Sisters

Megan and her parents had been traveling as long as she could she remember. They would travel from place to place, finding an abandoned house to hunker down for the winter. Sometimes they would join a group for a while if they found anyone trustworthy, but mostly they were on their own. Dad would always be in front, gun over his shoulder at the ready. The leaves were starting to fall, and Megan and her parents were going to the outpost of Jackson in hopes of finally getting to a place of permanent safety. Despite the dangerous environment, they were happy; a home was just a few weeks of traveling away.

Infected were somewhat sparse in the wilderness if you were lucky. It was other people that you had to worry about. Megan’s world had always been one of uncertainty, a series of fleeting moments and restless nights spent on the fringes of survival. From the time she could remember, she and her parents had been nomads, crisscrossing the ravaged landscape in search of safety, shelter, and solace. Each abandoned house they found offered a temporary reprieve, a brief flicker of warmth against the chill that had seeped into their bones long ago.

As autumn descended upon the world, the trees shed their vibrant foliage, carpeting the ground with a tapestry of reds and golds. The crisp air was filled with the earthy scent of decay, a reminder of the cycle of life and death that governed their existence. Megan’s heart danced with a mixture of hope and apprehension. This year, they were bound for Jackson, an outpost that whispered promises of permanence, a sanctuary amid the chaos. “Just a few more weeks,” her father had assured her, his voice a steady anchor in the storm of uncertainty.

But as they trekked through the thinning woods, her father walked with caution, his gun slung over his shoulder, eyes scanning the shadows for threats. He was ever-vigilant, the protector of their small unit, while her mother stayed close, ready to shield Megan at a moment’s notice. They were a well-rehearsed trio, moving in sync, each aware of their roles, each a cog in the fragile machinery of survival.

Yet, it was the unpredictability of humanity that haunted them most. Infected were a constant danger, but the true peril lay in other survivors—desperate souls twisted by fear and hunger, willing to do anything for survival. They were the specters of betrayal that haunted Megan’s dreams, lurking in the back of her mind as they journeyed deeper into the wilderness.

On one of those crisp afternoons, the sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch towards the edges of their vision. The air was charged with an electric tension, and Megan felt it in her bones. She watched her father as he led the way, his demeanor calm but taut, like a bowstring ready to snap. Her mother walked beside her, an arm around her shoulder, whispering comforting words that tried to dispel the fears swirling in Megan's heart.

As they traversed a particularly thick patch of underbrush, the sounds of the forest enveloped them. The rustling leaves, the distant call of a bird, the soft crunch of twigs underfoot—each noise felt amplified in the stillness. They stopped at a small clearing, a break in the trees that revealed a breathtaking view of the landscape bathed in golden sunlight. For a brief moment, Megan allowed herself to dream, picturing what life might be like in Jackson. A home with walls that didn’t feel like they could collapse at any moment, a bed where she could sleep without the fear of waking to chaos.

But just as quickly as the dream surfaced, it shattered. The echo of distant gunfire tore through the tranquility, sharp and jarring, like a crack of thunder. Megan’s heart raced, adrenaline flooding her system as she instinctively moved closer to her mother. Her father’s face hardened as he gripped his weapon tighter, scanning the horizon for the source of the sound.

“Stay close,” he ordered, his voice low and steady. Megan nodded, her breath hitching in her throat as they resumed their journey, urgency propelling them forward. They didn’t know where the threat was coming from, but they had to keep moving, had to reach Jackson before the day turned into night.

In that moment, the dream of safety felt distant, almost impossible. Megan’s mind whirred with possibilities—what if they didn’t make it? What if this was the day their luck ran out? She stole a glance at her parents, their faces set in determination. They were her strength, her tether to hope, and she refused to let fear win.

As the sun dipped lower, casting an orange hue across the sky, they pressed on, unaware of the shadows that lurked just beyond their sight—shadows that would soon reach out and snatch away their dreams of a new beginning.

Megan had been playing along the tree line, almost out of sight of her parents, when she heard her dad's voice shatter the calm. "Megan! RUN!" Her mother’s terrified scream echoed in her ears, a sound that would haunt her for the rest of her life.

The distant crackle of gunfire pierced the air, followed by frantic shouts that sent a jolt of fear coursing through her veins. “Don’t let her get away!” a male voice growled, filled with menace.

Panic ignited her instincts. She didn’t think twice; her legs sprang into action, propelling her deeper into the woods. The world around her blurred as she searched frantically for a place to hide. Her heart raced, pounding against her ribcage like a caged animal desperate to escape.

A small rocky outcrop in a creek bed caught her eye—a refuge amidst the chaos. Without hesitation, she dove inside, collapsing onto the cool earth, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The darkness of her makeshift shelter enveloped her.

She strained to hear any signs of her parents, but the world outside was filled with the sounds of chaos—yelling, gunfire, and the chilling realization that she was now utterly alone. Megan pressed her back against the cold, damp rock, feeling the weight of dread settle heavily on her chest.

Megan held her breath, clutching her spear tightly, as the footsteps drew closer. Time stretched on, each second feeling like an eternity until finally, the sounds began to fade into the distance. She slowly rose to her feet, her body trembling with adrenaline and fear. Heart pounding, she crept to the entrance of the cave, peering out into the dim light.

The forest was eerily quiet now, but she knew better than to think it was safe. Her parents were gone, and the world outside was unforgiving. She was on her own, and survival was no longer just a game. As the gravity of her situation set in, a new determination ignited within her. She would find a way to survive, for them. All clear. She didn’t move for a moment, still afraid of what might have happened. Finally she crawled out of the cave and made her way to the river to get her bearings. If her parents were still alive, they’d find each other. She found a fairly straight stick on the ground. She unclipped her Swiss Army knife from her belt loop and sharpened the stick into a spear. Megan knew how to survive; hee parents had taught her well, even though they weren’t here anymore. Now all she needed was to get to civilization somehow. She could do it. Maybe. Hopefully.

Her pack only had a few days worth of food, an extra jacket, a flashlight, some matches, some venison jerky, some flares, and a canteen and mess kit. It wasn’t going to be enough for long term survival. She remembered her dad say that Jackson was west, so she headed in that direction. She traveled until just before dark, building a fire and trying to eat the last of her jerky ration. She didn’t sleep; she was too afraid someone would come back for her. Megan was just relieved that no one did.As the sun began rising, Megan spotted what appeared to be an old road ahead of her. She was sure she should keep going. It was just a few weeks journey after all….