crystalclearwaters1

[crystalclearwaters1]

Family Ties Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

They drove mostly in silence as they left town. Krystal lay on her back in the trunk of the car with 10K sitting upright beside her, cradling his rifle on his lap. He was scanning the road with his eyes, ready for anything.

Spotting no danger, he looked down at Krystal.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked.

“Better,” she replied with a smile. “That Oxy Doc gave me really helped.”

He looked relieved, and lay down beside her placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

They arrived in the next town by sunset.

“We’ll stop for the night, travel again in the morning,” Warren said. “Always safer by daylight.”

“There’s a Walmart supercentre a few blocks from here,” Krystal called out to her from her spot in the back. “We can stop there, grab some supplies.”

Soon, the Walmart loomed in front of them like a beacon of safety. Warren pulled into the parking lot and stopped close to the front doors. Krystal and 10K were the first to disembark, throwing the tailgate open and jumping out, grabbing what little luggage they had and passing things out to the others.

The sliding glass doors at the front of the store were open just wide enough for them all to fit through. As soon as they were in, Mac and Doc set about finding things to block the open door with.

Suddenly, a shot rang out. Warren had taken down a zombie that had been roaming around near the entrance.

“Walmart zombies,” Doc said. “There’s somethin’ you don’t see every day.”

Krystal had to bite her tongue to stop herself from laughing when she saw the shambling creatures wandering around. Just like in the photos she had seen on the internet before the apocalypse, some of their outfits were ridiculous.

“Imagine having to wander the Earth for eternity wearing that outfit,” Murphy said, nodding at a tall, gangly male zombie wearing what appeared to be a hot-pink tank top meant for a woman much smaller than him, blue jean-shorts that were a bit too short, and a pair of black cowboy boots. “Give ‘em mercy, Warren. Sheesh.”

Warren took aim and fired, swiftly putting down the zombie in question.

“Doc, on your left!” 10K yelled. Doc swung around, crowbar in hand, taking down a woman wearing a neon-pink leotard and running shoes.

Krystal took her scythe from her backpack, extending the handle to its full length. She ran up and sliced the blade through the neck of another zombie that was coming up behind Addy, sending a splatter of blood trailing after its head as it tumbled to the floor and rolled a few feet away. Murphy delivered a swift kick to the chest of a third one, sending it stumbling backwards, before Warren fired her weapon again and dropped the zombie in its tracks. Several shots rang out as 10K and Mack both discharged their weapons, picking off badly-dressed zombies left and right. Soon, the carnage was over. The floor of the lobby was littered with bodies and severed heads, and splashed with blood and brain-matter.

“3,846,” 10K said as he and Doc exchanged a high-five. Doc then wandered off to the Pharmacy to see what he could find, while Murphy and Warren cleared the perimeter. Warren soon gave the all clear, and they made their way to the Grocery department to scavenge for supplies. Krystal stuffed a bag of pasta into her backpack, but that was all she could find.

The group reassembled and headed into the Home department. Some of the display furniture had been smashed or toppled over, but most of it was still intact. They went over to the corner where the display beds were, and each chose one. Krystal had just stored her backpack under a double bed with a simple wooden frame and made up with white sheets and a purple marbled quilt when, somewhere toward the back of the store, there was a loud sound like wood breaking and metal scraping against metal.

“What now?” Murphy asked, rolling his eyes. Mack, his gun in hand, walked quickly out into the lobby to investigate. He came jogging back a moment later, looking alarmed.

“Warren, there’s more,” he reported. “Looks like someone had them locked in the restrooms, they broke down the doors.”

“Okay everyone, get ready,” Warren said. They armed themselves with their weapons, and made their way out to the lobby to meet the zombies head-on. Adrenaline pumping through her with every beat of her heart, Krystal extended her scythe again, just as the horde came lurching around the corner. She, Addy and Doc charged forward, swinging their weapons, while Mack, 10K and Warren stood back, shooting at them from a distance. Murphy stayed behind Warren. As one zombie fell, Krystal caught sight of the one shambling along behind it; a tall, solidly-built man with dark-brown hair. He wore a white shirt under a blue denim jacket and denim jeans. Krystal felt like all of her breath suddenly left her body. She swayed on the spot, feeling almost as weak as she had when she had fainted back at the house.

“No. Oh, God, no. No!” She screamed, her eyes burning as they welled up with tears and her body began to tremble uncontrollably.

“Krys, what’s wrong?” Doc yelled over to her.

“Oh, shit,” Murphy said. “It’s Kevin.”

“Dad… “Krystal choked back a sob. “All this time, I thought…”

“Krys, come here.” Murphy came up beside her and put an arm around her. Shaking, she leaned against him, staring at the zombie that had once been her father as it shambled toward her. Its head cocked to the side, it stared at her with its dead eyes, and Krystal thought she saw a hint of recognition. 

“Krystal, I’m so sorry,” Warren said. “Do you want me to take care of him?”

“No,” Krystal replied, stepping away from her uncle and gripping the handle of her scythe tightly in one hand, while roughly wiping away her tears with the other. She was still shaking, but she took a deep breath and steeled herself. “No, if anyone’s gonna do it, it should be me.”

“Are you sure?” Murphy asked. “I can try talking to him…” Krystal shook her head.

“No, I got it.”

She approached the zombie slowly, until she was standing a foot away from him. It watched her with cold, dead eyes, clicking its teeth together and making a horrible wheezing sound.

“Kevin Miller, I give you mercy.”

The zombie lurched forward, snapping its jaws. Krystal swung the scythe up, severing her father’s head at the neck. His body slumped to the ground, and his head landed at her feet. With the brain still intact, it was still growling and snapping its jaws. Krystal brought the scythe down in one swift motion and plunged the blade right through the crown of its skull. The head fell silent. Pulling the blade free, Krystal dropped the scythe to the floor with a clatter, and at that moment, something inside her broke. Her knees gave way and she hit the floor. Murphy gathered her into his arms and helped her stand, and she clung to him, her face buried in his chest again, sobbing hysterically. She felt 10K come up behind her and slide his arms around her waist. The three of them stayed like that until Krystal felt like she could function again.

~*~

Later, Krystal was lying awake on her chosen display bed while Addy and Doc slept soundly in theirs. Mack and 10K were doing a last-minute patrol of the mall. Krystal perked up when she heard a pair of voices, speaking in hushed tones.

“Hey, Warren.” Krystal recognised her uncle’s voice. “I know we need to keep moving and all, but I’m worried about Krystal. I think we should give her some time to recover.”

“You’re right,” Warren agreed. “She’s been through a lot. We’ll give it another day.”

Krystal got up quietly and approached them.

“Don’t delay the mission on my account,” she said; Murphy jumped a little at the sound of her voice. “I’m fine.”

“Krys, you’re not fine,” Murphy insisted. “You just lost your Dad…”

“That thing wasn’t my Dad,” Krystal said sharply. She could feel a wave of anger bubbling up inside her; her chest started to feel tight and she started to tremble slightly. “I lost my Dad a long time ago. He stopped being my Dad when he abandoned me and left me to handle my alcoholic mother on my own.”

She sucked in a shaking breath.

“If he’d stuck around, maybe Mom would still be alive,” she said, her voice cracking. Tears were stinging her eyes now, and she couldn’t hold them back. “If he’d stuck around, maybe I wouldn’t have had to mercy her!”

“Krys–” Murphy tried to soothe her, but she cut him off.

“I hate him,” she wailed. “I HATE HIM!”

“Krys!” Murphy said, distressed, as she started to cry. “Hey, hey, hey. Come here.”

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him. She hid her face in his chest and sobbed.

“I know, honey, I know…” Murphy said softly, nuzzling the top of her head. “Doc, gimme a hand here? You got anything?”

“I got some Valium,” Doc offered from somewhere to their left. He must have woken up while they were talking. “I can try giving her a half.”

“I don’t take–” Krystal tried to protest, but Murphy hushed her.

“Tonight, you do,” he told her firmly. She didn’t argue any further, and obediently took the pill Doc gave her. A short time later, she could feel the effects creeping up on her. 10K settled her into bed, then crawled in beside her. He put his arm around her protectively, and she curled up against his chest, basking in the warmth of his body head until sleep washed over her.

~*~

Krystal awoke the next morning feeling groggy, and still subdued. She didn’t say much as they ate their meagre scavenged breakfast, and stayed as close to 10K as possible. Doc and Murphy both watched her closely.

She wanted to tell them that she was fine, but she knew Murphy wouldn’t believe her. Deep down, she knew she wasn’t fine.

“Hey, Krys,” Addy said gently. “Wanna go shopping? That always cheers me up.”

Krystal hesitated before nodding with a soft smile, and the two of them hurried off to the Fashion department, dragging 10K and Mack with them.

Despite the looting that had gone on in the early days of the outbreak, the Fashion department was virtually untouched. Krystal and Addy searched the racks while 10K and Mack watched.

“Are girls always like this?” Krystal heard 10K ask quietly.

“Yup,” Mack replied dryly. “And this is just clothes. Wait’ll they find the shoe section.” Krystal flicked through the many hangers until she found a pair of black skinny jeans in her size. She then moved to the next rack, scrutinizing what it had to offer.

She instantly fell in love with burgundy, long-sleeved off-the-shoulder top. She draped it over her arm. Satisfied with what they had found, the girls went into the dressing rooms to change. Krystal stood in front of the wall-length mirror, examining herself critically. The jeans fit perfectly. The top hugged her curves in all the right places, and she loved how slender her shoulders looked. She pulled on the denim jacket, put her shoes back on and stuffed her old clothes into her backpack.

Addy stepped out of the next cubicle, wearing a sleeveless grey cowl-neck tank top and a similar pair of black skinny jeans, with gold embroidered flowers running down the side of each leg.

They re-joined Mack and 10K, and Krystal laughed at the look of awe on 10K’s face when he saw her. She slipped her arms around his waist, stood on her toes and kissed him.

~*~

The group awoke at sunrise the next morning. They gathered their belongings and headed for the lobby. Warren, as always, led the way with her gun drawn and her back to the wall, checking for any approaching zombies.

“Coast is clear,” she said. “Let’s go.”

Keeping their weapons at the ready, they followed her lead out into the parking lot. Staying close together they walked quickly across the lot, between cars, staying under cover as much as they could. 10K was behind Krystal, but suddenly he stopped.

“Whoa, guys, check this out!” He called out. Everyone stopped to look at what he’d found. Krystal’s jaw dropped as she laid eyes on it: a car modified into a replica of the 1966 Batmobile.

“Holy shit, how cool is this?” she gushed running her hand over the sleek black paint. “Such a shame to leave it just sitting here.”

“Guys,” Warren said, exasperated. “We don’t have time for–”

“Fuck yeah, we do,” Murphy said.

“I’ll get her started,” Doc volunteered. He jimmied the driver’s side door open and climbed in, looking under the dashboard.

“By the way, Uncle Murph, I’ve been thinking,” Krystal said while Doc worked.

“Uh-oh,” he teased her playfully. “Should I be worried?”

“Oh, shush,” she scolded him, rolling her eyes. “As I was saying, I’ve been thinking and I’ve decided to change my last name.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’ve wanted to change it since Dad left,” Krystal explained. “But I could never decide what I wanted to change it to. But now, I know exactly who I want to be. As far as I’m concerned, I’m Krystal Murphy, now.” Murphy stared at her, dumbfounded.

“Aww, Krys…” he said, giving her a tight hug. He stepped back, clearing his throat, and sniffed softly.

“You’re not gonna cry, are you, Murphy?” Mack teased him.

“Shut up,” Murphy grumbled. Mack chuckled, smirking.

The car’s engine finally roared to life. Doc slid out from under the dashboard as Krystal and 10K cheered.

“There ya go!” Doc announced triumphantly.

“Sweet,” Murphy said. “I’m driving.”

He jumped in the driver’s seat. Krystal sat up front with him while 10K, Addy and Mack piled into the back seat. Murphy revved the engine a few times before pulling out of the lot, with Doc and Warren following behind in Krystal’s mother’s car.

The next leg of the journey to California had begun.

THE END

[crystalclearwaters1]

Family Ties Chapter 6

A/N: This is the second last chapter of Family Ties. Hope you guys have enjoyed reading it!

Chapter Six

“Good morning,” 10K greeted Krystal the following morning as she slowly emerged from a deep sleep. It took her a moment to remember why she was curled up against his chest.

“Morning.” She smiled up at him as he placed a soft kiss on her forehead. They got up and got dressed, and she followed him out to the kitchen where the rest of the group were waiting. Addy smiled and gave her a thumbs up.

 “Hey, 10K,” Murphy said. “Come here a minute.” Krystal and 10K shared a glance before he followed Murphy into the living room. He came back a minute later, looking a little disturbed. Krystal glanced over at her uncle, who gave her the ‘I’m watching you’ signal. 

“What was that about?” She asked 10K.

“He said he knows what’s going on between us, and that I’d better treat you like a lady or he’ll eat my brains with some fava beans and a nice Chianti.”

“Of course, he did,” she sighed with a grin, rolling her eyes. “Don’t worry, he’s all talk. My mom told me he gave my dad the same lecture when they started dating.”

The group gathered in the kitchen as Doc toasted and served up the last loaf of bread for breakfast. The stereo was playing softly in the living room. It wasn’t any of the music from Krystal’s own collection, or her parents; she assumed Citizen Z must have put one of his records on again.

“We’ve got enough food to last until tomorrow,” Warren said. “But after that, we’ll need to do another supply run. We can stay one more day but then we need to get moving.”

“Are you sure you still want to come with us to California?” Murphy asked Krystal, seriously. She nodded.

“Positive.”

She could sense his unease, but he seemed to accept her decision. Suddenly, the portable radio clipped to Addy’s belt crackled to life.

“Delta X-Ray Delta, this is Citizen Z, do you copy?” Citizen Z’s voice came through the speaker.

Addy yanked it from her belt and clicked the button.

“Citizen Z, this is Addy. We copy.”

“Addy!” Citizen Z sounded excited and relieved. “Thank God. You guys are in Colorado right now, correct?”

“Yeah,” Addy replied. “In Colorado Springs. Why, what’s up?”

“Okay, can you give me a precise location; a street name or something?”

“We’re at 517 Yucca Drive,” Krystal told him over Addy’s shoulder. “What’s going on?”

“Uh, wait,” Citizen Z replied hesitantly. “Who am I speaking with?”

“My name’s Krystal, I’m kind of a newbie in the group,” Krystal explained briefly. “We’re at my house.”

“Oh, okay,” he said, more cheerfully. “Hi, Krystal. Um, I don’t want to alarm you guys, but – well actually this is a bit alarming–”

“Get on with it,” Murphy growled from the doorway.

“There’s a horde headed in your direction. Did you say Yucca Drive?”

“Yes,” Krystal said.

“Ooh, boy. Okay, judging by these co-ordinates, you’ve got a maximum of an hour before they’re right on top of you,” Citizen Z said.

“Shit,” Warren said, pressing a hand over her forehead in frustration and walking a couple of steps away.

“Whether you choose to leave now or stay and defend your property is your decision,” Citizen Z told them. “But the package is Priority One.”

“The package has a name!” Murphy snapped.

“Roger that,” Warren said, giving Murphy a warning glare, which silenced him. “Thanks for the heads up.”

“Good luck,” Citizen Z said, and the radio clicked. He was gone. They were on their own.

“What do we want to do?” Warren asked the rest of the group.

“My top priority right now is Krystal’s safety,” Murphy said. “Besides, this is technically her house, so let’s let her decide.”

This was unexpected. Krystal’s mind raced, trying to come up with a solution.

“I say we hold out as long as we can,” she said. “If we get overrun, we make a break for it. We were planning to leave tomorrow, anyway.”

“Okay,” Warren agreed. “Let’s get this place locked up tight.”

With that, they scattered. Everyone went to a different room, checking doors and windows for any possible entry points.

Krystal ran down the hall to her room and shut the window, locking it and drawing the curtains. As she left the room, she grabbed the Beretta from her nightstand and slipped it into the holster that 10K had given her. She retrieved her scythe from its spot next to the front door and returned to the living room, shutting the radio off so that the house was silent. 10K had retrieved his rifle and was sitting on the couch, loading it. Krystal sat beside him, leaning against his shoulder. Addy and Mack were the next to reappear. Addy had the Z-Whacker slung over her shoulder and Mack’s handgun was holstered on his belt. Warren appeared, leaning against the doorframe, with her own gun holstered as well. Doc and Murphy reappeared last; Doc was armed with his crowbar. Murphy sat on Krystal’s other side, staying close to her and keeping her between himself and 10K. She felt safer with them there, if only slightly.

After what seemed like an eternity, she began to hear noises outside in the yard.

Shit, Krystal thought, a chill running down her spine. She had hoped that the zombies would simply wander through the street and pass them by. Warren quietly moved toward the front door and hit the light switch, plunging the house into darkness. Now, their only light source was the glow of the full moon through the curtains.

There was a loud, wooden thump outside in the backyard. It sounded way too close for Krystal’s liking.

“What was that?” Doc whispered. His question was followed by another thud.

“Oh, God,” Krystal whispered, her heart skipping a beat. “They’re on the back porch.”

She felt her uncle stiffen beside her, but he remained silent. Warren trained her gun on the back door, ready to shoot if she had to.

It was then that Krystal sat bolt upright with a gasp.

“Fuck!” she yelped, momentarily forgetting to stay quiet.

“What?” Warren whispered sharply.

“Did anyone lock the back door?”

No one said a word for a moment as the group exchanged terrified glances.

“Aw, hell,” Murphy said. “No. No, we did not.”

“Shit!” Krystal stood up. “I’ll get it, everyone into the garage!”

“No, Krys, don’t!” Murphy warned her, but she was already halfway to the back door. She reached out to flick the lock, when suddenly the door burst open so forcefully that the frame splintered. She screamed as she was knocked backward and five zombies came lurching through the door, snarling and snapping their jaws.

“KRYSTAL!” Murphy screamed, leaping to his feet. She heard the group rush over to defend her, and felt 10K grab her by the arm and pull her to her feet. She could taste blood, and realised that her lip was bleeding. 10K pushed her behind him, aiming his rifle and taking a shot. The first zombie went down, but by this time, several more were pushing their way through the broken door. Gunshots were going off continuously as Mack, Warren and 10K picked off zombies left and right. Krystal staggered over to the garage door, trying to open it. She finally got the door open and stumbled down the steps, with Murphy behind her. Soon after, the rest of the group followed. Krystal could still hear the zombies’ faint wheezing and growling, so she knew that not all of them were dead.

Krystal made sure the interior garage door was locked, but for good measure she also barricaded it with an old microwave and a couple of boxes filled with junk.

“That’ll hold them for a little while,” Warren said. “Stay quiet. They’re drawn to sound; if they can’t hear us, they’ll lose interest.”

“Murphy, can’t you do your zombie mind-control thing?” Mack spoke up. “Make them leave!”

“Zombie mind-control?” Krystal blinked up at her uncle.

“I’ll explain later,” he told her. he went over to the door and stood in front of it, holding his hand out toward it. There was a moment of silence, before the zombies resumed slamming themselves against the door.

“They’re not listening,” Murphy said. He looked tired, and his breathing was heavy. “All they care about is getting to a food source. They’re starving.”

“Shit!” Krystal squealed as the door’s hinges gave way. The door opened an inch or two and a Z tried to reach its gnarled, decomposing hand through the small gap, only to have the door close on it.

“Okay, we need a plan B!” Warren said, leaning with her back against the door, bracing herself with her legs.

“I have a solution,” Murphy declared confidently.

“Thank God,” Warren sighed, relieved.

“It involves fire.”

“Absolutely not,” Warren told him, rolling her eyes.

“Actually, that might not be such a bad idea,” Krystal backed her uncle up. “There’s plenty of alcohol left, we could make some Molotov cocktails.”

“Krystal, we are not setting your house on fire.”

“Why not? We’re leaving tomorrow anyway. There’s nothing left here for me.”

The barricade shifted. The door burst open and the zombies practically fell over each other in their mad rush to get into the room.

10K climbed onto the roof of the car to get a clear shot as Krystal and the others ducked. They fell one by one as he fired off seven shots in quick succession. One, however, turned its attention to Krystal. As it charged her, she yanked the Beretta from her waistband, took aim, and pulled the trigger. As the gun clicked, she realized she had forgotten to reload it. She turned and ran around the back of the car, tripping and falling as she went. She heard an odd cracking sound and felt a searing pain in her lower abdomen, but she ignored it. She rolled onto her back as the zombie loomed over her, its jaws only inches away from her face. A shot rang out, and she shut her eyes as blood and brain matter splattered everywhere.

The room was finally silent. It was over.

It was only now that Krystal paid attention to the pain in her stomach. She placed her hand over her stomach, and when she lifted it again her palm was covered in blood. She looked down and almost vomited at the sight of a spreading bloodstain on her shirt and a shard of glass sticking out of it. She pulled the shard out, blood spirting from the wound. She got up shakily and walked back around the car to where the others stood.

“Um, okay,” she said. “Slight problem.”

“Oh, shit,” Murphy said, noticing the injury himself. “Krys!”

Krystal’s head was buzzing, and her vision was starting to tunnel. She felt herself slumping to the ground, and only faintly felt 10K’s hand on the back of her head, preventing it from hitting the floor as she fainted.

she opened her eyes again to find herself lying on the garage floor, with Murphy and 10K crouching beside her. 10K was still supporting her head.

“Oh, thank God,” Murphy said, stroking her forehead. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“Don’t try to sit up too fast, Krys,” Doc warned her. “You got lucky; the wound wasn’t too deep. There was an old lightbulb on the floor; I guess you landed on it when you tripped. I’ve put a couple of stitches in and bandaged you up, but you’re probably gonna be a little light-headed since you fainted, and all.”

“Thanks, Doc,” she said weakly. The wound still stung, but when she placed her hand over it, it was no longer bleeding.

“D’you need anything for the pain?” the older man asked. He held up the old backpack he always carried with him. “I should have something in here.”

“Yeah, thanks,” she replied. He rummaged around until he found a bottle of Oxycodone. He handed her a pill and she dry-swallowed it.

“I think this is our queue to get back on the road,” Warren said. “There’s bound to be more Z’s out there, it’s not safe here anymore.”

“Does the car still work?” Mack asked.

“Yeah, it does,” Krystal said, suddenly remembering. “I haven’t driven it for a while because I wanted to save the gas for when I really needed it. We’ll all fit, but someone might have to ride in the trunk.”

“Okay, let’s go,” Warren said. “I’m driving.”

Mack went around behind the car and hauled the garage roller door open. Light-headed but able to stand, Krystal went up the garage steps and retrieved her scythe and her mother’s keys from the hook on the wall on the other side of the door, and gave them to Warren. Murphy took the front passenger seat while Doc, Addy and Mack climbed in the back. Krystal opened the tailgate, revealing a large, open compartment behind the back seat. She and 10K loaded the few belongings everyone had into the trunk and then climbed in. they shut the tailgate behind them and lay side-by-side, leaning against the back of the rear seats.

Thankfully, the car started. They backed out down the driveway and pulled out into the street. As they began to drive away, Krystal took one last look at what had been her home for the last four years.

[crystalclearwaters1]

Family Ties Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Krystal hauled herself out of bed the next morning and rummaged through her closet for something to wear. She pulled on some black denim jeans and a white tank top, over which she wore an oversized, button-up black-and-white plaid shirt. She finished the look with her black Converse shoes. She could hear movement and voices in the kitchen, and the sound of the shower being shut off, indicating that the others were already up. She exited her bedroom and wandered into the kitchen.

“Morning everyone,” she mumbled. She was not a morning person. She shuffled over and gave Murphy a hug.

“Forgive me if this joke is in poor taste considering the current state of the world,” he said, running his fingers through her long dark-brown hair. “But you look like a zombie, kid.”

“That’s ‘cause my brain’s not functioning yet,” she retorted, going over to the table and flopping into a chair. “Just gimme a couple of hours and I’ll be fine.” Just down the hall, 10K emerged from the bathroom. His hair was freshly washed, and he wore nothing but his camouflage pants. Krystal felt a heat rush through her, and she blinked, shook her head, and suddenly became fascinated by the kitchen floor. 10K joined them in the kitchen soon after, having put on a black t-shirt and his boots.

Once breakfast was over, Krystal felt much more human. While Doc and Murphy were setting up for a game of poker, Addy approached her.

“Hey, Krys,” she said. “Can we talk?”

“Sure,” Krystal agreed. the two girls retreated into Krystal’s bedroom and sat down on the bed.

“So,” Addy began. “What’s going on with you and 10K?” Krystal’s heart skipped a beat and she blinked.

“Uh…nothing,” she spluttered, trying to cover up her nerves. “Should there be something going on?”

“If you want it to,” Addy replied slyly. When Krystal didn’t say anything, she gave her a gentle smile and continued. “C’mon Krys, I’ve seen the way you look at him. I’ve seen how he looks at you, too.”

“What?” Krystal squeaked. “He…okay, I’m not gonna deny it. What do you think I should do?”

“Honestly? I think you should go for it.”

“But…I mean, we hardly know each other…”

“Honey, it’s the apocalypse,” Addy laughed kindly.  “I think the normal rules of dating are out the window at this point. Mack and I never officially ‘dated’; we just sort of…happened.”

“Really?”

“Mm-hmm. He saved me from a bunch of Z’s at a hockey game at the start of the outbreak. It was just the two of us from then on, until we met Warren and Doc and Garnett.”

“Who?” Krystal had never heard that name before.

“Oh. Charles Garnett,” Addy explained. “He was sort of our leader for a while, but we…lost him.”

“Z’s?” Krystal asked.

“Nope, he was shot. He died a hero, though.”

“Really? What happened?”

“Um…long story short, someone tried to shoot Murphy and Garnett took the bullet for him.”

“Oh, my God.” Krystal tried not to imagine her uncle being shot at.

“Yeah, he was a good guy. It broke Warren’s heart to have to mercy him.”

“Mercy?”

“Oh, yeah,” Addy said, realizing that Krystal was probably unfamiliar with their slang. “It’s what we call it when we have to kill zombies – giving them mercy. You know, because being dead is better than…being like that.”

“Hmm,” Krystal agreed. “It sure would be.”

“Anyway, think about what I said. I think you two would be great together.”

Addy winked, and left Krystal to take some time to herself, to figure out what she wanted to do.

~*~

10K approached Krystal the following morning after breakfast. He had his black weapons bag slung over his shoulder.

“Hey, Krys,” he said. “Can you come outside with me? I’ve got something to show you.”

“Sure,” she replied, following him out into the backyard. They stood behind the tree near the back fence, a good distance away from the house.

“I have something for you,” 10K said, reaching into the bag and pulled out a sleek black 9mm Beretta handgun.

“I’ve had this as part of my arsenal for a while, but I want you to have it,” 10K said. “Your scythe is great, but it’s always good to have a secondary weapon.”

He handed it to her, letting her get a feel for it. She was surprised at how comfortable she felt holding it.

“I love it,” she said. “Where’d you get it?”

“Salvaged it off a dead security guard at a mall,” 10K explained. “Ever used one before?”

“Not a Beretta,” she said. “I’ve used a Glock, though.”

“Okay, well, they’re not too different,” he said. “I’ll give you a lesson, though, just so you can get comfortable with this one.”

He moved to stand beside her.

“Okay, we’re gonna start with your grip,” he said. “With your dominant hand, tuck your last three fingers under the trigger guard with your palm as high on the backstrap as possible.”

“Like this?” Krystal asked.

“Yeah, perfect,” he approved. “Now, with your left hand, rotate your wrist so your fingers are pointing down and your thumb is lined up with the barrel. Then, wrap your fingers around under the trigger guard. Perfect, you’re a natural.”

Krystal’s stomach fluttered as he praised her.

“Grip it tight with both hands so that when you shoot it doesn’t recoil too much.”

She tightened her grip a little, until it felt secure.

“Okay,” 10K said. “Next is your stance. Hold the gun at arm’s length and lean forward a bit so your weight is on your toes. Keep your feet apart, about the same width as your shoulders.”

Krystal shuffled her legs a bit until her feet were in the correct position.

“Okay, let’s give it a shot. Pun fully intended,” 10K said with a smirk. “Aim at your target.”

It was then that Krystal noticed that he had lined up a few tin cans on top of the backyard fence. Krystal aimed at one of them, trying to keep her hands from shaking.

“Take a deep breath, and let it out slowly.” Krystal breathed in, and blew out through slightly pursed lips.

“Okay, now squeeze the trigger.”

She obeyed. A shot rang out, followed by a loud clang as the can was knocked off the fence.

“Oh, my God, I hit it!”

“Damn, that was really good,” 10K said, his tone a blend of surprise and approval. “Let’s go again.”

Krystal fired again. The second can flipped in the air as it was struck and fell to the ground.

“Holy shit, that was awesome,” 10K laughed. “Hey, Murphy! You gotta come see this!”

“What?” Murphy asked, appearing at the back door. 10K waved him over, and he came down the steps to join them. 10K gave Krystal a nod, and she fired off three more shots.

“Crap, I missed the third one,” she groused.

“Damn, girl, remind me never to get on your bad side,” Murphy said, impressed.

“Just don’t start telling any embarrassing stories from my childhood and we won’t have a problem,” Krystal said with a grin.

“Deal.”

“See, you’re a natural,” 10K said.

“Well, you’re also a great teacher,” Krystal replied. He grinned and his face flushed pink again.

He disappeared back inside the house, while Krystal and Murphy sat together on the grass beneath the tree, beside her mother’s grave. She watched as he placed a hand on the disturbed earth where her mother was buried.

“Love you, sis,” he said in a low tone. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

Her heart aching at the pain in his voice, Krystal moved close and rested her chin on her uncle’s shoulder.  They sat in silence for a while until they heard the back door open. Doc and 10K stepped out onto the back porch. Krystal’s stomach fluttered strangely when she saw 10K. She shook her head a little, ignoring the sensation, and followed her uncle back to the house.

“You good, Murph?” Doc asked gently, noticing Murphy’s subdued demeanour. He nodded, and Doc passed him a hand-rolled cigarette. He lit it up, and Krystal noticed the smell immediately. She’d never tried weed before, but she knew what it smelled like thanks to her mother’s habit.

Well, if I’m ever gonna get a chance to try it, I guess there’s no time like the Apocalypse, she thought to herself.

“Can I have some?” she asked, giving Doc her best puppy-dog look.  “Pleeeease?”

“Better ask your uncle,” Doc grinned.

“Go ahead,” Murphy chuckled. “You’re nineteen, I don’t care what you do.” Doc lit up another joint and passed it to her.

“Don’t inhale too much at first,” Doc warned her. She took a drag and coughed as the smoke tickled her throat. The smoke was hot and slightly earthy, and it made her chest burn a little at first.

“Tastes like…I don’t even know,” she said, coughing again. The affects crept on slowly at first, before they hit her solidly. Her entire body felt heavy, as though she was being weighed down.

“Oh, hello gravity,” she laughed. She flopped down beside 10K on the porch swing, giggling. She gasped as she suddenly realised something.

“Hey, I never thanked you properly for saving me the other day,” she told him. “That was a damn good shot.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied with a grin, taking a puff from his own joint and relaxing back into the cushioned seat of the porch swing.

“Seriously, you’re a legend,” Krystal said. She looked up at Doc and Murphy. “Have you seen this guy shoot? He’s like Annie Oakley, but y’know…not a chick.” 10K apparently found this remark very amusing and dissolved into laughter, which in turn set Krystal off.

“Doc, what did you do to my niece?” Murphy said, although he was laughing too. “I think you broke her. What’s in this stuff?”

“Nothin’, just plaid ordinary weed,” Doc insisted.

“Don’t worry Uncle Murph, it’s just a little buzz,” Krystal insisted.

“Honey, you’re not just buzzing,” Murphy said. “You’re an entire freaking beehive.”

“Bzzzz,” Krystal responded, giggling again. She swung her legs up onto the arm of the swing, resting her head in 10K’s lap.

“You’re my pillow now,” she told him matter-of-factly, taking another pull on her joint. “You’re not allowed to move.”

“M’kay,” he agreed. Krystal noticed his face flushing slightly pink again.

Aww, he’s blushing, she thought. Lifting her hand up as high as gravity would allow, she poked him gently on the tip of his nose. Her hand then flopped back down, slapping her in the face.

“Ow,” she complained, glaring at her hand as though it had consciously attacked her. Doc, Murphy and 10K laughed.

“Well,” Murphy said after a while. “We’d better get back inside before Warren sends out a search party.”

Krystal tried to sit up, but gravity wouldn’t allow it. She flopped back down onto 10K’s lap.

“I don’t think I can move,” she whined.

“Well, I can’t carry you, you’re not five years old anymore,” Murphy replied. “When did you get so grown up? Damn it, I’ve missed out on so much…”

“Six years,” Krystal agreed. Her chest felt tight as the emotions bubbled up inside her, which blamed on the weed. “Six years since we last saw each other. Fucking justice system.”

Doc clapped Murphy on the back and led him back inside, while Krystal and 10K struggled to their feet. 10K draped Krystal’s arm over his muscular shoulder and helped her back inside. Warren, Mack and Addy were seated at the dining table. Warren looked up as the four of them entered the room.

“How high are you guys right now?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Considerably,” Murphy replied. This sent Krystal into a fit of giggles again.

“You should probably lie down,” 10K said.

“You are correct, sir,” she agreed. 10K half-carried her into her bedroom and laid her down on the bed. She felt like she was sinking into the mattress. It wasn’t an altogether pleasant sensation.

“Don’t let the bed eat me,” she pleaded with 10K.

“It’s not gonna eat you,” the boy reassured her gently.

“How come you’re not all…wooooo?” Krystal asked, twirling her finger around her head in a ‘loopy’ gesture.

“I guess it just doesn’t hit me as hard,” 10K replied with a grin. He sounded like he was suppressing a laugh. “This is your first time; it’s bound to feel weird. Just try to sleep it off. I’ll come check on you later.”

“M’kay.”

As his footsteps faded down the hallway, Krystal rolled over onto her side and began to drift off.

~*~

When 10K returned to check on her a few hours later, the high had worn off and had been replaced by an intense feeling of hunger.

“I think I just found out what the munchies feels like,” she said. “Damn I’m starving.”

“Good thing dinner’s ready, then,” he chuckled. She jumped up and followed him eagerly to the kitchen.

When the meal was over and her high and worn off, Krystal helped Warren with the dishes.

“I’m gonna go check the generator,” she said when they were done, opening the interior door that led to the garage.

“I’ll give you a hand,” Mack said. He followed her down the three steps into the garage, which was mostly well-kept but a little dusty. Since living alone, Krystal never bothered to clean up in there.

She and Mack examined the generator, and established that it was still in good working order. As Krystal stepped back away from it, her heel connected with something on the floor under one of the shelves on the wall.  There was the distinct clinking sound of glass bottles bumping together. Krystal looked down to see a large cardboard box, mostly hidden under an old, battered, slightly mouldy shower curtain.

“What the hell?” she muttered, lifting up the shower curtain to investigate. The box was filled with bottles of premixed Jack and Coke, and two six packs of beer. “Are you kidding me?”

“What?” Mack asked.

“I think I just found the secret stash of booze my mom had hidden down here,” she said, picking up one of the bottles and examining it. “’Trying to quit drinking’ my ass.”

“Nice find,” Mack said. “Might as well make use of it.”

“Good point. Guess we’re having a party tonight,” Krystal agreed. Mack picked up the box and carried it back up the stairs.  

~*~ The party was in full swing. Music was playing – loud enough to be heard but not so loud that it would attract Z’s – and everyone was drinking and having a good time. Krystal and 10K were sitting together on one of the two couches in the living room. Feeling warm and fuzzy from the bottle of Jack and Coke she was drinking, Krystal worked up the courage to take Addy’s advice.

“So, 10K, you come here often?” She asked. “Wait, of course you don’t, this is my house. God, I’m so bad at this!” Addy giggled from her spot next to Mack on the other couch.

“Bad at what?” 10K asked. Then he blinked, looking surprised. “Are you…flirting with me?”

“Trying to,” she admitted. She giggled as his face flushed pink. “Ha, made you blush!”

“Go easy on him Krys, 10K’s not very experienced with girls, are ya kid?” Murphy said with a laugh.

“Leave him alone, Murphy,” Warren reprimanded him with a grin.

“Just stating the facts, Roberta.”

“So, 10K, tell me about yourself,” Krystal continued the conversation, ignoring her uncle’s antics.

“What do you want to know?” He asked, taking a swig from his own Jack and Coke.

“Anything. Like... what were you doing when everything went to shit?”

He hesitated, sharing a quick glance with Doc, but then told her everything about having to kill his own father before he turned. Krystal was momentarily struck dumb. 

“Wow,” she finally managed to find her voice again. “Shit, 10K, I’m sorry. I had to do the same to my mom…”

“You did?”

“Yeah. She died of an overdose, and then she turned, so…”

“Damn,” he said, looking at her with sympathy in his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“I guess that’s one thing we have in common, huh?”

“Yeah…so, okay, my turn,” he swiftly changed the subject to lighten the mood. “What’s it like being Murphy’s niece?”

“Be careful how you answer that one, Krys,” Murphy said teasingly.

“Hey, quit eavesdropping, you,” she told him off with a laugh. She threw a couch cushion at him, which he promptly caught. “We’ve always been close, although we didn’t see each other as much as I would’ve liked to, since he and my Dad weren’t exactly best buds. I was thirteen when he went to prison.”

“Oh, yeah. Hey Murphy, what were you in prison for anyway?”

“I was an entrepreneur whose company underperformed due to market conditions that were beyond my control,” Murphy replied, puffing out his chest a bit.

“Uh…huh.” 10K blinked.

“Postal fraud, kid. Punishable by five years’ imprisonment,” Murphy explained more clearly. “I was two years in when the apocalyptic shit hit the fan. Hey, who’s up for a game of poker?”

“Ah, what the hell, why not?” Warren said. She and Doc followed Murphy to the dining table, leaving the four younger members of the group to hang out together. Soon, the four of them were on their feet, dancing as though Krystal’s living room was a nightclub. Addy and Mack were twirling around on the spot, and 10K had his arms around Krystal’s waist. The alcohol had apparently helped to relax him, as well.

Addy shot Krystal a look from over Mack’s shoulder. Krystal took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She wrapped her arms around 10K’s neck, and stood on her toes in an attempt to match his height. She pulled his head down a bit, and before she knew it her lips were pressed against his. He paused momentarily, before leaning into the kiss, just as enthusiastically. The closer he leaned in, the more she pulled him toward her, until the two of them fell onto the couch in a heap. Addy and Mack cheered.

“Get a room, you two,” Murphy called from the dining table. He was trying to sound intimidating, but Krystal detected the hint of a laugh in his voice.

“Gladly, it’s getting late anyway,” she said hurriedly, pulling 10K to his feet. “Good night!” She grabbed him by the hand and lead him to her bedroom. He kicked off his shoes and pulled off his shirt, until he wore nothing but his cargo pants. She looked him up and down, biting her bottom lip. He looked away as she undressed and pulled on her oversized Metallica t-shirt and then the two of them crawled into her bed.

“You know that song you played the other night?” 10K asked, running his fingers through her hair as she lay with her head on his chest.

“The Trisha Yearwood one?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“It kind of…resonated with me.”

“Really?” She lifted her head a little and looked up at him.

“Yeah. My real name’s Tommy.” It only occurred to her now that she’d never asked what his real name was, nor had any the others mentioned it.

“It is? Really?”

“Yeah. Well, it was, before the apocalypse,” he said. “I don’t use it anymore. The others don’t even know.”

“Huh. Tommy. I guess that could be our song then, huh?”

He smiled, and nodded eagerly.

“Will you go back to it, after you kill 10,000 Z’s?”

“Nah, I’m gonna change it.”

“To what?” Krystal asked.

“Jeff,” he said, matter-of-factly. “I like the name Jeff.”

Krystal smiled and laid her head back down in the curve where his neck met his shoulder.

“I like the name Jeff too.”

[crystalclearwaters1]

For anyone who wants a better idea of what Krystal looks like, I found this pic on Pinterest that matches the image in my head pretty well.

[crystalclearwaters1]

Family Ties Chapter 4

Chapter Four

The following evening, the group were gathered in the living room again. Krystal stole a glance at 10K – their eyes met, and he glanced away and focussed on fidgeting with his slingshot, a pink flush rising in his cheeks. Krystal distracted herself by rifling through her parents’ music collection.

“The stereo still works thanks to the generator,” she explained, inserting one of her mother’s country music CDs into the machine.

“My Mom always liked this song,” she commented, as Trisha Yearwood’s She’s in Love with the Boy began to play. “She said it reminded her of when she first started dating my dad.”

“Yeah, your grandpa didn’t like him much,” Murphy agreed.

“Neither did you,” Krystal said. “I guess you were both right, though. Bit of a deadbeat, in the end.” Everyone was silent for a moment.

“I’m glad these CDs still work, because the radio only picks up one channel,” Krystal said, wanting to change the subject to something –anything– other than her parents. “Citizen Z. he plays a lot of old records, but lately he’s been spending a lot of time in contact with this military group…Delta X-Ray Delta. Sounds like they’re on a mission. Something called…Operation Bitemark?” The entire room stared at her, and felt Murphy stiffen slightly beside her.

“You…you heard all that?” He asked, apprehensively.

“Some of it. Why?” She noticed her uncle shooting a glance at Warren.  The woman sighed, obviously thinking hard about something.

“Might as well fill her in.” Krystal looked at Murphy, and he took a deep breath.

“The day the letters stopped coming,” He began slowly. “That was the day the experiment started.”

Krystal listened in disbelief as he told her everything that had happened while he was in prison. She could barely believe what she was hearing.

“Wait,” she cut him off, shaking her head. “You’re the package he keeps talking about?” Murphy nodded, wordlessly.

“So, this doctor shows up and just decides to use you as her guinea pig?” Krystal spluttered, getting up and pacing back and forth in the middle of the room. 

“Krys, calm down–”

“No, I’m not gonna calm down!” She yelled. “Jesus, Uncle Murph, what did that bitch do to you?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Murphy said. “I’m alive, aren’t I? I’m okay–”

“Are you, though?” Krystal demanded. “She strapped you to a gurney, injected you with God knows what and then basically left you to be torn apart and you expect me to believe you’re okay?” Murphy didn’t respond, and avoided eye contact with her.

“I’m going with you,” Krystal said. That got his attention, and he looked back up at her with wide eyes.

“What?”

“To California, I’m going with you.”

“No! No, absolutely not,” Murphy said sharply. “Krystal, I don’t want you getting involved with this.”

“I’m pretty much already involved since you’ve told me everything.”

“Krystal–”

“Hold on a second, you two,” Warren spoke up, interrupting the argument. “Normally I’d be against the idea too, but in this case, she’d be safter with us than left here on her own. Besides, I don’t have it in me to split you two up again after so long.”

“Warren…” Murphy growled, warningly, but Warren gave him a firm look. He sighed.

“Fine,” he relented. “But I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

[crystalclearwaters1]

Family Ties Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Standing at the kitchen sink, Krystal stroked the sharpening stone along the cutting edge of the blade in repeated motions, keeping her touch firm but not forced. After the fifth stroke, she dipped the stone into the grey water, washing off small flecks of steel and grit that had gathered, careful not to scratch the scythe’s blade. Pleased with the result, she wiped down the blade with an oiled rag, smiling to herself as it glinted in the sunlight. Wrapping the blade in the rag, she gazed out the window above the sink, into the backyard.  The grass, once lush and green, was dying.

With a heavy sigh, Krystal turned away from the window. Taking a hair-tie from her pocket, she pulled her shoulder-length, chocolate-brown hair up into a high ponytail. She grabbed her backpack and unzipped it, tossing the scythe in with the handle easily within reach. Opening the front door as quietly as she could she stepped out onto the porch and surveyed her surroundings. Right now, the streets were quiet as most of the zombies didn’t wander by until sunset, which wasn’t for another two hours. Taking a breath and squaring her shoulders, Krystal stepped down off the porch and began her journey. She walked quickly, eyes and ears alert, the hot asphalt crunching under the soles of her black Converse shoes.

Krystal breathed a sigh of relief and brushed the sweat from her forehead when she finally arrived at the local store. The automatic doors no longer worked, but were conveniently stuck in the Open position, granting Krystal easy access. She paused just inside the entrance and listened, trying to hear any sounds besides her own pounding heartbeat. She heard nothing but the buzzing of the only fluorescent light that still worked, which was flickering on and off like a strobe light above her head. Satisfied that there was no danger, she got to work. Moving swiftly, she made her way up and down the aisles. The shelves were mostly empty, but she managed to snag a few items; a package of instant rice, a can of Spam and a can of tuna, a bottle of pre-made pancake mix and a bag of frozen mixed vegetables.

“I’m sure I can do something with these,” she muttered to herself as she filled her backpack with her new supplies. Slinging it back over her shoulder, she turned back toward the door and stopped dead in her tracks. A pack of six zombies had wandered into the parking lot outside, uncomfortably close to the front doors. Hardly daring to breathe, Krystal watched as they staggered and shuffled about, emitting those blood-curdling hisses and grunts she was now far too familiar with. She reached over her shoulder and slid her scythe from her backpack, gripping the handle tightly. With her other hand, she extended the retractable handle to its full length. She swallowed hard, and marched toward the door.  The zombies turned on her immediately. The one closest to her – a tall, skinny male with a black-and-red plaid shirt and blue jeans – lurched toward her, snapping his ravenous jaws. She stepped back, dodging him, and swung her weapon defensively. The blade collided with the side of his head, sending blood splattering into the air. He growled and stumbled, but kept coming. Krystal held the scythe low and swung it upward, as though she were swinging a golf club. The hooked blade entered below the zombie’s chin and exiting through the top of his head. She pulled the weapon free as the first zombie went down. however, the others were now far too close. Her adrenaline pumping, Krystal dodged them, holding the scythe at arm’s length as though she thought it would frighten them into backing off. She dropped her backpack, hoping that losing the excess weight would allow her to move more quickly. She swung the scythe again, but fumbled and dropped it.

“Shit!” she yelled, as two zombies closed in on either side of her. She backed away, fighting the urge to drop to the ground and retrieve her weapon. They were way too close…

“HEY!” A girl’s voice yelled form somewhere to her left, drawing the zombies’ attention away from Krystal. She looked up to see a young, auburn-haired woman, probably only a couple of years older than her, running up toward her. She was armed with a baseball bat covered in spikes. A young, blonde-haired man was on her heels, carrying a handgun. The girl swung her weapon and smashed it against the head of one of the zombies, caving in the entire right side of its skull. It grunted and dropped to the ground, while the young man fired a shot at the one on her left. It missed, grazing the creature’s shoulder, but a second shot entered at the bridge of its nose and it fell instantly, the back of its head exploding outward. Krystal was just beginning to get her bearings when a third shot rang out. A bullet skimmed through the air, inches away from Krystal’s ear, and blew away half of the last zombie’s head with a splatter that made Krystal imagine a watermelon being blown apart by a stick of dynamite. It, too, fell with a sickening thud. It was over. Breathing hard, Krystal straightened up.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt your moment of badassery there,” The young woman said, picking up Krystal’s scythe and handing it back to her. “But you looked like you were getting a bit overwhelmed.”

“Thanks,” Krystal said gratefully, retracting the handle and slipping her weapon back into her backpack. “Nice bat, by the way.”

“Thanks, I call it the Z-Whacker,” The redhead replied with a kind smile, reaching out for a handshake. “I’m Addy, and this is Mack.”

“I’m Krystal,” Krystal replied, shaking her hand. She gestured to one of the corpses on the ground at their feet. “Hey, which one of you shot that one? That bullet came out of nowhere, that’s some serious skill!” Addy opened her mouth to respond, when they heard hurried footsteps. Another young man, taller than Krystal by a few inches, with a fair complexion and scruffy black hair that reached the nape of his neck, came running around the corner carrying a rifle.

“That would be 10k,” Addy smiled. “Quite possibly the best sniper in the entire Apocalypse. 10k, this is Krystal.”

“Hi,” he said, the corners of his lips curling into a smile. Krystal’s stomach fluttered as she looked him up and down, taking in how attractive he was.

Wait, what? Did she really just think that? Actually, she wasn’t wrong. He was good-looking.  She shuffled a little, hoping that she wasn’t blushing.

“Hi…Tenkay? Is that, like, Korean or something…?” Krystal cringed inwardly, hating herself immediately for asking such a question.

 “It’s short for 10,000.”

“That’s not a name,” Krystal said with a good-natured giggle. “It’s a number.” Mack chuckled as well.

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” 10 grinned. “It’s the number of zombies I’m going to kill.”

“Ah. How many have you killed so far?”

“Including this one, 3,485.”

“That’s…impressive,” Krystal said, raising her eyebrows in awe. “Wow. Including these two, I’ve only killed three.”

“Are you out here by yourself?” Addy asked.

“Yeah, but I live just a couple of blocks away,” Krystal said. “What about you guys?”

“We’re travelling,” Mack told her. “To California.”

“Oh. Well, hey, this is probably a bit forward of me since we just met, but it’ll be getting dark soon. You guys are totally welcome to crash at my place for the night; it’s safer to travel by day.”

“You sure?” Addy asked.

“Absolutely.”

“That’s sweet of you,” Addy smiled. “We could all use a break.”

“Might stop Murphy from bitching for a little while,” Mack said, eliciting a soft laugh from 10k.

“We should regroup with the others and then you can lead the way,” Addy said.

“There are more of you?”

“Three others,” Mack said. “Warren will wanna keep moving, but it won’t kill us to get off the road for a bit. C’mon, let’s go find them.”

Krystal followed 10k’s lead, with Addy and Mack on either side of her. They rounded the corner behind the store, walking back onto Cherry Avenue.  Up ahead, a dark-skinned woman stood beside the road under a tree, talking to a tall, older man with a scruffy white beard and shoulder-length, curly white hair.

“Damn, we’re completely out of gas,” She heard the woman grumble. “Can’t believe we didn’t think to fuel up…”

“Warren!” Addy called out to them. “Doc!”

“Hey, there you are!” The older man greeted them cheerfully. “Who’s your new friend?”

“This is Krystal. We found her at the Dollar General,” Addy explained. “She was outnumbered by Z’s.”

“They didn’t just find me; they saved my ass,” Krystal told Warren modestly.

“Lt. Roberta Warren, Missouri National Guard,” Warren said in a tone like she was reporting for duty, giving Krystal a firm handshake. “Good to meet you, Krystal.”

“Hey, Krystal. I’m Doc. I guess you could say I’m the medic of our little crew here,” The older man said jovially. “Anything you need, I gotcha covered.”

“Great to meet you guys. Mack and Addy said you guys are travelling to California?”

“Yeah,” Warren replied. “You could say we’re on a mission.”

“Well, like I said to these guys, if you need a place to crash for the night, I live nearby.”

“Oh, we wouldn’t want to impose–” Warren started but Krystal shook her head reassuringly.

“Oh, no, it’s no problem, really. I owe you guys. If Addy, Mack and 10K hadn’t shown up at the store when they did, I’d be zombie chow.”

“Well…okay,” Warren agreed. “I guess we could all use a break. Thanks, Krystal.”

“Hey, there’s someone you haven’t met yet,” Mack spoke up. “Where’s Murph–” The truck’s door clicked open.

“Krystal?” Krystal’s whole body went numb at the familiarity of the man’s voice. She took a stumbling, involuntary step back, cupping her hands over her mouth in shock, before throwing herself into Murphy’s arms. She barely realized she was crying until she felt the tears running down her face. She burrowed her face into the warmth of his chest, feeling his arms close tightly around her.

“Oh my God, Krystal…”

“It’s r-really you,” Krystal stammered. “I-I thought you were probably dead. I mean, you had to be–”

“Shh. It’s okay. I’m here.”

“Wait, you two know each other?” Warren asked, dubiously.

“She’s my niece,” Murphy said. Krystal heard a soft, collective intake of breath from Addy and Mack.

“Well, isn’t this great!” Doc said cheerfully. “What are the odds, huh? Nothin’ livens up a zombie apocalypse like a family reunion!” Krystal choked out a laugh through her tears.

“Well, now we definitely need to take you up on that offer, Krystal,” Warren said. “It’ll give you two some time to reconnect.”

~*~

“It’s just like the photos your mom sent,” Murphy said, looking up at the house as Krystal led the way up onto the front porch. “A bit run-down, but other than that…” Krystal opened the door and flicked on the hallway light.

“You still have power?” Warren asked, sounding surprised.

“A generator, in the garage,” Krystal said, dropping her backpack by the door. “Most useful thing my father ever did, setting that thing up.” Murphy chuckled, knowingly. As far back as Krystal could remember, he and her father had never been particularly fond of each other.

“We also have our own water tanks, but I can’t promise there’ll be hot water,” Krystal explained apologetically. “The water heater doesn’t always work.” After a quick tour of the house, Warren, Doc and 10K settled in the living room while Addy and Mack went into the kitchen to start throwing something together for dinner.  Krystal went into the master bedroom, and Murphy followed. They sat down on the bed, her leaning against the pillows and him perching at the foot.

“Where are your parents?” Murphy asked. She hesitated before answering, unable to look her uncle in the eye.

“They’re…gone.”

“You’re alone?” He sounded horrified. She nodded mutely, still avoiding making eye contact with him.

“How long?”

“Ages, now. Dad left just before Black Summer,” Krystal tried to keep her voice steady. “Mom and I let a couple of my friends stay with us for a while after their…their families all…”

She trailed off.

“Oh, jeez,” Murphy sighed.

“The three of us went on a supply run and we…we got outnumbered by Z’s…” She pushed on, choking on the lump that was forming in her throat. “I couldn’t save them.”

“Krys, it’s not your fault.” She felt her uncle’s hand on her shoulder, gently.

“It’s not just that, Uncle Murph, I couldn’t save Mom either!” She forced herself to look up at him, and flinched at the horror etched on his face.

“Shelby?” he asked, barely above a whisper. “Oh, God. Krys, what happened?”

Krystal swallowed hard, trying to reign in her emotions.

“She…she was never the same after they locked you up,” she rushed on. “That’s why we moved out here. A fresh start, y’know. But she just couldn’t handle it. She started drinking, and she got into drugs…it’s why Dad left. He tried so hard to reason with her but…she changed. So, he just left.  It was just the four of us – mom and my friends and I – until six months ago. One day my friends and I went on a supply run and…they both got killed.  I came home and told Mom and she… I think she blamed herself, since we’d gone to get something for her…I got up the next morning and I found her and she…she’d turned, and I had to... Jesus, Uncle Murph, I’m so sorry. I had to–” She couldn’t go on, and broke down sobbing. Her heart broke all over again as the memories flashed through her mind.

“No, no, no, don’t you be sorry,” Murphy said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and cupping her chin in his other hand. “Krys, look at me. You did what was best, for both of you. Okay? I’m just sorry I wasn’t here. You should never have had to do that yourself.”

He held her in silence until she was finally calm again.

“She never gave up on you,” she told him. “Your letters…she kept them all. Right up until the day they stopped coming.” Any further discussion was interrupted by Doc summoning them for dinner. When the meal was over, the group sat up and talked late into the night. For the first time in months, Krystal felt like she was surrounded by friends and family again.

[crystalclearwaters1]

Family Ties Chapter 2

Chapter Two

When the sun rose the next morning, the house was silent. Krystal didn’t understand; her mother was usually up early cooking breakfast. She got up and walked quietly to her bedroom door, opening it just a crack and peering out.

“Mom?” she called. There was no answer, but Krystal thought she heard movement in her mother’s room. She opened the door further and ventured across the hall to her mother’s door. She knocked, but there was no response. She put her ear to the door, and could definitely hear movement.

“Mom? Are you okay?”

She listened again, and could faintly make out an odd moaning sound. That was enough to worry her, so she opened the door.

Shelby was standing at the side of her bed with her back to the door. When it opened, she snapped her head around to look at Krystal, and Krystal choked on a scream. Her mother’s face was pallid and gaunt, and her eyes were that lifeless, murky grey.

“Mom,” Krystal whimpered. “No…”

With a snarl, Shelby charged at the door, and Krystal slammed it shut, locking it. A series of bangs followed as Shelby tried to break through the door.

“Oh, fuck,” Krystal choked, leaning with her back against the door. “Fuck! Fuck! No…Mom, no…”

There was no one she could call.

Her father was long gone and hadn’t left any contact information. Krystal hadn’t spoken to him in almost three years.

Her only other relative was her uncle, but she hadn’t seen or heard from him in six years; she had no idea if he was even still alive.

You have no choice, she told herself. You have to do it.

Composing herself as much as she could, Krystal retrieved the revolver from her bag. She unlocked the door and opened it, and her mother came bursting out, snarling and rasping and snapping her teeth.

“I love you, Mom,” Krystal said, raising the gun. “I’m sorry.”

She pulled the trigger, and screamed in anguish as the shot rang out. It missed. Her hand shaking, she fired again, nicking her mother in the shoulder. Sobbing and slumping against the wall behind her, Krystal fumbled with the gun before firing a third shot. Instinctively she pulled the trigger again, but the gun clicked. It was empty, and she had no bullets left to reload it with. The bullet entered her mother’s face, just above her top lip, shattering everything. It exited the back of her head, spraying blood and brain matter across the wall behind her. Shelby’s body hit the floor with a sickening thud. Krystal dropped the gun, buckled at the waist and vomited. Gasping and heaving, her entire body flushed hot, she sat down on the bed and examined the pill bottles. One was Ambien, the other was aspirin. The Ambien still had a few pills in it, but the aspirin was empty.

“Fuck, she took all of these,” Krystal said aloud, picking up the empty aspirin bottle. “She killed herself.”

Then, it hit her. Her mother had felt guilty over sending her to Diego’s house. Did she blame herself for Piper and Aubrey’s deaths?

Krystal broke down again. She lay on the bed, sobbing into the pillows, which still smelled like her mother. Soon, the sobs became howls, and she screamed into the pillows until her throat felt raw. She sat up, and gathered up the remaining Ambien pills from where they had spilled out of the bottle onto the bed. She stared at them for several seconds, disjointed thoughts rattling inside her head.

I’ve got nothing now. They’re all dead. I’ve got no one. What’s the point? Just do it. Do it.

Tilting her head back and tipping the pills into her mouth, she dry-swallowed them. They tasted bitter as they stuck to her tongue briefly before going down. She lay back against the pillows and waited. It didn’t take long for her body to begin to react.

Her stomach cramped violently and she curled into a ball with her arms wrapped around her abdomen. Her head began to throb, and she could hear her pulse in her ears and feel it in her head.

Water, she thought hazily. She tried to stand, but stumbled.

She managed to stagger her way into the kitchen, tripping over her own feet as though she had been drinking heavily. Shakily she filled a glass with water and downed it, spilling some down the front of her shirt.

“Hmm, fuck,” she slurred, fruitlessly trying to brush the wet patch off.

She stumbled back to her mother’s room, stopping in the hallway to vomit up the water she had just drunk, as well as fragments of undigested pills. Going back into the bedroom she lay back down, staring at the ceiling which appeared to be rippling like the surface of a pond.

Her entire body felt heavy and a wave of fatigue washed over her. Hoping that this was it, Krystal allowed herself to succumb to the darkness.

~*~

She didn’t remember falling asleep, but when she woke up the sun’s position over the house indicated that it was early morning. It was then that she realized she had slept through the entire previous day.

She sat up, and her head started pounding.

“Fuck,” she groaned. “Why am I still alive? Surely that should’ve been enough…”

She picked up the empty Ambien bottle.

“Obviously wasn’t.”

A cloying, rotted smell reached her nose and a wave of nausea rolled up from the pit of her stomach. Instinctively, she leaned over the side of the bed and dry-heaved, despite having no food in her stomach.

Shakily, she stood up and went to the foot of the bed, crouching beside her mother’s body.

“Mom,” she sobbed, pushing her mother’s tangled blonde hair away from her face. “Why’d you do it?”

The body was pale, and had settled to room temperature. The eyes, still that murky grey colour, stared blankly.

Krystal sat with the body for a while, holding her mother’s limp hand in both of her own. Soon, she could no longer tolerate the smell of death lingering in the room, and decided it was time to do what was right for her mother.

She pulled the bedsheet from the bed and laid it on the floor. Gathering all of her strength, she rolled the body onto the sheet, wrapping it up.

Slipping and struggling as she went, she dragged the body down the hall to the back door, stopping to push it open by leaning her back against it. She half-carried, half-dragged the body down the back steps.

Halfway across the yard, she collapsed beside the body, gasping for air and her arms aching. A wave of nausea hit her and she dry-heaved again. Leaving the body where it was, she forced herself to stand and went to the shed. She retrieved the shovel and, moving to the base of the tree, she began to dig. All concept of time had faded. She was barely aware of her surroundings, only the sun beating down on her and the monotonous scraping of the shovel as she dug.

Deciding that the hole was deep enough, Krystal dragged the body into it, letting it drop as carefully as she could. She made sure it was face-up; she couldn’t bear the thought of her mother lying face-down in the ground. she began to fill the hole in, until a mound of earth was the only indication left that there was even a body buried there. Exhausted, Krystal dropped the shovel and fell to her knees. She lay beside the grave, allowing sleep to wash over her again.

When she once again awoke, it was late afternoon. She sat up, brushing grass and dirt from her clothes. Her palms were flecked with dirt and her skin was damp with sweat. Her whole body ached. Getting to her feet, she went back to the house. Entering the kitchen, she gathered a mop and bucket, and the last remaining bottle of liquid soap. She filled the bucket with hot water and half the bottle of soap, before taking it into her mother’s bedroom. She first mopped the spot where the body had been. Then, she mopped up the spot beside the bed where she had been ill. Dumping the contents of the bucket into the toilet, she then went around the house opening all the windows, hoping the smell of blood, death and vomit would dissipate. Finally, she went to take a shower.

~*~

Krystal awoke the following morning with a mission. She went out to the backyard and stood by the shed, looking it over. She spotted a loose plank of wood on the wall and began pulling at it. It creaked and cracked as she did so, and splintered a little. She persisted, despite the pain of the splinters cutting into the pads of her fingers. She didn’t even stop when she broke a fingernail, right at the quick, causing her finger to bleed. Finally, the plank came free from the wall. She took it into the shed and raided her father’s collection of tools until she found a handsaw, nails and a hammer. She got to work, sawing the plank in half. She then drove as many nails into it as she felt were necessary to fasten the two halves together into a large cross. She grabbed a screwdriver and crudely carved her mother’s name, birth date and date of death into the wood. Under her arm she carried it to the grave, and forced it into the ground as firmly as she could. Then she sat down beside the grave. Her mind was racing. In that moment, she decided that she was alive for a reason. She didn’t know exactly what it was, but she knew there had to be a reason. If she was going to survive, she would need a better weapon to protect herself. A butcher’s knife wasn’t going to cut it – no pun intended. she went back into the shed to see if she could find anything useful. She briefly considered the handsaw, but she would have to allow the zombies to get too close before she could use it. She rummaged through the rest of her father’s abandoned tools, but found nothing of use. It was then that something hanging on the wall caught her eye. A gardening sickle.

Perfect, she thought, as she retrieved it. Gripping the handle, she tried it out, swinging it like a golf club.

The handle’s a bit short.

She then spotted the retractable broom leaning against the workbench. Sitting on the floor, she unscrewed the brush head and inserted the sickle’s handle into the hollow broom handle. She then wrapped it in duct tape hoping that it would keep it secure. She got to her feet and held her new makeshift scythe aloft with pride.

[crystalclearwaters1]

Family Ties Chapter 1

Author’s Note: Family Ties was inspired by a dream I had, so it is cannon-divergent and doesn’t follow the storyline of the show completely. Unlike  the show Mack is still alive while Cassandra is not (Mack was in the dream, while Cassandra didn’t appear in the dream so I left her out).

Disclaimer: I own Krystal Miller, her friends and her mother Shelby, but I do not own Z Nation.

Family Ties

Chapter One

“Mom! We’re doing a supply run!” Krystal Miller yelled down the hallway. She was accompanied by her two housemates, her best friend Piper and Piper’s girlfriend Aubrey. They stood behind her, armed with their weapons and carrying their supply bags. The clicking sound of high heels on hardwood floor came across the floor from the living room. Krystal’s mother, Shelby, leaned casually against the wall, dressed in a hot-pink tank top and blue denim jean-shorts. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a messy bun, and obviously hadn’t been brushed in days. Krystal looked her mother up and down, taking in how gaunt and unhealthy she looked.

“Can you bring me back some grass?” She asked in her husky voice, handing Krystal an envelope that Krystal could only guess was filled with cash.

Krystal sighed in frustration.

“I thought you said you were quitting!”

“Don’t sass me!” Shelby snapped back. Krystal rolled her eyes while slinging her backpack, old and worn, over her left shoulder.

“Ugh, okay, jeez,” she grumbled. “I’ll do my best.”

“Good,” Shelby said. “And don’t steal any of that cash, or you’ll be answering to Diego. He hates it when people rip him off.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Krystal said, sarcastically.

Shelby turned on her heel and clicked her way into the kitchen, grabbing a beer out of the fridge on her way back to the living room.

“Be back before dark!” She yelled a last-minute order down the hallway.

Krystal and her companions left the house as quietly as possible, not wanting to alert any nearby zombies of their presence. They waited a moment, scrutinizing their surroundings, before deciding it was safe to proceed.

“Where to first?” Piper asked, running a hand through fiery red pixie-cut. 

“Let’s try hitting Cherry Avenue,” Aubrey replied. Krystal and Piper nodded in agreement, and they set off in that direction. The streets were devoid of life, with nothing but piles of garbage and a couple of skeletonised dead bodies lying around. This had become the norm since the outbreak had occurred three years ago. There was hardly anyone left now; among almost everyone else in town, Piper and Aubrey’s parents had succumbed to the virus. Piper and Aubrey had survived, and Krystal and her mother had taken them in.

They rounded the corner onto Cherry Avenue and started with the first house on the right. Krystal, her butcher knife in hand, led the way up the driveway and onto the front porch. The door was unlocked. Quietly, she nudged it open, and the three young adults slipped inside cautiously. They cleared each room methodically, and once they knew the coast was clear they got to work. Krystal started by checking the kitchen cabinets; they mostly contained spices and other things previous looters had deemed useless, but she managed to grab a packet of sugar and a jar of coffee beans.

“Is it worth checking upstairs?”

“Yeah,” Krystal said. “They might have medical supplies; bandages or something. Never know when we might need them.”

She led the way upstairs, and cleared the perimeter again. She entered the bathroom while the other two split off to check the master bedroom and what had been the child’s room.

She opened the medicine cabinet above the sink and found a small box of band-aids, some aspirin and a tube of moisturiser. She left the tube of lotion, but grabbed the band-aids and painkillers. Finding nothing else useful, they hurried downstairs and left, moving onto the next house.

Finding only a tin of baked beans in the kitchen, they moved onto the bedroom. Krystal threw out a hand and stopped her friends as they approached the closed door; she could hear movement coming from inside the room. She slowly turned the handle and eased the door open, and almost slammed it shut again when she laid eyes on what was inside.

“Oh, shit,” she whimpered. “Elmer and Doreen.”

A pudgy, elderly man wearing a red button-up shirt and blue jeans was standing at the foot of the queen bed. His skin was a mottled, greyish-green colour, and his eyes were clouded and blank. He was standing almost perfectly still, but swaying slightly. On the other side of the bed was an elderly woman, also quite chubby. She had the same mottled skin, and she was wearing a blue sundress with daisies on it.

Both of them had plastic bags fastened over their heads with duct tape.

“What do we do?”

“I guess we’ll have to put them down,” Krystal said. She swiftly threw the door open and they rushed in, keeping a safe distance from the zombies’ gnashing jaws. Piper swung her baseball bat, smashing it against the side of Doreen’s skull. She grunted and lurched toward them, and Piper swung again. This time, the entire left side of Doreen’s head was crushed inward. She staggered, slumping backward onto the bed. Piper hit her once more, and she stopped moving as thick, black blood and grey brain matter oozed across the bedcovers. Elmer came toward Krystal. She drove her knife into his head, directly between the eyes, and he dropped to the floor.

Krystal nudged him with her foot; there was no reaction. He was dead.

With the danger eliminated, the three friends searched the room for anything worth taking.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Piper said. She had pulled a shoebox down from the top shelf of the closet, and had removed the lid to reveal a 9mm Glock 19.

“Any ammo?”

“Here,” Aubrey said, pulling another box from under the bed. It contained twelve bullets, which she loaded into the gun before putting it into her bag. They fled the house and ran back out into the street.

“Should we call it a day and head back?” Aubrey asked.

“Yeah, but first we should probably go find Diego,” Krystal said, frustrated. “If I come home without Mom’s weed, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Where does he live?”

“Over on College Avenue,” Krystal said, shuffling to readjust the shoulder strap on her backpack.

“That’s not far,” Piper replied. “Let’s go, it won’t take long.”

With Krystal leading the way, they walked until they reached College Avenue. Krystal knew which house to look for, as her mother had taken her there several times over the past three years.

She wasn’t afraid; Diego could be violent when he wanted to, but he had always treated Krystal kindly. She turned up the driveway of the second house on the left. The front garden was a mess; all the plants were dead and shrivelled, the grass resembling a ratty brown carpet.

The first sign of trouble that Krystal noticed was the front door. It had collapsed inward, and was now hanging by one hinge. Inside, the house was dark.

“Diego?” she called. “Diego, it’s Krystal Miller. Are you home?”

There was no answer.

“Did he move out?” Aubrey asked. “Maybe he decided to leave.”

“Nah, Mom got weed from him two weeks ago,” Krystal said. “That’s how quickly she goes through the stuff.”

They quietly entered the house, Krystal wishing she’d brought a flashlight. They crept down the dark hallway to the bedroom. The door was ajar.

Krystal reached for the handle, when suddenly the door burst open with a loud crash.

 A huge Doberman lunged out, snarling and snapping its frothing jaws at them. It stood in front of them in a half-crouched stance, ready to attack. Its fur was matted with what looked like blood, and it had an open, oozing wound on its right shoulder.

“Shit!” Krystal yelled as the other two girls screamed. “Odin!”

The dog did not respond to his name. he lunged at them a second time and the girls turned to run. They crashed their way down the hall, knocking over furniture and climbing over piles of garbage. Odin was right behind them, barking and making a horrible snarling sound. Piper kicked him hard in the head, knocking him down. He didn’t stay down; moments later he was back on his feet, and angrier than before. Lunging again, he clamped his jaws around Piper’s wrist.  She screamed in agony, and Aubrey rummaged through her bag to retrieve the gun they had taken from Elmer’s house. Her hands shaking violently, she fired a single shot. Odin let out a mix of a snarl and a howl as the bullet tore through the side of his neck, but he still didn’t go down. Instead, he lunged at Aubrey, who fired a second shot into his chest. He fell again, and she put a third bullet directly into the top of his head.

Odin didn’t get up again.

“Are you okay?” Krystal asked Piper, rushing to her side.

“Fine,” Piper panted heavily, tearing the hem from her blouse and wrapping it around her injured wrist. “It’s pretty shallow.”

“Why w-wouldn’t he die?” Aubrey sobbed. “W-was he infected?”

“Looks like it,” Krystal said. Piper’s face whitened in fear.

“Can it cross species?” she asked. “Am I gonna die?”

“I don’t know,” Krystal admitted. “I’ve never seen anyone get bitten by an infected animal before. Maybe it can’t.”

“I hope not,” Piper said, her voice shaking. Before they could say or do anything else, the bathroom door opened. Diego, once a handsome young Hispanic man with sleek black hair and olive skin, came lurching out into the hall. His skin was pallid, his air unkempt, and his brown eyes were now a clouded grey. His white tank top was covered in old, brown bloodstains, and his throat had been torn out. He was snarling and making a sickening wheezing sound, and his mouth was spewing blood and foam. Aubrey screamed and dropped the gun as Diego’s teeth sank into her jugular, tearing out a chunk of flesh. Her shoulder-length blonde hair was soaked with blood, as was the sleeve of her pink blouse.

“NO!” Piper howled. She picked up the gun and fired, blowing the back portion of Diego’s head off. He collapsed to the floor, taking Aubrey down with him.  Piper rolled him off Aubrey, and the two girls knelt beside their fallen companion.

“Aubrey,” Piper sobbed. “Aubrey, I’m sorry. I wasn’t quick enough–”

“It’s…not y-your…fault,” Aubrey rasped. She coughed, choking as her blood filled her throat. Slowly, shaking violently as she did so, she reached out and picked up the gun. She put it in Piper’s hand.

“Do it…” she choked. “Please. Don’t…let me become one…of them…”

“I c-can’t,” Piper wept. “I c-can’t!”

“Please…”

Krystal was crying silently as she watched Piper break. She held the gun to Aubrey’s forehead.

“I…l-love you,” Aubrey choked out, coughing up more blood.

“I love you,” Piper echoed. She pulled the trigger just as Aubrey’s eyes became the same cloudy grey as Diego’s had been. She dropped the gun with a clatter and fell into Krystal’s arms.

“Come on,” Krystal said, trying to catch her breath as her own tears began to subside. “We need to get you home and treat that wound.”

She grabbed the gun from where it had fallen and put it into her backpack.

“We can’t j-just leave her here!” Piper wailed.

“We can’t move her,” Krystal tried to reason with her friend. “We won’t be able to carry her all the way.”

“S-so what do we do?”

“Leave that to me,” Krystal said. “Come on.”

Reluctantly, Piper stood up and walked away from her girlfriend’s body. Krystal went to the kitchen and found a box of matches. She opened the fridge, where Diego had a six pack of vodka.

She tore a shred of fabric from the hemline of her shirt, popped the bottle cap off and inserted the fabric into the neck of the bottle. She waited until they were outside before she struck the match lit the fabric on fire, and threw the Molotov cocktail into the house. She heard the glass shatter, and the crackle of flames igniting. They walked away as the house began to burn.

“Fuck, this hurts,” Piper said, clutching her hand as they walked. The bleeding had stopped, but the wound was red and inflamed and was already beginning to ooze a clear fluid. Krystal gave her a sympathetic look.

“We’ll be home soon,” she said. However, the further they walked, Krystal began to notice that Piper was beginning to look ill. Her face was pale, and she was sweating profusely despite the weather being quite mild.

“Piper,” Krystal said, stopping her and putting her hands on her friend’s shoulders. “Are you okay?”

“I…don’t know,” Piper admitted. “My head hurts…and I feel dizzy.”

“Okay,” Krystal said. “Let’s just take a break for a minute.”

They sat down on the curb, Piper with her head on her knees which were pulled up near her chest.

“Krys,” she murmured, her words beginning to slur slightly. “Something’s wrong. I can feel it.”

She coughed, and blood splattered out of her mouth.

“Oh, shit,” Krystal yelped. “Shit, Piper–” Piper’s face paled even further. She looked up at Krystal, but her eyes seemed to be staring through her. Before Krystal could do anything, Piper’s eyes rolled into the back of her head and she collapsed.

“No!” Krystal shrieked. “No, no, no, no, no! Piper! PIPER!”

She shook Piper by the shoulders, but the other girl didn’t rouse. The wound on her hand was now leaking a yellow, pus-like fluid.

Krystal reached out a hand to touch her, when Piper’s eyes snapped open. They were the same cloudy grey as Diego’s had been. Piper let out an inhuman snarl and sat up, snapping her jaws at Krystal. Krystal jumped away, pulling her knife from her back pocket. Piper struggled to her feet as well, her whole body twitching and jerking unnaturally.

Krystal backed away from her, keeping her at arm’s length with the knife in her hand. Piper lunged at her and collided with Krystal’s arm, knocking the knife from her fingers.

“Shit,” Krystal choked. She grabbed her backpack and fumbled around for the gun, pulling it out at the last second before Piper lunged at her again. She pulled the trigger, shooting her in the throat. Piper choked and gargled, but kept coming. Krystal fired again, this time hitting her between the eyes. Piper dropped to the ground, and Krystal turned and ran, not looking back.

~*~

Krystal practically threw herself at the front door, shoving it open. She stumbled into the house, blinded by her tears. She slid to the floor with her back against the door, her hands covering her face, and sobbed.

“Krystal?” her mother called from down the hallway. “Is that you? Did you get–”

“NO, I DIDN’T GET YOUR FUCKING WEED!” Krystal screamed before she could stop herself. The stomping of heels on hardwood floor came up the hall until her mother appeared.

“What did you just sa– Krystal, what happened? What’s wrong?”

“They’re dead,” Krystal sobbed. “Diego, Piper, Aubrey, they’re all fucking dead!”

“Oh, my God,” Shelby gasped, gathering her daughter into her arms. “Oh, my God, Krys…”

“Diego and Odin had both turned,” Krystal sobbed into her mother’s shoulder. “A-and Odin bit Piper. Mom, th-the virus, it can spread from animals, too. Diego attacked Aubrey, Piper had to p-put her down…and then on the way back, Piper turned and I…I had to…”

“Oh, Krys,” Shelby said, running her hand through Krystal’s dark hair. “This is my fault; I shouldn’t have asked you to go over there.”

Krystal wanted to ease her mother’s guilt, but she couldn’t argue with her. she had asked her to go to Diego’s house.

“Is there anything I can do?” Shelby asked. Krystal shook her head.

“I’ll give you some space,” Shelby said. “I love you, honey. I’m so sorry.” “Love you too, Mom,” Krystal said. She went into her room and shut the door, staying there for the rest of the night.