[ WP ] It 's been 8 months since the zombie apocalypse . You fell in with a tough as nails roughneck group . When in the city looting , you come across a scavenger . He 's your best friend from before the outbreak and your crew unanimously decides to execute him ( he is armed ) .

I sprinted with the others on uneven pavement, trying to find Johnny and Mateo. Someone had foolishly tried to raid our supplies, unaware that we always had at least two eyes open in the night. The narrow lanes and surrounding bleak walls were only illuminated by the distant fires that seemed to perpetually burn but never spread. Zombies were not the only danger anymore. 
 
 We heard shouts not too far away, and after a few more sharp turns ( goddammit how I crave the open countryside ) we arrived at their source. Johnny was crouched in front of a stuccoed wall, his beloved knife gently resting on the throat of an emaciated 20-something year old with unkempt black hair, his eyes fixed to the ground. A torn bag of stolen food sprawled next to him. Mateo stood facing them and continued with our standard interrogation. 
 
 “ So what use would you be if you joined our little group here? ” Mateo asked with a smirk and a snicker. 
 
 “ I-I can help you fight the…things! ” said the man, attempting unsuccessfully to overcome his timidity with volume. I looked at him closer, startled. 
 
 “ Ah but you see, we are pretty good at that already. ” Mateo, smiling, paced back and forth. “ And call them zombies, don ’ t try and sugarcoat it like everyone else. ” 
 
 “ I can steal food for you. ” The man, for the first time, looked up to Mateo and I saw his frightened eyes. I stopped breathing and a coldness blew down my back making my hairs stand up. In my mind those same eyes appeared, running across the playground from the threatening older kids, gazing at their father with another woman in the town. Mark. The same Mark who shared my loneliness in elementary school. We built forts in the woods and pretended they were castles. The Mark who talked back to the teachers in high school but was so funny the teachers couldn ’ t help but laugh along. I had forgotten about the endless video gaming in the winter and endless exploration in the summer. The eyes turned to me and Mark frowned, not understanding. The eyes widened. 
 
 “ Steal food for us? You are clearly not very good at it! ” Mateo guffawed, a menacing glint in his eye. Realizing his intimidation had not had the desired effect, he peered confusedly at Mark, who was still staring at me. Looking between the both of us he mocked, “ Oi, is this love at first sight? ” He looked at me. “ Got a thing for scrawny thieves, newbie? ” 
 
 “ I…knew him once. ” I looked at the tortured eyes again. “ He ’ s a good guy, I swea- “ 
 
 “ What have I told you about good guys? I don ’ t give a shit. Is he a useful guy? No! Look at him! ” 
 
 Mark began to protest but Johnny pressed the knife harder against his neck to form pools of red on the blade. 
 
 Mateo glared at the starved man from an inch away. “ I think everyone agrees that we should kill him. ” There were nods all around. Johnny grunted. 
 
 Mark looked at me with tears cascading down his cheeks and ragged breath. I shook my head and mouthed *I ’ m sorry*, my face twisted with remorse. My heartbeat throbbed in my head, as if reminding me of my own life. Was it telling me to be more cautious or making me feel guilty? 
 
 Footsteps drummed from around the corner from which we arrived, and we all turned. A zombie sprinted at us, as mindless and unsubtle as only a zombie can be. Sarah stepped forward, a gun in her confident hand, and fired. Two shots were added to the mayhem of the city ’ s night. The zombie ’ s head was mostly gone and it writhed on the ground and Johnny screamed. 
 
 I whirled around and saw Johnny bleeding from his stomach and lying on his back, Mark wild-eyed and holding a pistol and Mateo tackling Mark while grabbing Johnny ’ s knife. Mark lost his grip on the gun and it slid away from him. In a vicious burst of movement Mateo stabbed his eye, chest and throat. Mark lay gargling on the pavement in a pond of dark red. My jaw clenched, but I had learned by now that weakness, however natural, was still weakness. I averted my eyes. 
 
 The unmistakable, arrhythmic drumming of zombies ’ running feet pounded from behind us. 
 
 “ Go! ” yelled Mateo, with only a passing glance at Johnny. 
 
 We ran again amidst the narrow lanes and squalid walls. My heartbeat still overpowered both my mind and the night ’ s chaos. *Is that all that matters? * The thought burst through the cacophony of life. 

