I turned around, there was nothing there, the billboard said "the end is near"

it all happened so fast.

one moment you were outside, looking for your pocket knife that you'd dropped in the grass, the next, your mother's boyfriend Daryl was pulling you inside the house, a crossbow slung over his shoulder.

you tried to protest, reasoning there was nothing wrong, until you got inside and the echo of the door slamming behind you was interrupted by the sound of the Television.

a blue light illuminated in the dark room, shining on crumpled beer cans and ashy cigarette trays. It showed the peeling wallpaper and lack of other light in the house with the blinds closed.

Daryl stood beside you as he waited for you to understand. He stood silent, judging, wary, stoic. He was a strange man.

the TV showed pictures and footage from scenes you didn't recognize. Brutality beyond initial understanding. People getting shot by police and getting back up, shuffling toward them again. It showed people getting attacked, and soon the reporter was overwhelmed too. And the program cut out.

your heart was pounding against your ribs. Was this real? Was this possible? How hadn't they contained it? Why hadn't they cured it?

your thoughts were interrupted by the man beside you. You'd never gotten along with Daryl. He was just your mother's boyfriend who smoked too much and spoke too little. You always got the impression he hated you, but really he just didn't like talking.

"You're mother's out there." the words left his lips like an apology rather than an assurance.

"Went for groceries." he added, hand tightening around the crossbow strap on his shoulder.

your heart paused in its relentless humming and your eyes widened as you whipped around to look at Daryl.

"Which store??" you asked, scared, but ready, already running through the closest places and where your bike was stashed.

Daryl shook his head.

"Y'ain't goin' out there. Too dangerous." he grumbled, knowing you wouldn't take that well, but not willing to compromise.

"If she's alive she'll make it back. No use risking yourself." he added, looking at the static screen of the TV rather than your eyes, as though it held answers to all this.

before you could respond with a defiance, he nodded his head down the hall to your room. "Pack what ya need. Ain't safe here." he still didn't meet your eye.

begrudgingly, you went to your room, mind flitting through different ways to find your mother out there. Even if you had to go alone.

you stuffed your most versatile clothes into a bag along with peroxide, bandages, anything medical in the bathroom you could find, water bottle, a flashlight, etc.

you realized your knife was missing and remembered you'd dropped it outside.

you cursed under your breath and slung the backpack over your shoulder, exiting your bedroom and back down the hall.

in the hallway you heard voices, two of them, low and in the living room. You reached for your knife, but it wasn't there. So you peeked your head around the corner.

Daryl was talking to a man you didn't recognize. He was older than Daryl, more grey hair and more scary looking if that was possible.

your eyes narrowed and you tried to gage the situation, they were talking calmly, supplies on the living room floor in bags.

then Daryl noticed you, and he sighed, the other man followed his eye and saw you too. he grinned and chuckled as though people weren't dying on the street and waking to kill others outside.

"What've we got here?" he said, turning to face you and you didn't shrink away, as much as you wanted to, you stepped out.

"Merle, leave her alone." Daryl said with a roll of his eyes, putting his hand on the man's shoulder.

Merle. That rang a bell. That was Daryl's brother, the one who went to the military.

Daryl shifted his focus to you and stepped over a couple bags of supplies.

"He's gonna help us get out. Hopefully find yer' ma." Daryl said in that same gruff voice. You could barely tell that he cared. Maybe he didn't.