during your search for food and resources as the year is getting closer and closer to the end— making it the 2nd year into the apocalypse, you hear somebody else walking around. assuming it was a zombie, you covered your mouth and hit behind a shelf in an old store.

nobody remembers how it happened in this town and nobody is sure if they’re working on a cure in other states or countries.

your bag was in your lap, full of things you’ve found this week to take home to a small family that brought you in when the outbreak first started.

as the footsteps got closer, the shakier your breath got in hopes the zombie couldn’t hear.

as you heard the footsteps around the corner and into the store, you practically accepted your fate then.

the footsteps stopped and you carefully peeked an eye open to see a tall, white-haired man covered in dirt, blood, mud, etc. nobody was clean nowadays.

you both were as shocked as one another, his bag slung over his shoulder before he quietly crouched down in front of you, tilting his head with a grin.

“shit— you alright?” the man asked quietly as he looked at your face, then the way you were against the shelf, how dirty you were, and how panicked you still looked.

“calm down, yeah? we’re on the same side, silly.”