To Be A Killer

Chapter 4: Last Kiss

Singer picks at the loose thread on her shirt. She's been picking and pulling and now half of her sleeve is gone on her right arm. It's a bad habit, especially since this is the only shirt she has, but she can't seem to be able to stop.

She looks around the warehouse she and the others are currently housing in. Michelle and Katelyn and sleeping in a corner, using an old, raggedy blanket for warmth. Julia, Jessica and Elijah are asleep around some of the food sacks, since there's a chance of someone breaking in to steal it.
And Wesley, Joey and Tori are in the second floor, taking turns on who should take watch up there. It's Singer's turn on keeping watch on the first floor.

That's why she's awake right now.

It's so quiet tonight, which is odd. It seems like every night for the last three weeks she's heard the sounds of growls and moans of the undead from outside. Out here, she's barely heard any.

But right now they're in open country instead of the city. That might have something to do with it. Less noise attracts less zombies. That's what Singer thinks anyway. She wonders if they're even in Virginia anymore. Maybe they crossed off into another state without knowing. That wouldn't be surprising considering how much they've been running.

If she knew where she was, she would've left and set out for somewhere new, away from here-away from these people.

It's been four days since Aunt Connie died. Only four... and it seems like it's been so long ago. But Singer is sure it doesn't feel that way for her cousin. No, of course it doesn't. To them, it must seem like just yesterday.

Since her death, the group has been looking for a town-a settlement that wasn't full of crazies, but they haven't even found another person. Not since that crazy lady and her two sons that are nothing but bone and blood now.

Once they find a group, or figure out where they are, Singer's leaving. She's sure of it. She has to leave. She knows what her mother asked of her, but Katelyn isn't safe around her. No one is. She's a walking bad luck charm.

She looks at her mother and sister, all curled up and shivering under the pathetic piece of cloth, and prays that someone will come to their rescue.

There's a noise from upstairs.

Singer stands, quietly listening. It's voices...

"What the..." She whispers, slowly stepping towards the stairs. Hesitantly, she places one foot on the step.

Silence.

Then another.

More silence. The only sounds are the hushed voices from upstairs.

Step by step she climbs, staying quiet, listening carefully. Goosebumps arise on her arms, and her chest tightens. Something feels wrong.

She grabs the small pocket knife she found a few days ago from her shorts. There shouldn't be more than one voice from upstairs, since only one person is supposed to keep watch while the others sleep. But... Singer recognizes the voices. They're some of the only human voices she's heard for over three weeks.

Tori stands by one of the windows, moonlight casting an almost otherworldly glow on her face and hair. Her eyes are not searching of what's outside; They're just staring at nothing while the two males standing near some supply boxes argue quietly.

Singer crouches low, using the railing to help conceal her.

"I'm just saying it might be best if we went our own way," Joey says.