I wake up in the cabin, bright yellow light from the sunrise streams through the dust-filled windows. I tilt my head, the blood from the Sprinter that killed Phoebe has soaked into the black wooden floorboards. The events of yesterday come flooding back to me.

We were both so sure of our plan, I go get fruit because I already got the wood, she set up the fire, and she cooks the deer me and her killed together. It was so simple, yet everything went horrifically wrong. Setting up a fire is even dangerous now. Tears brimmed my eyes as I choke back a cry, it wasn't supposed to be like this. Nothing was supposed to be like this.

She never told me where we were headed, and for good reason, we were in Washington before, and we have to get to Georgia. Georgia is on the opposite side of the country, but it's not as if it's just across from Georgia, it's diagonally across. I didn't even think we were going to get out of Washington alive. But we did, and Revival, he left notes. Notes everywhere so I could track him. I'd recognize our sigil anywhere. A black diamond with a vertical line drawn straight through it.

When we were little, that sigil meant everything to us, we would always draw it on our binders, our school work and just about everywhere else we could. It was our way of saying, 'I got your back,' without actually saying anything. We didn't need Phoebe's map of the states, all we needed was mine and Revival's sigil. He puts it every 64 miles, along with a small, ripped piece of a map of where he is headed with a star on it where the next sigil will be.

I take a deep breath, one, two, three, I sit up and get out of my sleeping bag. Today is going to be beginning, I know it is.

I do all the essentials, from getting everything packed up, checking off everything on mine and Phoebe's crumbled up list of items, double checking, and then loading everything into the truck. The truck that I don't know how to drive. I sigh, Phoebe gave me some lessons, but I still suck at it. At least there are no laws anymore so I can screw up as much as I need to, I just can't crash.

I step back into the cabin one last time and look around at everything, making sure I didn't leave anything behind, and to take anything that would be useful to me. After one last swoop of the place, I jingle the truck keys in my hand and go over to Phoebe's grave.

"This is the last time I will probably ever see you, Phoebe, I'll keep you in my heart forever." I kneel down to the stick with the yellow ribbon. I put my fist by it and gently nudge it, "Pound it. I'll miss you."

Tears threaten to drop again, I stand up and wipe my eyes and go back to the truck. I have to get to Georgia. That's where my brother is headed. I am not as excited to see my father, he has a lot of explaining to do. I want to punch him the face and pull him into a hug but then punch him in the face again.

I shake my head, just focus on Revival. I know he's still out there, and I will find my twin brother. I will see him, I know I will.

I get in the driver's seat of Reg, the old pick-up truck. He is as ancient as time but works as if he was brand new. I and Phoebe named him Reg because he looked like he needed a name, and when vehicles have names, Phoebe said that people tend to take care of them better. I can believe that after all, it's just me and Reg now, well, me, Reg and the open road, if I can figure out how to use him again. Before the world collapsed into raging flesh-eating monsters, father was teaching me and Revival how to drive, we only had one lesson with him before everything descended into anarchy.

Phoebe's map is curled into a cup holder, I take it out and put it on my lap. Her handwriting is scribbled all over it. Her handwriting looks exactly how she talked, disorderly and everywhere. Just yesterday we were talking about how she was super excited to meet my brother, she only ever met me and my dad when we were in Washington.

Revival was looked at by another doctor, I forget their name though. The doctors seemed to swarm all around Revival, and I never quite understood why. They were interested in me but not nearly as much as him. All I really remember is the doctors running test after test. I and my brother were always put to sleep, and they never told us why they kept running all the tests, and when we asked about it, they said they did it to everyone. I didn't believe them, but they only ever told father everything, which I found suspicious, and just as I was about to take the papers from their file-folders, the hospital got overran with those monstrosities. That's when we escaped on the helicopter.

I shake my head, stop thinking about Washington, think about Georgia.

Georgia. Georgia. Georgia.

I pull out the ripped piece of map that Revival left me from my green jacket pocket, it's highlighted in blue on what route they are taking. Phoebe's map is highlighted with where we should go in pink. Phoebe always made sure that we had two maps at all times, just in case we ever lost one, we would have the other with the directions on it. She was always preparing for the worst.

I put on my seatbelt, adjust the seat and pull it forward so my feet can reach the pedals before turning the key. I take a deep breath, I'll remember how to do this. It's just like riding a bike. It begins to roll forward, I slam on the break and it jolts and everything shifts in the back of the cab. I begin to sweat. That made a bit more noise than I wanted to in a silent forest. I look around and listen in, there are no growls or screeches. I double check to make sure that both of the doors are locked. They are.

I put my hands on the wheel before ripping them away, everything is fine. Everything is fine. I just got to take a breath, one, two, three. I put my hands on it again and curve the wheel left, towards the highway.

How do I shift gear again? Oh, I remember, I do this, and then that, I move my hands and my feet and everything instinctively falls into place again and the truck begins to move, I tap on the gas and it moves forward. I smile, it is like riding a bike.

I pull out of the dirt road and on to the highway, the sun shines and birds begin to sing. The sky is as a blue as can be and there is not a cloud in sight. It's almost as if the world hasn't descended into a complete chaos with the dead roaming the streets. A sign pops up from the side of the road, sixty miles to Oklahoma, I'll make it there in an hour or so if there are no obstacles on the road.

I slowly press harder on the gas, I am soon I am flying down the highway. All there is on both sides of me is flat, overgrown farmland as far as the eye can see. I smile as tears fight their way out again. The absence of talking is louder than the truck's engine.

I am truly alone.

I straighten up in my seat, just focus on the road that awaits me. The road that needs my focus is the one that I am on, not the one that ended. Look forward, not back. Present and future, not the pa-.

My eyes widen as three small, puffballs sit in the middle of the road. I swerve off the road and into the ditch. I press the break and collect myself. Did I just see, what I think I just I saw? My heart pounds as I look back.

Out of all the things that I expected to see today, this isn't one of them.