🌟bILLIE eILISH smut 🌟

survival of the smartest (b.e.)

I half-arsed this sorry

Billie's POV

Day 4, 14:17 20/4/22

It's the 4th day of this apocalypse shit. Me and finn have been doing alright I guess. It's getting super warm in the day and that's not a good thing because we're starting to run out of water.

If we don't get clean water soon, we'll dehydrate and maybe have a stroke from the heat. My head has been pounding and I've been thinking about resorting to drinking my piss. Nasty, i know.

We're currently sleeping in a torn up gas store. There's a few canned vegetables for us to ration.

We haven't seen anybody or anything in hours. I hope the infected don't show up soon. I'm too weak to fight.

The Covid-19 vaccines went wrong and messed up peoples cells which turned them into zombies. I don't know how scientists can fuck up so badly. But they claimed it was the new strain of the virus that was making everything worse. We're currently on the 3rd strain for covid.

Finneas has been losing hope, and honestly so have I.

I feel like we're getting no where. The best option would to be to find—

"Hey, we need to get going, Bils. I can hear the screams of the infected coming. Pack up."

Finneas walked over to me with his backpack slowly dropping as he slid it down his shoulder.

"Put everything in this rucksack it'll carry everything."

I nod and quickly finished writing in my journal.

– a group of people who know what they're doing and for them to help us out. We need to join a gang so we can survive.

I slam my journal shut and wrap the elastic band around it.

I sit up on my knees and start packing our sleeping bags and pillows. This was normal for us to do now. Wherever we go, we have to pack up a few days or hours after.

These fucking brain eating bitches are everywhere.

"You almost done, Billie?! They're getting closer!"

Finneas shouts through to me as he came from the other side of the store.

"Yep! Just packing up the radio now. Get your gun and knife ready incase some have already arrived."

I instruct him. He gasped and quickly gets out his gun.

"I almost forgot."

"How the fuck do you forget to draw out your gun in the middle of an apocalypse??"

I ask in disbelief.

Shrugging, Finneas turned on his heals and knelt down to tie his shoe laces.

I shake my head in disappointment and continue stuffing the radio into the heavy, brown, large rucksack that was carrying our bed, food, water and survival tools.

"Alright, so. . . On this map, we are . . . Here! We are here, so I say we walk like a mile and a half maybe to over here."

I circle us on my map and then the building I was talking about. I was leaning my map against the wall.

"Agreed. That's if the building isn't destroyed."

Finneas replied.

I squint my eyes at the map.

"And, if zombies have already taken over? Or if we come across some crazy ass bitches that wanna eat us? What do we do then?"

I honestly have no clue how we're gonna improvise if the brain-eating things have already taken over that place.