Sunshine

1.

Isn't it weird? How one moment, no matter how big or small changes the way we think. The way we act, the way we move. For me, it wasn't the dead coming back and eating us. It wasn't the fact that the end of the world was among us. It was watching the one person I trusted most in life, die.

I sat beside her, her eyes were closed effortlessly. I positioned her head in my lap, her hair a beautiful shade of red. Her skin that was so full of color was now flushed, her pulse was no longer beating. The sounds of growling intertwining with the trees telling me it was time to leave. But, not without her.

I took my knife from my holster attached to my jeans. I felt the weight, it made my arm sink down. I couldn't bring myself to do it. She didn't ask for this, but in the end, I guess no one really does. A tear formed in my eye, my vision becoming more blurry, the growls growing louder, I looked up to see about 4 of the dead ones walking towards us. I shook my head.

You need to move.

I shook the thought away. She couldn't become one of those things. The growls only reminding me that I was too about to die. I couldn't take it, I stood from my spot, taking my axe from beside me and screaming as I swung at the first walker. Yanking it out of the cracked skull, I side stepped avoiding the next one, swinging at his head.

Thud.

The next one lunged itself at me, but I kept my balance and pressed it against the tree. I felt the hands of the last one behind me, thinking that this was the end, I closed my eyes. At least, at least I'd die with her. That's until the walker behind me fell limp with a crack to the skull and before I could get a glimpse at whoever saved me, I took the axe and finished the dead one against the tree.

I took in a deep breath, and turned around. Not even acknowledging the person who just saved me. I went straight back to the ground and placed her small head back on my lap.

"A thanks would be nice." His southern drawl hit my ears, but I chose to ignore him. If I did maybe he'd go away.

I was wrong.

"Not even a little one?"

I was silent. Picking up my knife and slowly looking over my shoulder at the man. His features were strong, with a little bit of a beer gut. His head was shaved as if he was a military man, and he wore a ripped up black tank with a leather vest over the thing. The only thing interesting that stood out was the missing hand, which looked fairly new.

"Oh, I see what's going on. That girl on the ground, she your sister?" His voice was to at ease to be talking about her like that, "I swear to god if you say one more thing I'll end you!" I snapped but it didn't see intimidated. He simply let out a small chuckle.

I turned my head and looked back at her pale face. Yes, she was my sister. My younger sister, her name was Amanda. She was the only good thing in my life. I was 23, she was 12. We were exactly 11 years apart, our birthday was on the same day. How my mom did that is beyond me. I would always joke that we were actually supposed to be twins but I was in a hurry to get out. She always called me impatient after that.

"I could do it, if ya don't think ya can." The redneck looking guy said.

I took in a deep breath, I knew I wasn't going to be able to bring myself to do it. She would eventually turn and I would feel about 10 times worse than how I already felt. I stood from the ground, looked at the man and handed him my knife.

We didn't exchange words, just glances. He seemed unreadable and I knew I was sadness written all over my face. I stepped away, clinging onto a nearby tree, listening to the rustle of the wind instead of the crunch of the skull. But it was inevitable. I cringed at the sound of the knife entering her skull, and felt my stomach turn into knots. I pressed the back of my head on the tree and slowly went down into a seated position.