a day undead

Woman Rage

layla miller

I turned the corner of the farmer's market—there was still a block or two to walk until we got to the superstore, meeting up with Jack and Blaire. I kicked a rock, expecting it to go far, but it stopped at someone's foot who at stopped in front of me. I looked up and saw Jack. He was looking down, and it looked like he was crying. I wasn't sure, because his head was tilted just so that I could barely see his face. "Jack?" Asher whispered beside me. I glanced around, looking for Blaire. My heartbeat started to quicken. I forced a smile, as big as a could; but it didn't even reach a point where you could even call it a real smile.

"J-Jack?" I stuttered, "Why'd you leave Blaire at the—"

"Layla," Asher tried to whisper, tried to touch my arm, but I whipped it away and yelled out, "Jack, go get Blaire!" Jack blinked and looked up, his eyes red. He looked like he was sobbing. Even more tears spilled out of his eyes, and now I could just barely see anything from the tears forming in my own eyes. I shook my head and turned away.

Asher touched my shoulder, and, I somehow managed not to pull away. I stood there, thinking for a minute. I closed my eyes. As cliché as it may seem—something Blaire'd always say to me—Blaire would want us to move on. Move on while looking good, I could hear her saying in my head. I laugh-cried, managed to get out a short second of laughter which was really a sad laugh, and looked back at the two boys. Jack had looked up, tears still in his eyes, and Asher also looked at me. He gave me a sad, reassuring smile, and I forced a smile back. I wiped my face with my sleeve.

I sniffed. "We can—" I started, and took a deep breath when I realized my voice was still a bit shaky. "We have to go back. We can't spend our whole life living on a boat."

"What?" Asher started, confused. I shook my head.

"Eventually, we'll run out of food. Blaire was right, it's a serious chance we won't survive either way." Asher and Jack gave each other this sad look, the look me and Blaire would always give each other when we were said. The memory made my heart ache, and I shut my eyes. I took another deep breath and turned around to face the two. "Let's go back to the city."

They didn't really argue with me, given the fact that Asher knew I wasn't going to be in this "forgive-and-forget" mood for long at all, and Jack was in no mood to argue—or speak, period.  We walked for a bit. Everyone was quiet, and it was night. I could hear crickets contrasting with the sound of the rocks under our shoes crunching as we took each step, unaware of where we were headed. The walk back to the city would be long; it would take us forever to get back. I kept looking down at my feet as I walked.

carson stewart

I'm going to be completely honest. Back in high school, back when the first apocalypse started, I was definitely no 'ladies' man'. And when the second apocalypse hit, I was still not pulling anyone. But sitting with Rebecca, I definitely thought I had game. Major game. Every second with her made me feel irresistible. Metaphorically.

We were walking around in this abandoned looking town. We saw a major hoard of zombies running past a farmer's market, and we had to duck down behind some shrubs as they passed. As we walked, unsure what to do for our (most likely) last minutes of life, I heard footsteps. I stopped in my tracks snd listened. They were coming from the other side of the fence we were walking by, the way the zombies had gone. I stood, frozen, unsure what to do, as there was an opening. The zombies would surely get to us from there. But I wasn't sure why I couldn't run.

I forced myself to peek past the fence—something told me to look. When I peeked through the opening, the footsteps grew louder and louder. Soon, they'd almost pass the opening in the fence. Something told me I was safe, though. Something told me not to run.

Then, I saw Asher walk past the fence. I smiled and ran through the opening, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him into a hug. Almost immediately, he recognized me and joined in with my hug. We stood there for a bit, then me and Jack hugged. I went to hug Layla, too, but she stepped back. She was probably upset about the whole apocalypse. I looked around, realizing that one of them was missing.

"Where's Blaire?" I asked, enthusiastically, expecting her to pop out from behind the corner, probably holding a bat, probably trash talking someone under her breath. Asher, though, shook his head at me, raising his hand in a motion that said no. My smile fell, and my gaze glanced to Layla, then settled on Jack, and I shook my own head. I looked down.

We all stood in silence, though I didn't get time to process her death—I assumed she died—when the headlights of a car shown brightly at us, coming down the road. I looked up and saw Jack holding up his hand to block the light, squinting. I recognized the car—it was the same car that belonged to the one who attempted to shoot me earlier.

layla miller

The bat leaning against the brick wall practically called to me. It was the first weapon Blaire would ever think of when it came to a fight—the first thing she thought of when she got mad. When she really saw red. When she needed to have a good fit.

I swung the bat over my shoulders, barely squinting as I walked toward the bright headlights. I walked, one foot in front of the other, as I made my way to Charlie's car. The minor scratches on my palms burned against the neck of the bat. I reached the hood of the car. I saw Charlie inside, smirking at me. This was his fault; it had to be. Most likely, he started all of this.

Charlie's sinister smile basically beckoned me to do it. My grip tightened around the bat's neck. I narrowed my eyes at Charlie in the car. I knew Asher, Jack and Carson were all watching from where we all started. Charlie was practically shouting at me. Telling me to kill him.

My grip on the neck of the bat tightened so much, my knuckles were probably white. The scowl on my face felt so deep, you could tell my anger was bubbling. Gettin ready to explode. I just needed one last push.

And I got what I asked for. Charlie winked at me—as if he didn't cause the death of Blaire—as if he didn't try to shoot her. Try to kill her. I pulled the bat off my shoulder and swung it at the hood of the car; when I heard the crash against the hood, I didn't stop there. I heaved the bat back to shoulder level and swung again. The glass on the windshield shattered everywhere; soon enough, the car alarm was going off. I kept swinging the bat at the car. I saw red. I kept picking up the bat from different angles and swinging it with all the strength I could. I wanted to ruin the car, just like he tried to ruin me. With one last heave, I held the bat over my head and threw it down to the car; I heard one last crash. I stood there for a second, panting heavily. I glanced around and glared at Charlie again. The idiot was trying to crawl out of the car, get to safety.

I paced over and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, using my strength to shove him back to the ground. I pinned him to the rough, rocky road with my shoe, pressing hard against his chest with the sole of my converse. I looked down at him with a glare. He looked scared. Good. 

Soon, I was pulled back. I did't have to shift my gaze to know that it was Asher who had pulled me away from Charlie. Charlie himself scrambled to his feet, panting heavily with fear. He staggered back a bit, fearfully breathing, a look of terror on his face. "You psycho!" He yelled. "I hope you meet your fu—ing best friend in h—" 

Charlie didn't finish the sentence before I ripped away from Asher and my fist met his face—Charlie fell back again, crawling to get up, holding his face in pain. I watched as he ran off. I almost felt like smirking, but my serious look remained. I slowly turned around, wiping the bit of dirt and blood off my cheek as the car alarm blared behind me.

(woman rage + layla = 🤌🏻)