[18+ COMPLETED] BOOK 2
A war that destroyed the world. It came and it went, leaving death and chaos in its wake.
In the resulting turmoil England has split into four regions, a safety measure that was 'essential' to ensure that violence would not r...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I finish with the final dusting of dirt, chucking the shovel down onto the ground beside Callum as he looks over the freshly disturbed mud in front of us. The new graveyard.
We moved the enemy somewhere else, dragging their bodies into a pile before setting them alight and watching them burn.
This, the graveyard, this is for our own people. The ones who left the safety of London in the hope to help us all.
They didn't even make it past theirown southern people.
Emilia is standing off to the side, leaning up against a tree as Poppy talks to her. Her eyes aren't focused on my sister, instead trained on the mass of graves, unemotional and unaffected.
She looks as though she's watching a football game on the TV, but instead of the team she supports, she's being forced to watch someone else. She doesn't care.
Not a single trace of emotion is visible on her hard face and I grimace at the sight, ignoring Jordan and Callum's bickering about where we should go from here. She needs me more than them right now.
I step closer to my girl, reaching out and placing my hand on her cheek the first moment I can. She's real. She's safe and she's alive and that's something. I just hope she isn't as damaged as she looks.
"Poppy, can you give us a minute?" I ask my sister in a strained voice. She nods, glancing between the two of us before stepping away. "Em?"
"Shouldn't we move?" she replies, her eyes drifting up to my face. They aren't even concentrating on me, almost like she isn't even here with us. With me.
"Move?" I repeat and she shrugs.
"That fire you started. It'll draw more Slayers."
I nod. "Callum and Jordan are already planning a new campground."
"Cool," she replies, looking away from me and back out to the graves.
"Em?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you okay?" I ask, truly terrified for the answer.
She scoffs, shaking her head before looking up at me. I finally see a flash of emotion within her eyes, something akin to confusion. "I don't know. I feel numb."
"That's understandable, you've-"
"No!" She cuts me off, reaching out and gripping onto my T-Shirt. I'm surprised by the gesture, reaching out and placing my hands on her hips. I'd be a liar if I said it was purely for her benefit, the feel of her in my arms all I ever need to fucking calm down. And after killing ten plus people, she's my damn sedative.
"You don't get it!" she continues. "I'm numb. I feel nothing. We do this too often."
"I know," I tell her and she buries her head in my chest as I lean down, placing my lips on her hair and pressing down. "It's a motherfucking bitch."
