AN: Hey guys! I've finished writing this story but I'm going to update it in increments anyways. It's 7 chapters in total and I'm hoping to upload 2 a week, but I'm going on a trip to Spain for the next two weeks, so it just depends on if I have wifi. I think I will though, so hopefully I'll still be able to update. Please review, they make me a happy author! :)

She was dead, and she knew it. Another five minutes maybe, and then the door would give and she'd have more than just these three deados to deal with; she'd have a whole swarm of them. She whirled and flung out her arm, driving the long screwdriver in her hand into a zombie's skull and then pulling it back to give her attention to the next one. Yeah, she was going down, but she was sure as hell going down swinging.

The second zomb didn't put up much of a fight either. His nails raked against her arm, but her leather jacket prevented him from actually scratching her. A roundhouse kick knocked him to the ground and then her steel-toed boot was through his face and the undead once again became just… dead. The third one came at her from behind, stumbling towards her with his mouth hanging wide open. It was only at the last second that she heard him and she screamed as she spun around before quickly driving the gore-coated screwdriver up through the roof of his mouth and into his brain. Instantly he dropped, and Skye finally had a moment to decide how she wanted to spend the next three minutes of her life.

She looked around at the empty room in which she stood… The walls were all white, except for the slashes of red that now coated them. The floor was linoleum tile, and the only light in the room came from the cracks between the boards on the single window. Skye went over and pulled the boards away from the glass. She was on the tenth floor of the building, and there was no fire escape. The window still might be her best way out though… Better to be dead than to be one of those things. She sighed and looked back at the wooden door on the other side of the room. The omnipresent banging was still there as the hoard outside tried to get in, and she could see the cracks starting to form as the door began to cave. Not much longer then.

Skye turned back to the window and broke the glass, knocking all the broken bits away from the edges. She swung one leg over the sill, then the other, and just sat there in the window frame. A drop of salted water trickled down her cheek. To be fair, she was lucky to have made it this far. Most of the population hadn't lived through the first week of the outbreak, and she'd made it the better part of a year.

Another thump on the door, and she actually heard the wood splinter that time. She prepared herself to push off the moment that the door broke down, despite the tears that were flowing freely down her face by then.

One more bang, a deep breath.

Another. This time she sobbed.

A third and…. Gunshots? Zombies didn't use guns.

Skye swallowed and took a shaky breath, quickly wiping the tears off of her face. The gunshots outside the door continued, and she quickly climbed back into the room. The door did break down just then, and two of the brainless freaks came into the room, but with her newfound hope driving her, she quickly threw her screwdriver at the first one like a knife, re-killing him before he even got halfway across the room. The other one she met with a grin. Her leather-clad hands grabbed the asshole's neck and she swung him around and then used his own weight to continue his velocity and throw him out the now-open window. She turned back to the door, expecting another wave of attackers, but instead found a tall, handsome guy standing there, eyebrows raised in shock.

"Thanks for saving my ass" she laughed. The shock of the situation was starting to set in now, and with shock usually came a bit of hysteria. Fortunately, she was a laugher, not a crier, when it came to hysterics. Then again, pretty much everyone these days was a hysterical laugher. Laughers could get shit done. All of the criers were dead. "I'm Skye" she added, after taking a deep breath to settle herself.

"T-K."

"Really? T-K? That's the name your parents gave you?"

"No, that's the name I took on when the world went to shit. 'Grant Douglas Ward' doesn't really sound like the name of someone who's going to kick some zombie ass, now does it?"

"So why T-K?"

"Stands for T-1000. It's a nickname I had, once upon a time…"

"Well, Grant, we need a bit of normality in this world. I don't think that Skye necessarily sounds like the name of someone who kicks zombo ass, but clearly I do, so…."

"Right well, it doesn't really matter what our names are, or how much ass we kick, I've cleared this floor and the lower ones, but there are still more upstairs and I'd imagine my gunshots have probably got them on their way here, so we should probably get going…"

"Agreed." Skye crossed the room and grabbed her screwdriver out of the corpse's head, wiped it on the freak's shirt, and then stuck it back in her pocket before following him out the door.

"A screwdriver?" Grant asked.

"Weapon of opportunity. It's served me well though, and I haven't found anything better yet."

"Right, well, you've got my back for a bit, so I'd rather you have a bit more than a screwdriver to defend us with…"Grant replied. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a handgun, then reached down to his ankle and grabbed a knife that was strapped to it. He passed them both over, and Skye nodded gratefully before stashing them on her person.

They ran towards the stairs and Skye figured that they were going down, but instead Grant started to run up.

"Hey T-K, aren't you going the wrong way?"

"I just have to grab one thing, it's on the next floor. I was on my way up there when I heard your scream. I took a detour but now I gotta get back on track. You can wait here if you want."

"No way, I'm coming with you."

Grant nodded, then continued up the stairs, taking them two at a time, with Skye right on his tail. When they got up to the next floor, they opened the door just a crack and peeked through. It was clearly an office, with rows of desks everywhere. The scanned the room for any movement, and fortunately there were only two zombs that they could see. Grant raised his gun but Skye laid a hand on his arm and shook her head. She pulled out the knife he had given her and grabbed another one out of the sheath on his thigh. She winked at him quickly, then stepped into the room. The halfwits didn't even have a chance to notice her before she threw one knife, then the other, taking out the both of them while barely crossing the threshold.

"Come on" she told him. "Get what you need." Grant nodded and hurried past her. He raced down the aisle between the desks, the abruptly stopped at one and started rummaging through the drawers. Meanwhile, Skye went over to the things she had just killed and retrieved her weapons, once again using the victim's own clothing to clean off her blades.

"I got it, let's go" Grant called. Skye looked over and saw him doing up the button on one of his cargo pant pockets before he headed back to the door which lead to the stairs. She jogged over and followed him, and this time they actually did begin the descent.

When they got down the stairs and to the front door of the building, they quickly scanned the street out front. Nothing seemed to be moving, but they both knew that that could change in an instant.

"Come on, my ride's just down the block" Grant told her. He quickly led the way outside, and they jogged along the empty sidewalk. Both of them hated being so exposed for so long, but they didn't have much choice. The rounded the corner and Grant jogged over to a cherry red jeep.

"Really? Ostentatious much?" Skye asked.

"Hey, she's fast, functional, and she's my baby. Don't poke fun."

"Alright, I won't. She got a name?"

"Lola."

Skye smiled but opened the passenger door and climbed into Lola none the less.