The Dead Don't Bleed: Part 2, The Aftermath by S. Ganley

had been able to retain a top notch divorce attorney who had earned his fee by ensuring that her ex was awarded full custody of their son on top of most of their mutual savings and possessions. Shellie had walked away from the entire process broke, homeless and with only visitation rights for her son. To add insult to injury her ex had quickly packed up their home, sold off most of their possessions and moved up to New York to be closer to his family. She had been struggling just to feed herself from day to day and had relied on the kindness of friends to put her up for a couple weeks until she was able to afford the down payment on a small apartment. Ever since then she had put aside every penny she could from each paycheck to save up enough for bus fare and lodging to visit her son whenever possible. She had recently learned that her ex was dating again and that his new girlfriend had two children of her own. On her last visit with her son her ex had approached her with a proposal about letting their son come and live back in Virginia with her full time. His excuse had been that their son just wasn't adjusting well to his new school and their home and that he constantly asked to move back in with her. While she suspected it had much more to do with her ex just wanting to get on with his new life and not be burdened with the task of being a single father any more, she really didn't care how it played out, getting her son back home with her was a dream come true. They had planned on working out the details during her next visit at the end of the month. Ever since then she had busied herself with turning the single bedroom in her small apartment into a boys room in anticipation of her sons return while she would take the couch and they would share closet space. Unfortunately the world had other plans for her, the zombie apocalypse had no sympathy for her plight. While she continued to hold out hope that the entire outbreak was only an isolated incident and that her son was alive and well and just waiting for her a few hours away in New York, Kyle could tell that deep down she really knew the truth. The odds of her son being one of the precious few who had managed to stay alive so far were extremely slim. She had soaked Kyle's shirt sleeve with her tears on three separate occasions while talking about it with him. He had tried to find a way to console her during those times, but giving her any sense of false hope was just not something he was willing to do. If he somehow managed to convince her that everything would turn out ok and that her son was alive and well and just waiting for her to come and deliver him from all the madness surrounding them; she would never recover once the reality actually hit her that none of that was true. He didn't want to be on the receiving end of her hysterics when that finally sank in with her, so he opted to say nothing and to try and talk to her about other things to take her mind off her sons fate. Another thing that he had learned about her was that she was one hell of a tough woman. He had discovered that the day he met her when she had grabbed the shotgun from his patrol car and as smooth and effortlessly as a seasoned soldier had stood her ground against a wave of zombies and knocked them down like bowling pins. Since then she had also been making the best of their meager living conditions and pulling her weight in terms of helping to care for Kimberly and any other duties that came up. She would often join Kyle when it was his shift on guard duty and sacrifice what little sleep any of them were really getting to keep him company as he strolled a wide perimeter around their refuge.
    "If she wakes up and starts yelling again you are going to need to put a hand or something over her mouth." Kyle informed her. He hated to have to put it to her like that, but if it came down to it they just might be forced to end her suffering in order to prevent her from inadvertently putting the rest of them