Chapter 39: You're Not Sorry

"I had to."

"Liar!"

Hands grab at her wrist, pushing her back, slamming her against the wall with fire and fury.

"Get off me!"

"Murderer!"

Nails that have grown too long slice into her cheek, and Singer hisses in pain.

"You killed her!"

"She was bitten! I had to!" She manages to push Julia off of her, and Elijah places a hand on his sister's shoulder to keep her from attacking her again.

They all stand around her, shocked. Singer's just given the news-the lie she created about Jessica's death. She shot her, but not because she was bitten. No. She shot her because she was trading food and supplies for drugs. She was willing to let everyone starve if it meant she got her hit. Singer couldn't let that happen. She promised her mother she'd keep Katelyn safe.

She has to keep Katelyn safe.

She did what she had to do to keep Katelyn safe.

"You-you could've let us say goodbye!" Julia shouts, and Singer snarls as she wipes away the trickling blood.

"She was changing, quickly. I didn't have time to bring her back so we could have a tearful goodbye. We don't even have time for this argument. We need to leave. More zombies are arriving because of the sounds of the gunshot and the smell of... a body. And we're just standing here, out in the open, with me now bleeding." Singer straightens her posture, eyes gleaming with a maturity a twelve-year-old shouldn't have. "We have to leave."

"She's right," Wes says. He squints as he looks down the street. The sun has yet to rise, so the world is still stuck in the darkness of night, but he can see them coming. He knows they're coming. "There's more of them than there are us. We can't stay here."

"You're only siding with her because you hated my sister," Julia cries, angry tears flowing down her cheeks.

"Of course, we hated her," Tori cuts in. "She shot our brother in cold blood. He wasn't infected with the zombie virus; He still had a chance."

Katelyn grabs Singer's arm, her eyes wide as she watches the blurry, dark figures get closer and closer. The older sibling gets the message, and she grabs the small bag that contains what little food they've managed to scavenge, and starts walking. They other follow her brisk pace, but they don't stop their bickering. No, they're too angry, too upset to do that.

Singer can almost see the fire in their eyes-the hurt, the grief, the pain. She looks behind her. Some of the undead have turned off, heading towards the house that contains Jessica's body. They smell the blood, the death...

But some of them still follow after us-maybe ten zoms. Singer can't tell. It's so dark. They're still too far away to tell. Let's keep it that way. She doesn't want any casualties-she doesn't need anymore casualties.

But they won't lose them, not yet. The smell of her blood along with the sounds of anger and deceit keep them interested, keep them following.

"Jessica did a bad thing, but-but she shouldn't have-" Elijah starts, but Wesley is quick to cut him off,

"Did a bad thing? She was stealing food. She murdered my brother when he still had a chance."

"Singer killed your mom, and she got your dad killed and your sister died trying to kill her," Julia spats, and Singer's heart clenches at the look of pain that flashes across Wesley's blue eyes.

"My Mom was dying." He mutters Singer's name quietly. "She-she simply put her out of her misery before she turned. Brittney tried to murder her, and my dad was shot by a crazy old woman. Joey still had a chance of survival. Your sister took that away, and she was probably going to do that again if it meant getting more food."

The blonde jabs a finger at the brunet. "You shut up!"

"What? No denying it?" He scoffs. "That's because you know it's true. What do you think would happen if she killed the rest of us? Do you think she wouldn't hurt you or your brother? Do you think she'd spare you? She was stealing your food as well."

"How dare you!" Elijah fumes.

"Stop yelling," Katelyn urges. Her eyes are wide as she glances behind her. "We'll never lose them if you don't be quiet."

Singer knows her sister is right. Everyone else does too, but Singer also knows that everyone else is so blind by their emotions of anger and grief that they won't stop-not until they get out all their pain and frustration.

They don't have time for that. They don't have time for grief. They don't have time to mourn, not now. This is an apocalypse. Feelings don't matter when their lives are on the line.

Through the darkness, Singer can see maybe ten behind her-no, twelve. There are twelve corpses behind them, and they aren't giving up. They aren't fast, but they're quick enough to keep pace behind them. The group's quick jog won't be enough to lose them. They have to go faster.

She tries to pick up the pace, hoping that the others will follow suit, but only Katelyn does. The rest are too wrapped up in the bickering. Right now it's Wesley throwing out the mean words, hoping to inflict as much pain as possible. From the way Julia and Elijah flinches when he finishes, she guesses he did quite a good job at his task at hand.

"We have to speed up," The brunette urges. "We won't be able to lose them at this pace."

"Running's something you're good at, isn't it?" Julia says, spitting out her name as if it was poison in her mouth. "You always run after you do something wrong."

"You know, she's right," Tori agrees, a frown pulling at her lips. "You wanted to run after Brittney died, and after my dad. You're always running."

"No, we're always running," Singer corrects. "And if you remember the circumstances around your family members' deaths, then you'd remember that running was the best option. If we would've stayed, I would've gotten shot or zombies would've surrounded the house we were staying in and eaten us all. Neither of those sound great to me."

"You killing Jessica doesn't sound like a great idea, but you did that," Elijah murmurs, and she grits her teeth angrily. God, why does it feel like she's the adult here? There are two of them in this group (well, one, but the other is almost eighteen), and yet neither are acting like it.

"You know what, you can accuse and blame me all you want when we're away from the threat of being eaten alive," She says frustratingly. She still has her gun with her, along with a bag of food. One in one hand and one in the other.

She could try shooting at the zombies, since the sun is beginning to rise now, showing off some light to help guide them. But bullets cannot be wasted, and the sound of a gunshot will only attract more. There's not too many to try fighting off, but there's a big enough group that the chances of all of them getting out alive is slim to none, so they'll have to outrun them.

It'll be easier if those around her would shut up. It seems Katelyn is the only other one who actually cares more about her safety than her feelings. Even Wesley is spewing out hateful words and insults.

"Stop, all of you!" Singer finally shrieks. Her echoing voice gains all of their attention, but she knows she only has a few fleeting moments before they return back to their arguing. "We have to be quiet. You can curse and scream at each other after we get away from the walking dead that are stumbling after us."

Julia glares at her. "Why should we listen to you? You're just a twelve-year-old brat who thinks she can do whatever she wants."

Her shoulders tense. "Now you're beginning to sound like your sister."

"Oh, am I? Does that mean you're going to murder me too? Are you going to shoot me like you did her?"

"No."

"Just because Jessica's dead doesn't mean we've stopped wondering. How many more of us are going to die because of you? How many more of us are you going to kill? Are you even sorry for what you've done?"

Singer doesn't answer, because she knows they won't believe her.

"Are you sorry for killing Jessica?"

Singer's face darkens, and brown eyes snap up to meet blue ones in a look of anger and the loss of total care.

"No, I'm not."

Everyone gasps at her response. The look on their faces prove just how shocked they are by her words. But there's a look in Wesley's eyes-a look that tells her he knows she's lying; She's got to be.

She is, but no one ever seems to believe her when she tells the truth.

Julia screams, and tackles Singer to the grown. Her dirty clothes rip against the asphalt, and her skin tears, making her bleed even more. Bony hands clench up into small fists and pound at her face, delivering blow after blow to the younger girl.

Elijah tries to pull his sister off of her, but she's relentless, hitting Singer again and again and again. Singer brings her right knee up, hitting Julia's backside just enough to push her forward and over her. Her head slams into hard asphalt road, and Katelyn pushes her off of her sister. She says Singer's name worriedly as she helps her up, but she quickly shakes her head.

"I-I'm fine. I'm fine. But I'm bleeding. We need to get away from here before the zombies..." Her voice trails off when she sees just how close they are. They're not even twenty yards away.

Singer looks at her second cousin. She hit her head pretty hard. Elijah is the only reason she's standing up straight. She's not bleeding, but by the glossy look in her eyes, Singer's sure she has at least a mild concussion. They won't be able to outrun them-not with her in that state, or herself bleeding so much.

"We won't be able to outrun them," Singer says, and she picks up what she thinks is a lug wrench that she sees lying near the sidewalk. "We're going to have to fight them off."

"What?" Elijah gasps.

"Katelyn, go hide in one of these buildings. Stay by the door, but do not come out unless I call your name."

The eleven-year-old nods, and quickly she runs off into one of the smaller homes. Singer tells Elijah to do the same to the barely conscious Julia, but he simply sets her in an open doorway, where she can easily be seen by the zoms.

But she doesn't have time to scold him for his decision. The zombies are too close for her to do anything but fight. It's twelve zoms verses four humans. Two are not in this fight, and Singer wants to keep it that way.

She rears back and slams the lug wrench into the skull of a zombie. She turns her head away to avoid being hit in the face with a spatter of gray-red blood. She steps back, swinging at the other zombie that reaches out after her. She misses it completely with the first swing, and hits only the zom's shoulder with the second. Luckily, the third time's the charm, and she manages to hit the temple hard enough to break through and get to the brain.

It's harder to use this thing than she originally thought.

Tori has managed to kill one zombie with a piece of glass, and Wesley's got her back. Elijah's more or less pushing the zombies away with his hands towards Singer and Tori so they can finish them off.

That is, until one of them spots the unguarded blonde sitting in the doorway. It starts stumbling over to her, and Singer tries to shout out a warning, but a zombie grabs her arm, momentarily distracting her. She thrusts the lug wrench through its eyeball, pushing until it sticks out of the back of its head.

She pulls the lug wrench out, and the zombie drops. She looks up just in time to see the wandering zombie grab Julia's arm. She screams, but it only gains more of the zombies' attention.

Elijah screams out his sister's name, and he runs to her, but the he isn't fast enough. The zom brings her hand to its mouth, and she struggles, but her head injury is more severe than Singer thought. Julia is too weak to pull away.

The zombie takes off her middle and ring finger in one messy bite. Julia screams again, louder this time. Much, much louder.

"No!" Elijah calls, his eyes wide. It dawns on Singer that she was Elijah's last immediate family member.

Maybe that's why he doesn't stop running towards her.

"No! Stop!" Singer yells, and she hears more growls in the distance. The screams must've attracted more. More are coming. They won't be able to fight off another twenty or thirty zombies. "Elijah!"

He doesn't stop. He pushes two zombies out of the way to grab ahold of Julia, who is still screaming and crying. He tries to pull her to her feet, but she refuses to move. She's too busy staring at her bleeding hand.

"Elijah!" Singer calls, eyes filled with horror as he keeps trying to pull Julia up, not noticing the group of zombies surrounding him.

He doesn't notice them, not until there are multiple pairs of hands grasping at his clothes, and teeth sinking into his skin... and Julia's.

Their screams blend together in a chorus of death.

"We have to run," Wesley says, grabbing Singer's hand and tugging harshly.

"Katelyn!" She yells, and immediately the door to the house the younger sibling was hiding in opens. She bolts towards her older sister, who is running by Tori and Wesley as fast as she can.

Singer can hear them behind her. The screams have stopped, and the zombies are busy fighting each other for a bite of the fresh meat. That still doesn't cause her to slow down. She's still bleeding from her fight with Julia. She can't risk the smell of her injuries lingering in the air.

So she keeps running, her footsteps ringing in her ears, and the memory her cousins' screams echoing in her mind.

•

My eyes flutter open, and I sit up, searching blindly in the darkness.

Tenth kill. Eleventh kill.

I shake my head, willing the memory to go away. I don't need that right now. Although I guess this makes sense that a memory would haunt me on Halloween night.

It's dark out, but I know many are still awake, having fun and causing mischief. I thought I would try going to bed early this Halloween, seeing Penelope was going trick-or-treating with Carina and Molly, and Kefilwe decided she'd take them. I didn't complain. If she wanted to handle them during their sugar highs, then be my guest.

But now I'm awake, and I have no desire to go back to sleep. Memories are the most haunting things, and they're so vivid. I can't tell if that's just my mind or because of my weird... abilities.

Not that it really matters anyway.

I hear the door slowly creak open, and a dim light flickers on. A figure slowly enters, trying to move as quickly and quietly as possible. I raise a brow as I watch him. I'm the only person in the dorms, besides him, of course. Everyone else is helping with the children or at the Halloween party for the adults.

"What are you doing?" I ask suddenly.

"Shit," He exclaims, and I swear Sam jumps an entire foot in the air before backing up and slamming into one of the bunk beds. I cringe, but he doesn't seem to be in pain. "F-Five, hi. You're awake. I didn't... I thought you went to bed early."

"I did."

"That's why I was, well... I just didn't... Did I wake you?" He seems oddly more flustered than normal. I can't exactly imagine why, but I notice his eyes linger on my face as I run my hand through my knotted hair.

I shake my head as I stand. My legs feel weak, so I casually lean against the bunk bed to stay upright without looking like a newborn giraffe that doesn't know how to stand.

"No. I just woke up because of... it doesn't matter. What are you doing back? Finished already?"

He shakes his head. "No way. I was just coming back because Summer said she forgot her mask for her costume. She asked me to come and get it for her."

I nod, finally taking the time to notice the costume Sam is wearing. It looks to be a wizard's robe, or something akin to it. That doesn't surprise me. This type of costume is definitely Sam. It's not a secret that he's a nerd, but that's okay. It's one of the things that makes him unique from any of the radio operators I've had in the past.

The blue color of the fabric is faded, and a piece of the sleeve has had to be sewn back, but it has nice detailing and a interesting hood that makes it look like a decent costume for someone in an apocalypse.

"Since you're up, you could come with me, go to the little party we're having-not in Janine's farmhouse, might I add."

I shrug. "I'd be the only person there not wearing a costume."

"You could wear what you have on and say you're a hobo."

I snort. "Shut up."

Sam walks over to Summer's bed, and looks under it. When he stands, he has a clown mask in hand, and I shudder violently at the sight. He raises a brow, a sly grin forming on his face.

"What? Afraid of clowns?"

I grimace when he waves the mask around, but then give a small smile. "Not exactly. My sister was always afraid of them, and so was my best friend. I learned to stay away from them since well... yeah. I was more afraid of vampires as a child."

"Yeah, they were a bit overrated if you ask me, and I think everyone saw clowns as a tiny bit creepy." He starts heading for the door, motioning me to follow. "Come on. I don't want to leave you in here by yourself, especially since..." He pauses, as if thinking on whether or not he should continue. "Was it another... vision? Is that why-"

"No."

"Oh... good. That's-well, I mean it's good, but it's also not good since they could help us with finding our people, but it's good because you're not, like coughing up blood or-"

"I get what you mean, Sam," I say, forcing a smile as I slip on some flats.

He laughs awkwardly, and rubs the back of his neck. "Right... right. Let's get going then?"

I nod.

We leave the dorms, and as soon as I step out of the building, I'm hit with a gust of cold night air. My skin prickles, and I tense, willing my teeth not to chatter. Sam notices my discomfort immediately.

"Oh, crap. Sorry. I wasn't-I wasn't thinking about how you'd be-do you want to go get a jacket?"

"No," I say quickly. "I-I'll be fine. Let's just get to wherever we're going."

"Right. Uh, this way, to the Fellowship Hall. God, I hate that they've called it that."

I huff out a laugh as we start walking. Sam stays close my side in what I guess is an attempt to shield me from some of the cold breezes that go by. I distract myself from the cold by looking around at the decorations that's been set up around the township.

Most of it is just the white fairy lights and a few lit up pumpkins, but it's enough to make the kids happy. Their screams of enjoyment and shrieks of laughter drown out the moaning coming from the groups of zombies outside the gates of Abel. That is one problem about any holiday-the noise and lights always attract the undead.

All of the children are dressed up in similar costumes-princesses, pirates, ninjas, fairies. All of it innocent and cute. There are a few adults dressed up as something creepy like a psycho killer or a clown. I think I saw one person dressed up as a Scar from 'The Lion King.' Things such as that.

No one is stupid enough to dress up as a zombie. Four years into the apocalypse and you learn things such as that. That's the type of thing you do only if you want to get shot.

"I don't think I've ever been to a Halloween party in Abel," I mutter.

"Well, yeah, that's because last year me and you spent the night in the graveyard." He winces after a moment. "That sounds a lot creepier when taken out of context."

"You think?" I grin, but it fades rather quickly. "It's weird... it was just after Chris McShell died... it doesn't feel like it's been a year, has it?"

"Not even close. I didn't expect we'd find his daughter less than a year after he died either."

"A lot of things have happened this year that we didn't expect." My eyes are downcast, and I rub my arms worriedly. "Do you think we'll find them before Christmas?"

Sam blinks. "What?"

"Our people. We spent Fourth of July without them-and yes, I know that's an American holiday, but still-we spent Easter without them, we're spending Halloween without them, and I doubt we'll be able to find them before Thanksgiving. I mean, we've barely found anything on them yet. I know because-because my running schedule for the next week is-is nothing but food supply runs a-and a fuel run."

He looks at me with heavy eyes, as if trying to think of a way to assure me, but finding no words.

"I don't know," He says. "I hope we will. We've been looking through Amelia's contacts every spare second we get, and we're hoping to find something soon, but you know how this stuff is, Five. I can't give you a date, and I can't-"

"I know you can't. I'm just... I'm tired of waiting for it to happen."

"For what to happen?"

"To hear her voice. The other voices I heard-yours, Amelia's, Owen's-I've already heard y'all say y'all's thing. I'm tired of waiting to hear her speak."

Sam stops walking, and he grabs my arm to keep my from walking to. There's a confused frown on his face. "Five, what are you talking about?"

My eyes dart around quickly to make sure no one is looking. No one is. Everyone is too busy getting stale taffy and outdated cheap chocolate.

"Okay, remember when I was a idiot and I slipped and hit my head while taking a shower?"

"Um... yes?"

"Well, when I hit my head, I heard all these different voices saying different things. I heard Owen saying 'it hurts' from when Amelia shot him. I heard Jody telling us she was innocent when she was accused of killing those people. I heard Nadia when she read about Laetitia Greenwald while we were at Treetop Base. I heard you and Amelia too. But at the time, I just heard short sentences. I didn't know what they meant of when they would be said.

"But I heard one more voice speak. I heard Maxine."

Sam gasps. "W-Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't know if it was a vision or if I'd hit my head too hard on the tile, plus I got distracted by some stuff Tony told me and... yeah. Anyway, I've already heard all of you say what I heard in my vision-all except Maxine."

"And what did you hear Maxine say in your vision?"

I bite my lip. "I can't remember all of it, but it was something... 'I have to talk to her. You have to let me...' um, what was it? Something about Abel." I grab my invisible backpack strap. "Come on, Singer. Think. Think."

"Singer?" Sam questions.

"Don't ask. Um.... 'You have to let me... warn her!' That's what it was! 'You have to let me warn her...' and then something about Abel Township. I can't... I'll remember when I hear it, but... I'm sorry."

"No, it's-it's okay. Did she say a name? Her. Does she mean Paula or Janine or you or-or even Amelia?"

"I don't know."

"Well, this means she's okay, at least. We need to tell-"

"No!" I shout. "We can't... we can't tell anyone. They'll think I'm nuts. I mean, you did."

"You're never gonna let me live that down, are you?" He deadpans.

"Please, Sam. Don't tell anyone. I mean, it's bad enough I know some of the things I know, and it's even worse that I told you some of it. I can't go around telling everyone I have visions and shit. People will start thinking I'm claiming to be psychic or something. I'm not Shawn Spencer."

He blinks in confusion, but I just shake my head.

"Listen, I think all the voices and things happened in the order that I heard them in my visions. Maxine's voice was last, and I've heard everybody else's, so I think we might be hearing from her soon. Possible the next mission I have of importance, or the one after that. Please, though, don't say anything. I can't do anything if I'm put in the psychiatric room like I was last time."

He groans loudly. "Fine, but you have to promise me something."

I nod.

"You tell me the next time you have a vision, good or bad, alright?"

I hesitate, and he frowns.

"Promise?" He asks, and with reluctance I nod.

"I... I promise."

A/N: Here you go, guys! Listen, I have to tell you something. My sister is going to the doctor tomorrow to get an ultrasound on her neck. Please pray for her, because we don't know what's wrong and you know how people tend to fear the worst.

Also, if I don't reply to your comments on my story, it's because my iPod is being stupid and won't let me.

So with that being said, please be sure to vote and comment. Thank you and have a blessed day!