Last On Earth

Chapter 3: Memories (Valentine's POV)

Memories.

Valentine swung in the tire swing for what seemed like the 615th time. Her eyes were fixed on her ginger cat, Cat, as she let out a long, deep breath. She was only five years old, but already she had a habit of living in her head, in a world where everything was possible, and nothing was ever as it seemed.

She let out another long, deep, bored puff but her long face turned into a wide grin as she watched a familiar figure wave at her from across the yard.

She wore her work attire; a black shirt topped with a green apron, jeans and a necklace that Valentine had made draped around her neck. Her pink curly hair was pinned up in a bun.

"Mama!"

Valentine ran to her mother, her laughter ringing in the still air. Her mother crouched and opened her arms wide and Valentine jumped in them, feeling the warmth of her mother's arms around her, feeling the fabric of her apron against her skin.

"Valentine," her mother said, kissing the top of her head, her voice tired from working but soft and filled with love.

"Mama, mama, push me on the tire swing!" Before she could even respond, Valentine was already sitting in the tire swing. Her mother chuckled before walking over to her daughter and holding onto the rope.

"Hold on tight!"

Valentine's feet kicked out behind her, her breath coming in short gasps as she let out a laugh. The sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled patterns on the grass, as she swung higher and higher, her heart filling with a joy that she couldn't explain, that she couldn't name, but that she knew, in the depths of her soul, was real, and that she knew was more than anything that the world could ever deny or destroy.

Valentine took notice that she was swinging relatively high for her liking, "Mama, can you let me off now?" she asked, expecting to be let off.

"Mama?" When she noticed something was wrong, Valentine dug her feet into the ground, stopping the tire's motion. And when she revolved to face her mother.

THUD

Valentine watched in fear and confusion as her mother's hand gripped her chest and she fell to the ground with a sharp inhale.

"Mommy!?"

Valentine watched as her father rushed into the backyard in response to Valentine's cry, his eyes wide with panic as he saw her mother lying on the ground. He quickly checked her pulse, and then grabbed his phone, dialling 911 and speaking rapidly. His voice was filled with a sense of urgency and terror.

"Papa, what's wrong with Mommy? Who are you calling?"

Valentine stood there in worry, her heart pounding in her chest, wondering what was going on, as her father spoke to the operator, his voice rising as he begged for help begging them to come quickly, begging them to come as fast as they could because his wife needed help and she needed it now.

Valentine felt a sense of terror wash over her, as she heard the blaring sirens and watched as paramedics rushed to her mother's side, and her father as he spoke softly to her, trying to comfort her, trying to ease the pain when she was being put into the ambulance.

When Valentine was instructed to go back into the house by one of the paramedics she had a feeling.

That she would never see her mother again.

She wasn't wrong

Present time

Valentine sat staring at her phone, feeling the weight of the world bearing down on her. There were no messages, no replies. It was as if everyone she had ever known and loved had just vanished. She felt a deep sense of loneliness and isolation, as if she had been left behind in a world that had moved on without her.

"It's fine" She confirmed herself "It's just a zombie apocalypse. Except that, I don't have my dad...Or anyone..."

But she couldn't let herself be consumed by her emotions, not when she was fighting for her life. She ate some of the food she found in the store, feeling the energy return to her body. Then, after her spiked maul, she opened the door and stepped outside immediately ducking into the shadows.

After maybe an hour or two Valentine was exhausted, her clothes torn and stained with blood from fighting off two zombies, her mind consumed by the endless struggle for survival. She had been walking for a few hours, searching for any signs of other survivors, any bit of hope that she wasn't alone in this hellish world. But all she found was death, ruins, and the constant threat of starvation and dehydration.

As she stumbled down the street, her body trembling from exhaustion, she suddenly noticed an alleyway leading off to one side. It was dark and narrow, but it offered a chance to rest and recover. She cautiously approached the entrance, her senses on high alert for any signs of danger, but it seemed to be empty.

With a deep, ragged breath, she stumbled inside, her shoulders slumping with relief. Finally, a chance to rest, to recover, to gather her strength. She slumped against the wall, feeling the cold touch of the concrete against her back. 

Her eyes drifted shut, and she let out a long, slow breath, feeling her body finally relax. It felt like it had been centuries since she had slept, and she was too exhausted to fight anymore.
But just as she was drifting off, she suddenly felt a hard, painful blow to the back of her head. She felt her head snap forward, and she let out a cry of pain, her eyes snapping open in shock.

"What the-"

 She turned to see who she thought was a male that looked maybe about 17 with jet black hair that just passed 'his' shoulders standing over her, a heavy pipe in his hand, a scared, crazed look in his eyes.

The dude opened his mouth to scream, but Valentine was too fast for him. She had spent too long fighting for her life to let some stupid idiot take her down. With a furious cry, she grabbed her melee weapon and tackled him.

She knocked the pipe from his hands when she did, and breath quivering she brought her spiked maul above her head. He went limp beneath her, and she let out a long, slow breath, her heart racing.

"Tell me why I shouldn't kill you."