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     "Zombie!" I sobbed, letting my voice slash through the air long after we'd left the room

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"Zombie!" I sobbed, letting my voice slash through the air long after we'd left the room. My screams seemed to reach nowhere though, the deafening alarm silencing all opposing sounds.

"Zombie," I cried softer, weaker.

We'd been walking for a while; We'd been turning corners and passing doors for what seemed like ages. All I had gathered was that we were far from Barracks 10 and the hospital room.

"Shut up, girl. He can't hear you anymore. Your prince isn't coming to save you."

The officer's grip on my arm tightened and I grimaced.

"He's going to come," I said.

He'd made the promise to Nugget that he'd come back, and he did. He'd do the same for me, I was sure of it.

"Didn't you hear that shot? He's dead. What's wrong with humans and false hope? We killed your boyfriend Just like we're going to destroy every last one of you pathetic humans. There's no stopping us."

Silent tears rushed down my cheeks as I formulated some kind of response.

Was Zombie dead? He couldn't be. I wouldn't let myself think that way. Pretending would give me hope.  But destroying the rest of the human race? Well there really wasn't much I could hope for; that part was inevitable. If they'd already been able to manipulate us into turning against our own people, they could undoubtedly do anything.

The officer moved faster, yanking my arm to bring me up to speed. I stumbled, crashing into the cold floor. My leg screamed, not for the first time that day.

I bit my lip, trying to prevent the tears that were filling my eyes from pouring out.

The officer grumbled and yanked me up forcefully.

"You humans are so weak," he said, muttering the words as if they were a virus.

Once I was back on my feet, he moved his hand to under my arm so he could support me better. I guess they still had the intent not to kill me. They must have some reason as to why they'd take me and kill Zombie.

Zombie.

No matter what I thought, it somehow seemed to make its way back to him. And the more I thought of him, the harder it was to pretend that everything was ok- that he was alive.

I needed to tell him. I needed to tell him how I felt about him- about how he made me feel when he wound his arms around me or when he'd give me one of those perfect smiles of his.

Thinking about all the things I hadn't said to him made my throat tighten and new, fresh tears cascaded down my cheeks.

The tears of regret were joined with tears of longing and tears of sorrow.

I prayed that he was ok and that I'd have the chance to fix the things I broke with him. I also prayed for Nugget, that someone would find and save him, for the squad, and for all the kids in the base that had no clue what prison they were truly in.

Perish • Ben ParishWhere stories live. Discover now