind was when her favorite band's next album was coming out or when her father would come home. Giving a sad half-smile, she realized one positive out of the ocean of negatives in the situation she had fallen in to, at least she had lost every bit of arrogance she owned.
 
It was only when he was halfway down the staircase that he realized how he was a bit quick to leave her upstairs by herself. He didn’t want to make her stress over something like the possibility of abandonment, even though he thought he was pretty convincing with what he promised her. Either way he did not feel comfortable leaving her up there for too long by herself - because knowing her she would probably make an attempt to come after him if he took too long - so he made a mental note to hurry up and do what he needed to do downstairs.


The swiping of the material running it’s way across his blade was the only sound he could hear. No other sound intervened from downstairs, nor upstairs. Chunks of blood and what looked like bits of skin came off and the blade was beginning to look relatively clean if one looked past the light red tint it now had. He would have to find some proper cleaning supplies to fix that, if he ever found any.


When he reached the landing that looked down and into the hallway below, the smell of rotting meat was quick to reach his nostrils and he forced himself not to wretch. His hand dropped his jacket and instinctively moved up to cover his mouth. When the feeling of sickness faded, he lowered his hand and moved his eyes down to the murder scene itself, not wanting to associate the smell with the sight. That would’ve been a massive overload on his senses.


What he did not realize during the struggle yesterday was where they had left the man afterward. The gunshot to the side of the man’s head caused his body to fall sideways and topple all the way to the bottom of the staircase. All the way down where the infected person had landed after he had cut through the things skull. The two laid one on top of the other, plopped there as if someone attempted to make a sick and twisted make-shift burial there, their blood practically intertwined-


Nate felt like someone doused his insides with ice water. He froze up much like a deer in headlights would’ve, and his senses immediately heightened as if he were outside, taking cover behind that car all over again.


He took it step by step down the staircase and he didn’t care if it took an eternity to do. He knew that he had to hurry back up to his friend, but at the moment there was something just a little bit more significant than that. Clutching the handle on the weapon tightly, his only friend in this, he eyed the man’s corpse for any sign of movement. If he saw anything, anything at all, he would hack his face in mercilessly. The corpse stayed completely still however, heavily resembling a statue the way the skin reflected what little light it was given downstairs.


Slowly, he forced his legs to move past the corpse despite the resistance they gave him. He would’ve staked the corpse between the eyes and he should’ve, but he didn’t want to add to the purely revolting smell that had taken over every corner of the downstairs level. His eyes didn’t waver for a second, but they were beginning to water due to the horrid smell. Oh how he wanted to gag.


And then he was past them. Taking a moment to properly inhale and exhale, he quickly made his way down the hallway and through the doorway where he and the girl came in not a day earlier. On the floor he saw his knapsack and he didn’t hesitate for a second to scoop it up and look in at it’s contents.


What he saw however, brought him to a conclusion. Half of his supplies were missing, and considering the infected wasn’t anywhere near his knapsack, the only other person that could’ve touched it was…


He slung his knapsack over his shoulder in it’s rightful place and stormed right out of the room, not caring if he sounded like a sumo wrestler on the floorboards or not. He made his way over to where the corpse was, fear replaced by anger and rage.


This bastard was going to take anything he was gonna get. He had the supplies right there, and yet he was still going to kill us both. It didn’t matter if he took everything we owned and left us on our hands and knees, he still would’ve shot us down regardless because he found it fun.


This thought overcame him, and at that moment everything felt like a dream, only it was far from a lucid one. When the feeling went away, he realized that he had taken his machete and stuck it straight between the corpse’s eyes. To his relief, the body had tensed up, then relaxed itself. Almost as if it was waiting for him to turn his back, avert his eyes.


He grabbed the man’s blood-stained backpack, unzipped it and sifted through it. He found his supplies in the mix of other useless things and retrieved it all, storing it all back in his rightful knapsack. Quick to getting back on his feet, he placed his foot firmly on the corpse’s chest and retrieved his weapon through forceful means.


From there, he stormed off up the stairs, scooping up the jacket he dropped earlier as he went. Consumed by an unfathomable rage that he just couldn’t seem to tune out…
 
"Your grace is wasted in your face, your boldness stands alone among the wreck..."


The words were no longer words, but whimsical sounds; singing if you wanted to be literal. Ashlyn had never been a bad singer, however never good enough to make it a career. Listening to her voice, it felt distant as if by some miracle the world had begun to produce music again. Her voice was much higher then usual, the words were formed with a sense of grace that she lacked in normal every day conversation, however it was a part of her she had lost.


Lost. Her ring.


Grabbing her knee, and clutching it tightly, she focused on the words of the song. Willing herself not to cry she shoved the bitter feelings away, and returned to focusing on the sounds of the boy. He must have deemed it to be safe, for she could hear most of his actions fairly well. It was comforting, hearing the sounds of another human being. No matter how miserable or angered they might sound. Realizing that she had dimmed her voice to humming, the song had ended. Sighing, she started again. This was her third time singing the song, however the beauty of the song wasn't what was keeping her singing, it was a way to time him.


If by time five he wasn't back upstairs, downstairs she would go. Loneliness started to creep in to her veins, and suddenly she felt panicky. What if he left? Would he leave her? Should she moved the wardrobe back? Did he take her supplies? Perhaps he was just scouting out to see if there was anything else? Or maybe...


Instantly she tasted the all to familiar tinge of iron in her mouth, and then a throbbing pain. Slowly she brought a frail finger up to her lip, when she pulled it back all she saw was red. For a few moments she would pretend that it was a smear of lipstick, and she had simply smeared her make-up. Tears threatened to fall, but she wouldn't allow it.


Now feeling the full affect of her lips, she chided herself about inflicting injury upon herself.


Her ring, it stung again. Looking towards the window, it was no where near as bright as it was earlier, but it was still sunny out. Almost mocking in how beautiful the day was. On a day like this Ashlyn would've been headed towards the music store downtown after her Karate lessons. Walking in she would greet the store clerk with a familiar smile and a few words; anything new?





Some days his explanations would be short, telling her no. Other's he would spend twenty, thirty, even an hour to explain a new album or something that might catch her interest. She didn't know his name, and she was almost certain, he didn't know hers. However the connection they had, was nice. Compared to the shallow people she would encounter at high school it was a nice change of pace. It didn't hurt that they had a mutual love for music itself. After conversation, she would skim through what he had. Some days she would spend all the money she had, others she would walk out not a penny less rich then she was before she entered the store.


Realizing that she had let herself day dream, quickly she refocused herself. Suddenly her mouth started to form a word, however she stopped it.


She wanted to call out to the boy, to reassure herself she wasn't alone, but she knew better. Looking down sadly, she wished that he would come back. Bitterness coated Ashlyn's tongue sourly, and she willed herself to keep her temper.


Since when did she need him? His protection? His company? What was happening to her? Crying over everything, screaming every few hours, these emotional panic attacks? This was not going to be tolerated much longer, and she tried to shut her emotions away in a metal box. Not that it worked, but her head did clear a little bit, and she felt her more predatory self come back.


Picking herself up, she felt her ankle throb, but it was no where near as bad as before. Trying her ankle out by walking in a few circles, she made an executive decision; to go after him. Grabbing the knife tightly, she scoured the room for the gun. Did he still have it? Perhaps it was on the ground? Or maybe-- she stopped the thoughts, and decided a gun wasn't much help in any situation, it was to noisy. Like a dinner bell for the infected. Shuddering she pushed the thought away and inched in to the hall way. Adrenaline started to leak in to her senses, her vision focusing in better then a few moments ago. Her hearing picked up on the movement of the boy, and she could almost smell the death they had left in the air. It was heavy, dank... poisonous almost. Shaking her head violently, she looked at the ground, maybe she would find her ring? The idea allowed for the ghost of a smile to play at her lips.


Stopping at the stairs she gathered up every nerve in her body, every ounce of courage, and gave up the last shred of sanity she had.


All for one word;


"Nate?"
 
He could hear the faint dripping of something wet hitting the carpet floor but he didn’t bother to look down at the mess his blood-coated machete was making. The place was already left as a mess anyway…


That thought stopped his ascendance, and he found himself facing the murder scene again. He stared at it, and slowly the anger began to redirect itself, no longer towards the man below, but at the world in general. He remembered having a gripe with the world when he was a younger teen, but for very different and distinct reasons.


Despite his deep confidence that there was still hope in a seemingly helpless world, he remembered how he used to spend his nights in someone else’s home as wondering if the human race would ever go back to the way it was. Well, what was left of the human race, anyway.


But would the remainder all eventually turn out like savages in the end? Like the man below, an animal in the shadows who’s sole purpose on this enormous rock was to hunt others?


The infection began two years ago and it had spread to the point where the world became a distorted wasteland, and you were lucky if you found one person while roaming these empty streets at all. The world was now nothing but something that was lying in wait to waste away. If there were enough people still alive, would it be enough to rebuild all of this chaos? Did the world have enough sane people to care about these things? Would any of this ever end?


The main cause of his irritation was himself now. He didn’t know.


With a defeated sigh he started moving up the stairs again, doing the now monotonous task of wiping his blade with the jacket again.


This blade is going to be stained forever, no matter how much you wipe it clean. As long as you are fighting this fight…


At once the sound of someone calling his name reached his ears, albeit delayed, like it came from the other end of a tunnel. Nate realized that his friend had come out to look for him, check to see if he was okay. Or if he had abandoned her, maybe it was both. With no hesitation he sheathed his weapon in it’s rightful place: the side pocket on his knapsack, and quickly made his way up the stairs.


He was at the bottom flight on the second set of the stairs when his eyes met hers. His eyes narrowed slightly. “You should be resting.”


His voice clearly showed like it was broadcasted on a television screen that he was agitated and immediately regretted it. He didn’t want to take out his irritation at himself on her, that was his problem. Noticing that she seemed to be doing a bit better, he quickly made an attempt to change his attitude because the last thing he wanted to do was upset her further today. It wasn’t good for her to be like that.


“Are you okay?” He asked after a pause, his voice considerably softer.
 
The sharpness in his voice stung, more then it should have. Evaluating his body language she could tell all was not well with him.


Usually his first comment would have given her a feeling of security, a solid knowledge that someone cared. However the acid in his voice eliminated any feelings she had, causing her to mute all emotions immediately.


The second time he spoke, his voice was much softer, more familiar. Trying to understand how emotions could cause one to be bitter, she gave a half smile. Slowly and weakly she limped down the stairs, until she was a step above him. She could see him eye to eye, the height difference being made up by the single stair. Smiling, she tried to keep her voice as calm as possible. As she descended the smell of death and rotting infected had made her want to throw up everything and anything in her system, but the look of irritation and pure rage urged the girl past her petty complaints.


"I'm fine." Pausing she looked at the ground, letting her hair fall around her pale face, covering most of her skin.


"It's hard, and I know I haven't been much help..."


The next statement formed in her head, and she didn't know if what she would say would reflect how he felt, but she needed to reassure herself.


If it helped him, wonderful. If it didn't, well it wouldn't hurt anything really.


"You're human. I'm human. We're just looking for a way out of this hell. I don't know what you're thinking, and you don't have to tell me if you don't want too, but just know that I'm here to listen."


Her face was hot with embarrassment, not knowing how he would react to her display of feminine sympathy. Honestly, it made her skin tingle, being open and like this. However she pushed onward, hoping that even a few of her words would calm his anger and maybe comfort him. Brushing a few stray strands of firey red hair out of her face she looked up at him sheepishly.


"I'm not good at this stuff, but you're not alone anymore. It's hard to shake the feeling, and it'll take a little getting used too. But hey, at least now there's hope, right? Maybe it's not a lot of hope, but it's better then the nothing we had before."


She dropped her eyes, and looked at the ground, her cheeks painted rose with multiple emotions. Slowly she turned her back towards the boy, and made her way slowly but surely up the stairs. Her original plan was to just ask about her ring, but now it seemed less then unimportant. Slowly her feelings of sorrow parted, and she felt content. Her ankle throbbed, she looked like hell, had been through hell, was fighting against the worst odds in the entire world, but all was well. For right now, everything was okay.


About half way up the stair case, she waited. She wasn't exactly sure for what, maybe for him to reply? Or something. Honestly, she didn't care, she did as much as she could and felt decent about her attempt. From where she was standing on the staircase, she could see the bedroom. Minus the dust, it looked somewhat inhabited. Wrappers on the ground, her sweatshirt, shoes, the larger blanket. Though it was messy, it only solidified her new feeling of comfort.
 
Nate couldn’t understand what it was about this girl that helped him clear his mind, and he figured that he never would understand. Maybe it was a girl thing? Though, he used to know a lot of girls back when he was in high school. Maybe it was their maturity, but they were nothing like this girl. Granted, maybe they would’ve been different if they were in her place in this situation. Or not, maybe sobbing in the corner would’ve been the only thing they were capable of?


He didn’t know, but he did know one thing was for certain: Ashlyn was special. In a world where it seemed like there was never to be any kind of salvation, she remained strong despite her weaker moments. And he respected that about her, which helped him forget about his anger even for just one moment.


Taking a couple steps up the lonely stairs towards her, he opened his mouth and spoke in rather mellowed-out tone. “I’m sorry. I just…like you said, we’re both human.” His eyes moved over to the wall on his left and continued to speak. “Everything that happened recently happened so quick. It’s a lot to scarf down. I’m so used to everything being the same. Running, hiding, moving from house to abandoned house, searching for food to live off of…”


His voice, which got more firm as he went on, had trailed off as he lost his train of thought and what he wanted to convey. His expression showed that he was deep in thought when he bit the inside of his lip. “But don’t take that the wrong way, I’m grateful that I met you. Maybe this is the start of a string of changes, or a sign…for both of us. I don’t know.” Shaking his head, he looked up at her again.


Staring up at her long hair, he suddenly remembered what she told him about her ring. In an effort to change the course of this conversation, a half-smile spread across his lips.


“So what do you say about that ring?” He crossed his arms but his expression was completely relaxed now, the anger mostly dissolved away back into the depths of his personality.
 
Turning around, meeting his eyes with calm ones, she smiled.


"It is a lot to process, but we'll make it. We have too."


Moving back down towards him, she leaned against the wall. Mainly because her ankle hurt and was screaming at her for using it so much.


Slowly but surely the anger and pain that was so prevalent on the his face had now faded. Feeling accomplished and even slightly triumphant she nodded.


It was a strange change of pace, having to go from scavenger, to predator. Granted they weren't really hunting people, but they had killed someone. Slowly the cold reality of what was happening seeped in to her bones, but she pushed it away furiously not wanting to upset the boy any more then he already was.


"I'm glad I met you too," a full smile brightening up her rather tired looking face, "everything happens for a reason." Putting as much conviction and hope as she could in to the last four words, she left the smile on her face hoping she would keep the revived mood alive.


When he asked about the ring, she cocked her head, as if she couldn't comprehend what he was saying. And it was because she didn't.


In the midst of everything she had forgotten about it, and half of her was angry at herself the other felt... strange, she couldn't describe it.


Something about him could make her forget about the one object in the world that she loved. Her smile faded to a thin line, reflecting her deep thoughts and knot of emotions she was trying to figure out. None of it was bad though, none of it at all. With that, she let the strangled look of confusion fall, and replaced it with a more familiar small smile and bright eyes.


"Well, it's not that big of a deal really..." She tried to keep her voice as calm as possible, but she couldn't keep her voice from wavering. Looking away, she shrugged, as if to signal she didn't really know what to do. Though the ring was important, she would hate to waste his time and energy, on something that meant nothing to him. Pain filled her heart, knowing that she would have to let go of the little metal circle, because it was most likely gone. Looking up she gave him a full smile, but her eyes were dim with hidden sorrow.


"Jewelry was never really my thing anyways." Hoping for her voice to come off as light and humored, it ended up being cold and a bit rough. Clearing her throat, she scoured the ground and stairs as she moved painfully up them. Her ankle was really not taking this well, and she couldn't push the pain away forever. Suddenly she felt exhausted, to the point to where she contemplated collapsing where she was. Pushing her hair out of her face, she looked at the room once again. Her sense of time was usually on point, however a decent amount of time had passed, it wasn't getting dark but it was late afternoon and the shining effects of mid-morning sunshine had dulled to just normal sunlight. Seeing the bed, a small fire of longing sprang up inside of her, wanting to just fall asleep so she could better process the events of the day.


Suddenly she felt a pang of guilt, she had taken the bed last night, and he was stuck sleeping against the wall. Clearing her throat, and pushing the pain and whatever other emotions away, she called back towards him, "You can sleep in the bed tonight, I might be a queen, but I'm not rude." Letting a small chuckle leave her lips, she came to the clearing in front of the room leaning against the wall, trying to keep the pain in her ankle at bay.
 
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