The Dead Walking 4

(This is the 4th book in The Dead Walking series) I hate death. Its not even the fact someone died really its the after math when you look back and think "maybe I could have done something" and it just eats away at you until you cant take it anymore. And it seems no one really understands it, but you so you are left to face it alone. Just like you're left to face everything else alone now because we're all just monsters too.


1. Not Okay

          Me and Carl walk outside. I came out here to get away from everything, but being out here just reminds me more of her. Its hard to believe that just a few months ago we were out here, but now it just gives me bad memories. Katy told me she was bit out here and I was standing in this exact same spot as she told me. Removing her arm only gave her a few more months. Just a few more months to enjoy everything that she hadn't got to do yet. I wish I could have gave her everything before she died, but I couldn't. We couldn't have traveled far enough in a few months to show her every place that she didn't get to see. That's the worst part because I know that there are so many things that she would have loved to see and I couldn't do anything.

        Just a couple months was all it gave her. She died yesterday. Mark didn't say a word he just collapsed to the floor, curled up in a tight ball, and started crying. That's the first time I ever saw him cry. I guess I didn't really believe he cared quite that much about her, but I guess I was wrong. I didn't say a word either. I didn't move. I just stood there and stared blankly at Rick as he told me. I didn't move. While everyone else cried silently or stood there sadly I just stood there without any expression. I was numb. I wouldn't have moved if it wasn't for Carl actually picking me up and carrying me away.

       This is the first time I have moved by myself since yesterday afternoon. "It didn't work for her. A couple months. That's all it gave her," I whisper just loud enough for Carl to hear.

       "It was too late. She took too long to tell us. It had already spread too far" he looks at the ground.

       "But why? Why did it have to be her? She was just... so... pure. I doubt she had even killed a zombie before," I shake my head.

       "I don't know Izzy, but you said it before. Its usually the good people that die first."

       "It's bull shit! Complete bull shit!" I sound like a little kid, wining.

       "I know," he smiles a little.

       "Its just not fair! Why do I have to lose everyone? My parents, my brother, and now my best friend. Did I do something wrong? To make God hate me or something?" I ask yet I know no one can answer the question.

       "You still have me. I'm not going anywhere," Carl shakes his head.

       "For now!" I cry. "Its just a matter of time before I lose you too!"

       "Izzy, don't cry its okay," he insists. He wraps his arms around me and holds me close.

       "I just want everything to go back to normal. I'm tired of killing people and I'm tired of watching as everyone dies around me," I sob into his chest. My tears soak his shirt, but he doesn't seem to mind.

       "I know Izzy. I know. But we cant change this. I don't think things will ever be normal again," he sighs.

       "I didn't think Mark cared that much about her. He surprised me the way he reacted. I guess an apocalypse really does change people," I tell him.

       "It does," he agrees.

       "If you looked back now... you wouldn't recognize me. I've changed... so much and I don't think its a good change," I shake my head.

       "Izzy it doesn't matter who you were before. All that matters is who you are now. And I love you now because of the way that you act."

       "But this isn't really me. This is... a mask almost. I have to act like this to survive."

       "Its not a mask, its just a side of you that you didn't know you had," I look up at him and looks down at me. He smirks.

       "Are we going to have a funeral?" I ask.

       "Do you want to give her a funeral?"


       "Then there will be a funeral," he lets me go, but I give him a quick kiss before stepping away.

       "You talk to your dad about it and I'm... going to talk to Mark," I instruct.

       He nods and I spin around and jog inside. It doesn't take me long to find Mark. He is laying on a bed that's in the next isle over from mine ad Carl's. I hear quiet sobs and a reassuring voice. As I walk down the isle I see it's Beth who is comforting him. She Is sitting in a chair beside the bed and Mark is curled up in a tight ball. She looks up at me and I see her eyes are strained. This must be hard for her. To sit here and listen as a person cries there eyes out and no matter how hard you try you cant get them to stop crying. I don't think I would be any good at a job like this. I'm too impatient.

       "I need to... talk to him. Alone," I add.

       "Okay. Just... come and get me when you're done. I'm supposed to keep an eye on him," she rolls her eyes.

       I smile. "I will."

       She walks away and I am left alone with a sobbing Mark. After a second I hear a changing in breathing from him and he takes a deep breath. "What?" he asks.

      "How are you?"

      He chuckles. "Not okay," he shakes his head.

      "Yeah. I've been better," I nod.

      "I don't know what I will do without her. I mean I don't know if she told you but... we were together from the very beginning," he tells me.

     "She hadn't told me that. I didn't know you cared that much about her," I admit.

     "Me either," he smiles.

     "You look like crap," I tease.

     "You've looked better yourself," he teases. "So I know you didn't just come here to keep me company. What do you need to talk to me about?"

     "Well... Katy. We're going to be having a funeral for her. Either later today or sometime tomorrow. You are coming right?" I ask.

     "I don't think I can Izzy. I'm holding to just a little bit of sanity and I'm almost positive I will lose it if I go," he says honestly.

     "And you think I'm not? I don't have much left either, but we have to go. For her. We have to say goodbye one last time. No matter how hard it is us. We have to do it," I insist.

      He smiles just a little. "She told me you were a good person. She told me that you were the nicest person she had ever met. I didn't really believe her until now."

      I stare at him, blankly. "She said that?"

     "Yeah. Right before she died."

     I cover my face with my hands as tears flow out from behind my closed eyelids. I don't uncover my face until most of the tears have dried. "She's so dumb. I'm not a good person. I'm not nice. Please tell me those weren't her last words," I whimper.

     "No. Her last words were "I love you guys. See ya on the other side," he tells me.

     I don't have time to cover my face before the tears spill over again. "No you see how I feel," he mutters.

     "I have to go," I spin around and run away, as fast as my legs will allow me. I run all the way to far right corner of the store. The employ's only room. I shove the door open and close it behind me. I lean back against the wall and let the wall prop me up as I slide to the ground.

     I let myself cry. The tears flow down my cheeks in thick, rushing streams. I hate death. Its not even the fact that someone dies its the after math and you look back and think "maybe I could have done something" and it just eats away at you until you cant take it anymore. And it seems no one really understands it, but you so you are left to face it alone. Just like you are left to face everything else alone in this world because we're all just monsters too.

     There isn't anything I could have done for Katy. She waited too long to tell us and when I did all that I could she died anyways. But I look back now and I realize. That's the thought that haunts me everyday. "Maybe I would have done something." Maybe I could have done more. At that time I was so little and my mind didn't process what was going on and by the time that it did it was too late. But now. Now that I'm older, I know I could have done something. I could have killed enough zombies to get my brother down from the tree or I could have pulled my mom away from my dad. I could have saved one of them. But I wouldn't want one without the rest. Just like my mom wouldn't want to live without my dad and my brother wouldn't want to live without our parents. In some ways I'm glad they got to die together. But in some ways I'm not because now I'm left all alone to face this world without them.



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