BETTER SAFE THAN ZOMBIE

14| Snow

When I woke up the next morning, it was late, and Ethan was nowhere to be seen. I got outside and saw him, sitting with his back on me, shotgun gripped in one hand.

I walked towards him and asked him grumpily why he didn't wake me up for my shift to watch, and I was informed that he heard noises coming from my tent that seemed to sound like either demonic possesion or my having turned into a grunting polar bear by night and he didn't feel like it was nice to interrupt either one.

I told him my snoring isn't that bad, and anyway, shut the hell up.

We packed all our things and walked on, eating our breakfast along the way, which was a can of sausages. It was hardly satisfying, but we have to content ourselves with what we got.

At mid-afternoon, Ethan and I took a break and I was just recapping my water bottle after taking a long swig when a pack of snow hit me right in the face.

I glared at the culprit, swiping the snow away. "Real mature, Ethan."

Another hit me on the chest. "Scared of surrendering to my bad ass prowess?" he taunted.

I stood up. "Oh, its on. This is war."

And I hit him with a snow ball.

***

I laughed like a super villain, wishing there were lightning behind me for special effects. "Surrender! Or I shall torture you for eternity."

Ethan sneered. "Never."

We were both hiding behind a tree, two snow balls ready to shoot gripped on both hands. I peered behind the three to squint at Ethan, but I can only see his jacket. Drawing a deep breath, I screamed a battle cry and charged towards the enemy. Snow buffeted me, but I continued on, bravely fighting for the sake of common good.

At last I reached Ethan. With all my force, I threw both snow balls at him and lunged. The moment was like in slow motion, everything magnified. My hands pushing Ethan to the ground. His cry of surprise. My body falling on top of his. One hand grabbing for the snow. Throwing it on his face. And sitting on top of him, pinning him down.

I pumped my fist in the air. "I WIN!"

I stood up and did a little dance around Ethan, gloating "I win!" over and over again. I laughed. "I win!"

He grinned, propping himself on his elbows and watching me celebrate. The snow slowly trickled down his face, leaving a wet trail. In fact, both of us seemed to be soaked with snow. I plopped back down to lie back on the ground beside Ethan. "I win," I breathed, adrenaline still surging up in my body. I felt like I was still seven years old, carefree and innocent without a single fistfight written under my name.

Ethan affected an Australian accent mixed with Scottish. "Aye, aye, you win," he said. "But you see, mate, I only let you win. Being a gentleman an' all."

I stuck my tongue out. "Excuses, excuses," I said haughtily.

We lay there on our backs for a while, gazing at the cloudless blue sky. After a moment, I said to Ethan, "Do you think my father is there too?"

Ethan turned to me, taken aback at the sudden question. "There?" he questioned.

"You know," I said, not looking at him, "At the place your parents probably went on north. I mean, surely there was a place they could stay in there. My dad...do you think he's there with them?"

"I don't know Hazel," Ethan replied. "But I hope he's there. And my parents too."

I finally looked back at him. "You and me both."

"Let's make snow angels," Ethan suddenly said, and he started moving his arms and legs, making a pair of wings. He grinned at me. "Few people could say this: 'I lived the Apocalypse, and I made snow angels.' C'mon, Haze," he persuaded. "Let's leave our mark for the world to find. Let's make snow angels."

It wasn't the idea that had me moving; it was because he used a nickname for me, and I was struck by how it touched me. No one used an endearment to call me before, not even my closest friends.

I smiled to myself. Funny how Ethan and I became inseparable, despite the fact that we first got off on the wrong foot. Also funny is the fact that when I finally realized how messy my life is, and how amazing it is to do the things I used to scorn, like making snow angels and having a snowball fight, it would be during the Apocalypse, when the world was ending and everyone was doomed to die.

Talk about ironic.

***

A scream echoed in the night.

A week had passed, and Ethan and I were sitting, talking about our past relationships when we heard the scream. We immediately gathered all our weapons, and Ethan holding a flashlight, we got out of our nice little tent and out of the clearing and towards the road, where the scream definitely came from. It was near midnight, so the fire we had built had been long extinguished, leaving only the glow of our flashlights to illumine the heavy darkness.

Once we were on the road, Ethan swung the flashlight towards north, where we heard an almost inaudible sobbing. The flashlight revealed a little girl, her blond hair in tangles, hugging herself at the middle of the road, at a little distance from us. She was crying, and her yellow dress was in tatters around her, soaked with blood. I gasped, and without a second thought, I ran towards her, ignoring Ethan's cry of "Hazel, stop!"

"Please," she moaned, rocking back and fro, "Somebody help me!"

"Its okay," I called to her, stopping a few feet away. I heard Ethan curse, and the sound of his shoes slapping the pavement echoed in the night as he ran towards me. He skidded just beside me, drawing to a halt. 

I outstretched an arm for her to grab. "Its okay," I repeated. "We got you. We're good people."

The pitiful little girl slowly raised her head, and I caught just a glimpse of those awful red eyes before she opened her mouth to reveal jagged teeth. "But I'm not," she snarled before she lunged at me, her hands forming into claws. 

She must be newly turned if she can talk, I thought vaguely before that damnable blackness dragged me under.