Author's Notes: This is all I remember from falling asleep with my Ipod on. I thought it made a nice story, and if anyone likes it, I may try to add a few more chapters.

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She Dances

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She danced around the room, moving her body and waving her arms like a ballerina she barely remembers. Her eyes were closed, and she was lost in her own little world of make-believe, music blaring loud from the ear-buds in her ears.

Hunter could not tear his eyes away from her, they were glued to her hips but he tried to look away to give her more privacy, however his eyes kept peeking back to her. He was rewarded when her shirt rode an inch high and he was extremely pleased to see that small patch of soft skin around her thin stomach. Those rare glimpses of skin were always appealing to look at.

Rarely, Hunter had got to see any parts of her body other than her face. The human was always completely bundled up in clothes.

That small patch of skin was so scrumptious to look at. He greedily ate up the next time it shown when she lifted her arms high up and back down in beat with the strange music.

She wore a long-sleeved shirt with a high collar. Long-sleeved gloves that ended halfway up her arm. Loose jeans with worker's boots were what she always wore. She mentioned to him once that she did not want to catch a cold with the infection going around, and it would lower her chances of fighting it.

He could not blame her. Travelling with him must have upped her defense.

He tried once to touch her nose with his bare hand, out of spite to see what she would do. She reacted violently, throwing herself back and away from him. She immediately left the room to disinfect her face from his touch. He followed after her, watching her search the next room frantically for that purifying gel she kept in her bag. She had loads of that stinky stuff.

He would have thought this an overreaction to his touch, but the infection was airborne and was able to transfer through body fluids. She was immune to the airborne so far, but didn't know about the latter.

And he was infected.

The other humans called him a Hunter, a smart infected zombie – he still had his upper brain workings. Something went wrong when he mutated from the virus. She was an airborne immune to the infection, and maybe to the body fluids too. A human he had taken up protecting. In this zombie apocalypse, all they had were each other for company and they were not going to complain.

For the last few days, they were stuck in a wooden cabin, off the side of a large highway. It was raining hard and getting colder as autumn was setting in.

He briefly wondered if they should stay here for the winter, but quickly scraped that idea. He hated staying in one place for too long, but the girl didn't. He could see the signs. There were areas in the room where she would personalize it, adding her own touch to everything.

They had to stay on the move, away from hordes of other infected zombies. They were brain-dead and hungry for flesh. There were a small amount of smart zombies like him, that wandered for their next meal; human flesh. He had to protect the girl from them. Signs of life always attracted them. Smoke from the fires, noises, and smells; anything that looked and acted like fresh meat were a target.

He did hunger for fresh meat too, but he substituted that with animals, whatever he could catch. The humans didn't call him the Hunter for nothing. If he couldn't find the animals, he would stomach the human food he provided the girl with. Canned foods from the abandoned stores and markets were all he could scrunch in this day and age.

Which reminded him of checking their food supply-

His mouth fell open when she pulled off the long gloves from her hands, the dancing seem to be making her perspire. He could smell the salt and heat in the air. The room was warm because he had started up the fireplace not long ago. That had to be the only reason she would take those off.

He swallowed hard. He never had seen her hands before. She always had those damn gloves on. He suddenly felt embarrassed that her bare hands made him happier than the patches of skin from her stomach and those delicious dances.

He knew he should not be having these type of feelings. He should have never found that bloody working Ipod. That damn thing was the reason all this started. He had liked her well enough before. He did not desire to see parts of her body at all. Not until she closed her eyes every damn time and swung that skinny malnourished body of hers.

And to think, all he wanted was a pet to amuse himself with, like a toy. Something to occupy his time until he was bored and felt like eating it. It was like playing with his food.

He had found the girl hiding away in a clothing shop. The place was abandoned and ransacked. The clothes were all over the place, walls with grime and the floor was littered with garbage.

He was only there to look for another hoodie to hide his face. His last one was ripped clean off by another infected zombie.

The damn human side of his wanted to keep the girl longer and longer, until the thought of hurting her caused him to feel something weird. Something he did not like feeling. His human side supplied him with the name of that feeling.

Guilt.

He hated that feeling. And how he got it every time he thought something wrong about the girl. Every time he thought of leaving her, eating her, or the worse off, making her cry.

And he did that regularly. Most often, it was because of his callousness, or not assessing the situation faster.

One example was an hour ago. It had been raining, little rumbles of thunder overhead. Only one great hit of thunder that sounded much like a tank, had the brat scrambling to him and hugging his middle in fear. Out of surprise, he had screeched loud and scared the girl into crying hysterically.

That stupid guilt feeling had skyrocketed after that. He didn't know how to console her, and he knew she didn't like to be touched. So he sat there, his presence the only comfort he could provide.

The only real comfort they both could provide was the unspoken promise not to leave the other. Loneliness was the true fear. Being isolated and on your own was scarier than any raging zombies could provide.

So Hunter told himself that he was going keep her for one more day.

He thought that every night, and continued to for the next how many days they were to stay alive in this zombie apocalypse.

Just one more night.

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Thanks for reading and please review.

Summer