[ WP ] It 's the zombie apocalypse . You have turned , but you 're still in there . Unable to control your own body .

I can remember everything about her. Her face, the length of her average laugh, her shoe size, what clothes she wore, what movies she liked, how I used to kiss the back of her hand and how much she loved it, but none of my memories compare to her. As a person. As a real life, human being. Someone I could hold and kiss and tell stories to. Someone I would die for. 
 
 I looked everywhere for her. First place I checked was her work because that's where she was when shit hit the fan, but that's not where she stayed. I tried calling her, but she did n't pick up. I asked everyone I could, I put up fliers, I fired flares into the sky, but nothing. 
 
 I have n't stopped looking for her, but I'm out of ideas, so now I just kind of wander around the city, looking for anything that might bring me to her. I've been searching for her so long, it's taken its toll. My eyes are sunken, I can barely feel my heart beat and the soles of my feet are worn out because they never leave the ground when I walk. Call it a bad habit. The apocalypse forces you into a lot of those. It also forces you to get focused. 
 
 Normally I was focused on her and how much I was still in love with her, but at this particular moment, my attention was drawn to something else. A noise. Far off. Down the road. It grew louder. I had n't heard a noise like that in months. 
 
 Soon, a car came swerving around the corner and rocketed down the street. Not a sedan, or a minivan, but a mish-mash of random metal bits with four, rouge wheels sticking out of the bottom. It roared down the asphalt, coming towards me. This started to agitate the crowd. 
 
 Oh yeah, the crowd. They're the one's responsible for ending the world in the first place and they've gotten a lot of hostility these days for that, but they're not to be hated. They're just searching for something too. We all are. We just could n't tell you what it was. 
 
 And holy fuck there was a lot of them. Like a parade times twelve of them, they clogged up the road like a fur-ball clogs your shower drain. The car tried to drive straight through them, but was diverted almost immediately into a street pole. Whoever was driving must not have been paying much attention. 
 
 The door flew open, knocking some of the crowd onto their feet and the old, familiar sound of a shotgun blast reverberated around the corridor that was the street. A man jumped out, a real action hero looking guy complete with scars, bandanna and a sneer. 
 
 And from the passenger side rose the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my life. It was her. With her perfectly straight hair, freckled cheeks and high-powered assault rifle, it was her! It had to be! The woman I'd been searching for since I could remember. 
 
 What was she doing with this bandanna-wearing jerk? 
 
 My legs were moving before I could even put a thought together, slapping against the pavement as I sprinted for her. I had so many questions. 
 
 `` Get to the alley! Go!'' The action hero roared, signaling my sweetheart to retreat into the alleyway behind them, but I could n't let her get away. I tried yelling to get her attention, but my mind just would n't put words together. I was overwhelmed by desire. I needed her. 
 
 The crowd was making it difficult to maneuver and I know it's not dignified, but I had to start climbing on people just to give chase. My foot on someone's head, hand clutching a collar, until finally I climbed over the tsunami of bodies and fell, face first into the alleyway. Picking myself up was n't difficult, it almost felt automatic and once I was on my feet, I saw her. Her gorgeous figure hoisting herself up a fire escape. I knew she was scared, but I also knew that if I could just talk to her, I could make this all make sense. 
 
 A group of five people made it to the fire escape before me and had the beefcake on his ass before he could say a word. Grateful as I was, he was n't a concern of mine. Instead, I leaped at the fire escape and pulled myself up, booking it to the roof like the Flash. With each step, I had a new idea of what I should say, but I did n't settle on anything. Nothing was good enough. It's a good thing my muscles were still forcing me up the stairs, otherwise I might have just frozen there in shock or nervousness. 
 
 I reached the roof and there she was, standing at the other end, wind blowing her hair around, hands wrapped around her gun. When I appeared, she spun in place and took aim. 
 
 Then she stopped. The barrel of her gun lowered to the ground. Even at this distance, I could see her eyes swell with tears. 
 
 `` Oh my god,'' she whimpered. I tried to smile. I think it worked. At least it felt like it did. Still no words though. This is exactly what I was afraid of. 
 
 `` Michael?'' She had a hard time saying that name. It was my name. She's said it before a hundred times. I wonder why it was hard for her. I had just started noticing that I was standing completely still. This was odd because usually I'd be in constant motion. It felt like a struggle to keep myself in one place, like I was fighting my own desire, but for some reason, I knew it was the right thing to do. 
 
 Until I just could n't take it anymore. I wanted her. I wanted her so bad, and my body did too, so it took charge. We bolted at her, arms outstretched, I just wanted to hold her again. 
 
 She raised her gun and threw a bullet into my shoulder. The shot knocked me to the ground. It did n't hurt, it just confused me. Why did she want to kill me? I have n't seen her so long! God damnit, if only I could find the right words... 
 
 Another gunshot went off. I looked up just as she pulled the trigger for a third time. Then a fourth. Behind me, I could hear the pattering feet slap against the concrete. The crowd was on their way. They were going to ruin everything. 
 
 And they did. 
 
 She lowered her gun again, her whole body deflated, then she looked into my eyes one last time before stepping up onto the edge of the building and throwing herself off. 
 
 If I could have screamed, I would, but I could n't. 
 
 Instead, I just started running. Straight towards the edge of the building, chasing the girl I'd been chasing since as long as I could remember. Then I jumped. Half of me wished I would n't survive the fall. The other half knew I would. 
 _____________________________________________________________ 
 
 I remember him. Michael. His short crop of brown hair and his heart bigger than the universe. I knew he loved me, but I never knew how much. 
 
 He was no Austin Leblanc who taught me how to use a gun, modify a car and generally survive. Look how well that turned out. 
 
 I woke up. That's a weird thing to say after you've just tried to kill yourself, but I did. I woke up lying on the sidewalk, feeling less than okay, but I was n't in pain. I sat bolt upright thinking I was dead. This could n't be death. It looked exactly like life. In fact, this was the same city street I thought I died on. Was this death? 
 
 I wanted to use words, but I could n't. I tried, but it just did n't happen. Besides that, the only other feeling I could focus on, truly, was the burning desire I had to see Michael again. I could n't tell you why, but I knew Michael was out there somewhere and something inside of me just wanted to see him again, to tell him I'm sorry. 
 
 I felt something on my hand and looked at it. 
 
 There was Michael, on his knees, his lips pressed against the back of my hand. When he removed them, he left a bite mark. He stared at me and I stared at him. Without any words we read each other's minds. 
 
 Yes, he still loved me. 
 Yes, I still loved him. 
 Yes, we were both unimaginably hungry.
