"Fuck. You haven't even looked for her." It's no less a growl as he stalks past me to go look himself.

I follow him. "What the fuck is your problem?"

"You ever think that some things just aren't your business?"

Rubbing the back of my neck, I'm kind of shocked at the vehemence coming from him even though I know what it is. Rudy is the most laid-back guy I've ever known. "Well, no. Not really."

The glare he shoots me could turn someone to stone. "This isn't." That's all he says about it as we ask around for Kan. My heart sinks lower, and Rudy is looking more worried by the minute. Turns out, no one has seen her since she shot Zombie Lucy last night. Except Rudy and I.

Rudy stops to lean against a wall with his hands on his knees, breathing heavier.

When he looks up, he's pale like he'll throw up. "Something bad happened," he says, his earlier attitude dust in the wind. Anger and irritation snakes its way through my limbs.

"No, it didn't. She left. I told her about Julie." His glare returns with a vengeance as his face twists. For a minute I think he'll say something, but he pushes away from the wall in a hurry through the courtyard.

He throws, "I know," over his shoulder. When I catch up to him, he continues, "Why would you think Julie has anything to do with her missing?"

I cut him a sideways look, "I know you're not that dense."

Stopping, he turns to face me, crossing his arms. "What you're implying is dead wrong. I know Kan, and she wouldn't leave the team like this. She's mad at the omission, not the context. So this is what we're going to do. Look for her because she would do the same. We can start at her house. You and Reece know where it is. Then if she's not there, we'll go to those fucks that held us up and shot you in the ass in the middle of downtown. They could have followed us back."

That throws me for a loop, but only for a second. I almost laugh-Kan wouldn't go back to that house. She knows we'd look for her there. Plus, he didn't see the flare of devastation on her face when I told her about Julie. There's no doubt in my mind she left on her own. "I doubt she'd be with the weird mongrels because according to Kan's description, those guys were from the base. So no, it would be a waste to look for her. Just because you're feeling guilty for not telling her...all because of some infantile hang-up of being alone. We need to continue with the base mission."

Something sparks in his eyes. "The fuck we are."

His fist flashes, splintering pain through my nose as blood spurts out. Sucking air through my nose, blood goes straight to my throat and I taste it. I raise my hand to wipe blood off. "Did you just sucker punch me?" Fuck him, now my nasally voice matches my height.

A smug smile touches his lips. "Bringing up a childhood complex is a low blow, even for you."

My body heats up and releases adrenaline in my veins. I'll show him low blow. I aim my fist at a rib that gets bruised all the time, he releases a grunt and the next thing I know, both of our fists are flying. I get a good one in his eye. Yells commence from the parking lot, but it doesn't stop us. Pain hits my cheek and dots burst in front of my eyes. Somehow we end up on the ground with Rudy holding me down as Reece and John try to pull him off. I keep aiming for that rib and Rudy uses his knee to hit me in the jaw causing my head to snap sideways and agony slices up my jaw.

"God dammit!" I manage. Sam and Ty help Reece and John. They finally get him to stop struggling, and I jump up, running my hands through my hair to get debris out of the curls. Rudy has blood flowing from his lip and his eyebrow is split again with some of his hair stuck in it. He looks at me knowing I have more to give if I really wanted to hurt him. I guess we both needed to let off a little steam. I glare at all of them and stalk off.

Then....

I hurried down the tree-canopied sidewalk. Even as cold as it was, children played and laughed in all directions. It all seemed heightened than the last time I was here at the base, but I'm only here for a minute. Smoke from one of Guido's homemade cigarettes flowed from my mouth. Rudy didn't know about the revolutionists. It's not common knowledge. So I had to tread carefully with what I'd say. I'd go under pretense of his recruitment.

Bursting through the door, Rudy startled but kept playing his guitar. Poindexter was perched beside him on the arm of the chair, did a cat stretch and hopped off. "I can only stay a minute."

Rudy looked up, noticing my cigarette and set his guitar to the side. "What's wrong?"

"Did they talk to you?"

He smiled, "Yeah, but I think they tossed the idea when I said, 'When do I get a gun to play with?'"

I laughed. "No shit?"

He shook his head, "Nah, man. Haven't heard a word."

Sitting on the couch, I said, "Listen, if they say anything, just bail. If anything bad happens at all, fucking bail. Use the spot we use when we loot. And go here. It's the community. Follow the famished." I handed him a sheet of paper.

"You seem to think something will happen."

I didn't hesitate. "I've just been thinking, we should have a back-up plan, you know? Something you need to have anyway."

"Sure. Thanks. Might go anyway. I wasn't in my graduate studies to fix fucking toilets."

"I'll trade with you." I joked.

After that, the base was infiltrated as suspected. The sheer number of them overpowered our soldiers. It wasn't a good sign. Less than a week later, Rudy showed up at the community.

Now....

I'm a fuck up, but everyone thinks they are in some way, shape, or form. I've been in my old bed for days contemplating the meaning of life. Not really, just the meaning of the empty jars of moonshine sitting on my old desk and why someone would loot an old folded American flag in a glass case. It was gone. I should have grabbed it when I had the chance.

I roll over and get a whiff of my own body odor and immediately sit up, figuring I've wallowed enough. Time to go find somewhere to clean myself up, and head to Birmingham to get my ass lashed for going MIA.

I hop down the stairs and turn into the kitchen when I see it. On the refrigerator is a note written in Sharpie. The words alive, safe, and the date stick out the most, a year after the outbreak. I can barely see through the water in my eyes and have to hold myself up against the fridge.

I don't realize how much time has passed until my lieutenant asked me where I've been for the past week and a half.

The worst thing that happens though is when I'm sent in to see the general. General Stevenson. He throws some grainy pictures on top of the table. I look at them and my stomach sinks, but irrational anger takes hold. Rudy and Reece stand over Kan, and from the looks of it, she's naked and covering herself up.

"This young man." His finger lands on Rudy. "According to you, is supposed to be dead." I swallow. This is what happens when you try and protect people. When you care. "And just who might this young lady be?" He asks as his finger lands on Kan.

Thank god I can talk myself out of anything.

It takes about twelve hours for me to track down Rudy without being seen. I'm watching famished bite and claw at a new fence being put up around the community's parking lot when Rudy appears. He hops in the driver's side door of his truck with me sitting in the passenger seat and startles when he sees me. "Shit, Mac. Where the fuck have you been?"

He doesn't look well. A beard covers his face and tension thickens the air around him as he stares at me. Ignoring his question, I ask, "What happened?"

I expected him to grip the wheel, clench his jaw, or stare out the window, but he does none of that. He only looks down into his lap with slumped shoulders, almost like he doesn't want to talk about it. The words that come out of his mouth leave me hating myself more than ever.

Jen Wilde For my husband, Mike, who loves zombies.

Thank you for your never-ending support, love and enthusiasm and for showing me that zombies are awesome.

This is for you.

Prologue.

We all looked at each other, eyes wide in shock, struggling to believe what we saw.

For anyone still in Sydney or Melbourne who are uninfected, you are urged to stay inside and lock your doors and windows. The infected have become severely deranged and extremely violent. We have received countless reports of the infected biting and even killing anyone they come across, including their loved ones. Do not approach the infected. I repeat; do not approach the infected. If you have been bitten, you are requested to go to the nearest hospital or medical centre for treatment as soon as possible.

More footage of the streets was shown then, this time of the infected. Their eyes were an eerie white, skin grey and spattered with blood, their faces and arms covered in open wounds and lesions.

"Zombies," whispered Ben, staring slack-jawed at the screen.

"Oh come on, Ben," Jo scoffed, putting her hands on her hips. "The media always over dramatises things. I doubt it's that serious."

"You haven't seen the guy just outside the door," Ben replied.

"We need to get rid of him. He's infected. He's been bitten, and he's starting to look just like them," I said, motioning to the infected people on the screen.

My stomach turned as I heard the sound of the bell ringing as the door of the diner opened, and slowly shut again.

"I hope that was him leaving," I whispered as I unlocked the door and slid it open an inch.

I peered through the gap, but could still see the infected man trying to pull himself up onto the counter. "He's still there."

"That means another one just walked in," Wyatt said as he switched off the television and stood close behind me. Any other day I would have shivered in his close presence, but right now we stood on the edge of the end of the world, and we had to survive.

I heard a loud groan and someone, something, shuffling through the diner, edging closer to the four of us hiding in the tiny office. I held my breath, trying desperately to stay quiet. Slowly, I began sliding the door closed, but it was too late. A rancid, decomposing face appeared on the other side of the entryway, its dilated pupils burning into me in desire.

I screamed, almost knocking Wyatt over as I jumped back into him. It let out a terrifying screech as it crammed a long, freshly mauled arm through the opening in the door.

The putrid smell of day old rotting flesh filled the room as its maggot infested hand swiped at me frantically. The mere sight of it filled my stomach with bile, but I knew I had to focus on keeping us alive.

I threw myself forward against the door, pushing it sideways as hard as I could. Wyatt leant over me onto the door, helping me slam it into the infected arm. Ben tried to grab it and push it back onto the other side of the door, but it was swinging wildly, its yellow fingernails covered in dried blood. Jo backed herself up against the far wall, screaming in fear.

I put all my weight against the door and together Wyatt and I forced it closed, and by the sound of the sickening crack I knew we had broken the bone, but the possessed arm didn't stop. Instead, it kept waving around, only now it couldn't grab us. Ben pushed the shattered arm back through the door and we slammed it shut, locking it fast.

For a moment, everything fell silent. I leaned off of the door and tried to catch my breath. I could feel my entire body trembling. My heart pounded so hard I thought it would explode.

I could hear it, the infected monster, groaning and sniffing at the other side of the door. The groan turned into a loud growl, and it furiously rammed itself into the door. Ben and Wyatt threw themselves against it to stop it from breaking in.

"What do we do?" I asked, my legs feeling so unstable I thought I would collapse.

No-one answered.

I leaned my arms against the door again, helping Ben and Wyatt keep it closed, while Jo slid down onto the floor, her knees up against her chest as tears streamed down her face.

Over the growling I heard the bell ring again.

Another one had come for us. All that stood between us and these mindless creatures with an insatiable hunger for human flesh was a thin sliding door.

We were trapped.

Chapter One.

The setting sun glimmered through the window, veiling my bedroom with a golden glow. Outside I heard the sounds of Friday night traffic, people either making their way home from work or heading out to celebrate the arrival of the weekend.

Even though I lived on one of the busiest streets in Melbourne, I never took much notice of the noise. The trams, the cars, the people, the constant sounds of the city; I found it comforting. It meant I wasn't as alone as I sometimes felt. I had expected to eventually adjust to living on my own, but something about it never felt right to me. More than anything, I hated having no-one to come home to.

Leaning over my dresser, I looked closely at my reflection in the bedroom mirror, concentrating as I slowly glided my black pencil liner over the outer corner of my eye.

Turning my head left, then right, I made sure I had mastered the cat eye look perfectly, when I heard a knock on my apartment door.

"Be right there, Jo!"

It never takes me long to get ready, all I need are my favourite pair of jeans, a singlet, my motorcycle boots, eyeliner and sometimes a brightly coloured scarf, and I'm ready to go.

It's the middle of Spring, and while the top half of the world is getting colder, Melbourne is getting deliciously warm, so I opted for a black singlet and magenta scarf to go with my standard jeans and boots tonight.

Standing back to take one last look, I smiled cheerfully a kindness I always gave to myself when I saw my reflection. I let my long, dark brown hair hang down, its ends tipped with turquoise. My deep hazel eyes are overshadowed by my long dark lashes and arched eyebrows that would make me look serious, if I didn't smile so often. My lips, thin and asymmetrical, are not the typical full lips that so many women want and men lust after, but they are exactly like my mother's, and that's why I love them. Sometimes, if I squint hard enough while I smile in the mirror, I can almost see my mother smiling back at me. Wrapping my scarf loosely around my neck, I picked up my faded brown satchel from the bed and headed for the door.

Jo, my dearest friend, and I were going to the local bar to have a few drinks and see Wyatt and his band perform.

I could feel the butterflies start to come alive in my stomach, a sensation I always felt around Wyatt. I couldn't help but smile again at the thought of him. Pulling my door open, Jo greeted me by standing in model pose, with a hand strategically placed on her hip and her head tilted to the side.