John curses under his breath as he takes in the sight of the vacant backyard. He turned his back on you once, thinking the high fences would be enough to protect your tiny body from the outside wall, but apparently you’ve found a way out.

The usual bustling streets have been quiet as of late, filled by the occasional moans and shuffles of the zombies outside.

Panic surges through John as he springs into action, screwing the silencer onto his handgun and grabbing his combat knife before rushing out. You’re out of sight, vanished out of thin air.

Days pass, but John doesn’t stop looking for you.

“Oh, honey..” John lowers his gun, eyebrows furrowing together as he takes in the sight of your little limping body, eyes fogged and jaw unhinged, blood coating your cartoon clad tshirt and clothes.

Crouching down he reaches a hand out, stroking your hair with his calloused fingers before holding his hand in front of your face.

“Go on, baby. Take me too.” He mumbles, refusing to live in a world without you.