The sun was barely peeking over the rooftops when Emily tied her hair into a messy knot. Eighteen wasn't supposed to feel like this—eyes heavy, hands trembling, and the weight of someone else's life on her shoulders.
Her little sister, Sophie, was only six. She sat at the kitchen table, swinging her legs, drawing a picture of their mom. The crayons scattered across the wood looked too bright for a world that had started to feel so dark.
"Eat your cereal," Emily urged, forcing her voice to stay calm. She didn't want Sophie to see how much her hands shook. Outside, the distant sound of sirens never stopped anymore.
It had started small—strange news stories about people biting each other, hospitals overflowing.
Their mom had gone to work at the hospital three days ago and hadn't come back. Dad… was out of the picture years ago. So it was just them now.
The TV in the living room hissed with static before a reporter's trembling voice broke through:
> "Citizens are advised to stay indoors. The infected—"
Emily shut it off. Sophie didn't need to hear that.
Then came the knock.
It wasn't polite. It was frantic
Emily froze. Sophie looked up, wide-eyed.
"Maybe it's Mom!" Sophie whispered, hope blooming in her voice.
Emily wanted to believe that, but her gut twisted. She grabbed the old baseball bat from the hallway—Dad's from when he used to take them to the park—and moved to the door.
Through the peephole, she saw Mrs. Carter from next door… or what was left of her. Her skin was gray, lips torn, eyes empty like she'd forgotten what it was to be human. Blood smeared her nightgown.
Emily stepped back, heart hammering.
Sophie had already padded over, standing behind her.
"Why's Mrs. Carter banging on our door like that?"
The banging grew louder. A wet, animal growl rattled through the wood.
Emily's voice cracked. "Sophie, go get your backpack. The one with the bunny on it. Now." The little girl's eyes filled with tears, but she obeyed.
Emily stared at the door. She didn't know where they were going. She didn't know if Mom was still alive. But she knew one thing—if they stayed here, they'd die.
When Sophie came back, clutching her stuffed bunny tight, Emily took her hand.
They stepped out the back door into the cold morning air. Behind them, the front door rattled under Mrs. Carter's blows. Somewhere in the distance, a car alarm wailed. The world was starting to fall apart.
Emily tightened her grip on Sophie's small hand and whispered,
"From now on, it's just you and me."
And together, they ran.