Love of two is one

Here but now they're gone

Came the last night of sadness

And it was clear she couldn't go on

Then the door was open and the wind appeared

The candles blew then disappeared

The curtains flew then he appeared, saying don't be afraid

- Blue Oyster Cult (Don't Fear the Reaper, 1976)

They were crossing the mountains separating West Virginia and Virginia when Lisa died - just east of a town called Brandywine that burned to the ground at some point during or after the plague: Charred buildings flanked fire-scorched streets, and gutted cars blocked Route 33 at weird angles. As far as Lynn could tell, it started at a BP station on a corner and spread out before dying down, probably during a rainstorm. That had to be it, or otherwise the vast forest surrounding the village would have gone up too.

The last night of Lisa's life, they camped in a roadside restaurant called Fatboy's Pork Palace: The mascot on the sign out front was a smiling pig wearing a bib and holding a fork in one hand and a knife in the other. Lynn didn't like him - he looked too happy, like he was mocking them, taking cruel delight in their misfortune. Yummy, he seemed to say, your tears taste soooo good. Before going in, she unshouldered her Springfield 3006, aimed down the scope, and put a hole right between his eyes. Take that, Fatboy.

Inside, a wood floored dining room stood empty save for a mess of tables and chairs, each of the former covered by a red and white checkered cloth. She and Lincoln moved them aside and laid out their sleeping bags while Luan tended to Lisa, who was in the final stages of infection, her body trembling with chills and her ashen face coated in sweat. Blood seeped through the bandage on the side of her neck, and every labored breath made her gasp in pain. If you moved her, she cried out - her muscles were cramping, Lynn knew all too well, and if you were to turn her over, her back would be covered in purple bruises that weren't bruises at all...it was blood pooling.

For all intents and purposes, Lisa was already dead. Literally.

No one knew how the plague worked - Lisa tried to study it as best she could on the road, but surviving took precedence. She figured out how it affected the body, but couldn't understand how the body could 'die' while the brain lived. It's quite the head scratcher, she said. The brain, she said, was the last thing to go, but it didn't go entirely, which is how they were able to come back...which is why you had to kill the brain to kill the ghoul.

In the last days, before communications broke down, they said they were on the breakthrough of a cure, and when it all fell apart, Lisa insisted that they go to Washington. Surely the government still exists, she explained. There is a vast network of bunkers in the area designed and constructed during the Cold War with enough space for top military and civilian officials and their families. If anything remains, it will be there.

They left Royal Woods on June 29 - Lynn, Lisa, Luan, Lincoln, Luna, Lori, Lucy, and Leni. Mom, Dad, Lily, Lola, and Lana were already dead, chained in the basement because no one, not even Lisa, who constantly repeated they aren't our loved ones anymore, could bring themselves to put them down. Lynn didn't like thinking of them, alone in the eternal darkness of the cellar, damp like a crypt, dead but alive, tormented by perpetual hunger. If she did, she'd cry, and as they marched east, it fell to her to be the strong one. Lori, the de facto leader, was the first to die, bitten on the arm in Toledo. Lynn chopped it off with a machete, but the infection was quicker. Leni was dead, killed on a supply run, then Luna and Lucy: They stopped in a small town on the Ohio/West Virginia border, and while Lucy and Luna were inside an abandoned grocery store, a flock of fresh ones, quicker and stronger than the older ones, swept through like ravenous flood water.

They had to leave them.

That was the hardest decision Lynn had ever made in her life, but she had the others to think about, and if they stayed, they all would have died too.

One-by-one, the Louds fell as they traveled east through Ohio and West Virginia until only Lynn, Lincoln, Luan, and Lisa remained. Four.

Soon to be three.

Pushing that thought away, Lynn went through the room and gathered all of the table clothes, then handed half to Lincoln, who took them without speaking. They'd done this a hundred times over the past month and a half: Cover the windows so they couldn't see you. The area was rural and Lynn hadn't seen many since Parkersburg - the ones she had seen were older, their movements slow, their bodies decaying in the summer sun. A few lie broken in the road, reaching with skeletal arms: When she saw them, she made sure to crunch them under the big tires of the Broncco.

Even so, there had to be some in the woods. They were within a hundred miles of the D.C. metro area, which, before the plague, was the sixth most populous city in the nation. The dead naturally spread out after the cities were overrun, searching endlessly for living flesh...flesh that was becoming harder and harder to find. Lisa estimated that there were less than five thousand people left alive in the United States out of a pre-plague total of 325 million.

Less than five thousand.

When the windows were covered, Lynn went into the dining room and knelt next to Luan, who held a damp cloth against Lisa's forehead, her eyes hollow and haunted and her lips quivering. Lisa lay on a heap of sleeping bags, her eye closed and her chest rapidly rising and falling. "How is she?" Lynn asked, even though she knew damn well how her sister was.

Luan opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again when the tears came. She covered her face with her hand, got to her feet, and fled, leaving Lynn alone with the dying girl. Sighing, Lynn looked away from Lisa's pale countenance, her eyes going to Lincoln, who sat against the wall wiping his M-16 with napkins from a dispenser, her eyes focused entirely on the task at hand and not on his dying sister.

She looked at Lisa again - her teeth chattered and her eyelids fluttered as though she were dreaming. Last night, at the end of her lucidity, she said she dreamed of Mom, Dad, and the others coming for her, looking through the windows with dead faces and cannibal smiles. Don't let them get me, she said tiredly, put me down. I don't want to be one of them.

Lynn said that she would, but she didn't know if she could.

Getting to her feet, she turned to Lincoln. "Can you sit with her?"

He didn't reply.

"Linc," she said sharply.

He lifted his head, and Lynn was not surprised that his eyes were red and wet. "I'm right here," he said.

She glanced at Lisa. Good enough, she figured. Grabbing her rifle from its spot on a table, she went after Luan, finding here out back, sitting on a step and hugging her knees to her chest. A wide grassy plain sloped up to dense forest, a warm breeze stirring the treetops. A cloud passed in front of the sun like a bad omen as Lynn stepped out, and the day darkened. Lynn scanned the treeline, but didn't see any of the dead. Slinging the rifle over her shoulder, she sat next to her older sister and stared into the woods, her heartbeat elevated. Before, she loved being outside, now, even though she never said, it scared her. "You should come back inside. It's not safe out here."

Luan sniffed wetly but didn't speak.

"I know you don't wanna see it," Lynn said, "I don't wanna see it either, but she…" she trained off, emotion welling in her throat. She swallowed thickly. "This is it," she said, "the end."

"I know," Luan moaned miserably. "I don't want to do this again." Her voice was a breathy, broken whisper that scoured Lynn's heart like broken glass. She put her hand on the older girl's shoulder and tried to find the right words to say, but they didn't exist - they hadn't before, and, she suspected, they never would.

Ahead, in the woods, something moved, and Lynn tensed. Luan sensed her apprehension, and looked up just as a ghoul shambled from the underbrush, its sole arm grasping and the bottom half of its face missing. Its gray, mottled flesh hung from its deteriorating frame in tatters and one of its feet dragged limply through the grass. Luan shivered, and Lynn blinked. "Go inside," she said.

Luan didn't move; she was frozen in fear like she always was when one of them appeared. Lynn tried not to think of her as dead weight, but in this one regard, she was.

The thing came closer - Lynn could smell it now, ripe and sickly sweet, like spoiled meat. Its wet gurgling moan found her ears, and sent shivers down her spine. You can only adapt so much to something so unnatural.

Getting slowly to her feet, Lynn pulled a long, wickedly sharp Bowie knife from the sheath on her belt. Luan came alive, then, and hurried back inside, pausing at the door and watching with terrorized eyes. Lynn wrapped her fingers around the handle and walked out to meet the thing, glancing around to make sure that there were no others.

The thing's muddled eyes widened as she drew closer, and its tongue, hanging limply against its ruined jaw, flopped obscenely back and forth. Ummm...I can taste her skin already. Lynn's heart raced and her breathing increased. It was within reach now, its dead fingers grasping at thin air. Bearing down on her teeth, she brought the knife up, then plunged it into the creature's forehead: The aberrant light in its eyes flickered, and it went limp, its body hanging from the blade. Lynn stepped back and yanked it out, letting the ghoul drop to the ground. She wiped the knife on her jeans and looked at Luan, who rested her head against the doorframe and wept, her eyes squeezed shut and her lips quaking.

The past two and a half months had been hard on all of them, but on Luan especially. Lynn watched as her sister slowly broke, the horrors of the new world weighing heavy upon her fragile psyche. Lynn loved her dearly - she was one of the only people left her in the world - but she was becoming more and more of a liability everyday.

And if it kept up, she was going to get someone killed.

In that moment, Lynn felt the overwhelming burden of responsibility on her shoulders - she was the strongest, the faster, the leader, and aside from Lincoln, who'd grown up a lot on the road, she was completely alone at the top. It was up to her to see them through.

She thought of Lisa and shuddered. You really saw her through, Loud.

Hot tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away and jammed the knife back into its holder. She strode across the yard and up the steps, her ponytail swishing determinedly. "Inside," she said flatly.

Night fell early in the mountains, the sky turning first soft purple then sack-cloth black, the low, rugged hills blending with the heavens like ink before darkness consumed them. The dead were more active after sundown, and normally Lynn wouldn't allow any lights or noise, but tonight was different: Lisa was in the final stages of infection, her jaw clenched and sweat standing on her wan face, and Lynn made an exception. She didn't want Lisa to die in the darkness...and though it killed her, she also wanted to look at her little sister for as long as she could.

Lincoln volunteered to keep watch so that he wouldn't have to watch Lisa. I already said goodbye, he grumbled before grabbing the M-16 and going off. Lynn wanted him with her, needed him, but they needed a sentry more. When the last light of day faded, Lynn lit three Coleman lanterns and arranged them around Lisa's deathbed; feeble light danced across her face and made shadows on the wall. Luan sat on one side and Lynn on the other, the former looking washed out and hollow, the latter feeling washed out and hollow.

During the evening, Lisa was in an out of consciousness, her lids fluttering open here and there and her eyes filled with bewilderment. "This isn't the suppositorium," she muttered deliriously at one point. 'And you're not Dr. Jacobs." Near eight by the digital watch on Lynn's wrist, she struggled to sit up, and Lynn gently laid her back down again.

"Shhh," she said, "i-it's gonna be okay." Her bottom lip started to quiver, and she clamped it so hard between her teeth that she tasted blood. She brushed Lisa's bangs out of her face and pressed her hand to the girl's forehead: She was hot, her body trying desperately to burn the infection out. Lynn had seen this again and again - a half dozen times too many - and she knew how it would end: Lisa would take one last, rattling breath then fall still. Five minutes later, or maybe as long as an hour, she would start to move again, and if Lynn let her, she would rise and seek living flesh.

She was suddenly very aware of the gun on her hip.

Lisa coughed deeply, and red tinged mucus plopped onto her chin. Lynn grabbed a damp cloth and wiped it away. Luan tucked her chin against her chest and squeezed her eyes shut; when she started to cry, Lynn flashed. "Suck it up." She slapped the cloth against the floor and balled her hands into fists, fury wafting through her like dragon's breath. She needed Luan to be strong, to be part of the team...she needed help and support. She couldn't do this alone.

In the firelight, darkness nestled upon Luan's features, and her tears sparkled like liquid diamonds. Lynn drew a deep breath through her teeth and glanced toward the front of the restaurant, where Lincoln stood by a window, the table cloth drawn back just enough to allow him a line of sight. He wore tan cargo pants with a dozen pockets, an olive green T-shirt, and a black vest - every time she saw him from the corner of her eye, she mistook him for someone else, someone older and harder than the brother she knew. She was sure he mistook her for someone else too - worry lines creased her face, especially around her mouth and eyes. She was sixteen but looked forty. Luan wasn't much better - she was seventeen but could pass for a hard thirty-eight.

She sighed and looked at Lisa - her jaw was clenched in pain and veins stood out on her neck. More blood seeped through the bandage, but there was little they could do at this point. End of the line. Heh. All of Lisa's life, her accomplishments, the things she worked for, the things she did and loved all lead to a dead end in some roadside rib joint in a podunk fucking town no one had ever heard of or cared about. This was it - for Lisa, nothing existed past this point. Not marriage, not children, not a successful career, not growing up. Lynn took a deep shuddery breath and glanced at Lincoln, who stood with his back to her, staring out into the night and seeing nothing.

"Lynn…" Lisa gasped, and Lynn turned to her. The little genius's face was sunken, already gray with death. Lynn tried to look into her eyes, but the misery she knew she would see would kill her.

She reached out and brushed the back of her hand across Lisa's cheek. "Shhh," she said, "y-you need your rest."

Lisa swallowed thickly and winced as a muscle spasm hit. Rigor mortis had been settling into her joints for three days now, and even the slightest movement set every neverending in her body afire with agony. "I'm going…" she panted, "...I'm going to attempt.." she turned her head to Lynn and moaned at the effort. "I'm going to try and...and not come back."

Lynn darted her eyes away and bore down hard on her teeth.

"I'm going to try...don't do it until you know."

Without looking at her, Lynn nodded. "I will," she whispered.

From there, Lisa lapsed into silence, her breathing slowing. She dropped into sleep, and Lincoln came back over. "There's nothing out there." He glanced at Lisa then quickly away.

"Alright," Lynn said.

Hanging his head, he went toward the back, disappearing into the kitchen.

At just after 10pm, Lisa's breathing quickened, and she came awale thrashing, her eyes distant and fever-scorched. Lynn took her hand and held it tight as she writhed, her chest blasting, her mouth opening and closing. A gurgle rose from her now plgem clogged throat, and when Lynn broke and looked into her eyes, they were filled with panic. Luan looked away and hugged herself; Lincoln came in from the kitchen, where he'd been for nearly an hour, and dragged himself over, shoulders slumped and head hung. Lynn met his gaze, and she smiled wanly. Thank you..for being here. He returned it. You're welcome. He knelt next to Luan and took Lisa's other hand, hitherto thrashing like runaway firehose. She clawed desperately at him, perhaps in search of salvation, but there was none. She trembled, coughed up more bloody mucus, then issued a long, low death rattle that Lynn knew she would hear in her sleep for weeks to come.

Luan broke down crying, and Lincoln fisted his hand to his mouth. Lynn simply let go of her sister's hand and drew the sheet over her head; it molded to her sharp profile, and for some reason, that struck Lynn as more gruesome than just leaving her uncovered.

She looked at Lincoln. "Help me with her."

Between them, they carried her through the kitchen and into the walk-in freezer, hot and rank since the power cut out at the end of June. They laid her out, and Lincoln sat a lantern on the floor then looked at Lynn with a raised brow. "I'm gonna wait," she said, "go take care of Luan."

Lincoln shot an uneasy glance at Lisa's body and hesitated.

"I got her," Lynn assured him.

He reluctantly nodded. "Alright." He turned, hesitated, then left. Lynn pulled the door closed behind her and sat heavily on the floor, her knees drawing to her chest. When Lisa came back - if she came back - she didn't want Lincoln and Luan seeing her do what she promised Lisa she would.

Resting her arms on her knees, she stared at her sister, her heart pounding. Please don't come back, she thought, I don't want to do this, Lise.

She remembered Leni sobbing as she lay on the floor of a supermarket in Ohio, her stomach ripped open and her entrails hanging out. It hurts so bad, she hitched, make it stop. There was only one way, and she couldn't do it - she froze and just stood there like a statue. Lisa finally did it for her, filling a syringe with a lethal dose of morphine and sinking it into her vein. This will make it stop, she said with cold, clinical detachment...a detachment that she did not really feel, if the nightmares were anything to go by.

Before that it was Luna and Lucy. She never told the others, but as they pulled away, the living dead surrounding the Bronco and clambering to get in, she looked in the rearview mirror and saw their faces pressed to the window, both twisted in horror. Then Lucy disappeared as if dragged away, followed by Luna.

In her dreams, they came back for her, their eyes dark and soulless. You left us, Luna said in a raspy cemetery voice.

I'm sorry, Lynn said in tears, I had to.

You left us to die, Lucy added, now we're going to kill you like they killed us.

When she woke, she was always panting and covered in sweat, and for a long time afterward, the spine tingling sensation of their presence lingered, and though she laughed at the concept of souls and God and anything else (but teeth), as she lay on her side with her gun in her hand, she could believe that their spirits were watching over her...hating her...straining to rip through the vail that once separated life from death.

They were out there. All of them. Leni, Lori. Lucy, Luna, somewhere right this very moment walking the earth, and if they retained memory the way Lisa hypothesized they did, they might be coming this way, following the path they had in life, slowly but inexorably shuffling east, and if they didn't rot on the way, one night Lynn would wake to find them standing over her..staring...grinning...reaching.

Across the room, the sheet covering Lisa twitched, and Lynn's breath caught in her throat. For a moment, it didn't come again and she was beginning to believe (hope) that it was her imagination, but Lisa's foot noticeably moved. Lynn watched, frozen, as the little girl's head moved slowly back and forth, the creases of the sheet pooled with shadows.

Stiffly, ponderously, she sat stiffly up like Dracula rising from his coffin. Tears filled Lynn's eyes and she took a deep, calming breath. Moving as woodenly as her sister, she unsnapped the holster and drew the Desert Eagle - it was heavy in her hand, far heavier than it had ever been before, and slimy too, like a living thing - an eel, maybe, an evil, murderous eel thirsty for blood.

The sheet fell from Lisa's face - her eyes bulged from their sockets, sickly and yellow, her bluish lips pressed tightly together. She swept the room with her undead gaze, and when it fell on Lynn, she opened her mouth - her teeth stood out prominently from her shrunken gums, and her pale tongue flicked like a hungry snake. Lynn pointed the gun at Lisa's hand, her left palm cupping her right. Tears trickled down her cheeks and her stomach knotted.

Lisa let out a low moan like November wind and started to get to her feet. Lynn pushed out all the memories she'd made with her little sister, all the times she teased her and hugged her and took her for granted and helped her and everything else...she pushed out the memory of her as a newborn, and as a toddler. She emptied her mind of it all.

And pulled the trigger.

There are numerous references to zombie movies, novels, media, etc in this story. There were a couple in this chapter alone. Ten points for each one you can spot. Also...I love how this website fucks my formatting up sometimes, like with the song quote in the beginning. I tried added spaces between the two separate verses and the band name at the bottom, but FFN would not let me, so it looks like shit.