BEYOND THE DEAD ZONE | COMPLETE

One |

One |

I was born into a dead world.

My mom has told me little about how the world ended, instead she tells me of so many stories about how humanity fought back against an evil that tried to kill us. She writes about it too, stories of her friends, of how she changed this island and established the supply routes. Sometimes I don't believe her, I see her as the hotheaded mom that snaps when I don't do my dishes. Then I see her at work, and I see how much people respect her. This entire island is ready to obey every order from her, the council titles her their leader and when there's problems she is the first one to fix everything.

"Everything except me," I muttered softly.

The sand was soft against my back, my hand stretched out towards the clouded sky as soft drops of rain fell on top of me. It was calm. Despite the cold of the wind, and despite how much anger had filled my heart. My eyes closed, and I pushed back the tears that brimmed. My mom couldn't understand why I was so angry at her and that just made me hurt even more. After all that we've gone through, after what happened to Rose—

"Bunny," the familiar accented deep voice sighed.

My eyes opened and the familiar blood red eyes of my dad stared down at me. All anger melted away as I sat up, the tears I held back began to bubble and I felt like I was five again. It was silly, I had turned eighteen a week ago and yet here I was acting like a baby. I stood slowly, wiping my face hard enough my sweater scraped against my skin.

"Fighting with mom again?" he chuckled.

I kicked at the sand, "I-It's not fair. She's not being fair."

"Walk with me," he sighed, readjusting his zombie-proof vest.

Curiously I did, tugging along beside him as we walked up the beach and towards the town. Around us, people squealed at the rain, running to get out of it. Shops moved to take items inside, and windows began to close. The rain always seemed to sneak in from nowhere, but that's how it had always been, or so my dad told me. He said it was because we lived on the island, so the weather was more unpredictable.

"I want to go on a supply run," I said to him.

He nodded patiently, "I know."

"And she won't let me!" my voice sputtered, anger leaking from my throat, "I'm eighteen now, I'm not a child, I can make my own decisions. I've trained harder than any other officer, I know more about herbs and survival than even Ben, and I can kill a grown ass man with a fucking—"

"Language," he scolded but didn't stop my rant.

I sighed deeply, "You know I'm capable, so why can't she?"

He stopped walking, thunder in the distance, "Eero, you know she thinks the world of you, Mira thinks you're the more capable than even me or her. But she doesn't think you're ready for the world outside the island, and you have to trust her judgement."

I groaned pulling at my light brown locks, "I feel like one of Farris' birds. She said when I'm eighteen I can go on supply runs but I'm eighteen now and she won't let me. She's a liar."

He snickered at that, "Bunny, you just turned eighteen, give it time."

"When mom was eighteen she was skimming squirrels and killing zombies," muttering, I started walking back down the street, "I'm not even allowed to go for a walk without her sending you along to make sure I'm not fu—freaking swimming across the way into the fallen city."

"When your mom was eighteen she was alone living off squirrel meat fighting for her life every day for years of solitude."

I opened my mouth, my face burning.