Morgana slid down the hill, overturning rocks and soil as her feet dug into the dirt. She gripped the metal bat in her hands, constantly swivelling her body in search for zombies. This hadn't been a good idea. She should've asked Jaxx to grab the car instead. He was a much better fighter than her, anyway.

Katherin staggered after Morgana. She held a knife loosely between her fingers, her bad arm pressed against her chest underneath Jaxx's jacket.

Jaxx had surrendered, allowing Morgana and Katherin to risk their lives on one condition: that Katherin bind her arm to lessen the blood loss. They didn't have access to any bandages though, so they'd improvised. Katherin's shirt had been torn into strips; the material wrapped around the wound and crafted into a sling. Jaxx had then shed his jacket, helping Katherin wrap it around her shoulders.

Katherin knew that Jaxx blamed himself for the situation they were in. She wanted to reassure him, to tell him that it wasn't his fault, but she couldn't find the words. It had been her fault for losing her composure, for storming out of the apartment complex without listening to reason. She had risked Ivory's life. It had been her that argued with Jaxx, who snapped at everyone, even though they hadn't done anything wrong.

Katherin would find her voice, someday. She'd talk to a therapist once society rebuilt itself. If it rebuilt itself.

The fog had returned, shrouding the view of the road. Katherin could barely see Morgana, who stood an arm's length away.

Katherin shivered. This mightn't have been such a good idea, after all. She shouldn't have tried to play the hero.

Morgana felt her way down the road, trying to remember where she'd seen the car. It would be no use if they became lost. Jaxx and Gwynth would be left to fight the horde alone.

She and Katherin needed to succeed. Their friend's lives depended on it.

Katherin reached out to touch Morgana's arm.

Morgana flinched, her metal bat raised to attack. Her heart pounded within her chest, begging to be let out of its cage.

"You scared me," Morgana mumbled, her words muddling together as she tried to stay quiet.

They didn't know where the zombies were. There had been plenty milling around the car, near the apartment complex. Katherin and Morgana stood in the middle, surrounded by a sea of unknown.

"The car. It's this way," Katherin spoke simply.

Morgana nodded, biting down on her lip. She forced herself to walk at a normal pace, despite her urge to sprint towards the vehicle. If the zombies were nearby, they'd only be attracted to her panicked gait.

Morgana tripped.

The metal bat fell to the cement.

Katherin steadied Morgana before she fell, her good arm straining to take the weight.

"Fuck. Are you okay?" Katherin murmured, gently letting go of her friend.

Morgana shook her head.

There was a body at her feet. The man's eyes were still open, his mouth twisted open in surprise.

His legs were missing; torn from his torso.

There was a groan nearby. The zombies had heard the commotion.

"In the car. I'll drive," Katherin's voice was soft, urgent.

Morgana nodded. She ran towards the car, an old ute with a cage mounted on the back, sliding into the passenger seat and slamming the door shut.

The backseat window had been shattered. Morgana opened the glovebox, fumbling for some sort of tape, something to fix the gaping hole.

There was a roll of duct tape, but it had been used. A small sliver of tape remained, the length of Morgana's index finger. 

Morgana huffed. This wasn't how she'd die. The psychic said that she'd live until she was eighty, that she would get married and have three dogs.

There was a square of carpet at Morgana's feet. She ripped at the stapled edges, wincing as the staples pricked at her fingers.

Katherin slid behind the wheel. The seat was bloody, the man's pinky toe still resting in the footwell.

Katherin swallowed. The zombies had managed to claw their way into the car before. It wouldn't be too difficult for them to do it again.

Their plan mightn't have been so well designed, after all.

"I'm going to patch up the window," Morgana murmured.

Katherin nodded, waiting until Morgana climbed into the backseat. Then, she turned the car on.

The engine sputtered to life. Katherin flicked on the lights.

The lights cut through the fog, revealing the horde of zombies swarming the vehicle.

"I left the bat outside," Morgana's voice was soft, panicked.

Katherin froze.

"Do you have anything else on you?"

The zombies were coming closer, their milky eyes searching for their next meal.

"No. Fuck!" Morgana groaned, frustrated with herself.

Katherin pulled the knife from her pocket, throwing it into the front seat.

"I'll be back," she murmured.

Morgana's eyes widened.

"No! You'll die!"

Katherin was already gone.

Morgana taped up the window quickly, her fingers shaking as she smoothed down the tape.

The zombies swarmed the car. Their fingers traced the windows, their noses twitching as they inhaled.

Morgana sunk into the footwell, clutching Katherin's knife. She was going to die. The zombies would tear the car apart, piece by piece, until they crammed Morgana's flesh into their hungry mouths.

There wasn't any point in waiting for death. Morgana closed her eyes, her breath shallow as she twirled the knife between her fingers. Would it hurt if she ended her life? Yes. She'd bleed out in the backseat of a musty car, far from everyone she loved.

Was it worth it? Morgana thought so. She didn't want to live with the pain anymore. Ttod had abandoned her, the person who'd promised to marry her, to stay with her until she took her final breath. Rebeka had died. Katherin had been willing to sacrifice herself, just to retrieve a metal bat.

Morgana should have just stayed silent. She could have kicked the zombies, searched the glove box for a weapon.

The owner of the car must have had a weapon.

There was a thump outside Morgana's window.

Then, the zombies began to run in a frenzy.

Morgana sunk down further, her hands pressed to her ears. The sound was unmistakable. Katherin had killed a zombie, drawing the attention to herself. The zombies had heard. They were ready to feast.

Katherin was going to die.

Morgana couldn't do anything about it.

Except, she could.

Morgana climbed into the front seat. Her hands gripped the steering wheel, shuddering as her hands glided over dried blood.

Morgana switched the car into reverse. Then, her foot slammed down on the accelerator.

The car shuddered as it rolled over bodies, crunching bone underneath the rubber wheels. Morgana's hand shook at the sound. Her father had rolled over her mother's foot once. She'd waited weeks until he was deployed to go to the hospital. By then, her mother's foot had turned black with rot.

She'd kept her socks on for weeks, not wanting to draw attention to herself. It had only made things worse. Morgana's mother's foot had to be amputated.

Morgana had moved out the next day, at the pleas of her mother. They both knew what would happen once her father heard the news. His eyes would glaze over with rage.

Morgana hadn't spoken to either of her parents since.

She'd seen the missing posters of her mother, though.

There was rattling on the door.

Morgana looked to her side, her body shaking with panic.

Katherin had held onto the car, her good arm hanging onto the cage. The metal bat was pressed against her chest, held snug within the jacket.

Morgana didn't stop driving. She lent to her left, unlocking the passenger door.

The movement sent the steering wheel to the right.

Morgana turned back abruptly, only to watch them hurtling towards a tree.