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You see, I'm not like them. They can go through this desecrated city, blasting any and all zombies they come across. They can't give second thoughts to those whom they're re-killing...it's not in their nature, and it's not part of their survival. I'm not like them.

We walk now through an old apartment building, the paint peeling and the stench overwhelming. This is the only path back out onto the street, though, since the street we were on had cracked down to the sewer lines. This room, though dark and foreboding, offers us a welcome respite from the constant horde that we fight through. Ken sits at the doorway to the apartment, keeping an eye out for anything that might attack; Eli sleeps soundly on the broken couch, still holding his 9mm. I'll sleep too, in just a bit, but since I do so little in the way of actual fighting I feel obligated to prove myself in these little respites. Therefore, I wander through the apartment, scouring for anything that hasn't rotted or been stolen already, anything that might be useful.

My path has taken me to the back of the apartment, and I find myself in a little girls' room. The walls are a soothing pastel blue, and the walls are decorated with posters of Sesame Street and Blue's Clues. A pair of tiny skeletons, black-red blood still soaked into the bones in places but the flesh long since worn off, clutch each other on top of a blood soaked comforter. Though I know this room can't possibly have anything of value to us, I still wander around, picking up a stuffed bunny on my way through. On the desk I find an open book, one side filled with childish writing and a picture scrawled in crayon on the other side.

Me and sis are friends
by Maddie
Me and sis are friends
We play together and color together
We like Elmo
I'm the bigger one
So I gotta take care of her
But I'm sick
So she takes care of me
Until I get better

I shouldn't have read that. All I can do is pick up the little journal and sit on the bed, holding it to my chest as I quietly cry. Why do I bother with these personal touches? It doesn't get us through this city and out into safety...it puts me more at danger. Does that make me more or less human than the protectors that sit outside in the living room, keeping me safe?