


Worse than Death

by Blithe Novelties



Category: Zombies, Run!
Genre: Angst, Hurt-Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-31
Updated: 2012-12-31
Packaged: 2013-08-16 10:12:46
Rating: T
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8859650/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/2419947/Blithe-Novelties
Summary: She clung to it, that predictability that the moon had; it was the only true stable thing she had these days...not to mention, it reminded her of simpler days, years before Abel and the other bases, years before she even thought that a zombie apocalypse was even possible; It reminded her of...home. (Sara-oneshot)





	Worse than Death

**AN: I decided to do a oneshot centered upon Sara, after completing Mission Three. Once more, if there is anything wrong, I apologize, as I am new to the fandom. Things worth mentioning are my headcanon about Sara and the night sky (revealed in the fic) and that Runner Five is female due to a choosing randomly.**

**Zombies, Run! belongs to its rightful owners.**

ZR! Worse than Death:

It was cold outside, winter slowly closing its icy grip around the ever growing base by the name of Abel. Not that it bothered Sara; the brisk air soothed her throat, made her cough a little less than she would have done, say, had she been inside of one of the compounds with several other residents...or rather, it used to.

Nowadays, she was coughing more than before, waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, gasping for air that just wouldn't reach her lungs despite her best efforts. No one, not even Maxine knew that her condition was beginning to plummet, and she wanted to keep it that way; the last thing that they needed was for more people to freak out over something that _really _wasn't a big deal, and end up a runner short for no damn good reason.

"Could be worse," she muttered between coughs. "Could be a zom..." Exhaling deeply as she ignored the itch in her throat, Sara glanced upwards; smatterings of stars decorated the sky, diamonds scattered across black velvet. A partially filled moon-more than a crescent but less than full-was gradually making its way across the sky.

"Waning gibbous." The runner spoke aloud, as if there were someone with her who has posed a question about the shape of the celestial being. It wouldn't be long until the new moon, the "no" moon as she had called it as a child, would reign throughout its heavenly kingdom, and soon after that, would it slowly increase in size, growing bigger until it was full once more. If there was one thing Sara enjoyed about the moon, it was its predictability, its stableness of the cycle it under went. Even on nights where visbility of the night sky to those on Earth was at its absolute worse, the moon still continued growing and shrinking, shrinking and growing.

She clung to it, that predictability that the moon had; it was the only true stable thing she had these days...not to mention, it reminded her of simpler days, years before Abel and the other bases, years before she even thought that a zombie apocalypse was even possible; It reminded her of..._home._

When she was younger, she had wanted to be an astronomer. From the time that she was three, until the day where she moved out of her parents' house, her dad had taken her outside (weather permitting) to sit and stare at the sky. He had known all of the constellations, taught her their names, and she repeated them back to him, enjoying the feel of the name rolling off her tongue. And he would nod, giving her an encouraging smile, before pointing at another, _"See that one, right over there? It's name is..."_

Tears began rolling down the young woman's cheek, and she felt sick with the hope that no one would see her like this, that her hardened reputation would not be ruined. Her parents, as far as she knew, were dead, just like her husband and her sons...or worse, had joined the zoms. All she had now were her stars and her moon to hold to, to remember them by; take them away, and it was a fate worse than death.


End file.
