One

In the book of Revelations, the bible tells a story of complete and total destruction. Some call it the 'Rapture' and some call it the 'Apocalypse'. But, the general consensus is catastrophic, global elimination resulting in those who are saved going to Heaven and, those who are not, being left behind to suffer the plagues and abominations set forth on the non believers. 

Well, I'm not so sure what the hell you want to call what happened here, but most would probably say it's extremely similar to our own human version of that. Except no one is safe. Not really. A few, like me, got lucky. The rest of humanity turned into very, very distant ghosts of who they once were. And now, the cities lay in ruin.

It's been a year since the first person woke up feeling just a little strange. A fever, sore throat, shaky muscles. The beginning symptoms of a normal flu, a normal cold. A year since they thought nothing of it and went on with their day, only to get progressively worse. One night turned into three and then all that echoed through the city were screams. And the screaming never really stopped.

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Blake sifted through a pile of crumpled trash and newspaper with his foot. They were old and faded but he could still see the headline etched in a bold font: 

Violent Flu Outbreak Could Mean the End of Days

They weren't wrong.  It only took a year for the entire western half of the world to completely collapse. 

Maybe even the entire world, who knows? Not fucking me.

He found his arrow next the mutilated being that was once a human and picked it up along with the one out of its head and wiped them clean before putting them back in the quiver.

Considering the sky had become a prime reminder of dystopia, the sun didn't shine very bright. His hearing had become his most keen sense and he paused when he caught the faint noise of something downstairs.

Paige didn't hear anything when she stepped out of the Range Rover, but that didn't mean it would last. The sun would set soon and they'd be everywhere. She shoved the front door closed behind her and listened closely to the inside of the house. She could hear something, and it sounded like shuffling. But no moaning or groaning accompanied it. But it wasn't like it could be a human...

She pulled the gun out of the waistline of her jeans and sighed, heading for the stairs. She'd have to take care of whatever it was if she wanted to search this house in peace.

It had been more than a year of this... She had crossed the days off of her calendar for the longest time. But when that year mark hit, she just didn't care anymore.

Everything was gone now. Time was one of them.

We live, we die. Same fucking difference now.

It wasn't something she'd ever gotten used to. Killing these things. These things that used to be humans.

She always had to remind herself that it was something she had to do.

Blake paused and the stairs made little to no noise as whatever it was came up them. The only drawback to a crossbow is that it's far less efficient than a gun. But ammo was few and far between and his track record with it was near perfect. He didn't see the need to stop being resourceful and patient.

It was what he was taught to do in this kind of situation by the one person who he had left in this wasteland, his uncle Frank.

Frank lived in a bunker across town and had one and a half legs and a moonshine problem so I didn't see him much. Sad to think that a paranoid drunk had more accurate predictions for the world than most people.

He set his arrow at the small opening in the door. And in this world, nothing surprised him, but when a short, blonde, human girl opened the door from across the hallway, it did.

No fucking way.

How the fuck do I respond to this one, Frank?

The door to the room in front of Paige opened and she glanced around, her eyes adjusting to the darkness in seconds. She was used to that by now. But the room was empty. Nothing but dust and the echoes of lives that were once lived in the walls. A little girl's bed sat in the corner and toys were strewn all over the grimy rug on the floor. Like whatever happened to her interrupted her play time. 

Interrupted her mother from telling her to clean them up.

Guilt settled in her chest and she slammed the door shut, not really thinking about it. If there were any things around, they definitely heard that. But in that moment she felt so fucking empty, she didn't care.

She turned around, not even bothering to case the room. She wasn't interested in whatever was in there. 

But across the hall, She caught a flash of something in the crack of the door. She raised her gun, taking a deep breath, and waited. 

Blake kept his breathing steady and quiet. He saw the metal of her gun raise to the door and shifted away from it a few paces because he knew she'd shoot first and ask later.

First person he'd seen in months and it was Paige of all fucking people. It was a lot easier believing she was dead. She was always good with a gun though. It would be just like Paige to use a weapon that was practically a non renewable resource.

"It's not very fucking smart to be slamming doors."

Her gun instantly dropped to her side. 

No fucking... No way. I'd know that voice anywhere.

Blake? He was dead. He had to be, because if he wasn't, she'd fucking know that by now.

Not that she'd gone to his house, or even anywhere near it. Because she didn't want to fucking know.

"You're alive? 

Why aren't you fucking dead?"

Nice one there, Paige.

"Because I'm smart and don't slam doors to bring attention to myself. Why aren't you fucking dead?"

It was a good question if that's how she had left a room for over a year.

She looked the same. The same as anyone could remain in all of this. No one stayed the same, not even the survivors. People used to think it was a tragedy when their loved ones turned. That the 'zombies' were the unfortunate ones because they died.

The real tragedy laid within the dwindling survivors. At least the zombies got to waste away and then die. But people who make it just waste away.

"Because I know how to shoot a gun and my dad basically built a fortress?"

Not that it saved him in the end. He fucking died just like every one else. 

Except Paige and Hannah.

And now Blake... 

She still hadn't seen his face. She wasn't sure that she wanted to. The last thing she ever fucking expected was to see him again, and she had made peace with that.

But here he was. 

Of fucking course you would be. I'll never escape you. You'll return to fuck up my life even when we both inevitably die, I'm sure. You'll probably follow me straight to hell.

Part of her wanted to turn for the stairs and call it a night. Forget casing the house and just go back to her own, pretend this never happened.

But instead,

"Are you going to fucking... Come out here or something?"

Blake wrapped his fingers around the door handle, not taking his time with opening the door.

"I'm out here or something. What are you doing here anyway?"

He couldn't understand how in a year of being trapped in the same town together that they just now figured out that the other one was alive. The living weren't too prominent . 

It was like a flash back to the past for her the moment she saw him. Everything was just like it was. Besides his eyes. They looked a little more dead. But how could they not?

"I came to look for supplies because my sister was sleeping and I was bored."

If that doesn't make me sound psychotic, I'm not sure what will.

"Why are you?"

"Getting my arrows back from a few days ago.

There's nothing here, supply wise. Unless you're looking for some empty cans of tetanus or a broken skateboard."

Paige sighed. He'd clearly been in this house long before she had.

"Alright, well, I'd love to stand here while you stare at my face some more, but I should probably leave."

She should also probably say something else. 'I'm sorry', 'I'm glad you're alive', 'I wish I could take back what happened', 'I wish you were different'.

But who was she kidding? She might have wanted to say those things when he was 'dead'. But now that she was aware of his breathing existence, irritation seeped back into her bones the longer she stood there.

And all she could think about, despite this stupid apocalypse they were in the midst of, was the past. 

Because that's what he does to me.

Or maybe that's what I do to myself.

"Yeah I'm sure you think that I am."

Don't act like you know what I'm doing or thinking. You couldn't be more wrong. You don't even know me anymore. And I don't know you.

We're strangers.

"Well, anyway, I should go too. I got what I needed here..."

And what I didn't.

His voice echoed in her head, and she knew that the moment she actually did leave all she was going to think about was the fact that she was going to replay this fucking scene in her head until this world drowned it out again.

And it took way too fucking long last time.

She could never get completely rid of him. Even when she thought she actually did.

She made for the stairs, but turned around a few steps down, looking up at him.

"Blake..."

No. I don't even know what I'm going to say.There's nothing to say here. There wasn't before, there isn't now.There never will be.

Blake caught something in her tone and it was something that he didn't know how to respond to. Any kind of reaction to emotion had slowly made its escape from him.

"...Yeah?"

I have no idea what you're going to say or if you're even going to say anything. Knowing you, you'll tell me to forget it and then walk away to let me wonder what the fuck it was that you wanted to say. I always had to siphon it out of you.

Why should now be any different?

Paige warred with the words in her mind. Her mouth went before her brain could stop it, nine hundred percent of the fucking time.

This time seemed to be included.

"I kind of missed you."

No. No I did not. I wanted him to be dead so I didn't ever have to deal with this again. Seeing him, and feeling guilty and wanting to fucking strangle him. He hadn't pissed me off yet, but with our past I'd give him another fifteen minutes.

"Fuck. I just. Never mind."

She didn't look at his face, She didn't wait for a response. She just turned and rushed down the stairs towards the darkness, forgetting to have her gun ready at all.

Blake was actually glad she turned away because he didn't know what to say back.

I missed you too?

I can't give you that satisfaction. Did you miss me when you were fucking my best friend at the time? Don't think so.

She stormed down the stairs so eager to run away from him, and he followed her. But it wasn't like he was chasing her. 

I've done enough of that for three lifetimes.

She slammed the front door open, but it was mostly accidental. The only instinct she had at the moment was to get as far away from him as possible so she could start forgetting that he was alive.

She was only two steps away from the door when she finally heard the moaning. And at that moment, it was too late. She ran straight into the thing, her gun falling out of her hand.

And she knew it would hurt if it ever happened to her, one of those things sinking its teeth into her skin, but not the way that it actually did. The scream that left her lips could shatter windows, if there were any left in the surrounding buildings to shatter. She ripped her arm away and pushed with all the strength she had to get it the fuck away from her, cradling her arm to her chest.

A year of this, and I'm this fucking stupid? 

You distracted me. You got into my head like you always do and this time, I'm going to fucking die because of it.

Paige's scream echoed through Blake's ears from outside and he didn't think, just jumped to the floor from about five stairs up. He dropped his crossbow and pulled the gun from his jeans, sprinting outside. He shot the zombie twice in its mushed skull and looked around There were no others but that didn't mean that there wouldn't be. It was hard to miss a noise like that.

Fuck. What the fuck do I do? I've never had to be this up close with it.

Think, Blake for fuck's sake, think.

First thing's first we need to get the fuck out of here.

He didn't even think about whether she would care or not, picking her up anyway. Her blood seeped into his shirt as he sat her inside of his jeep.

"I'll be right back."

He said the words quietly, scrambling back inside to get his crossbow and her gun. He climbed through the window on the driver's side and the engine turned over, the noise echoing in the dismal sky.

A cloud of dust remained in the air as he drove.

But he didn't know where the fuck he was even going.

"Why didn't you just leave me behind? You know I'm going to die for real this time, you should have just left me there."

Her voice cracked and it was written all over her face that she hated it. 

Why didn't I just leave you there? That's a good question.

"Would you have left me there?"

Thing is I don't know if I want to hear your answer. It's not like anything in the past matters.

"No... I'm not even fucking sure I could shoot you if I had ran into you as one of them."

She'd fucking thought about it. Had nightmares about it. Just figured that it would be her luck that when she did, he'd be a walking fucking corpse... Not breathing and flying down a city street next to her after she'd just been fucking bitten by a goddamn zombie. 

She pulled her shirt over her head and wrapped it around her arm as much as she could by herself. It bled through the fabric in seconds.

She looked over at him, but didn't know what she was supposed to say.

I don't know why he wouldn't leave me there. He hates me, and instead he...

"I just... Hannah. What the fuck am I supposed to do, Blake?"

Paige's wound was deep and the coppery smell of her blood was strong against his senses.

"Do you have supplies at home? We need to fix your arm and we'll figure out the rest later."

She leaned her head back against his seat and tried to breathe slower, nodding.

"I do. I have all kinds of stuff. I raided a grocery store pharmacy a few weeks after it happened."

"Alright well we'll go there. I mean unless you don't want Hannah to know...but she should."

He drove toward her place anyway. 

She had all the supplies and the comfort, well, the security of her own home. Which was something. He pulled up in the driveway and helped her out, leading her inside. He locked the door behind them when they were, pushing her bookcase she had always kept in front of the door back before saying anything.

How the fuck does this even happen? Sure as hell isn't fate cause that bullshit is supposed to be happy.

"Sit down. I'll get the supplies where are they?"  

Paige's head spun with the dizziness of blood loss and she fell onto her couch. She was trying not to bleed on it, which seemed fucking ridiculous because why would it matter? It used to be pristine as fuck, but she had stopped caring about that shit a long time ago.

"In my bedroom. I installed some shelves on the wall by the door... You still remember where it is, right?"

How the fuck could he not? Two years doesn't vanish after a break up. No matter how much they hated each other.

"Yeah, I do."

She closed her eyes as he disappeared, trying to not to let the panic that was eating at her chest get to her. She was still fucking crying, and still mad at herself for it.

He came back a few minutes later with a bunch of first aid materials. He took her blood soaked shirt off of her arm, not knowing the first thing about treating this. 

"We have to clean it. So brace yourself for a lot of stinging. It's like payback for all those stinging scratches you gave me."

He tried to lighten things up, make it the least bit better in an inevitably bad situation. He tried to avoid thinking about the endgame. 

But he already knew. 

He couldn't fucking kill her.

He held her arm in his hand gently as he cleaned it and she cussed under her breath and not so under her breath.

She had lost a lot of blood and it continued to ooze as he wrapped the gauze and bandages around it.

"Try and stay awake alright. You want something? It's the only time I'm gonna let you boss me around.

I don't want you sleeping because believe it or not I'd rather not have you slip into some kind of comatose state."

Why do I even care so fucking much when I had convinced myself I didn't?

"How can I not stay awake? I'm dizzy but I'm also fucking terrified that the moment I close my eyes, I'm going to become a fucking monster."

She tried to make her thoughts settle down, wiping the back of her hand under her eyes after he was done bandaging her arm.

"I... Thank you."

"You're welcome."

For a split second, She thought about kissing him. Which was absurd because she had just got bitten by a zombie and she was sure that was the last thing that anyone would want. But there was a look in his eyes and she didn't know how it got there, but she knew it wasn't an hour ago.

But all I ever did was hurt him. And he fucking hurt me. And now I'm going to fucking die and someone is gonna have to kill me, and it's probably gonna have to be him.

"You should probably just fucking put a gun to my forehead Blake, that's where this is headed, isn't it?

Why wait for me to turn?"

He caught her gaze and there was something behind it. Something raw. He chalked it up to the fact that she was...actually going to die.

And I have to watch it happen. I have to be the one to kill you. I doubt I could ever kill you even if you turned and ate a person right in front of me.

I can't hurt you. Not like that.

"For the same reason you would wait, Paige."

She wouldn't wait though. She wouldn't do it at all. She'd just wait for him to turn and find a way to keep him somewhere she never had to deal with it.

Out of all the situations in the fucking world. This would be theirs. They had a tumultuous middle and a horrific ending with fighting from the very beginning and now this.

Only they would get stuck with this choice.

Her blood was still on his hands and all over the fucking place and she knew that she shouldn't do what she was about to do, but.

She leaned over, putting her hand on his face, touching her lips to his. They still felt like they used to, and he still tasted like he used to. Her chest almost ached with the memory of it.

I tried so hard to forget it, but I never could. Wasn't that always my problem though? He was a drug I could never quit, a stain I could never get off.

 I just didn't think when I finally did, it would be like this.

He kind of expected her to kiss him. He kinda wanted her to. Cause he wanted to.

It's because you're dying. I swear that's why because otherwise it never would've gotten past you admitting that you missed me.

He kissed her back, her lips somewhat salty from the tears that ran over them. He wanted to cup her face with his hand but he decided to keep the smearing of the blood to her arm and his palms.

Slowly, he kissed her with intention. Like it meant something. When he pulled away, his lips tingled, asking him to do it again. His entire soul wanted to crash into her. Like it wanted to put on blinders to the pain and take off the armor that never really seemed to work anyways.