The Walking Dead (One Direction)

Chapter 8

Julia's POV:

I flinch when blood splatters across my face.

The zombie I have just killed crumples to the ground in a heap and its head grotesquely rolls to the side, but I don't have time to linger. I simply have to turn away from the gruesome scene to continue my killing spree.

"Julia, look out!" Dean hollers from my left and I turn just in time to decapitate a charging zombie. Yet again, blood sprays my face and I close my eyes not to be blinded.

"Thanks, man," I manage to choke back before I'm yet again under a violent attack.

The zombies are everywhere. It has to be more than fifty of them. We are greatly outnumbered.

Wherever I turn, the incompatible faces of the walking dead are staring viciously and hungrily back at me. Their rotting flesh and terrible wounds are hauntingly ugly and I feel like retching.

I forcefully swing my machete around and decapitate yet another zombie. His head thuds to the ground milliseconds before his mangled body does, a huge amount of blood staining the green grass.

I turn around to face my next threat and my heart drops all the way to my stomach. "No."

In front of me is a little girl, no more than seven years old. Her tattered hair is long and blonde, and her eyes are big. She must have been beautiful once, but parts of her face appear to have been munched on by a zombie at some point and a huge chunk of her left cheek is missing.

She is staring at me with bloodshot eyes, her head slightly cocked to the side. She seems to be pondering whether to kill me or not, but I know that it's just an act. It doesn't matter that she is just a child, she's one of them and she wants my flesh just as much as the rest of them does.

I readjust my grip on my machete, bracing myself for what I'm about to do. I know that I have to kill her, but the fact that she's merely four feet tall and wears a pink sundress makes the task more than just slightly difficult.

I have killed a fair amount of zombies in my lifetime, but I have never killed a child before. I know that they are all practically the same, but it is surprisingly difficult to bring myself to decapitate the little girl.

To my surprise, my eyes are suddenly moist with unshed tears and I have to swallow past a lump in my throat. I really, really don't want to kill the little girl in front of me.

When she growls at me like the animal she is, I close my eyes for just a millisecond to block out the mental pain I'm currently battling. I try to tell myself that I have to kill her, but I find it impossible to raise my hand to swing my weapon.

I open my eyes and stare at the little girl again. She still isn't attempting to bite me, which I find strange. She has been given plenty of time to charge at me with her poisonous teeth and yet she just stands there.

Suddenly Harry appears behind her, his beautiful face somber. I raise my gaze to meet his emerald eyes. He offers me a sad smile and slowly raises his gun.

He is able to do what I am not, and doesn't even hesitate to pull the trigger.

The girl's head explodes in front of my eyes and she crumples to the ground. I look at her for a second as crimson blood stains her blonde hair and pink sundress.

The girl is lying facedown in the grass, and from my position she almost looks like a human child. The sight makes me nauseous and I have to look away. I quickly return my gaze to Harry's for comfort.

"Thank you," I whisper and he nods, his expression soft and understanding.

For a second I am overwhelmed with subdued emotions and I want to tell Harry everything that I am feeling. I want to tell him that I want him and need him, but this is not the time or place for that kind of confession.