The Dark Ones

Chapter 6

The pounding of the door went to the same beat as my heart. That is saying a lot considering it was almost constant banging. The only thing that was keeping me semi-calm was holding Zaynes hand.

"You're adorable when your scared," Zayne whispered to me. I mean, was it really necessary to flirt at this moment? But the weird part is, was I wanted to flirt back. I watched the people scramble to doors and windows trying to keep the blockade secure. I took out my knife. I'm ready. The zombies broke through the door I counted four that stumbled in I grabbed one by the shoulder and smashed it against the wall. Then a beautiful woman taller than me came out. She was wearing similar clothes to me. But she had glasses. "Megan! Help!" Zayne cried out. Megan ran over and drug the monster off of him. She punched a few times then it hit the ground dead. She hadn't penetrated the skull at all, she simply punched the right spots. I killed one zombie in the time that Zayne killed three in the time that Megan killed 10. The house got too overcrowded with the dead. Zayne grabbed Megan and I. We ran up the stairs and into the bathroom. We shut the door and locked it. We heard all the screams from downstairs. We knew everybody had died in that house, besides us. We are the survivors of the survivors.

"I'm Megan," Megan extended her hand to me and I took it shaking it.

"Wren," I dittoed her greeting.

"Could you tell us a little about yourself Wren?"

"Yeah sure?" What was I supposed to say? "I'm Wren, as you know. I lead a boring life. I go to high school, I'm sixteen. I really like music. My favorite color is blue," Megan just gave me a dumb look.

"That could've been the worst description of someone I've ever heard," she said laughing "I'll go," I was ready to hear her story. "The name is Megan. When the apocalypse struck I was in my room listening to music. I knew something was up when my dad came in my room. My dad never used to go into my room. He said it was 'goth' and that it scared him. So music is a big part of my life as well. I also enjoy drawing, singing, writing, and photography. I suppose I could end like Wren did. My favorite color is lavender." The way she mimics me really doesn't bother me as it would with some people.

"I'm Zay,"

"Did anybody ask you?" Megan interrupted with a grin.

"Let cutie talk," I sorta snapped at Megan, but she didn't care

"I'm Zayne, I get my happiness from other peoples happiness. You're happy? I'm happy." The rest I sort of zoned out. I watched his mouth move and the way he laughed. His eyes a deep sea blue with a bit of green seaweed in it. Then he smiled. Dimples. Enough said. I could feel myself falling for him over and over again. "Wren? What do you think?" I got very stunned by the spotlight suddenly turned on me.

"Uhm, yes," I probably sounded drunk. But the truth was that I was drunk. Drunk on love. Drunk on Zayne.

"I asked you what you were doing before the general store," He laughed. I laughed. Megan laughed "Shhhhh... I hear them," I heard them too creeping up stairs then the occasional one falling down the stairs. Laughing is all I can do. This is crazy. This whole day has been the craziest thing. At first I was kidnapped, then my kidnappers die and save my life. The best part of today was meeting Zayne. Even though in that encounter I put a knife into his leg. To top it all off I'm sitting in a bathroom with zombies outside the door with people I just met.

"Long story," I decided to go with that because was I really going to tell him I got kidnapped? No. I wasn't.

"We should probably think about hitting the hay, guys," Megan was right I was exhausted. Getting nearly raped takes a lot out of you I guess.

"Yeah, we should," I wanted to go to bed, but I already know that I won't be able to even close my eyes. Zayne grabbed out a big blanket and Megan pulled a sleeping bag out of a small tootsie roll shaped bag. Lovely, I had nothing to sleep with. At first, sleeping with just shorts and a t-shirt on wasn't bad. Then I started shivering, I was freezing. Then I felt an arm on me, this time I didn't turn around lodging a knife in his leg. But I knew it was him.

"Are you cold?" He asked as if he didn't know the answer. His voice was sleep-drunk.

"Of course I am," I sounded like a stuck up brat saying it the way I did, but I was freezing. Then I felt a blanket drape over me. The biggest, fluffiest, and comfiest blanket I've ever felt. "Thank you," I whispered.

"I wouldn't want my songbird to get hypothermia," he said. Even though he was drunk on sleep but he still laughed a bit.

"You're songbird, huh?" I asked. But I liked it. I was his songbird. I don't want to be anybody else's.