Survivors

Chapter 1

August 17, 2011 

"You ever think these things are going to die off?" 

The question puzzled me. Did she really just ask if the Darkseekers are going to die off? Of all the fucking stupid things I've heard her say, she just asked that? Wow. 

"We're going to die off before they do, Rebecca. I mean, they hunt, they kill, and they show no mercy. You cry when I kill deer." I reply, still baffled by the question thrown out there. 

She looks at the wall in front of her, as if pondering this answer. After a few moments, she nods, perhaps accepting in her head that this seems fair, and blurts out "Well, do you think we'll ever get along with them?" 

I sigh. How the hell did we survive this long. Marky has more problems than are countable since his tour in Iraq. Catherine has no patience with jack shit. Jack's attention span is as long as my pinky. And Rebecca has the intelligence of a bag of fucking potatoes. Christ help me. 

"No Becca. We will never get along with them. Don't forget, they're the enemy. They killed your mom. They killed your dad. They killed Jamie and Chris. They are the enemy." I sigh. 

My heart feels heavy at admitting that for the third time this month. Why does it still hurt? They weren't my family, but after losing mine months after this happened, and them taking me in, they sure did feel like it. Besides, they died months ago. One by one when we still had 37 in our group. Now there are five. And I'm being forced to take up the leadership. 17 and I've got four lives excluding my own to carry and protect. God this sucks. I mean, what ever happened to be 15 and not caring about a damn thing? 

Now, two years later, and I'm hiding in a small ass master bedroom, in a boarded up house, barely illuminated by a dying candle, in the middle of hell, in Louisville, Kentucky. I mean, I could have been anywhere. I could have been on Fort Knox, Fort Campbell, hell, I'd take that gun shop two streets over. That is, of course, if it wasn't filled with those fucks.  

"Yeah... I know." Becca says, water filling her forest green eyes. She struck a chord again, and I feel awful for being mean a moment earlier. We're all just tense... it's nearly 3 in the morning and no one has slept a lick since the night before, thanks to that monster fucking mutilating Steve all over the Kroger's Floor... Right... In front of us... 

"Hey, hey. No crying Becca. Don't." Tears start to fall, and the sniffling starts. I open my arms, motioning for her to come over to me. She nods, eyes starting to close, and lays her head on my lap, crying. I slowly sift my fingers through her hair, mumbling soft words and sweet thoughts. "It's okay Becca bear, it'll be alright." I mumble. 

I feel her sobbing in my lap, and anger overwhelms me. Why did it have to happen? Why did we have to survive to see this shit? What the fuck did I do that was so wrong in a past life that I had to be stuck living in hell for the rest of this one? And why can't I blow my own brains out here and now. 

I look down and feel her start to settle, my fingers still wandering in her long black hair. To think she is two years my elder, but I am still the eldest of the group? How funny is that? I have to be the parent, taking care of my children, willing to give my life, if necessary, in a heartbeat. I stop and it clicks. That's why I can't do it. Out of all the nights we've been here, and I've wondered that very question... it took for this girl - this angel of mine - to figure out why I'm still here. I'm here for them. For my "children." Without me, they'd all be goners. 

I feel her go limp, and hear the sniffles and sobs stop, and realize she fell asleep. I smile slightly, slowly put my left arm under her legs, the crook of her neck under my right, and carry her over to one of the sets of beddings we have laid out. I nudge the blankets with my foot, gently lay her down, and tuck her under the sheets, kissing her on the forehead as I stand up.