A World Fallen

this over with.” the sternness in her voice is off putting and almost surprising. This is a customary reaction to the short fighter.
“Kill her.” the Adapted commands.
The two circle around Rosaline, placing themselves at her sides. She moves closer to the stump. Their pace picks up as they begin to close in. She lunges the weaker one kicking its knee, then bashing the hammer against its head. The diseased hits the ground hard. The other infected grabs the back of her shirt, right at the collar. She ducks underneath its arm and spins around to face it, causing the clutching hand to twist in her shirt, then, with all her might, she plunges the knife under its chin.
The hilt slams into its jawline and the grip on her loosens. It begins to fall forward onto her, but she spins back to her original position, freeing the gripping hand, and allowing the body to fall past her. She slams the claw end of the hammer into the stump, leaving the head facing upright.
The Adapted is already charging, having seen the battle is being lost. Rosaline flips the knife so the blade is against her forearm and waits until the attacker is close enough, then the tiny warrior moves forward, abruptly dropping to one knee and slicing the leg of the Adapted. She follows up by stabbing the knife through its foot and deep into the ground. The monster screams in frustration.
Rosaline turns back to the bald one, who is just now attempting to get up, and kicks it in the head, knocking it back down. She whips around to face the Adapted again, takes the small little run that their close proximity allows, and launches her foot directly into the back of its head, slamming it down hard onto the hammer, disorienting the beast.
Rosaline puts her foot on the neck of the Adapted and slams down onto the hammer, again and again, until movement has ceased. She retrieves her knife and stabs the bald one in the back of the head, ending its second attempt at regaining footing.
Rosaline exhales blowing a strand of her raven hair out of her face, her tanned brown skin glistening with sweat. She shouts out in Mikey’s direction.
“Let’s go! We need to move, now!”
Mikey grabs the backpack and jumps up from the ground. He jogs out of the brush and into the small clearing.
“You’re a showoff!” he says.
“Gotta stay frosty.” she replies with a half grin.
Mikey’s stomach growls, “I’m tired! And hungry!” he moans.
“I know buddy. We’ll set up camp soon. Just need to find good cover.” she reassures him.
She cuts a large piece of cloth from the shirt the diseased is wearing and cleans the knife and hammer with it. She re-sheaths her knife, then places the hammer in the backpack, and puts the goggles and gloves in the front compartment. Mikey takes her hand, his eyes twinkle as he looks up at his caretaker.
“Why couldn’t we wait for them to go away?” he softly wonders.
“You know why.”
“Yeah.”
“Tell me.”
He sighs, “Never take chances.”
“That’s right. We didn’t know the Adapted were here and if we waited for them to pass the Adapted could’ve followed us and surprised us.”
“We don’t like surprises.”
She crouches to his level placing her hands on his arms, “Hey, we’re gonna be okay.”
“I know. You always keep us safe.”
“We keep each other safe. Come here.” -she pulls him into her, hugging him tightly- “I couldn’t do this without you.” she affectionately says.
She brushes her hand on his cheek, smiling as she takes in the beauty and innocence of this little boy. Growing up in a world like this isn’t easy, and it certainly hasn't been for either of them. This kid won’t be allowed to be a child for as long as he should be. She wasn’t. She does her best to balance teaching him how to survive while still allowing him to be young and immature.
She often wonders what it was like to have a family and raise children before the world was lost. What was there to worry about? Kids could play freely in yards without the possibility that a diseased would get them. They could go to school and learn, they slept in beds, and watched that Television thing her mother told her about.
She doesn’t even know what Television is, not really. The concept seems so arbitrary to her. Watching people play pretend on a screen? Why? She supposes it’s like books that you can see. She does enjoy reading, but ever since she’s had Mikey there hasn’t been time for her to let her guard down long enough to read anything.
“Come on, it’ll be dusk soon. Let’s hope the excitement for the day is over.” she says with a grin.
She takes his hand and rises back upright. The two wanders exit the small-clearing-turned-impromptu-battlefield without a second glace back. This world is chaos and terrifying every second, but at least they’re alive. So, there’s that.

CHAPTER TWO
Kylie Lincoln sits on the chair in her living room watching her toddler, Patrick, play. His yellow Tonka truck firmly gripped in one hand and a random Lego in the other. The two year old is happy and free. “Oh, to be a child again.” Kylie thinks, a loving smile upon her face, watching the product of her and Markus’ love.
There’s nothing in the world she cares for more than her family, but a part of her does long for the days when bills and responsibilities were unfathomable. For the times when her biggest worries were plans for the weekend.
She does not regret the life she lives now, but she does wonder what could’ve been. She is young, only twenty-two, and already started a family. Sure, back in the fifties this was the norm, but it’s not the fifties. All of her friends go out every weekend and party, they travel, and they act young. Maybe she could travel, but time off work for her and her husband, and all the