• Gunshots wake me from a dreamless sleep, throwing me back into what has become my life. It has been four years since the disaster that caused the dead to rise from their graves. Sounds like a video game plot, right? As a former Gamer I should know. Zombie games were my specialty which is how I have survived on my own for so long in this crazy world. This is my world now, my own little H***. Well, it was until a week ago.
    I just lie in my bed, not wanting to get up though my new companions are not very good shots – well two of them are but the others aren’t. Seven of us, including me, are taking refuge in what was once my family’s house before they all became Zombies. I killed them not that long ago when they tried to bite me. It hurt but I did it. More gunshots ring out and I finally drag myself out of my old bed. They need my help so I have to get up. My room is pitch black but I easily navigate my way across its cluttered floor, grabbing the rifle that’s set against the door frame.
    In an emergency there is no time to change plus I know it’s only the two women that are on watch tonight so I don’t take time to change. They’d only waste ammo while I did so. Stupid cheerleader types. Calmly I make my way to the attic where our little watches take place in bare feet and a t-shirt that’s just long enough to cover everything. Yeah, I seem a bit, uh, careless I guess with that but typically I don’t need to get up in the middle of the night to fend off hordes of undead anymore. Plus I thought it is just me and the other two women there at the time.
    With a yawn I enter the attic and glare at the women. They are scared but they heard my jaw pop loudly like it always does and stand at attention. Both know they were wasting our ammo by shooting in fear at the Zombies but I say nothing. I don’t speak anymore, not after I had to kill so many people I loved and knew. “Sorry,” they say in unison. “Dante just thought we needed some target practice so he lured them into the yard for us to shoot at.” As if the mention of his name has summoned him the guy in question brushes past me and strolls into the room.
    “Well that was a bit better,” he says to the women. “Violet, you just need to stop panicking so much and Ivy, you need to slow down and aim.” Both women nod, eager to get his approval. Flirts. ‘Have some pride girls,’ I think but my mouth stays shut. I stalk over to them and shove them out of the way without a bit of gentleness. Shouldering my rifle I take aim at the heads of the Zombies – there are at least five of them – and fire. Not a single one of my bullets miss the heads of the Zombies and I prop my rifle on my shoulder with a smirk as the women glare at me. I am showing off. So what?
    For an instant I have forgotten how I am dressed and the fact that I have just rolled out of bed but as I turn to face them I become conscious of it. I can feel my face turn bright red under Dante’s surprised stare. He must not have noticed how I was dressed until then. Before he can say a single word I’m already down the steps and slamming the door to my room. My heart is racing but not just from my short sprint to my room. As I struggle to calm it, leaning with my back against my door, I hear the other three guys return from their supply gathering mission. Ivy’s squeal as her boyfriend catches her in his arms after she has flung herself at him strikes a chord in me. What I wouldn’t give to have someone to care for me like that in this H*** I have wound up in. Of course I know there is no hope of that happening; who could love someone as cold as me?
    Slowly I sink to the brown carpeted floor and draw my knees to my chest without a sound. I don’t let my tears fall though; I haven’t cried since I had to kill my parents after they became undead. Same goes for speaking. These people don’t even know my name though they have tried many times to get me to speak and tell them. A knock at my door pulls me from my thoughts. “Hey, Kurt, Jessie, and Ace are back,” Dante calls softly. “They brought food so come on out and get something to eat, please? I’m sorry for earlier, okay? It’s just that none of us have even seen you dressed like that and it surprised me.” That is true since I usually don’t come out of what serves as my room without dressing in my usual attire. He waits there for a moment, waiting to see if I’ll speak but when I don’t he leaves with a sigh. I want to speak to him, to tell him it’s okay but my voice fails me every time. I am not sure why I even want to speak to him but something makes me want to.
    Slowly I get up and quickly dress in my normal clothes; a graphic t-shirt, dark jeans, a thin black jacket, and a pair of customized Nikes. In front of my small mirror in my miniature bathroom I attempt to tame my long thick, dark brown – almost black – hair to no avail. I give up at last and leave my room, heading for the kitchen where I know the others will be. However, I don’t go very far down the hall from my bedroom before I run into someone and get knocked onto my butt. I look up at whoever I ran into, ready to glare, but instead I can only stare up at Dante’s kind smiling face. “Clumsy,” he teases as I scramble to my feet. “I was just coming back to get you. Evidentially some Zombies followed Kurt and the others back and, since you’re the best shot, I thought I’d ask if you’ll help me take care of them.”
    I shrug in reply which typically means “sure, why not” and follow him up to the attic after grabbing my rifle from my room. We stand, shoulder to shoulder at the window and take aim at the approaching Zombies, waiting for them to come within range. Dante shoots first, a perfect headshot with his shotgun. The Zombie’s head explodes and I move on to the next one. ‘One down,’ I think then freeze as I spot one of the undead. It is a child, no more than a year old with a very familiar head of hair. “Oh no,” I whisper aloud, the first words I have said in four years, “not him.” Slowly I take aim at the mangled little body’s head and pull the trigger, taking no satisfaction in the hit or the death.
    With that done I sink to my knees, dropping my rifle, and begin to cry for the first time in four year. My companion quickly dispatches the remaining Zombies then kneels beside me. “What’s wrong,” he asks. “What happened?”
    “I knew that little kid I just killed,” I whimper and his eyes get wide. He doesn’t seem to realize yet that I am speaking for the first time. All he does is wrap my in a hug and holds me until I calm down. I take a bit to stop crying but when I finally do he loosens his grip on me so I can look up at him.
    “I’m so sorry but it had to be done,” Dante says softly. “It wasn’t him, just a Zombie. He isn’t in that body anymore.” Slowly I nod but I don’t speak and he hasn’t realized yet that I did, well, I don’t think he has. “So what is your name since you seem to have found your voice at last?” Oh well, so much for him not noticing.
    “My name is Skylar,” I say slowly, unused to the sound of my own voice. It sounds rough from not being used and it makes my throat hurt to speak. “I used to be a Gamer before all of this started.”
    “Same here,” he says kindly. “If you don’t mind me asking why haven’t you spoken until now?”
    “I’ve already had to kill most of my family before you and the others came,” I reply. “Don’t even expect me to talk much to them by the way. I’ve been living in my own little H*** until you guys came.” That stuns him into silence long enough for me to realize he’s still holding me. I don’t mind it at all; I’m just not used to it. I c**k my head slightly and frown, wondering why he’s still holding me. He lets go when he sees my frown.