Dead. Dead. Alive.

8 - Soph/Kaz

𝙄 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙜, 𝙄'𝙢 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙙

𝙄 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙝𝙚 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙠𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙘𝙮

~

Soph's POV:

Eventually, they found a secure house to stay in. Soph assumed that the dead didn't know how to open gates, and thankfully, the owners of the house were out when the outbreak started.

I mean, it's sad that they died but-

"This'll work, no walking corpses here."

Oh, my lords. I am so bloody tired- I'll drop dead. Deader than the zombies.

Soph yawned, "What's more important? Food or sleep-"

"Sleep," was the immediate reply.

THANK THE LORDS I WAS NOT PREPARED TO COOK.

She ran off in the direction of the bedroom, Kaz following behind at a slower pace.

"DIBS!" She yelled.

Kaz just shrugged, "Go right ahead"

What- I was expecting some competition! Eh, I get the bed either way. But still, she just let me take it? What happened to the saying "there's no honour among thieves"?

Soph quit thinking and flopped onto the bed, staying awake just long enough to take her boots off.

~

Kaz's POV:

Soph had taken the bed, whilst Kaz laid down some spare blankets, and flopped onto the floor. She was out quickly, eyes closing before her head hit the pillow.

~

She blinked, eyes adjusting to the darkness.

Shit.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Not again.

Not again.

Please...

She was suffocating.

Suffocating under the bodies of the dead.

She couldn't breathe.

She was choking.

She couldn't move a muscle - every inch of her touching some part of rotting, cold, clammy, swollen flesh.

She felt vulnerable.

She felt small.

She felt sick.

She was sinking, drowning.

She was stuck.

She let out a choked sob.

"Help!" she called out in a small voice, "Anyone! Please..."

She tried to lift her arm, to reach out to anyone, anything.

All her force, all her effort, went into giving anyone a sign that she wasn't one of them.

She was alive.

She was alive.

She was alive.

She didn't feel alive.