Picture to the right is Archer
I put the pencil down and lean back against the wall in the dirty shed beside the shack-like thing my team is hiding out in. When I took on this project I didn’t know how exhausting it would be. Reliving these moments hurts more than I expected. I thought that this would be easy, writing what’s been happening, but it’s not. It’s one of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to do, and that’s coming from a girl who fights zombies usually on a daily basis. I read over what I wrote and consider ripping out the part about Sebastian. I put my hand on the page, ready to tear it, but my fingers won’t move. It’s like tearing out this paper will be getting rid of the last part of Sebastian that I have. My eyes start to burn. I shut them tightly and pretend I am by the sea hearing the crash of the waves to lull me into the abyss instead of in an old warehouse that smells damp and musty.
“Hola señorita!” someone says in an awful fake Mexican accent as they poke my forehead right between my eyes.
Another hand peels back one of my eyelids. “Yup! She’s still alive!”
“Go away!” I complain. I draw my knees closer and bury my head between them.
“Feisty!” the first voice laughs.
“Time to get up!”
“Noooooo!” I whine.
“No? Need some help then, lass?”
Before I can protest further, I am scooped up, one hand under my knees the other supporting my head, and swung around.
“Archer Jackson Reid, I swear if you don’t put me down this instant I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” he grins as he stops spinning. He seems perfectly fine whereas I feel as if I’m about to empty the meagre contents of my stomach.
“Put. Me. Down,” I repeat not even bothering to answer his question.
He places me on my feet and steps back still smiling. His twin sister, Tamsyn, the other culprit, appears at his side. It’s comical to see the two together. Archie is about a foot and a half taller than Tam and being in this tiny shelter with a low roof, he has to duck just to stand upright. They both have pale blond hair in similar spiky styles. I have no idea where they get their gel. I guess when we raid cleared towns for supplies they head to a hair salon or something for their products while the rest of us gather whatever useful supplies and food we can.
“Come on Boss, we’re just trying to lighten the mood,” Arch explains.
“Yea, everyone is so doom and gloom all the time. It’s rather nauseating. I mean, yea, we are in the middle of a war of humans versus zombies and just before this war started there was one of human against human, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have a good time every now and then, right? I mean, look how far we’ve made it.” Tammy adds.
“Exactly! We’re still alive! That’s something to celebrate, isn’t it?” Archer looks to his sister.
“YES! You’re a genius! We could celebrate it once a month!” Tam agrees. “Motivation to last another thirty days out here.”
Archer laughs. “Whatcha think Boss? You always know what day it is because of that handy-dandy diary of yours,” Arch flaps his hands around in an action I think is supposed to symbolize a book.