The problem with a zombie apocalypse? Aside from the obvious?

It's just that the hits keep coming. You've barely managed to recover from one blow when something else comes up trying to knock you on your ass.

I woke up that morning to Shane kissing along my jaw. Not a bad way to wake up by any means.

"I let Kyle know about those guys," Shane said against my skin. "We're gonna move on here in a bit. Just waiting for you to wake up."

I felt him smile against my throat and opened my eyes to a grey, early morning light. Obviously they hadn't been waiting for me very long. I groaned, stretching, then laughed when Shane shifted to where he was on top of me, capturing my mouth in several light kisses before he stopped teasing and kissed me like he meant it.

I sighed happily and ran my hands up under his shirt, fingers trailing lightly over his stomach. I opened my eyes when he arched his back away from my touch and frowned up at him. He shrugged apologetically. "Your fingers are freezing."

I laughed and pressed my hands quickly against his ribs, making him scowl, then pulled away from him. I rubbed at my eyes, still feeling a little sleepy and Shane got off of me. I sat up and looked around. "Where is Kyle?"

"Close," Shane said, scratching at his jaw where his facial hair was making him itchy. I watched him, thinking that Shane had probably never been anything but clean shaven before the end of the world. 

He gave up on abating the itch with a scowl, and said, "He just wanted to run a perimeter one more time. I think he's taking a look at the road, making sure we don't run into anything."

The road in question I could actually just make out through the trees to the west.

"Speak of the devil," Shane said, climbing down out of the truck as Kyle suddenly appeared out of the brush.

"We're clear," Kyle said, nodding at me when I jumped down from the truck, my cold muscles complaining about the jarring movement. Looking at Shane, Kyle asked, "Do you want to keep heading west?"

"Is there a reason we shouldn't?" Shane asked, taking a small drink from one of the water bottles we'd found yesterday. He passed it to me and I took an equally tiny sip, waiting for Kyle to answer.

Kyle shrugged. "Not necessarily. It's just..."

He trailed off and I frowned. Generally, Kyle just speaks his mind when he thinks we should change direction, or when he doesn't agree with a plan.

With another shrug, he said, "There was a head wind coming from the west. Smelled bad."

Shane nodded. "Okay then."

"That doesn't really prove anything, though," Kyle said. "And west is probably better than east or north at this rate. South's not really the best either. I know you want to keep heading away from the coast."

Shane shook his head. "I'd rather not chance it. And we can always circle back west." He grimaced. "It's not like we have any set destination anyway."

That's one of like two things that drives Shane really crazy. Well, that and the lack of a proper shave every morning.

He's always had a destination, even if he didn't know that destination until twenty-four hours prior to departure. Not knowing where he's going makes him twitchy. He likes to have a point on a map that he can say we're heading to.

Kyle knew that better than anyone, and pulled a map out of his back pocket. Handing it to Shane, he pointed and said, "We won't get there 'til later tonight, maybe even after dark, but it's small enough that there probably won't be anything to worry about."

That's something we've found pretty consistently. The bigger a town is, the more trouble there is likely to be there. Small towns were either evacuated or wiped out pretty fast at the beginning, and the dead were more likely to wander away from them, rather than toward them.

Shane nodded, pleased to have a solid plan. We made sure we had everything, which wasn't a whole lot at that point, then got into the truck. After about twenty minutes, Kyle slumped down, resting his head on my shoulder and was out again in seconds.

Shane looked ruefully at his brother and said, "I swear he could sleep in the middle of a tornado."

"He also had the last watch," I pointed out and Shane nodded. We all had a unanimous decision that the last watch was the worst because it left you tired through the rest of the day, and we made sure that we all took it in turn.

The drive was relatively quiet and after awhile, I took over driving and laughed quietly when both Shane and Kyle ended up asleep.

I didn't really like being left to my own thoughts though, and ended up singing my favorite songs softly to myself, doing whatever I could to keep my brain busy.

Kyle had been right, and we only ended up getting into town as the sun was setting. Not really enough time to take a really good look around, but I don't think we could have made it much farther.

We were all still recovering from our bout with intense dehydration, and I'm not going to lie, it had kind of kicked our butts. Shane and Kyle were still dragging even after having slept through part of the day.

It probably didn't help that we hadn't had a whole lot to eat either.

Now, we manage better on limited rations, but at the time, our bodies were used to three squares a day and were rebelling at the tiny number of calories they were suddenly forced to run on.

The house was big. Almost ridiculously so, but all of the houses were. That's really the only problem with small towns. The size of the houses are always inversely proportioned to the size of the town. And it was the kind of town where each house is like a mile apart.

I hate big houses so much. You've only got two options when you're part of a small group: Stick together and spend forever clearing the place, or split up and clear it.

Neither of those options is awesome.

Shane rubbed at his eyes, and I realized just how tired he was. Of course, we all were exhausted, but you know it's bad when Shane starts to show it.

So we took the second option because it was faster. Shane went up to clear the smaller top floor, and Kyle and I split up to clear the almost cavernous ground floor. 

I mean, seriously. Who needs so much freaking space?

I had my knife and a flashlight, making sure to check every room and door I came across. Shane came down a set of stairs different from the ones he had used to go up, making me jump, then smile at him. I flashed the okay sign at him, and he nodded before signaling for me to finish up and follow him.

I checked one last bathroom, then walked down a short, dark hallway with Shane.

When we stepped into another living room, I squinted. The room was completely white with huge bay windows. Light from the setting sun streamed in, irritating our tired eyes and Shane rubbed at his left eye, knife held loose but ready in his right hand.

I blinked the spots out of my vision then froze when I realized the room wasn't entirely white after all. Splashed on the sofa and sprayed across the north wall, marring the cream paint, was a fan of scarlet.

It wasn't exactly fresh, but it wasn't the weird, nasty brown of old blood, nor was it the blackish sludge from a zombie either.

Shane noticed what I had and started looking around the room, trying to see over and around the furniture. We both jumped when a door closed and Kyle said, "The rest is clear."

Shane slashed a hand over his throat, trying to signal for Kyle to stop, but it was too late. Kyle paused in front of one of the windows, and my heart stopped when I heard the now familiar snarl.

I don't know why we didn't see it soon enough. Later, Kyle said it was because it had been wearing a sort of camouflage. The zombie had been wearing a completely white pant suit.

It was like watching something on a shutter. Just still images, one after the other.

The zombie sprinted across the room and charged into Kyle, whose knife was in his sheath. He didn't have the time to retrieve it before the zombie smashed into him and they went through the big center window with a horrific crash of breaking glass.

Shane yelled and we both ran over to just watch Kyle take a large, bloody piece of glass and shove it into the zombie's eye.

The zombie was still... not dead? Whatever. The point was, it was still moving and Kyle gritted his teeth, pushing the glass shard in further.

I cried out when I saw his bright, alive blood splash onto the zombie, the sharp edges of his makeshift weapon doing as much damage to Kyle as it did to the zombie. I hurdled through the broken window and ran over to Kyle, reaching him just as he stood up.

"Bit?" I asked first, sighing when he shook his head. He wiped his bloody hand on the shoulder of his shirt and winced when the fabric caught at the raw flesh. I paled at the dark red streak his hand left on his shoulder and took it gently, looking at the lacerations.

Shane joined us and swore softly. They were pretty deep. I couldn't see bone, but they were bleeding pretty fantastically. I looked up to find several nicks on his face as well and said, "Come on. Let's get you patched up."

"We can't stay here now," Kyle said, looking at his hand dispassionately.

There weren't actually any other houses immediately close by, and we were too low on gas at the moment to drive around and look for a different house. Not to mention it was now dark and we were stupid tired.

Oh, and he was bleeding.

I shook my head and said, "No. We can just Scooby-Doo the window and call it good."

Shane snorted. "We can what?"

"Scooby-Doo it." I smiled sheepishly. "You know. Like when Shaggy and Scooby are trying to keep the monster out and they pile all the furniture in front of the door?"

Shane laughed but nodded. He kicked the zombie's foot harder than necessary and said, "At least we know for sure the monster's not in with us."

"Not a man in a mask though," Kyle muttered, staring at the zombie, pressing his cut hand into his shoulder to try and stem the bleeding.

"Come on," I said again. "Shane can take care of the window. Let's get you taken care of."

Kyle finally nodded and Shane muttered something about how he wasn't a Great Dane as we went back inside.

Of course I couldn't find anything really good to wrap him up with, though we did find some antibacterial stuff and some over-the-counter painkillers. We also found band-aids, which I used for the small cuts on his face and neck. For his hand, I just went to the now old standby. Bed sheets.

I did what I could to clean the wounds and wrapped his hand carefully. Kyle didn't make a sound though I knew it hurt, and I could feel as he watched me while I worked. Finishing up, I said, "Okay. Anything else?"

I looked up at him, my first really good look, and wanted to gasp. He looked like he'd just run through the middle of a slasher film. His hand was mummy wrapped in white cloth covered in smudged red patches from where I'd gotten his blood on my hands before.

His shirt had several small tears and was smeared and splashed with blood. Then of course, there was all the cuts all over any bare skin. The long sleeves of his shirt had managed to more or less protect his arms, but the material was still torn and, like I'd said, really bloody.

Kyle shook his head, still watching me. There was a dull thump, then a grinding sound as Shane moved something in front of the broken window.

"You okay, Kyle?" I asked softly.

Slowly, he nodded, then he got up and went over to his pack. Grabbing a sweatshirt, he pulled it on over his still bloody shirt, not bothering to change it. The temperature was starting to drop and I saw him shiver a little. I was sure the blood loss wasn't helping him stay warm.

Barely whispering, he asked, "Do you think it's spread through the blood?"

I paused, paling as I considered that.

Kyle shifted from foot to foot and said, "There's no way its blood didn't get into me when I cut myself stabbing it. What if it's spread through the blood, Raleigh?"

I didn't know what to say. I didn't have a solid answer for him and Kyle hates maybes as much as I do. We both prefer solid facts and straight answers.

"Then we'll take care of it," Shane said from the door, making us both start. His face was pale and he was struggling to keep from looking angry or scared.

Kyle shivered again. "But—"

Shane shook his head violently, cutting him off, and Kyle threw up his hands, wincing at the movement.

"Fine!" Kyle snapped. "I'm sleeping upstairs. In a locked room. If I turn just break down the door and kill me, okay?"

He left then without giving either Shane or myself the chance to argue. I wiped my hands off as best I could without water, studying Shane's face, watching when he rubbed at his eyes again. His dark facial hair made his skin seem even paler, and he had dark circles under his eyes. I watched him scratch at his jaw, then as he rubbed at his eyes yet again.

Gently, I touched his shoulder and said, "You sleep. I'll take first watch." I pushed him lightly when he tried to argue. "Doctor's orders. Go. Sleep."

Shane tried to smile, but only really managed a sort of worried grimace. He kissed me, then went up the stairs after Kyle.

Sighing unhappily, chest tight with worry, I went into that living room to look at the wreckage. Looking around, I realized that the blood on the walls had been from whoever the zombie had been with when she turned.

Over piled furniture, I could just barely see where Shane had moved that body, placing it next to the zombie who had attacked Kyle. He had covered the bodies with a throw blanket, which I found oddly sweet and very sad.

I sat on a chair I dragged in from the dining room, mostly keeping an eye on the broken window. Every now and then, I'd get up and circle through the ground floor, peering out into the darkness, fighting with my own sleepy eyelids.

I kept listening for the telltale growls that would warn us if Kyle had turned, praying hard that I wouldn't ever hear that sound.

I kept watch through two shifts, letting Shane sleep. Finally, when I could barely keep my eyes open, I woke him for the last watch.

"Should have got me up earlier," he whispered as I fell into the bed he'd just vacated. The blankets were still warm from his body heat and I snuggled into them, sighing.

I shook my head, already half asleep. "Uh-uh. You were really tired. You only rub your eyes when you're really tired. And this way, you get extra and Kyle doesn't have to watch at all."

I barely got that out before a gigantic yawn interrupted my words.

Shane might have laughed and kissed my forehead.

I don't know. I was asleep.