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"Brit, get the bow and arrows out of my bag!" Christian demanded.

I quickly did as I was told, trying to be calm the entire time. If I wasn't calm I would shake and probably drop something.

"Have you ever used a bow and arrow?" Christian asked.

"I practiced at Rachel's before and I guess I was okay," I replied nervously.

"You can do this. There are five of them and seven arrows," Christian a.s.sured me.

"Go ahead. Hit us!" Monica challenged with a laugh.

I tried to remember what Rachel taught me about shooting a bow and arrow. I held tightly to the arrow and pulled the string back as hard as I could. Pulling the string back was the hardest part sometimes, but with practice it always got easier. I aimed right between Monica's eyes and released the arrow, hoping I wouldn't miss.

The arrow swiftly plunged right between Monica's eyes, causing her to fall onto her back with a loud thud.

"You got her, that's good. Now get the others!" Christian said anxiously.

Before I got my next arrow in place, I heard Monica first snicker, and then her laughter increased little by little until it was at its maximum volume and obviously exaggerated.

"Nice try," Monica said, sitting up with the arrow still between her eyes.

Blood was slowly trickling down Monica's face where the arrow had pierced her skin. Monica stood up, not minding when the blood got in her eyes and mouth.

"The only way to kill us is to burn us," Monica said with a wicked smile.

I wasted the arrow. Monica and her army of zombies could still kill us. The only weapon we had now was six arrows and I didn't want to waste anymore. Then it hit me.

"Christian, your matches!" I exclaimed.

Christian gasped and quickly dug in his pocket for the packet of matches. He swiped the match across the matchbox's surface.

"Light the arrow," I said.

I pointed the tip of the arrow towards Christian and he used his lit up match to set the arrow on fire.

I quickly aimed the arrow at another zombie and released it. I had to do this as quickly as possible before the fire along the arrow reached my fingertips and scorched them.

I hit the male zombie right in his throat. The fire transferred from the arrow onto his body. He let out an ear piercing scream. I had no time to watch or listen though; one by one I repeated the same thing I had done before. Light arrow on fire, aim, and fire at zombie. I got them all, luckily, and I honestly didn't think I could. The last one came down to Monica.

Monica's band of zombies were screaming and slowly falling to their knees on the floor. I could smell their rotten flesh burning. It was the worst thing I had ever smelled. I couldn't even describe how foul the smell was. It was like ten skunks and ten dumpsters put together times one thousand. I knew the stench would remain in my nose for a few weeks or so.

I glared at Monica while Christian smirked. We knew we had won the battle. We almost hadn't, though. If we hadn't found the matches and the arrows we would have been dead.

"I was just kidding before. I don't even know what I'm doing here," Monica said, putting on her fake, crackling voice.

Christian shook his head and tsked as he lit the next arrow on fire for me. I quickly aimed it and pulled back as hard as I could.

"Wait, I want to do this one," Christian said. "Get her back for all the times I had to monitor her."

"Do you know how?" I asked.

"Well, I was watching you. I am confident that I can do it," Christian replied, taking the bow and arrow from me. "Plus...it's Monica and I refuse to miss."

With that Christian aimed the bow and arrow at Monica and pulled back as hard as he could. Monica screamed as the arrow pierced her right in her heart. The flames traveled along the arrow, quickly engulfing her body in its scorching heat.

One by one the bodies exploded into a b.l.o.o.d.y mess. Blood splattered onto us, along with pieces and chunks of flesh.

I shook off as much of the zombie's flesh and blood as I could. It smelled so foul. I felt bile rise in my throat and fought hard to keep from puking my guts up. It didn't work; the smell was too horrid for my stomach to handle and I violently vomited. I could hear Christian gagging and spitting. He was trying to keep from vomiting as well.

"This is so nasty," Christian groaned.

I caught my breath and spoke, "At least they're dead and we're alive."

Yes, we were alive...but for how much longer?

I KNOW MY FIRST NAME IS CLOSSIANA.

K.T. HENNESSY.

Dedicated to: This first publication is dedicated to my family. To my soulmate, Edoardo, my pillar, thank you for always believing in me, even when I didn't, you are the drum to my beat, and your love and support give me the courage to follow through with my crazy pa.s.sions. To my beautiful children, Lilyrose and Alessandro, you challenge me on so many levels and make me a better person, you are the air to my breath, may you always pursue your dreams.

Love Mom.

Author Info: Kimberly Hennessy graduated from Concordia University with a BSc in Psychology. She lives in Montreal Canada with her husband and two children. Her study of human nature has led to the pursuit of literature, theatre, and acting, but none as fascinating as writer.

To learn more of her upcoming screenplay, "A Shiner's War" please visit her website at http://www.kthennessy.com I Know My First Name is Clossiana My mother always taught me that everybody has a purpose. You know the kind of purpose that says you matter...

Myself, I just believed that we were part of some intricate web, no more special, no more singular than the next silk string, but all together part of a whole...that was before...before I was possibly the only survivor left of my kind.

Now, I don't know what to believe...

I open my eyes and it's dark as usual. The pit in my stomach immediately starts to swell and radiate all through my body.

Like an exercise routine, I replay my humdrum. "Breathe Ca.s.s, breathe"

"Don't be afraid. Be brave." I hear him say. His voice is so familiar, so soothing and safe, but who is - him? Who am - I? I know my first name is Clossiana, and I am not alone. I am not alone.

I manage to quell the fear inside me but in the back of my mind I know my supplies are depleted and I need to venture out, but the mere thought of leaving swoons every single one of my thoughts and makes my black blood curdle. Don't get me wrong, I'm going stir-crazy in here, wherever here is, and the smell, but all that fails in comparison to whatever's waiting for me outside. I don't remember much, just an overwhelming feeling of dread, but it's enough to ice my blood.

I woke up in this cave about three days ago - someone must have dragged me inside? They even went to the trouble of leaving me with a backpack of provisions a water bottles, matches that are too moist to use, and most importantly a gun, but I have no recollection of ever learning to use one. Its cold metal sends my mind in a spiral, and I've since abandoned any hope of using it.

The humidity has leached into my bones, and from what I can tell my body is covered in bruises, but worst of all is my leg a I think it's broken because any movement sends shock waves of acute pain to my brain. It has since receded into a type of numbing throb.

"s.h.i.t!" I lean against the rocky wall and my hearts start to flutter. "Be brave, Ca.s.s. Be brave."

How am I going to do this? I can hardly move, but I can't stay in here and starve to death. I listen carefully, not unlike every minute of every hour of every day since I've woken up in here, and still not a sound. It's worse really - I'd prefer the gunfire that keeps me up at night in my dreams, at least that would mean I wasn't alone.

"Go! Get up and go! Just do it!" My breathing is erratic and my palms are instantly sweaty a in a swift stretch I grab the gun, despite my reservations, and painstakingly crawl out towards the small hole. I am gasping for air and my body screeches for me to rest - the pain is unbearable but I don't stop, instead I quicken my pace, because if I stop, I die.

I finally reach the outside and with all my might I suck in as much air as my lungs can hold. The world's momentarily lopsided. I catch my breath as the pain subsides, and my fear takes over. Devastation! I can see for miles upon miles of decimation, and like a torrent of knives, I see flashes of dreadful images attack me. The raw memories come flooding in, and they paralyze me.

Cyaniris is leading the way. I yell for him to stop but he's squeezing my hand so hard I can't let go. He's running too fast for me and I'm tripping over everything. The air around us crumbles like dust pouring from the sky. Everything is gray and black. What is happening? I look up, and behind the heavy, grayish curtain of smoke and debris, the sky is ablaze. A faint glow engulfs us but the blistering fire is far from weak. I think my face is melting, and I quickly look down. I feel it now, weighing on me a the heat, the debris. squishing us like bugs. The pain is intense, but I trudge on a when I suddenly hear a CRACK. I ignore the sound and push forward, but fall flat on my face. One of my legs is broken, and the foot is completely askew. I panic, and reach down and put it back straight, but the pain is excruciating and I scream. It's too much...too much.

"Ca.s.s, baby, run! Don't stop now a Be brave, we're almost there..."

"I can't Cyan...my leg."

Cyaniris looks down at my leg as dread covers his face.

"It's too late - Cyan go...leave me... Go now!"

I see the shimmer in his eyes, and he'd rather die here with me than leave me behind. He picks me up and runs into the forest where we had found shelter months before. His entire body is covered in boils, but he won't stop. The forest has vaporized, and nothing is left but dust, except for the big boulder - it still stands, and he sprints towards it as though his wings could take flight.

"We made it, baby, we made it together like we knew we would. It's okay, baby, breathe - just remember to breathe. We'll be all right. We hold their secret."

I hear him talking but it's impossible to concentrate on anything but the pain, the sores on my skin, and my leg. It's all too much...and I fall unconscious.

I remember now! "Cyaniris!" I scream, but he doesn't answer. I go back inside the cave and frantically search every inch of the dark interior, hot tears pour down my face as I fight back the physical and emotional agony a "It's my Cyan. Baby, where are you?"

I finally touch his face, but he's unrecognizable, swollen beyond recognition, and I suddenly feel cold, like my body has just shut down. I fall over him. I know this is not what he would have wanted but I just can't bring myself to care, not anymore. In a moment of sheer terror I c.o.c.k the gun and put it in my mouth, my eyes are shut tight, as if not watching makes all this easier, and just when I'm about to pull the trigger and end this nightmare, I hear it - the sound of life, or something other than dead silence.

I gently pull the pistol out of my mouth and hold on to Cyan as though his mere presence can save me. He always had in the past. I don't see why in death that would be any different. I stop and listen.

Echoes of some foreign language burn in my brain...it's them...it's them...the aliens, I repeat the words frantically. What am I going to do? My hearts beat as though they will fracture out of my body, nothing but the swooshing sound of blood in my ears a so much so that I can't even hear if they are near or not.

Breathe, baby, breathe - you can do this, be brave.

They said they came in peace from their dying planet, Earth they called it, but Cyan was on to them from the start. He told me he didn't trust the humans and that I shouldn't either. I just thought he was being paranoid - we should have listened. I kiss Cyan and slowly drag myself to the opening and peek outside. The grim sky reveals that my arms are covered in welts, and my wings are all but nubs, but the adrenaline just kicked in, and the pain seems bearable. I look around my planet, my home, beautiful Cerberus destroyed, vacant, and ready for the plucking by those traitors. I hear the intruders - the soft sh.e.l.ls.

Ah! Soft sh.e.l.ls we called them, we thought they looked so vulnerable. They would have been such easy targets too in the beginning, small and puny with their soft, leathery skins, but they were smart...and peace was never their intention.

I glance to my left and I find the enemy, a team of five humans exploring the wasteland in anti-radiation suits, they're looking for something, but what? What was it that Cyan had said a "We have their secret."

Some distant memory flashes in my mind and I roll over onto my back, aim the gun inside the cave, and pull the trigger. A hologram emerges from my pistol inside the dark cave. It's the location of their vessel, hidden behind Little Ida, our third moon... "No, wonder we never detected their weaponry!"

This information is invaluable...I know what I need to do now - I need to survive and protect this information.

My mother always taught me that everybody has a purpose. You know the kind of purpose that says you matter...

My first name is Clossiana, but my friends call me Ca.s.s. I am a Cerbernara survivor, fighting the human invasion, and if you can hear this - you are not alone. You are not alone.

SAVE ME.

HEATHER KIRCHHOFF.

Dedicated to: My parents for letting me do this.

Author Info: Heather Kirchhoff lives in Higginsville, Missouri with her three parents, siblings, her guinea pig and two betas. She goes to Laffayette County C-1 High School, babysits and does odd jobs until she can get her first book published. Rich.e.l.le Mead, Alyson Noel and Stephenie Meyer inspired her to write.

You can connect with Heather at: http://www.facebook.com/HeatherKirchhoff Save Me I watched as smoke curled from the burning town, filling the sky with a dark grey. The firelight swelled as the flames rose higher and higher, causing gla.s.s to break, and people to scream. I felt my eyes go wide as I watched, amazed at what could do this. I couldn't look away from the scene.

There was a sudden explosion, the sound of something shattering. The thick smoke, now reaching me, brought tears to my eyes. I coughed once, twice. My chest hurt as I took a few deep breaths in, making me wince. My ears rang, my entire body itching to run, get as far as I could. I gasped as my flesh was scorched from the heat wave that now swept over me.

With my eyes straining, I quickly stood up, stumbling as I took off running through the dark, deserted town. I could barely see where I was going, but never stopped. I heard a few cries of alarm, loved ones yelling for each other. My own washed through my mind like rain overflowing a painting. Without my consent I remembered my family - my brother and sister, my parents - and almost faltered.

I was leaving them.

I couldn't believe it. I never even thought of them. But now they flooded my mind, causing me to come to a halt. How could I just leave them? They're my everything. Without them I'd be nothing.

My throat cried in protest as I swallowed, fear beginning to cling to me. I had to go back. I had to save them. I had to do something. I couldn't just go into hiding without making sure they were safe first. So I did the only thing I could.

I went back.

My feet pounded on the pavement as I ran along the roads, racing to my house. Racing to be a hero. I was short of breath by the time I got there, my heart hammering against my chest painfully, my whole body aching. I burst through the fiery door, instantly swept up in the hazardous smoke.

"Mom?" I called, slowly making my way deeper and deeper into the house. "Dad? Kaitlyn? Ricky? Where are you?" I fell silent, straining my ears to listen for any movement, but there was nothing. The place felt eerie, as if no one was home. I squinted as I made my way carefully along, my hand touching whatever it landed on. I was walking blindly and I didn't like it.

"h.e.l.lo?"

I glanced around but could only see the smoke. The crackle of the fire swarmed my ears, filling my head with a strange buzz. "h.e.l.lo?" I repeated. "Anybody here? Please, oh please, answer me!"

Nothing.

It was dead silent - no human noises at all.

Suddenly I was racked by coughs, my body shaking as I doubled over, working hard to get as low as possible. I attempted to hold my breath but it didn't work out so well. I had to breathe, especially with this situation. I leaned back against the wall, sliding to my knees as I did so. Nothing was right here. Where was my family?

A million questions worked their way into my head; all fighting for my attention, all demanding to be heard. I closed my eyes, letting myself be engulfed by the rapid fire that was quickly taking my house - and all of our memories. I made my mind go blank, clearing all of those aching memories of my family. Of my life.

I clenched and unclenched my fists. I tried to keep myself entertained, doing my best to make sure I don't freak out. What the h.e.l.l was I doing? I was a fighter. I never gave up. I never showed my weakness. But yet here I was sitting in a burning house. Why? Because I can't find my family? That's no reason to give up. I repeated that to myself again and again. The more I said it the more I was sure I was making a mistake.

With every intention of staying alive, I shakily stood up - only to fall back onto my knees. I cursed to myself silently while working to make sure my legs weren't numb. I had to get out. No, I needed to get out. The very least I could do is save myself, if not my family.

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Apocalypse: An Anthology Part 9 summary

You're reading Apocalypse: An Anthology. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Cynthia Shepp. Already has 452 views.

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