I couldn’t trust a man ever again. Not after tonight. He got what he deserved from that Roamer. I could still hear his screams as the Roamer gnawed at his face, Sonny and his men trying to free him. I could still feel his breath too, on the back of my neck. It was hot and sticky, and its stale aroma floated to my nose. I had no other choice but to hit him the way I did. I had to protect Falon; I had to protect myself. I’m pretty sure his scream is what attracted the Roamer, or maybe it was his blood. Whichever it was, it doesn’t matter now, because he’s dead: where he should have been all along. I’d have been happy to sign his death certificate: “Monty’s time of death: February 11, 2016, 1:35 A.M.”  

“Kaylie, are we almost there?” Falon cried. I squinted at her through the snow.

“Just a few more blocks,” I said. As I talked, dirty snow got in my mouth, but I didn’t dare open it again to spit it out. I knew if Ron was here, he would definitely say something funny to make me feel stupid about swallowing snow. I wish I knew where he was; I missed him. He should have never run off with that crowd. He knew we needed to make it to Grandma’s house together, but I guess he wasn’t thinking. Now he’s probably gone like everybody else.

We’d been walking for hours. My feet were sore and my legs ached. My fingers were well past frost-bitten, even though I had on the thickest pair of snow gloves I could find. I knew Falon was tired because she’s carried her heavy bags on her back the whole trip. I told her she should alternate hand carrying them for a while, but she’s so stubborn. I could tell that her only focus right then was making it to Grandma’s house… alive. I don’t blame her.

Just when I was about to say something to her again about her bag, I smelled that God-awful rotten-garbage smell. It had to be one of two things: damp, snow-covered rotten trash, or a Roamer. It couldn’t be number one, because I knew Grandma’s trash man always came on Wednesdays. I stopped cold in my snow tracks. I grabbed Falon by the arm and held her close. She shrieked.

“Shhh! I smell something.” I covered her mouth lightly, careful not to give her a new snow beard. I moved the flashlight frantically all around us, trying to figure out where the smell was coming from. I couldn’t see anything but snow and tipped over trashcans.

“Maybe it’s just an old trashcan.” I whispered. I eased my grip on the flashlight, stopping the violent shaking my nerves were causing it. I let go of Falon finally, and she grabbed my hand tight. She barely understood what was going on, and I knew she was terrified. I squeezed her little hand to comfort her.

“We’re almost there, Falon.” I said to her.

“Okay.” She said in a small whimper.

I could see Grandma’s house in the distance; all the way up the hill. This was the homestretch. Finally we would be safe, Grandma would give us food and warm us up, and we would be safe. We would have nice big quilt blankets and hot cocoa with mini marshmallows for days. I remember when I was about Falon’s age; the only child then. Grandma and I used to make gingerbread men in the kitchen. I loved to bake with her; she was the best at it. We always used to bite off their heads first, and make them walk around like headless little gingerbread-zombie things. It would be so funny to me, and I don’t even know why. After we’d had fun being gingerbread man killers, she would take me by the fireplace and quietly sing me the same German song over and over while I drunk hot cocoa. I never understood what it meant, but it sounded nice. That big fireplace was the thing I looked forward to the most. There was something about it that made Grandma’s house feel so snug, so complete. 

I got so caught up in my thoughts that I didn’t realize anything else around me. I didn’t notice the horrid smell growing stronger. Falon was clenching my hand so tight I felt it going numb. She started screaming, and I jumped out of my trance.

“Kaylie! Kaylie, help me!” My heart skipped a beat as I felt her hand slip out of mine in an instant. I eagerly turned the flashlight in her direction, and I saw her backpack being ripped apart by a hungry Roamer.

“Falon!” I ran after her in the nearly knee-deep snow. I tried to grab her hand, but our gloves were too slippery. I grabbed her arm and tried to pull her into me, but the Roamer was putting up a mean fight of Tug-a-War. I yanked and yanked at her arm, trying to free her more than hurt her, but it was no use. The Roamer had a grip on her backpack with both her arms in the loops. It grabbed her long ponytail, jerking her head backwards until I could see the throat bones in her neck. Tears strolled down her ruby red cheeks as she screamed in utter terror.

“This can’t be happening. I can’t lose my little sister. She needs me.” I kept thinking. My eyes were starting to swell up with tears, but I quickly held them back; I wasn’t going to give up that easily. I was going to try my best to save the only piece of humanity I had left. I needed to save my little sister.

I let go of her arm for a few seconds, and ran around to the Roamer. It was a woman; probably in her mid-sixties. She had long brown hair, and glasses that were cracked and crooked. Her face had hints of heavy blush makeup, which made her somewhat more bearable to look at. She was wearing a battered pink, long sleeve blouse with a small, cut out heart at the neck, and black sweatpants. She had on dirty damp slippers with socks to match. Around her wrist was a familiar-looking gold charm that had the word family engraved in it. I looked back at her face in shock and now complete utter terror as I watched her be silent in her efforts to kill my sister. I grabbed her bone-like arm, and slimy skin fell from it, some clinging to my glove. I almost vomited at the sight. She didn’t budge, and I started to panic. Then I heard Falon’s incredulous scream, and my heart sank. The woman bit her. She continued to bite her and tear her skin, and Falon continued to scream. I couldn’t take it. I panicked, and didn’t know what else to do. I shut my eyes tight. I was so scared I felt like my stomach was about to turn inside out. My sister is another Roamer’s meal, and I might as well be next. I cried through the cold, squeezing my eyes until the lids felt like they would tear, then I heard a loud pop and two thuds in the snow. There was silence.

I shook, frightened for what would happen next. After I heard nothing for a few seconds, I peeled open my eyes and saw the Roamer and Falon lying on the ground; both lifeless. I raced over to Falon, pushing the Roamer off her. The side of her face was gushing dark red blood, and she was completely pale, almost as white as the snow. I grabbed her head gently and lifted it up, looking into her face. I cried my eyes out as soon as I touched her soft little forehead. My little sister was dead. I couldn’t save her. I had nothing left.

I cried for what felt like 5 minutes until I felt a large cold hand on my shoulder. I jumped back, accidently dropping Falon’s head on the snowy concrete ground.

“I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to scare you.” The person held their hands out as if surrendering. In one of their hands was a pistol. I couldn’t see their face, only a dark silhouette in the pitch black night. My heart jumped, afraid of who might be behind that voice. It sounded deep; it had to be a man. But it sounded young; he couldn’t be much older than me. I sighed a breath of relief though, for I hadn’t heard another person’s voice – or actually seen another living person besides Falon - in about 5 hours. It was somewhat comforting to know that I wasn’t the only one left to deal with this chaos. I looked back and realized I was backed against the Roamer’s lifeless body. I jumped up and nearly knocked over the man standing next to me. He grabbed my shoulders to steady me.

“Are you okay?” He said. I looked up at him; I still couldn’t make out his face clearly, but he was tall. I looked down at Falon, then the Roamer, and back to him.

“No, I’m not okay. My grandmother just killed my little sister.”