Now, call her crazy.

But she nearly jumped out of her seat to grab a gun the minute she read on the news:

"New unknown desease spreads throughout nation, reports seen of the sick with highly contagous matters- Paling in the skin, high fevers, eyes growing lighter in all colours, teeth decaying/growing sharper, as for fingernails and toenails. Military suggestions: 'Report unusual behavior. Barricade your homes. Avoid all contact with infected indivituals. Wait for official instructions.'"

Paranoid and slightly anxious, if she knew one thing from watching horror films every night instead of studying, she knew that 'infected indivituals', in her logic, meant zombies.

"Dad, what guns do you have?" She'd asked at the dinner table one night.

"Zoey, since when did you get into guns all of a sudden?" Her father responded with a question of his own, setting his fork down.

"Yeah, you've been acting funny since first reports on this new virus going around." Her mother added.

"Well, you've always wanted me to be a cop, right dad?" She asked, turning to him after a glance to her other elder.

Her dad nearly choaked on the food he was about to swallow, and wiped his mouth, still struggling a bit to catch his breath after repeative coughing. "A cop? Yes, but you never agreed."

"I thought going to the shooting rank would be kind of.. fun?" Zoey tried again.

After a long, long pause, her father gave in. "Okay. Fine. You want to learn how to shoot a pistol or the heavier guns?"

"Heavier." Like in the movies.

"Alright. We'll head out tommorrow."

"Like this?" Zoey laughed, squinting one eye and aiming at a closer target.

"No- You have to- like- keep your arms straight-" Her father was laughing too hard.

Aiming drove her crazy. In the movies and video games, they didn't stop and take forever to take the damn saftey off, line up their coordinates, keep a straight line in their arms, and shoot.

In here, it took ten times as long. How is she going to tell a zombie to wait for her to get ready before she can shoot them?

"Zoey you have to-"

Bang.

A gunshot went off and smoke puffed around Zoey's training pistol; a hole dead center in the target.

She aimed at another target.

Bang.

Two more.

Bang, Bang.

Her face was suddenly serious. She aimed for another and shot once, twice, and a dead click the third time told her that her clip was empty.

In the center of her new target where two holes on top of each other, proving to her father she can shoot fine.

"Where'd you learn to shoot like that?"

"Would you think I'm crazy?" She asked suddenly, not taking her eyes off of her pistol as she reloaded it.

Her father was caught off gaurd at the off-topic question, but answered nonetheless.

"... If...?"

"If I believed there's more to the flu than just being sick?"

"Dephends what you mean. How far would this 'more' thing go?"

Zoey hesitated, pausing after shoving the magazine in and staring at the hand gun for a moment before sighing. "Don't say I'm 'brain-washed' or anything, because then I get to blame you for getting me into horror movies." She chuckled with force.

"But I think the flu is pre-infection to.. to a zombie apocolypse..."

Zoey looked up to find her that dad had paused with an arched eyebrow.

"And why would it happen...?"

"I don't know. Paranoid. But why would their teeth and nails sharpen?"

"I dont-"

"The military suggested to not come in contact with anyone who picked up the flu."

"But, Zoey-"

"They even said to barricade our homes! What kind of sickness would need borded up homes and absolute no encounter with anyone?" Zoey continued, voice getting louder and louder as she worried more, drawing in attention to nearby shooters.

"Zoey, listen to me-"

"And to report unusual behavior? This is rediculous, I just can't-"

"Zoey!" her father finally gained her attention to let him speak.

"Hun, it is weird, and I know it's a strange illness, but you have to believe me when I say that it's just another desease."

Just another desease, huh? Tell that to me when I'm chewing on your brains.

"What about the teeth? Or the nails? Why we'd need to keep our homes locked up? And to not come close to anyone who has it? These symtoms are more than 'just another desease', dad. Hear me out when I say that.. I'm scared." Zoey said on the verdge of tears.

Her father went over and hugged her tightly, Zoey immeadetly gripping onto him and sniffing loudly.

"Even the military and police are invovled in this." she mumbled into his chest.

"...Is this why you want a gun? To be sure?"

"...Yeah..."

"Zoey, even if it did happen, we'd already be out and in the evacuation center before they even lay a finger on my little girl." He said, kissing her on the top of her head, and recieving a muffled chuckle into his chest.

"You want a gun? I'll get you any gun you'd like. Just promise not to shoot me in the ass or anything." He joked, referring to an old paint-ball gun fight the two had in the previous years.

"Thanks, dad. I promise." She said, looking up with teard-stained eyes, but a smile on her face.

"Okay.. let's see what they've said this time." Zoey said to herself quietly as she flicked on the tv and switched channels to the news, jumping onto the couch to lay on her stomach.

"-Spreading even further down south. These victims of the infection are being treated in quarantine lock-down, as doctors and police try to figure out what exactly, has caused the virus." A brunette spoke to the screen, along with her co-host, who took a breath to speak.

"Yknow, Juiliet, I heard that there were rumors spreading around on how the Green Flu started-"

Zoey's heart sank, and she dropped the remote with a frown curling on her face. Green Flu?

"-Saying that there was an infectionous bug somehow getting inside and spreading viruses throughout the body."

"Ron, did they say anything about the evacuation centers?" The brunette asked, and Zoey all but collapsed, her face falling into wide eyes and an agape mouth.

"Oh yes." He said, straightening some papers to look at them and read aloud. "There will be evacuation centers located in: The Vannah, South Meadows Parkway, Town Mall-"

Zoey clicked the tv off and ran downstairs.

"Dad! Dad!"

There was shuffling around at the foot of the stairs, and what Zoey saw when she turned the corner nearly broke her heart. Her mother was in tears.

"Honey, I'm running the worst of fevers, and I need a rag. Can you get one for me?"

Zoey began trembling, nodding and pulling her eyes away from the pale woman to rush upstairs and grab a dishcloth from the family bathroom.

Her mind raced as she climbed the stairs.

'Paling in the skin, high fevers, eyes growing lighter in all colours...'

Her mother was pale. And had a fever. Her eyes.. They looked different, but Zoey hadn't been able to debate about it for long. Before she knew it, she was running down the stairs again, not even concidering grabbing the damp cloth as she heard her father yelling for help.

"Help! Get her off me! Maria! Please...! Stop it- OW! MARIA STOP IT!"

"DAD!" Zoey yelled, already knowing the worst of the worse.

Maria was scrambling on top of her father, and he was pushing and pulling for his life to be spared from being eaten by a zombie.

"Zoey! Grab my gun and shoot her!"

"Shoot her-?"

"NOW!"

Zoey dashed around the corner and went to the counter to grab a desert eagle, fiddling with the handle as she ran back to shoot her mother.

Shoot her mother.

"I'm.. I'm sorry..." She aimed to shoot, but didn't have the heart. She rushed over and shoved her mother off before she could do anymore serious damage to the wounded man.

Hurt, but still consious, her father got up and yelled.

"Why didn't you shoot her?" He asked loudly as Maria stumbled around, looking from Zoey to his wife.

"I.. I can't!"

He immeadetly grabbed the gun and clicked the saftey off. "Sorry, darling, it's for your own good." He mumbled with tears as he shot her in the chest, on her upper left side.

Right on the heart.

Love hurts, what a joke.

"Zoey.. Zoey I need.."

"Dad?" Her eyes widened as he gripped onto his arm, not having the heart to show her daughter the bite marks.

"..I need you to shoot me."

"What? Dad you know I couldn't shoot mom, how am I supposed to shoot you-?"

"Would you rather me turn into one of them," He said with a nod to the front door and continued. "and eat you alive?"

Zoey started crying. She sniffled, and shook her head.

"Then..."

Zoey nodded as she slowly took the gun with trembling fingers, placing her forefinger on the trigger hesitantly.

"Dad.. I love you as much as you love me. And I.. I'm so sorry." She whispered.

He stood there with a worn look, tears in his eyes and still clutching his arm, leaning onto his only leg that didn't hurt.

"I love you too, Zoey." He took a deep breath, and closed his eyes as Zoey took aim.

"I love you." She repeated with a broken whisper, and a shot rang through the air.

"Fuck off." She muttered to an infected who had chosen her for a snack, shoving him away and shooting him in the middle of his head with a hunting rifle.

"...Ten points for me.." She said half-heartedly as she wandered the quiet street, looking around for any sign of a safehouse.

The evacuation centers had been over-filled with so many desparate people, that the military could only squeeze in so much. They'd set up more evac ships and helicopters, the last of them all.

As figured, there would be survivors who didn't make it, like Zoey, so the military'd set up safehouses. So far, as she knew it, Zoey was the only one left.

Except for the occasional zombies to come rushing towards her to keep her 'company.'

Zoey looked at her path ahead through her scope, and plucked off stragglers to keep her occupied for the moment.

Suddenly, an unnatural screetch split through the dead, silent air, and Zoey immeadetly looked away from the scope to search her surroundings.

She wanted to call out, ask if anyone was there, but she knew she'd only draw unwanted attention to her, and it'd be pointless.

She took one causious step, and with sudden weight pinning her down, she knew it'd be her last.

"Ahh! Help! Anyone! Get it off!" Zoey yelled, attemping to push off the hooded figure that prepared to claw into her.

She knew the chances of survivaling against infected that were mutating in their special way was low, but she still tried. She did want to live, after all.

There was a figure running towards her, and she saw him in the corner of her eye. She figured it'd be another common to assist to the hooded creature, kicking and clawing, biting and punching while leaving buises and scratches.

There was a shot of a gun.

The weight was lifted off of her.

But...She didn't do anything.

Author's notes: Okay, I didn't want to. But I came back from the dead out of guilt. Aaaaaand I deleted all my old stories because I got sick of looking at constant yaoi over and over and over and over, and not being able to finish a story... SO. I'm starting fresh, with a friendship story, no slashes. Mah new goal is to complete a story for once in my life outside of Reading class! (Aside of that old story, Confessions; You old fans know about it :D)

Please no fire,

toodles! -freaky