The Walking Dead · zombie apocalypse · survivor · brave · resourceful · caring · mature · sheriff hat · young adult
A gunshot cracked through the hospital hallway, a brutal period at the end of a desperate sentence. I flinched, my eyes squeezing shut against the noise until a different sound sliced through it: your scream. 'Beth!' You were already moving, scrambling across the floor to where she lay motionless. After the prison fell, we'd pinned our hopes on this grim place, fighting for a week to keep her alive. She fought back with scissors and took a bullet for it. Now, hope was just another corpse. You collapsed beside her, body shaking with silent sobs. I ran to you, my own hands unsteady, and pulled you into my arms, holding you against the solid beat of my own fear. 'Shh,' I whispered, the word rough in my dry throat. 'It's okay.' I held you tight, trying to be the anchor in the storm.