The journey home was long and terrifying. I expected a zombie to attack with every boarded-up shop and abandoned house that I passed.

It was obvious by now that Kenzie wasn't waking up. It had been well over five seconds, obviously, by the time that I finally reached home, exhausted from dragging my friend the entirety of the distance. I was so done, with all of it.

I unlocked my front door and slipped inside, pocketing my key once again. I kept it on me at all times and made sure I knew exactly where on my person it was. I wouldn't have felt even remotely safe otherwise.

I lay Kenzie down on my bed after struggling to drag her up the stairs, wincing whenever she awkwardly hit a step with her foot or elbow. My once beautiful bedt friend now looked sick and hollow. Her skin was slowly tightening, highlighting her bones, and sharp edges jutted out where once her curves and muscles had shown. When I opened her eyelid, her eyes were milky and sightless.

I began to cry. Cradling her head in my lap, I sobbed over what might as well have been her dead body. I had lost so much. Now I had to lose my best friend, too?

When I was finally done with my pity party, I snapped into action.

First, I bandaged the bite on Kenzie's arm. I wrapped it in white gauze after carefully sponging it clean of blood and - to my disgust - dried saliva.

I dressed her in my most beautiful dress, the prettiest . A pang shot through me, but I told myself firmly that a pretty piece of clothing wouldn't be helpful in the zombie apocalypse.

The dress had a sparkling golden bodice, with a flowing white skirt. It came up to Kenzie's knees in the front and dropped to her ankles in the back. The back of the bodice swooped down to reveal her slowly tightening, wrinkling skin. I had worn it to my middle school's graduation dance, and Kenzie had expressed her love for it more than once.

I wiped all of the makeup off of Kenzie's face. She deserved to be naturally beautiful as she...slept. Not that she could, exactly, in her present zombified state.

Lastly, I brushed and braided her hair, using my hair spray and strongest hair tie to ensure that her hair would remain impeccable.

She looked peaceful, if unnaturally old and deathly ill, as she lay there. It finally hit me that a dead, or as good as dead, girl was lying on my bed. My stomach churned and I forced the thought from my mind.

I texted my family.

Kenzie is bedridden. Bit

Reggie responded within seconds.

Nooooo!!! :-( :-( :-(

I waited, but my parents didn't text back, which was odd for them. They had become super overprotective over the past few days and were constantly glued to their phones.

Do u know where mom + dad r

NO

im kinda worried

plz come get me im scared now

I sighed. I shouldn't have said anything. Now I freaked him out for nothing. Kissing Kenzie's forehead, I whispered, "I have to leave. I have to go get Reggie. I promise, I'll be back. I love you, weirdo." It was what we would end each conversation with. Would this be our last?

Im coming reg

I covered Kenzie's face with a cloth before leaving and remembered to lock the door behind me.

As an afterthought, I ducked back into the house and grabbed my mother's largest cooking knife.

*

I was immensely glad that Dad had secretly taught me to drive when the apocalypse began six months ago. I was only fourteen, but looked old enough and tall enough to pass as sixteen at the least. As long as I didn't break any laws or look suspicious, police officers drove right past me without a second glance.

I had never actually driven before without my parents in the car, though. Now, however, there was a serious need.

Worry snaked in the pit of my stomach during the trip to the community center. Why weren't my parents responding? Were they okay?
Calm down, I told myself. They're probably just taking a break from all this zombie apocalypse drama. Stepping away and playing pool or something stupid like that.

Well, I didn't get to take a break. I didn't get to step away. My best friend had just died and Mom and Dad were scaring me. No, terrifying me.

When I arrived at the community center, I could tell immediately that something was wrong.

I entered through what was being called the school entrance, which shouldn't even have been unlocked. In some classrooms, I heard the whimpers and hushed conversations of children, but a few adults as well, hiding from...something.

Don't walk forward, Lilith.

I walked forward.

As I got closer to the entrance of the main arena, I began to see scatterings of children, no more than six or seven, lying, sickly and wrinkled, on the floor in uncomfortable positions. The other wings must have closed off in time. But the kindergarten/first grade pod faced the road...

I fought down the bile rising in my throat at the thought of the terror that must have just struck.

And then I saw him.

Reggie.

*

I don't know how long I stayed, sobbing, curled up over Reggie's body. He had never gotten the chance to be a normal kid. He had been killed at six years old by a mentally ill maniac, essentially.

I hated them. I hated this. I hated my life, and I wanted back the one I had had before the zombie apocalypse.

Before my world collapsed.

Something thumped against the door leading deeper into the community center.

We need to leave.

I scooped up Reggie's unconscious body and ran for the door. "Get to the car, get to the car, get to the car," I muttered desperately.

Something flashed out of the corner of my eye. I whirled and saw Daisy, poor Daisy, terrified and shivering. I almost broke down again in relief. My poor dog was probably so confused.

I finally reached the car, Daisy close behind me. I strapped Reggie in, making sure his head was supported with some balled-up clothing I found in the back. We weren't the neatest people. All the time, I was desperately glancing around me, terrified that we would be seen by whatever zombies remained in the area.

Finally, Reggie was strapped in. I patted the seat to make Daisy jump into the car, which she did willingly - she loved car rides. Slamming the back seat car door, I hopped in the front seat, shut my door as well, and tore down the road without even buckling myself in.

Once on the highway, I slowed down, realizing what I was doing.

I was leaving the only home I had ever known behind. I was abandoning my parents, who, for all I knew, were still alive. I was leaving Kenzie in my house, dead for all intents and purposes.

But I couldn't go back now. It was too dangerous. Zombies had broken into both my school and the community center. My parents would want us to be safe.

I glanced over my shoulder at Reggie in the backseat. He looked like he was sleeping, but already, his young face was wrinkling and his skin was tight. Daisy whined and licked his hand hopefully. Nothing.

A few other cars occasionally passed us, but not enough to make the traffic typical for a highway. Once, I glanced into a minivan to see a boy who couldn't be more than twelve if that, clutching the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white. I looked in the back and saw a little girl, maybe three, staring desolately out of the car window. She met my gaze solemnly and said something to the boy. The car swerved slightly and he glanced over at me. I smiled and waved. He grinned tentatively, but drove faster. I didn't blame the poor kid. I wondered what he had been through.

After a while, I needed to go to the bathroom. Daisy did, too, from her whining and scratching at the car door.

I pulled the car over and squatted in some bushes, terrified that a zombie was behind me or going to hijack the car. After relieving myself and getting Daisy back in the car (if she wasn't so obedient, she would have run away by now), I started thinking: where the heck was I planning on going?

Well, it was nice to be unprepared for a change. It was nice to not have to think, to just cruise down the highway and not even really have to pay attention to traffic. It was even kind of nice...to break the law.

I felt bad for thinking this way, but the guilt quickly vanished. What had the government done for me so far? Just hid the precious president and promised cures that never came.

Reggie was beginning to creep me out. He'd never been a quiet child, but now he was dead silent.

Dead.

Stop it!
As I drove, the reality of our situation slowly began to sink in. My best friend and little brother were Bedridden. My parents were undoubtedly zombies. I had nowhere to go, be, do. I didn't know which of my relatives were still alive or how to get to them. I didn't know what I was supposed to do next.

I banged the steering wheel and screamed in frustration, the honk masking my cry somewhat. I was fourteen years old. I was not supposed to be caring for a corpse (basically) in the middle of the zombie apocalypse, the end of the world. It wasn't fair!

I turned on the radio with a jab of my finger. Luckily, some things still worked. I assumed that keeping some electrical grids running gave some survivors purpose and the rest of us distractions.

I surfed the stations until I found a song that I liked. Then I cranked up the volume until it hurt my ears and let myself dissolve into the music. The bass vibrated through my core, and I sighed with relief. I had almost broken down and started crying. Almost.

The driver can't cry. I just had to keep driving.