“Your Majesty!” Lord Taggart argues. “A rebel has been captured! Something must be done!”

“Oh, I most certainly agree,” I say. “What does my loyal council suggest?”

Shouting breaks out across the room as the stuffy old prats vie for my approval, eager to gain more power and money for themselves. I watch through lidded eyes, thinking of my own plans. Running a kingdom is so dreadfully boring, that is, until you start a war. I’ve already conquered three countries beyond my own Calia in hope of a rebellion. It’s honestly extremely disappointing that it’s taken this long for someone to grow a spine. I raise my hand, an order for silence, and gesture towards the dark-haired beauty, the Lady Fretwell, the only council member to remain level-headed throughout the chaos.

“My queen, I believe that we may have no choice but to… extract… the information we need to control this delicate situation.”

I tilt my head in acknowledgment and cast my gaze around at the rest of the faces in the room. One face, in particular, stands out.

“Lord McDowell, you disagree with the Lady?”

He hesitates slightly before answering, “I think we must consider that the rebel is acting alone and that this is an isolated incident.”

I hope not.

“How are we to know unless we seek the information, my lord?” the Lady retorts. “We cannot guarantee Her Majesty’s safety unless we are willing to hand out punishment for treasonous ideas.”

He dabs his forehead with a silk handkerchief, looking down at the polished mahogany table.

“Is the council of one mind in this decision?” I question, heads nodding in answer, some more slowly than others.

“Bring in the prisoner,” I order.

The game is finally beginning. All but Lady Fretwell, whose eyes gleam with interest, flinch when they spy my grin.

Day One

This morning, everything was perfectly normal; until we were sent home early. That’s when it all went to hell. I got home, and I heard a scream, so I ran into the living room to see my zombified parents trying to eat my little brother, Jackson’s, brains. I grabbed the lamp and swung it into the back of my dad’s head, sending zombie goop everywhere. I yelled at Jacks to run, and when my mom turned towards me, I swear to God I nearly peed myself. Her eyes were empty, her face bloody. The woman who had cared for me my whole life was gone. That split second of hesitation was just enough for her to rake her broken fingernails across my chest. I grabbed one of my textbooks from the table behind me and smashed her head in, covering myself in blood and gore. I ran up to my room, changed my clothes, and ran back downstairs to tell Jacks to pack. We threw clothes, water bottles, and food from the pantry into a duffel bag and ran. I started to stalk towards the police station, looking back to make sure Jacks followed me. Suddenly a cop named Matt ran up to us and pulled us into an alley, killing a zombie with a pistol. He told us that getting cut or bit by a zombie turned you into one. That was when I realized that I was a dead woman walking, or about to be. I pulled the cop aside and begged him to keep Jacks safe. He agreed, on the condition that I end it. So now, here I am, writing my suicide note. My parents are dead and I have no clue where my friends are. Jacks is all I have left.

Dear Jacks,

Hey, it’s me. Lena. I’m gonna leave you with Matt, ok? It’s not safe for you to stay with me anymore. But you need to stay alive, yeah? No matter what happens, please try to stay safe. I love you, Jacks. Even more than Grandma’s apple pie.

Lena

Where’s Mama? She thought, looking frantically around the farmers market. She felt a tap on her shoulder and spun around, hoping to see her mama, only to see a concerned looking short man with cropped brown hair and stubble.

“Hey doll, you doing’ ok?” he asked her, “What’s your name?”

Her eyes filled with tears as she answered, “My name’s Isabel, and I can’t find my mama.”

“What’s your mama look like?” he inquired. “Maybe we can find her together.”

She sniffed, “She has a brown ponytail, and she’s wearing shorts and a white tank top.”

He nodded and gently took her hand and started leading her around the stalls.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“We’re gonna wander around until we find her, or someone who’s seen her,” he answered. “But for now, you’re going to have some chocolate.”

“You don’t have any chocolate.” she said suspiciously.

“It’s in my car.”

“And after that, we’ll find Mama?” she pressed.

“Pinky promise,” he grinned. “C’mon.”

She followed the nice man until he stopped next to a white car. He let go of her hand and leaned in to grab a melted candy bar from the unlocked car. He unwrapped it and handed it to her, smiling kindly. She took it from him and watched as he started his car.

“You said we were gonna find Mama.” she said, forgetting the candy.

“I did say that, didn’t I?” the man turned and knelt before her, tilting her chin up so he could look into her eyes.

He wasn’t smiling anymore. He was smirking, his dark blue eyes alight with contempt. She tried to take her hand away, but instead, he pulled her closer.

He leaned down and whispered into her ear, “Didn’t your mama tell ya never to take candy from strangers, kid?”