Harry's P.O.V.
"I did what I had to do." I thought. My ears were still ringing, the image of her head exploding, permanently engrained. I slid the gun back into the holster, walking away without a word. No funeral, no mourning, just moving. Movement is how we stay alive. It's how we survive.
"HARRY YOU JUST SHOT HER! A LITTLE GIRL!" Y/N screamed.
I adjusted the strap of my knapsack, and kept walking. That shot ran out for miles, we needed to get somewhere safe. Y/N pulled at my arm, her hair covered in blood, and her cheeks stained with tears. We'd been through absolute hell. I had done my best to keep her away from them, even with our landlord, she had never seen one that close before.
"HARRY!" She screamed again.
"That was a Walker. That was not a little girl. There was nothing left of her that was a human." I said coldly.
She stared into the pavement, and nodded. I gripped her hand tightly pulling her inside one of the many abandoned buildings. Taking the same path we always followed to return to camp.
"We'll barricade the door, then go up to the roof, like normal alright?" I said, dragging a large desk in front of the entrance.
Cardboard boxes blocking the windows, and another desk flipped on top of the other. A simple system, but effective. No Walkers or people in, and no one out either. The old office building had been used for some medical company, and had been abandoned soon after people had started to become infected. We had already bled the place dry of supplies, not that staples and printer ink was something we had any use for, but its access to the roof made getting from once place to another much simpler. Keeping us out of sight from Walkers. It was now connected to other buildings along the strip. A series of ropes and ladders stretched from building to building.
"Ladies first." she joked, gesturing to the ladder. I scoffed, gripping the ropes so tightly that my knuckles turned white. Y/N following soon after. We crossed with ease, this time, but people fall, and things break. But we have to keep moving. Always keep moving.
____
The end of the world, it was always something you would joke about, or read in shitty horoscopes, but no one could have been prepared for this. The dead, coming back to life and infecting the living. The spread was a tsunami, destroying everything in its path. The military had fallen apart, and police officers were now fighting alongside the rest of us. The rest of us...the ones who had managed not to get infected, the ones who had found some kind of safe haven, the ones who were trying to survive. Y/N and I the only two who had made it out of her apartment complex alive. I'm just happy we got a few supplies beforehand. I found her standing in the hallway calling to our former landlord.
" Hey! Mr.Garcia? Are you alright?" She said.
"Y/N!" I hissed, my heart pounding with every second she was still in the hallway.
She turn and walked towards me. Pointing back down the hall. "What's up with Garcia? He's acting fucking weird."
"We have to get inside. Now." I told her grabbing her arm and pulling her inside.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Harry?" She snapped, tearing her wrist rom my grasp.
"It's been ALL over the news, you haven't heard?" I said pointing to the television.
She walked over and sank into my couch, shaking her head. I could see how badly she wanted to cry, to scream or given up, but looked at me wiping tears from her face and asked me what we were supposed to do.
"I-I'm not sure but we can't stay here. So I'm going to pack a few things, you should do the same." I said.
"O-okay..." She said standing up.
"Not now, Garcia is one of them, one of those zombie things. Wait for me."
"R-right." She said.
With bags packed, we walked up to the door cautiously. I peered through the peephole. Garcia had fumbled down the hall with his face firmly pressed against my door. I jumped back, as he snarled. I looked around for a weapon of some kind, and quickly received a knife from the kitchen.
"Wait in the kitchen, I'll come back for you." I said, one hand already on the door knob.
"W-What if you don't...you know, come back?" She said with a quivering lip.
I sighed, hoping that it wouldn't have to come to that. "Go to the far back room, just there. It's my bedroom. Grab some clothes, jackets, whatever, then take the fire escape and get the fuck out."
I composed myself, thinking of the number of things that could happen. One...Two...Three. Ripping the door back, Garcia fell through the threshold.
"Fuck!" I hissed, avoiding as much of him as possible.
Crawling towards my ankles, I saw the part of his arm that had been ripped out. That had been eaten. I knew I could wait any longer.
"I'm sorry." I whispered, just before using every ounce of strength I had to send the knife through his skull. He moaned momentarily, before falling completely silent. My first zombie, the first I ever killed. My hands were shaking, and I could feel every drop of his blood hit my face. It's something you never forget.
A/N: Written by Yours Truly, part 2 is underway and will be posted soon on our TUMBLR: ONEDIRECTIONOBESSIONPREFERENCES