CHAPTER ONE // day of the fall.
THE STREETS RAN RED WITH BLOOD.

If the old world ever returns or if we build a better one some day, there are a couple of things you should consider when picking a college. (Which I expect you to do, Ximena. Education is important!!)

A, pick a college that's close to home. I know home is a messy thing right now, but being near family is important. That's why I chose a school only 20 minutes away from you guys while I was still in college. I was unwilling to sacrifice the Sunday dinners and Thursday game nights that took up so much room in my heart. It was a bonus for me that it happened to have one of the best ROTC programs in the nation.

B, pick a college that has a good escape route in case the dead start walking.

I remember the first time a cannibalistic horror story plagued our local news. I had to listen to mom's tirade about the psychoactive drug crisis in America for over an hour. The second time it flashed on my screen, I said my prayers and asked you guys to lock your doors at night so I could have better peace of mind. Within days, the lines were down and the news channels were no longer covering what had turned into a national calamity. You know the story. You lived through it too.

By the time I got home, you guys were gone.

I don't have much to write about this day. None of it felt real while it was happening and it still doesn't. Which I think is kind of odd. Like... obviously I'm used to the death and the blood and the walkers now. I'm more used to that than the way life used to be. But something about that first day still feels like another world or a nightmare or something.

Really all I remember is finding our house empty and thinking I was going to die. When you guys weren't there, I genuinely thought I was going to die.

Oh, and I remember Carmen's stupid fucking Walkman playing AC/DC.

     Eva stood, body utterly numb, as she watched the world collapse from the window of her campus apartment.

     Her university had only put out the evacuation order an hour ago, but pandemonium had already taken the school by storm. Car alarms were blaring and people were screaming bloodcurdling screams; hundreds of students and faculty zipping frantically about on the sidewalks below. Backpacks and papers had been abandoned on the ground— nothing like that seeming to matter anymore.

     The girl stumbled away from the window, glancing around her humble home; the only thing in the world right now that felt untouched by the chaos and decay. She checked her watch for what had to be the millionth time, chewing on her bottom lip so hard she tasted blood.

     Two of her roommates had left days ago when the national upheaval had begun to feel less and less like something that would soon blow over and become a thing of the past. Last night, Eva had declared to her third and final roommate that they should head out first thing in the morning; that she needed to go to her family. That roommate had gone earlier to raid nearby stores for essentials before they left. That was hours ago.

     To say she was eager for her return would be the understatement of a century. Her bags were packed and waiting by the door, her nails bitten down to their beds and the floors marked by the endless pacing she'd been doing in her clunky combat boots.

     She wanted to wait— with everything in her, she wanted to wait. But her family was out there, and so were the infected. Her roommate was late, and a dreadful feeling in the pit of her belly told Eva she wasn't returning anytime soon. So with an aching heart, she scribbled I love you and I'm sorry across the notepad sitting on their kitchen island; screwing her eyes shut and sending up a prayer that the message would somehow end up in the unharmed hands of her best friend.

Slinging her backpack over her shoulders and fastening her grip to her suitcase's handle, she began her great escape; only faltering at the sound of nails clacking on the wooden floor behind her. Guiltily, she turned back around, hand still hovering over the silver doorknob. It was Bud— her roommate's golden retriever.

     His head was tilted innocently to the side, tongue hanging haphazardly out of his mouth with a big, open, golden retriever grin. His round eyes met hers, sparkling and full of unadulterated delight; blissfully unaware of the horrors unfolding outside.

     Eva sighed, her shoulders sagging as she let out a groan at his precious, blameless appearance. Having another, non-human life to worry about in the midst of this turmoil undoubtedly complicated things. She didn't know how long this was going to last or how bad it was going to get. A dog was positively the last thing she needed right now. But he didn't stand a chance on his own, and as much as she wished she had the guts to, she couldn't bare to abandon him in this apartment.

     Scrunching her nose a moment longer in thought, she rushed for his leash tossed over the back of their fur-covered couch; the animal trotting merrily behind her and wagging his tail.

     "Okay, come on. Come on boy, let's go." she breathed out in a rush, hands fumbling to clip it to his collar. She wrapped the leash around her wrist a few times, grabbed her things once more, took a deep breath, and headed out the door; Bud close behind.

     Her campus was absolute mayhem.

The second she stepped outside, a man was running into her like a freight train; knocking her off of her feet. She watched from where she sat with scraped palms on the concrete as the stranger scrambled to his car, no concern for having shoved her over on his way out; driving heedlessly over the curb as he sped off. Eva started to curse, but realized she couldn't blame him. Maybe he had a family to get to too.

Quickly, she was back on the run; lugging her bags and Bud along with her as she made a break across the black-paved parking lot. More screams rang out around her, and her keys trembled in her hand as she rushed towards her car. She only slowed when she caught a glimpse of a woman in the streets, her same age, shrieking as one of the infected tackled her to the pavement. Eva's swift footsteps came to a harsh halt, Bud bumping into her claves before stopping too; still care-freely whipping his fluffy blonde tail side to side.

Shock mingled with terror, an unruly mix that made Eva's stomach curl in on itself when the sick man dug his green hands into her abdomen. Her screams were endless as her blood poured out on the concrete, the person gnawing on her innards as he mercilessly ripped through her flesh. Soon the shock disappeared and the terror amplified, uniting with massive dread.

With a sharp breath, she continued to her car; suppressing the vomit creeping up her throat. As much as she wanted to, there was nothing she could do to help; the news had informed them the infected were indestructible before they had abruptly stopped airing and all the tvs had been shut off. If she tried to help the stranger now— who was surely toast with her guts sprawled on the pavement— she would only get herself killed, and then who would look after her family?

"Come on, Bud. Come on." she frenetically urged the dog, swinging open the passenger door and feverishly patting the seat; the sweet animal instantly obeying as he leapt inside the vehicle. Carelessly, she shoved her bags into the back seats, ready to race to the other side of the car when she suddenly found herself face to face with one of the infected.

The woman— or it, Eva never knew exactly what to call them— staggered towards her, dragging its feet unsteadily along as it moaned and groaned; her blackened tongue squirming hungrily between her teeth. The girl could hardly breathe as she stared into its piercing eyes, covered in a cloudy blue film; heart racing at the way it was staring right back at her. It was a new one, she could tell. Its clothes were still neat and clean against its pale skin, her hair in a long, tight french braid. It— she, whatever— was almost still beautiful.

     "Shit. Shit." Eva wheezed, her voice barely audible as her words exited in uneven breaths; unable to tear her eyes from the sickly woman as her furiously shaking hands reached for the mask hanging around her neck. They still didn't understand how the infection spread, and Eva wasn't taking any chances.

She pulled the cloth material over her nose and mouth and frantically squeezed into the car's compact back seat; the infected woman blocking the driver's door. Small whimpers of fear were exiting her lips as she yanked the door shut behind her, swiftly jamming her finger against the lock as the sick one slammed its palms against the window. She jolted backwards against her giant suitcase, eyes bulging in bewilderment as the ghastly woman smeared her mouth against the glass; trying to reach her. Struggling to catch her breath, Eva clambered over the console and plopped herself behind the wheel.

Messy flyways framed her sweaty face as she shoved the key in the ignition and twisted urgently; the vehicle rumbling to life beneath her. Her foot hit the gas so hard her tires squealed beneath her long before her car ever moved, gravel and smoke spewing out from beneath their rubber before it took off; the girl flying back against her seat from the velocity of her very own driving. The sick woman tumbled to the pavement as she zoomed away, Bud lifting his fuzzy chin and giving a proud bark; as if in approval of her choice.

With a full tank and a desperate mission ahead of her, she sped off; fleeing from the campus and heading towards her family. She swerved in the packed, violent streets to avoid the mangled monsters tracking down every person with a pulse; heart still hammering so hard against her ribcage she felt nauseous.

     It nearly stopped beating when she pulled into her neighborhood.

     The determination that had been written courageously across her features for the entirety of the drive was chased instantly away by downright panic.

     Her community was demolished.

     "No." she muttered, slowing to the speed limit for the first time during her reign behind the wheel; wide eyes traveling around the scene in disbelief.

     Houses were on fire and sidewalks were filled with belongings and weapons scattered aimlessly about. Vehicles were crashed and abandoned in the streets as if the drivers had up and left them there; windows shattered and smoke billowing out from under their hoods. Crumpled bodies lined the roads, bodies of people she knew— beloved neighbors and family friends who she had grown up with. Jagged holes from dozens of bullets littered their corpses, the victims resting in pools of their own blood with their eyes frozen open in death.

Perhaps the most frightening part of it all was the utter stillness. There was not one sign of life. Whatever had happened here was over— this was the aftermath.

     Her humble, loving, safe, proletarian home had become a graveyard.

     She was too late.

     "No." her voice wavered, all confidence caught in the ball cumulating in her throat; nothing but the sound of fear leaving her lips as she grew gradually louder. "No, no!"

She flung herself from the car while it was still moving, smashing her foot distractedly on the emergency break as the wheels rolled to a stop at the bottom of her short driveway. The crackle of distant fire and her uncontrollable hyperventilating were the only noises filling the eerie silence, the girl unraveling at the seams. She stormed up the cracked, stone pathway leading to her front door, which much to her dismay, was already wide open. The lights were off, the rooms were still.

     "Mamá?!" her rugged voice was filled with dread as she hared inside, tears welling in her eyes for the first time since this had all started. "Mamá, Papá?!"

     The house was quiet and empty, much different than it normally was. It was usually a place of constant motion, where people were far too noisy and TV shows were blaring much too loudly on the television. The aroma of causa limeña, hand cooked by her father, was typically permeating through the love-laden air. Often times the neighbors' children were flooding in and out as they played make belief with one another; high-pitched giggles and the endearing pitter patter of tiny feet against the floor filling the space. It had never felt cold until this very moment.

Eva turned circles around herself as she called out for them, head swiveling in every direction.

     "Carmen?!" The living room was vacant, so was the kitchen. She raced for the carpeted stairs, not bothering to quiet her thundering footsteps as she darted up them; pulling herself forward with the wooden railing like her life depended on it. "Carmen?!" her voice was growing louder and more desperate with each new cry.

     She checked her parent's bedroom first. "Papá?! Mamá?!" Nothing. She checked Carmen's bedroom next, the 15 year old girl having claimed the room all to herself when the twins had moved to France six months ago. "Carmen?!" Nothing.

     She scoured each and every inch of the condemned house— not skipping closets, or hallways, or behind shower curtains or under blankets; she looked anywhere and everywhere possible. Her heart could hardly handle walking into the bedroom she shared with her youngest sister each time she visited home. Toys were bestrewn all over the floor, a half drank juice box on its side and spilt on the already stained carpet.

     It looked like she had just been here.

     Her footsteps faltered, the girl holding her breath as her twitching hands flew to her head in distress; lip quivering as she screwed her eyes shut in pain. Her fingers scooped up a handful of her dark locks, giving a harsh tug as tears raced down her cheeks; face turning blue. Her hands released the death grip on her roots, only to hit herself repeatedly in the head; each time more violent than the last as she stomped her foot in fury against the floor. A raw, cacophonous scream tore from the depths of her throat. "FUCK!"

     The stentorian scream could've woken the sleeping giants as her soul split in two, the girl only then taking in a rugged gulp of air; crashing to her knees as desolate sobs racked her body. "XIMENA!" she wailed stridently, reduced to a pathetic heap on the floor; vision razed by warm tears.

     Still sobbing and screaming like all hope had been lost, a pang of fury rushed through her veins and pulled her back to her feet; the girl unashamedly throwing a temper tantrum. Viciously, she upturned tables and kicked meaningless holes through the drywall with the heel of her boot; shattering anything breakable she could get her hands on and tearing her home apart. The most vulgar of words spewed hatefully from her lips, mingling with the desperate calls for her lost family members; a piece of her chipping further away each time she yelled for them and gained no response.

     "FUCKING SHIT!" she roared, snot and tears streaming down her face as she gasped violently for air; parading through the pink-walled room and seizing each item from the shelves. She chucked every figurine, every piece of jewelry, and every memento into the wall; watching it fragment into pieces the same way her heart was.

Never had she known an agony such as this one.

She reached for the picture frame she knew sat on the top of Ximena's dresser, the wood forever stained by rings from the bottom of her sippy cups when she was younger. But her fingers grasped at air. Her head whipped over to the empty spot. Puzzled, she studied the absence of the photo; she was certain it had been there. Instantly her meltdown dimmed, the girl's bloodshot eyes darting over to the small bookshelf to her left; still hiccuping as she blinked all the blurriness away. Trembling, and on weak legs, she ambled over to the furniture. Her heart skipped a beat— the Bible was gone too.

     She zipped through the rest of the house, calming down more and more each time she discovered something else missing. Everyone's bibles were gone; family photos that had been hanging proudly on the walls or propped on countertops were gone too. Ximena's sparkly blue backpack that she wouldn't be caught dead without was gone too. Her dad's tried and true family recipe book— his pride and joy, Eva's too— was missing from its place in the top kitchen cabinet. She knelt to the floor, still sniffling as she picked up Carmen's Sony Walkman; oversized headphones still attached. The teenager was addicted to it. Her recent obsession was all things 80's, though her whole family knew in a month or two 70's or 90's would be 'in' to the ever-changing girl.

     She chuckled, her throat raw and hoarse; her body exhausted as she gingerly turned the object over in her hands like it was made of glass. Carmen must've dropped it on the way out— that is certainly what had happened. Certainly, every single one of them was okay, and out there— not far from here— braving the bloody world and looking for her too.

With a newfound hope and a heart full of fire, Eva slipped Carmen's clunky headphones over her ears and pressed play on wherever the Walkman had been paused last. Determination enveloped her tear-splotched features as she strode confidently out the front door, AC/DC blasting through the headphones. Flames were still chewing up the houses around her as the rock, comforting to her, coursed through her veins; the girl sliding back into the driver's seat of her old red car.

Eva De La Cruz had gotten her groove back. And now she was going to find her family, or die trying.

cam speaks! 

first chapter!! yeehaw!!

i know not a ton really happened in this
chapter, but i wanted to set the tone for eva's
storyline. the next chapter will do the same for
scarlett, and then we'll jump into the actual
content of the show : )

the plan right now is to have eva narrate
the beginning section of each chapter and then
head into regular 3rd person writing like i did in
this one. thoughts? yay or nay?

also, 2 quick things i forgot to mention during
the intro! a, the recommended reading style for
this story is black background with ga font (but literally do what you want it's really not that deep
pookie <3) and b, this story contains twd spoilers.
big ones. sad ones. 😝

thanks for reading!! mwah!!

xoxo,
cam

word count 3,244