Prologue

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Day 15 A.Z

     A navy sedan putters down a road going from nowhere to nowhere, the driver a young girl, not old enough for her license yet. But nothing really matters anymore- zombies run the earth and over half of the population is dead. So she drives, blissfully unaware of the zombie pile up around the sharp corner that she takes all too fast, she doesn't even have the time to smash her boot on the brake pedal before her car flips, vaulting into the ditch. 

     The car lands on its roof and causes a huge crash to echo through the forest, windows shatter everywhere. The girl's head bashes against the steering wheel and she's instantly knocked out, the impact creates a cut on her forehead that dribbles blood. But that's not the worst of her injuries by a long shot, her shoulder is sticking out at an impossible angle- either severely dislocated or horrendously broken, and her right shin has a compound fracture, the bone grotesquely sticking from her skin. The sounds of zombies approach, their moanings and shufflings drawing dangerously near to the unconscious girl. 

     Then a series of gunshots ring out and two pairs of more lively footsteps reach the side of her car. An older man crouches down next to the shattered driver's side window, he sees the girl and stands up, addressing the other person with him.

     "Tommy, can you help me flip this car?" He asks.

     "Sure dad," Tommy responds, his voice is high and it's clear he's still going through puberty.

     The two males manage to flip the car back onto its wheels. This is an impressive feat; seeing as the boy, Tommy, is about the girl's age- and has barely any muscle on him, and the father is quite old with paper-white hair. But the two are much more than they seem. The father pries the door open and takes off the girl's seat belt, to this, she wakes up.

     At the sight of the man she pulls out her knife with her uninjured arm and directs it at him. She tries to push herself away from him but she kicks with her fractured leg and cries out in pain, dropping her knife from his face to clutch her mangled leg.

     "Please, we're just trying to help," the man begs her.

     The girl laughs bitterly, "do you know how many times in the last fifteen days I've heard that?! They never once meant it," she laughs bitterly again and grabs her knife from the floor.

     "I'm sorry to hear that, but my name is Bill and this is my son Tommy," he steps aside so that she can see the boy who is her age with dark, messy hair and sweet, light eyes. After looking between the two for a quick minute the girl slides her knife into her belt holster and cradles her shoulder. She looks back up at the two with harsh grey-blue eyes.

     "My name is Elizabeth," she pauses "Elizabeth Moen, people who know me call me anything from Elle to Ella from Liz to Lizzie or Ellie to Eliza, take your pick," she tries to shrug but only one shoulder moves and she takes a sharp intake of air from the pain the movement causes.

     "Well Liz, if you come out of the car my son and I can help get you fixed up," Bill offers.

     The girl nods and pushes herself out with one arm. Once she reaches the edge of the driver's seat she drops harshly onto her butt in the glass sprinkled grass. Bill crouches next to her and examines her shoulder first.

     After a few minutes of silent deduction, he speaks up; "I think you've got yourself a nasty dislocated shoulder there, we can pop that back in right now if you like, or we could get you back to our camp first," he offers.

     "Let's do it now," she says.

     "Alright, brace yourself," he warns as he grabs her limp arm and places his other hand on her shoulder, "on three. One, two, three," he counts down before jolting her shoulder back into place. Liz bites down so hard on her lip that she tastes blood, but when the initial surge of pain is over she tests her shoulder a little bit by rolling it. It sends pains through her body, but it moves.

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