Flesh And Blood

Entry for the Walking Dead contest.


1. You Promised

I wake up to the long droning of the emergency television broadcast. My vision is blurry, but I can

make out my twin sister, Bella, staring into the T.V. Rubbing the crust out of my eye, I scoot to the

edge of the bed and sit next to her. I yawn. "You know, Bells, the whole point of taking watch is so

that the other person can sleep." I rest my head against her shoulder. She is breathing heavily.

"What is it?" I ask, paying attention to the broadcast for the first time. There is a large crowd of

refugees, fleeing the camp that the government had set up. "This is in Washington, right?" Bells

asks. "I guess." I reply sleepily. For the first time, I notice not all of them are people. Some  of

them are the undead. "The broke into the camp?" I yell, and quickly sober up. Bells jumps, nearly

knocking her geek glasses off of her face, then

snorts; "No. Some guy with the virus got into the camp, apparently, then spread it to everyone

else." I ponder this for a moment. "How did the doctors not inspect him closely enough to see he

was clearly going to turn into a stinky, bloodthirsty undead zombie?" I really do crack myself up.

Then a thought comes to me; "Unless he was.." Bells cuts me off. "Exactly what I was thinking.

He's immune. People have said this guy, Robert Fughman, wasn't showing an symptoms or

anything, there was an outbreak, the tested him, and he had the virus." She shrugs it off, like this

huge break through is no big deal.

"Don't you realize what this means Bella? They could find a

cure. They could actually find a cure! Whatever this guys got running through his veins must be

awful good." I sigh, relief flooding me. She shakes her head; "No Reagan. They won't find a cure,

and even if they do, there are way to many undead around here to treat them all. And if they find

a vaccine, that doesn't solve the problem of a million undead zombie cannibals. They'll still kill us.

They don't think, they don't feel. There like wolves, they act on instinct. Whatever humanity the

had in them left, the moment the woke up. There will never be a cure. We just have to face it.

This new, terrible world we live in." I am taken aback by how little faith she has in our country. "I

can't even look at you right now." I mutter, crawling back under the blankets. I close my

eyes. I wish it be like before. When Bells and I got along, and we woke up every morning to hot

breakfast, then mom would give us a big hug before shooing us off to the bus stop. And daddy's

huge bear hugs, that always left me breathless. I even miss Bells' hot-headed sadistic jock of a

boyfriend Will. I would give anything, anything to go back.


Bells is shaking me awake, roughly. I groggily rub my eyes, silently thanking her for waking me

out of my nightmarish sleep. "Someones at the door!" She whispers, fear filling her voice. There is

a soft thumping on the front door. I jump out of bed, racing to the where our supplies lay. Bells is

right behind me. I hand her the knife attached to a broom stick, which she had created and

grabbed my dads samurai word that I had taken off of his dresser. And also one of moms kitchen

knives for good measure. The steady banging on the door has increased in volume, ,I turn to

Bella, the terror is evident in her eyes, I feel the exact same way. We had fought of minimal

Zombies so far, and each time was a brush with death. I really didn't feel like fighting anymore. I

was exhausted. I lead her out of the master bedroom, past the familiar doors of our house. The

long narrow hallway leads to a staircase. Which opens into a lobby, right near the front door. My

heart is thudding in my chest. I can hear its unnatural rhythm in my ears. Bella pushes my back,

and I realize I have stopped dead in my tracks at the top of the stairwell. I move forward again,

wielding my sword high in the air. I guess I am moving to slowly, because Bells shoves me aside and makes a beeline towards the front door. She slowly peers into the looking glass, then shrinks

away. "God. Ree, there's at least 10 of them out there!" She shuffles back to me. I take a look in

the hole and regret it. There is  a lot out there. They are all moaning and doing there creepy

zombie walk around the porch, and frankly, it scares the bejeebees out of me. I turn around to

face my sister. "What are we going to do. We have to get the hell out of here!" I whisper-

shout. "No worries ladies, I have a plan." A deep voice says from behind us. I turn to the back

slowly. Before me stands a tall man, with an entire belt of weapons, pants. And no shirt, showing

off a tanned chest and a... six-pack. I nearly swoon. Which seems impossible, given the

circumstances but totally teenager like. He looks about my age - 17 or 18. I snap out of it quickly,

and step towards him, raising my mothers kitchen knife to his throat, instantly, I feel a sharp

object right near my shoulder. We are in an awkward stand-off/embrace, and we stay that way for

a few minutes. Until my sisters clears her throat. I take a deep breath, and look the boy straight

into his eyes, his beautifully sea-blue eyes. "What are you doing in my house." I put on the best

"Fuck-with-me-and-I-will-shred-you-to-pieces" look I can muster. But he simply laughs, and pulls

the carving knife away from my side, gently pulling the knife I held away from his neck. I am

confused by his reaction, he leans over to my ear; "I like'em feisty" nipping my ear. I pull back, a

blush flooding my face. "Ok. Ew." I shake it off and return to my sisters side. The mysterious boy

swipes the shaggy brown hair from his face. He seems innocent, but one look at his belt tells me

otherwise. Then he speaks, out loud for the second time, but I notice the way his voice cracks,

and the way the words smoothly leave his lips. "Grab your stuff girls." I nods toward the upstairs

bedroom. I speak before my brain can process; "How did you get in here?" He just laughs, that

stupid, sexy laugh. Ugh. I hate hormones. "I am not going anywhere with you." I state stepping in

front of my sister, who has been oddly silent this entire encounter. "Suit yourself, but those flesh-

eaters out there will break down the door sooner or later." He turns toward our back door. I have

every intent of letting him go, then Bells speaks up. "We'll go with you." I shoot her a glare, isn't

she supposed to be the logical one? Walking out of our safe haven with this weird, dangerous,

hot, swoon-worthy, probably-axe-murderer guy? I think she's lost her mind. I sigh in defeat, I

seem to be sighing a lot these days. "Fine." I mutter. "What's that princess?" The guy says,

staring at me. What did he just call me? "I am not a Princess!" I shout walk up to him, pulling the

knife out and resting it lightly against his throat, an empty threat. "Sorry, what would you prefer,

Samurai Warrior?" He laughs eyeing the sword I have tucked into my belt loop. I push the knife

against his throat with more force. He puts his hands up in surrender. I tuck the knife back in my

pack. "Now, go grab your things, we have to get moving." He spits on our carpet, and I resist the


urge to pull the kitchen knife back out. "We don't have anything worth keeping." I glare at him,

slowly backing away. I can't believe we are trusting this moron with our lives, but Bells must have

some logic behind this, so I go along. "What's your plan, Superman?"  I smirk, pushing past him

to the kitchen. I hear his heavy footsteps, and the steps of my sister behind me. I reach the very

thick glass door to find the lock broken. "Are you an idiot, that gave any zombie access to a free

meal?" I spit, he looks at me dubiously, he's obviously not the brightest. I open the refrigerator,

and search for the water we had stocked in the lower section. It was all gone. "You took it!" I

accuse the boy, and he just shrugs. What is with him!? I groan in frustration. We simultaneously

turn around as the front door bursts open, 3 flesh-eaters stroll casually in, they seem to be taking

in there surroundings, astonished, as if they didn't expect the door to actually give. But then they

spot us. They move towards the three of us, with jerky movements, the moan and groan. They

are seeing their next meal. I shiver at the though. The boy steps forward, pulling a long spear out

of his belt. How on earth did he find that? But I really didn't have time to ponder over it. I hold my

samurai sword tightly in my hand. We wait anxiously, for the flesh-eaters to reach us, I notice

Bella step up next to me, broom stick in hand. I am the first to attack, with a vicious and high-

powered wing of my sword, I slash the middle one, right across the chest. But it doesn't do any

good. I remember what my father said before he was bitten, kill them by a shot to the head. So I

raise the sword high above me, and slice it into the flesh-eaters brain, he falls to floor, something

slimy oozes from him. I turn to face my sisters, who has lost her weapon and is in hand to hand

combat with the zombie, trying to avoid getting bit. With one swift motion, I slice the head off of

the guy, his body slumps to the ground, and his head rolls of into the darkness. The boy has

already killed his zombie, with a surprising slam to the eye. It is to grotesque to watch. I turn away

from the flesh-eaters convulsing body. "Sight for sore-eyes huh?" He smirks. I shake my head. In

no way do I enjoy staring at that-that thing. "Lets get moving." The boy says, nodding towards the

door. Just as he is about to open it, a flesh-eaters lunges at the door, shaking the glass, his

slobbery mouth sliding all over the door. Ew. Then I look back to the front door. Flesh-eater are

making there way onto our front lawn. Shoot. I look to the boy, for an idea, I suppose. Not that his

noodle brain could come up with one. But it does, and he shoves my sister towards the staircase,

and grab my twig arm, leading me up the stairs. "How is this going to save us! Its one-way only!" I

shout above the moans and the shuffles of feet echoing through our house. Then I realize where

he is taking us, the fire escape, our old fashion house has one of those stairwells attached to the

balcony, a fire escape. He'll lead us down and we'll run! He might not be so dumb after all. My

sister pulls the glass door open, and races outside. I look over the staircase and my heart sinks,

the flesh-eaters are surrounding it. There is no way down. Bells looks around then sprints into

action. She climbs over the edge of the fire escape, hanging only from her hands on the gutter,

she shimmies along the roof, then swings her legs onto the garage roof, that is attached to our

house. The boy follows, and I climb over the edge just as the first flesh-eater learns how to use

the stairs. My hands sweat, and I feel myself loosing my grip. It takes all of my will-power to make

it, and I do, but as soon as I try to sing my legs over, my grip slips, and I fall, A rough hand grabs

my wrist and pulls me to safety, I stumble into the boy my head lands on his chest, and we tumble

down the roof, dangerously close to the other side. He lands on top of me, and I can barely

breath. As soon as he realizes he is crushing me, he lifts his arms into push-up position, and rolls

to the opposite side, landing so our arms are touching. I find myself hoping he landed like that

purposely, but I know he didn't. Our breath Is matching, heavy breathing, in and out. Gradually

getting slower. We lay like that for some time, as all of the adrenaline leaves our bodies. My

muscles begin to ache. He moans pulling his arm to his chest. "You okay?" I ask, propping myself

up on my elbow. He nods; "Think I just pulled something, it'll be fine in the morning." I stand up,

gaining back my balance on the sloped roof. I step carefully over to where my sister has layed

down blankets and pillows. "Where on earth did you get those?" I laugh heartedly. She smiles at

the stars; "Dad and I used to stargaze out here, the blankets were still in our tuck-away." The

smile leaves her face. "The tuck-a-what?" I laugh, laying down next to her. "We kept a box under

the antenna." She replies, it makes no sense but I decide to leave the subject alone. "Does it

have any food in it by chance?" She laughs half-heartedly, then shakes her head. "Nah. We

brought snacks up, but they were always gone by morning. I can tell she needed time alone to

remember. And that was okay, the last 3 and a half weeks had been utter hell for us, relaxing

could be nice. I give her an awkward, side hug, "I love you Bella." I say into her shoulder. I stand

up and walk back over to The Boy, pulling my dark brown hair into a loose messy bun. He props

himself up on his shoulders, looking my over. I blush immediantly,thinking of what little clothing  I

am wearing. A tight, light brown spaghetti strap and short brown/tan pajama booty shorts. I never

thought when I bought these that I'd showcase them off to a boy. But something tells me my

clothes aren't what he's looking at. "Relax Princess. I wouldn't dream of looking at you like that."

He nods, snorting, somewhat like my sister. I roll my eyes, but feel humiliated on the inside. "So

what's your name?" I ask, sitting cross-legged in front of him. "Josh. And yours, Princess?" He

chuckles as the word leaves his lips, he seems to do that often. "Reagan." I reply simply, rubbing

my hands over my bare arms. He must be cold too, without any shirt at all. "You cold?" He asks. I

nod a tiny bit. Josh pulls his backpack out from under him and grabs a shirt, tossing it to me. I

throw it back instantly. "I'll suffice." I snap, shivering involuntarily. "I have more than 1 shirt,

Reagan." He tastes the name on his lips before tossing the shirt back at me, it was black and

smelled almost new. I eye him up and down. "Relax!" He rolls his eyes; "We're just two friends

sharing shirts, in a completely platonic way." He laugh that stupid, annoying laugh. But he was

right, so I put on the shirt, but I can't help but notice him staring at me. As soon as I catch him he

turns away. "So, Josh. "I say, mocking how he is laying, by propping myself on m elbow, and

staring at him. "So. Princess." He replies, never breaking the gaze. "How do I know if I can trust

you?" I asked him, fingering one of the shingles on the roof. It comes loose, so I let it slide until it

hits his bare chest. He laughs lightly. "I could ask you the same thing." He says, tossing the

shingle behind him ,it lands with a light thud somewhere else on the roof. "Touché." I laugh,

pulling the t-shirt loose from my already sweating body. "I don't like you." I add, closing my eyes

"Ouch." He says, and we both turn and lay on our backs, staring at the sky. "You are one strange

girl... Reagan." Joshua swipes his hair from his face, and looks at me again. "And you are one

stange guy."

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