The scheduling for the guard watch wasn't fairly distributed throughout the group of survivors in your group. Your leader wasn't forgiving or kind to those who didn't follow his rules, so he'd make them work longer. One of those people just happened to be yourself. You didn't agree with one of his plans because you knew that the building he wanted to search was full of Z's and none of you would have survived.

     He didn't like the fact that you had interrupted and placed your opinion, so he left you to do guard duty. But one of the other members who was a male had repeated what you said, as he also believed the same thing, and had been listened to. So, your leader didn't send the others in the group on a suicide mission.

     You were with another member of your group, Davis. You were both on watch, for the same area, as two extra eyes were better than one. Davis could be extremely nice, or extremely rude. There was never an in between. But you didn't care how you acted towards him, which surprisingly meant he was nice to you. He liked the fact you didn't skirt around him or try to get on his good side.

     Your leader of the group, some idiot who referred to himself as the 'Zombie King' for whatever reason, had locked himself away in one of the smaller supply buildings, claiming to do inventory. When really, he was hiding supplies for himself if the group ever needed to evacuate the small town you were stuck in. But you and Davis just called him King, as he wasn't a zombie king, but still acted like a royal pain in the ass.

     "Did King tell you about the plan to move down south?"

     You glanced over to Davis who was looking through his gun lens to see if anyone or anything was approaching, he didn't bother looking over to you. You looked back to your area, scanning the tree line that met the small town. You were both on top of a one-story building roof, squatting down to try and limit the chance of being spotted.

     "Uh, yeah, briefly. He said he didn't want to ruin my 'pretty little mind' with politics. Although, I hardly count that moving camp is a part of politics." Davis let out a small laugh.

     "What do you think about the plan, sharpshooter?"

     "I think it's a death sentence, Dave." You shrugged, although he wouldn't have seen.

     "Why do you propose that is?"

     "Well for starters, is warmer down south and Z's swarm to the heat," you told him before holding your gun up to look through the lens when you thought you saw movement.

     "Okay, well you said for starters, you gotta give me more than that, babe."

     "Okay, well those who would have survived down south would have made their way up north to the cold. Where Z's seem to migrate from, so they would have raided most of the supply stores, liquor stores, and any hospital with medical equipment early on, leaving nothing but dust," you told him.

     Davis was older than you by about four or five years. He lost his girlfriend early on in the apocalypse and never made an effort with anyone else. He felt that it would be cheating, as he never really broke up or got over his girlfriend. But that didn't mean he wasn't a shameless flirt. But that was all he was. Just a flirt. Which was why he called you babe, it was nothing more than a nickname.

     "Then we go north." You looked back to him, noticing the shrug. "We have supplies, ammo, food, water, weapons, the ability to hot-wire a car and someone to keep us both sane." You turned back around with a thoughtful look.

     You could easily leave with Davis, go up north and start a new life. It wouldn't be hard to sneak away. He had his own truck that he used, and he usually only had you as a passenger while everyone else used the other cars or were made use motorbikes. You did have supplies, and quite a bit. Davis hoarded them in the back of his truck underneath a blanket, hidden behind the one-way glass in his car.

     But then again, if you were found leaving you'd both be shot for 'treason' as King liked to put it. You weren't sure if you could risk it. But you could. You knew you could. You were pretty sure that King set both you and Davis up on a supply run later on in the night, and it was the evening now. Glancing back to him you noticed he was already looking.

     His dirty light blond hair had grown out slightly since your first meeting with him, his darkish blond stubble made him look slightly older but still attractive. His almost blue-green eyes lost the sparkle in the corner and now looked dull. His clothes were ripped, mostly his black shirt and red and black plaid button up thrown over it. His black trousers and hunting boots were worn out and scuffed with blood stains.

     "Sharpshooter? You still with me, babe?" You snapped out of your daydream and nodded. "With me, with me?" He questioned.

     "Yeah, I'm with you, we should leave while on the supply run." Davis grinned and nodded before looking back through his lens, you, doing the same to your gun while waiting for it to get dark.

-

     "Ready?" Davis asked as he closed his door and put the keys in the ignition.

     "I'm ready, are you?" You looked over at him and he merely chuckled while starting up the truck.

     "I've been ready for a while, I was just waiting for the right time to ask you." He started to drive up the road, his headlights barely on as he sped down the roads.

     "I've been ready to leave as soon as I joined," you told him as you settled into the chair, it was going to be a long trip. Davis wanted to make sure that you were both long gone before you rested up anywhere. He'd rather not die at the hand of a man who was clinically insane and only wore kimonos and flip flops most days.

     "Rest up, babe, we'll be on the road for a while, and I'll need you awake to drive next." You simply nodded and rested your head back, closing your eyes, letting sleep take over.

-

     You were on the road for almost a day when Davis pulled over to an empty petrol station to fill up. You got out of the truck with your gun and went inside to collect more supplies for the road. It was quite dark and the petrol station had been overgrown in weeds and plants as the small off-road station was abandoned, miles away from another town.

     "See if you can find hot Cheetos!" Davis called out as he started filling the truck. You held up two fingers as a weak peace sign signaling you would do so.

     Once inside you went to the first aisle, opening your bag to shove the supplies in. You found the hot Cheetos and grabbed the last packet on the shelf. You heard muffled yells outside, zipping up your bag filled with food, water, and ammo you held your gun up and made your way outside.

     Z's were everywhere, Davis was shooting at them slightly panicked, you began to shoot one by one. The Z count dropping to about ten or so. You heard something to your right and shot at it, the Z falling to the ground. More gunshots echoed in the road, Davis leading them away from the truck for you.

     "Go!" He yelled at you while shooting down more.

     "Look out!" You heard another voice that wasn't Davis' yell, a sound of a thud behind made you turn and see a Z flat on the ground. You turned back and saw a boy with slightly long hair, but not as long as Davis' slightly slicked back with the grease and blood from the lack of showers. He was around your age, with dark brown hair.

     "Davis!" You yelled as you turned to your partner, shooting more Z's.

     "Just go!"

     "Not without you!" You shook your head.

     "Go! This way I can be with my girlfriend. When I turn I want you to kill me, so I can be with her again. Promise me you'll do what I did for her for me!" He yelled as he ran out of ammo, stabbing the Z's instead.

     "I can't!" You screamed back.

     "Babe, please." His voice sounded broken like he was already gone. "You have to do this for me, sharpshooter. I got you out of that hell, you'll get me out of this one—AHH!" He yelled as a Z bit down on his arm, you could see the other one bite him as he struggled to fight them off. 

     Soon enough blood was dribbling down his chin, his eyes went pale and his skin drained of colour, you held up your gun and aimed for his head.

     "Goodbye, Dave." You pulled the trigger. His head snapped back as he dropped to the ground. The Z's turned to you, but the boy from before grabbed your shoulders and pulled you to the truck, you got into the passenger side, he was on the driver's side. He started up the truck and just drove.

     He drove in the direction you and Davis were headed. The direction to where you and Davis would have been safe. The boy was driving up north. You couldn't get yourself to cry for your friend who had just died, so instead, you closed your eyes and tried to imagine what your future would have been like with him.

-

     "Wake up." A hand shook your shoulder hard, you groggily opened one eye and saw the boy from before, he was still driving, but it was lighter now. Early in the morning no doubt. You sat up more and looked out the window.

     "Where are we?"

     "Uh, Canada I guess." He shrugged. "I just drove, I think we went past the border, I wasn't really paying much attention to the signs. I was just following the meter that said North." He pointed to the dashboard with a small compass that told you which direction you were heading.

     "Why did you take me with you? You could have left me to die with him." Your eyes flickered over to him.

     "Was he your boyfriend?"

     "No, he was my friend." Your eyes scanned his face.

     He had pale skin, with small bruises and cuts, three going down his cheek, his hair was brushed back like you remembered seeing before. He had what looked like black army trousers and boots, with a black long-sleeved shirt with a slightly dark blue-grey t-shirt over it. Over the headrest of his seat, he had a leather jacket with one shoulder red with small spikes.

     "Company," he spoke up after a minute of silence.

     "What?"

     "You asked why I took you with me. Company," he said slightly quietly.

     "You just wanted company? You could have picked someone else."

     "Actually, you were the first person I've met in about two months, so no I couldn't have. But gee, sorry for saving your life or whatever," he mumbled towards the end. "No need to thank me." He stared at the road ahead of him.

     "No, you're right, I'm sorry. Thanks for saving my ass back there," you told him before looking back to the road.

     "Murphy." He tried to hold his hand out to you for you to shake. "John Murphy." You shook his hand and told him your own name before you both fell into silence once more.

-

     Snow.

     There was snow everywhere. It was about a week's worth of driving and a week's worth of getting to know Murphy. You found him to be very protective over you, even though you had only known each other for a week. He didn't like any other surviving groups you had met, he ignored their invites to stay and join or to just have a quick meal and shower.

     He didn't trust anyone. Which you found comforting, he was similar to Davis in that way. He reminded you of him, he just had a different name and face. He was also a flirt, he would also only talk to you nicely while others got the cold shoulder or a fist to the face. Murphy kept you sane like Davis once did, and you hoped you did the same for him.

     "I think I see a house?" Murphy mumbled to himself, the truck was thankfully able to drive through the snow, which looked untouched.

     As he made his way up the, once dirt, path—one could only assume that was what it was when it wasn't covered in snow—and towards a cabin building surrounded by woods. There were no lights on, no smoke from the chimney and no other cars or indication that someone else was there.

     "We should check it out," you told him as he stopped the truck, you grabbed your gun and got out, he did the same with his own. You quietly made your way up to the door and opened the door slowly. No sound of moaning or groans or strange noises could be heard.

     When you first walked in you were met with a wide-open space. On the right-hand side, you were met with a living room, large grey sofas and a coffee table, a large TV in front on top of the fireplace. A single seater with a fluffy white throw over it, a doorway leading to what looks like a study. On the left, there was a dining room table with chairs, a few bookcases around the walls, a doorway at the back leading to a large kitchen.

     Murphy gently pushed you in and closed the doors behind you both. He placed the truck keys in his pocket and motioned for you to go right while he went left. The living room also had a large red rug and a few shelves of movies. You walked through to the study and saw a large dark wooden desk with bookcases, papers, files, a sofa, and another TV mounted on the wall in front of the desk.

     "You've got to check this out," Murphy whispered as he poked his head through a doorway in the corner of the room, not the one you walked in but one closer to the back of the room by a window with large dark red curtains, like the other ones in the other room. You followed him to the kitchen with your eyebrows furrowed.

     He opened the fridge, it was still working and stocked with food, you glanced at him and he grinned. You quickly went to the other cupboards and noticed they were stocked as well. You let out a small laugh, you could believe that you had found this place. Murphy quickly covered your mouth and motioned to the ceiling. You still had another floor to check out.

     The stairs were in front of the front door, a red rug leading up the wooden stairs. Murphy went first. The first door on the left led to what looked like a spare bedroom. Large double bed and a wardrobe. The right-hand door led to a bedroom with a bathroom. The door that was opposite the stairs led to—what was probably—the master bedroom with an ensuite bathroom and walk-in wardrobe. You both checked the rooms and found nothing.

     "Maybe they left for holiday and never came back," you told him and you both went downstairs and out to the truck to collect some of the supplies to bring indoors. "We are in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by woods, with what looks like a thick wooden fence around the place, we drove through an open gate—" You started.

     "We'll stay here," he told you as he locked the truck and walked up the steps to the house.

     "What?"

     "No one else is here, I doubt that they are going to find this place, we almost drove past the small road to get here, we can close the gate from a button on the kitchen wall, we can stay here. We've got enough supplies, spare clothes, a shower—"

     "How do you know it'll work?"

     "Well if the fridge is still going I'm sure the water is too." Murphy placed the supplies in the kitchen and turned to you, grabbing the bags from your hands.

     "Someone lives here, Murphy," you told him.

     "Yeah, us." You sighed. "What's the problem, princess? There are no Z's, no other survivors to bother us, it's just you and me, and heating, warm water, clothes, a bed..." You couldn't help but smile. "See, there's the smile I've seen on you about five times and have grown to love." He grinned before walking out of the kitchen and upstairs.

     You furrowed your eyebrows and opened your mouth, it was obviously too late to respond, so you just turned around and pressed the keypad on the wall, closing the outside gate, locking Murphy, yourself and the truck with the house. He was right, no one would ever find this place. So, you might as well get comfortable.

-

     It was a weird sensation. Being clean. Murphy was right about the running water. You both had showers and found spare clothes that fit to wear. You placed your old clothes in the washing machine and placed his in as well. Just to be sure. Your newly washed hair smelt a lot nice, no longer having blood, grease, and dirt. You walked towards the living room, Murphy somehow getting the tv to work to watch a movie.

     You sat down on the sofa and let out a small sigh, you never felt relaxed, but you were sure that was what you were feeling right now. Murphy looked over to you before looking at the gap between you, he glared at it before pulling your body closer to his, you let out a small yelp before looking up at him, his eyes focused on the movie. His left arm over the back of the sofa, around your shoulders.

     "Why did you do that?"

     "It's cold outside." He shrugged.

     "The heating is on, it's warm inside. We aren't outside," you told him.

     "Okay, you got me." He raised his eyebrows and waved his hands pathetically with a fake mocking voice.

     "Murph." You rolled your eyes at him.

     "Is it so wrong that I want you close to me?" He asked without looking at you, his eyes trained on the movie.

     "No..."

     "Is it wrong that I don't like you being far away from me?"

     "I wasn't far away..." He cleared his throat. "No," you sighed.

     "Is it wrong that I like knowing that if something goes wrong that I can easily protect you if you're closer to me?"

     "No." You shook your head.

     "Is it wrong if I do this?" He let go of the remote and with his right hand he cupped your face and brought his lips to yours, his breath was minty with the toothpaste you both used. You moved your lips against his, holding onto the front of his shirt while his thumb rubbed your cheek gently before he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours.

     "No," you whispered out before you pulled him back towards you for another kiss.