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one year before.
Mia used memories to distract her from the world. Now the world was taking away her memories. The life she had before was slipping away, between her fingers, vanished in the wind. Now, the knot thing she could think of was her father and sister. What used to be them. She couldn't stop smelling the sickening odor of blood. Their blood. Couldn't stop hearing the sound of tearing flesh. The moans of the undead. She was no longer Amelia Jones, the girl from Texas. She was Mia. Fourteen years old. Girl who lived in the woods. Girl who's life completely changed for the worse.
But she still had Lucas.
She spent a year in agony. Her innocence was washed away. Stripped from her body. She spent most nights awake, eyes glued to the sky, while Lucas slept. She didn't sleep as she was afraid of the nightmares that would come. Lucas didn't deserve to die from her stupid decisions. He was the one keeping them alive.
Her skin was slathered with Earth. Dirt, blood, sweat, grime. Her hair was tangled. Brown curls that barely reached her shoulders. For almost two years, Mia had yet to see herself. She was nearing the age of fourteen, however long that would be. But she figured her growing chest was a sign that she had become a teenager.
Lucas's voice had dropped sometime in the year they spent on the move. He was growing taller. Their father was tall. He surely would be, too. He's seen things over the long year. Done things no kid his age should have to do. It latched itself onto his skin, slathering itself on him like the dirt and blood he'd never be able to wash away. It made him grow up. The world was becoming cold but he wouldn't turn cold. He had a sister to take care of.
Lucas did his best to keep Mia from falling off the deep end. But he could only do so much. They were running low of supplies. Food. Water. He did everything he could to find anything local. To keep her spirits up. But Mia was afraid and he didn't blame her. They were just kids.
Mia followed behind Lucas, her feet dragging against the hot pavement road. It was always hot. Day and night. Even when the sun went away, the heat stayed. Sweat dripped from her forehead and ran down her face, streaking her dirt covered cheeks. She wiped it away with the sleeve of her torn flannel. Dirt caked under her chewed finger nails. Blood stained her palms. It was a part of her now. Her knife was tucked in the waistband of her pants. Her backpack felt like deadweight on her shoulders. She was deadweight. She felt guilty for dragging Lucas down with her.
"How far do you think the next town is?"
They hadn't spoken in what seemed like hours. Mia flinched. Lucas's voice was raspy and broken. Dry from dehydration. It made her uncomfortable. Since the car crash, her ears had been sensitive. Hearing her own voice made her want to cry. It scared Mia when he actually spoke. "I'm not sure."
