"Chicago? Chicago wake up, please!" Little Rock nudged the older girl's shoulder. Blood was starting to trickle down Chicago's head. Oh God, what if she was dead? Little Rock needed help. But what was she supposed to do, just leave her there and get help?

Little Rock knew she had to leave Chicago to get help. Mind racing, she hurriedly drug Chicago off of the road, into the woods. Soon, she had the taller girl's body covered with leaves and sticks. "I'll be back soon, I promise." Little Rock told the unconscious teenager.

The 12 year old picked up the discarded shotgun up off of the road and then placed the crowbar next to Chicago, in case she woke up. Slinging the gun over her shoulder, she began jogging towards the house.

After 15 minutes of straight sprinting, the house finally came into Little Rock's view. She was exhausted, possibly close to throwing up, and covered in sweat. And frankly, didn't care if she made too much noise. "CHRISTA!" She shouted, using all of the air in her lungs. In a couple of seconds, her big sister was out the door with her pistol drawn.

"What's wrong?" Wichita asked, running towards her panting sister. The girl was doubled over, exhausted from running so hard.

"We got attacked-gasp-ran out of ammo-gasp-I hit her with the gun-gasp-she's unconscious." Little Rock managed to pant out. Her sister's eyes widened as she ran a hand comfortingly on her back.

"Columbus! Stay with Wichita. Tall, grab a gun and come with me!" Wichita shouted at the house. Immediately both men came running out of the house.

"Where is she?" Wichita asked the still panting girl. Little Rock finally stood up from her leaned over position.

"When you go out of the driveway, take a left. Just follow the road straight. She'll be on the left hand side under some leaves. There's a crowbar beside her." Little Rock explained quickly.

"Where did the gun hit her?" Wichita questioned, wondering if they were going to have to deal with a brain dead teenager.

"Her forehead. She was bleeding a lot, but it was an accident, I swear!" Little Rock's voice cracked and she was starting to tear up.

"I know hun. We're going to go get her, don't worry." Wichita told her little sister, kissing her on the forehead. Little Rock nodded.

"Let's go." Wichita said, turning to Tallahassee. He nodded anxiously and both of them began running down the road.

"She can't be much farther than this. Look for the crowbar." Wichita said between deep breaths. They had been running for a while now, scanning the sides of the road for any sign of the unconscious teenager.

A couple minutes later, Tallahassee caught sight of a crowbar. "There." He pointed it out to Wichita, who nodded. Both adults hurried towards the now visible pile of leaves.

Keeping careful, Tall and Wichita looked over their shoulders as the brushed the leaves off of Chicago's body. "She's got a pulse." Tallahassee said, putting his fingers to the girl's neck.

"Chicago, can you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you can hear me." Wichita said, taking one of the girl's hands. She got no response.

"We're going to have to carry her back." Wichita said, standing up. She winced as she saw the large cut and bruise on Chicago's forehead.

"I've got her." Tallahassee said, scooping the girl up in his arms. Her arms hung limply, swinging as he walked.

It took at least 20 minutes for the three of them to make it back to the house. Little Rock and Columbus sat on the porch, waiting for their return. As soon as they saw them coming up the driveway, both of them ran out to meet them.

"Is she okay?" Little Rock asked immediately, taking in Chicago's appearance.

"We don't know." Wichita replied, running a hand through her hair.

Tallahassee carried Chicago into the house, with the others following close behind, and walked up the stairs with her. He gently placed her on her bed and stepped back.

"Alright, we need medical stuff. Little Rock, there's a first aid kit under the sink in the kitchen. Go get it. Tall, do you have that little flashlight on you?" Wichita immediately began giving out orders. Tallahassee nodded and reached into his pocket, withdrawing a small black flashlight. Wichita took it and clicked it on. She opened one of Chicago's eyes and shined the light in.

"Her pupils are dilating, so there's a good chance she doesn't have brain damage." Wichita said, turning the flashlight off and handing it back to Tallahassee.

Little Rock returned shortly with the first aid kit and gave it to her sister. She stepped back from the bed and held a hand to her mouth. Tallahassee wrapped an arm around her and squeezed her shoulder, a silent signal that it was going to be okay. She leaned against him and took in a shaky breath.

"Can everyone just give me some space here?" Wichita said irritably as she rooted through the first aid kit. Everyone stared at her in surprise, but then left the room reluctantly.

"Come on kid, wake up." Wichita said softly, wetting a piece of gauze with anti-septic. The girl didn't so much as stir as the gauze was pressed to her bloodstained forehead.

Wichita spent the next couple minutes wiping the dried blood from Chicago's face and patching up the large cut on her head. A huge bruise had formed, blackening her forehead.

The older girl sighed as she packed up the first aid kit. If she was in one of those comas where you get hit once and then never wake up again….what was she going to tell Little Rock? And even if Chicago did wake up, she was going to have a killer headache and it was going to take a while to recover. Maybe she should have just let her walk out this morning.

So that was interesting. And kind of sad. Oh well, every story needs its fillers. I really do apologize for not updating sooner. Life is crazy. But I do have a good excuse…..I've been training to run a 5k in which zombies chase you.