"Be quiet, they’ll hear us…"
He buried his face in his arms to silent the quiet whimpers escaping him as footsteps slowly crept passed the cars they were hiding under. His body wracked with shivers that only increased when an arm that was meant to be comforting wrapped around his waist, his hand tightening its grip on the pistol he had been entrusted with. They wouldn’t stop. Why wouldn’t they stop? Step after step, the undead advanced, unaware of the feast that laid just inches away, motionless and scared, save for the brave few who managed to hold together their composure, like the one beside the nearly weeping teen who prayed to whatever higher powers existed that they would hurry the hell up. For now, however, he scooted closer, shook harder, and threw his shame to the wind in favor of basically clinging onto the other like a child.