Stop Surviving Start Fighting Novels & Stories

I can feel myself ѕtаrt to раѕѕ оut. I fight hаrd to rеmаіn соnѕсіоuѕ, dеѕріtе thе раіn. I have to ѕtау аwаkе if I wаnt to survive thіѕ. I hear the ѕnар оf a bоnе that I thіnk іѕ mу rib. I refuse tо сrу out. I tаkе еvеrу blоw thаt she dіѕhеѕ оut іn ѕіlеnсе. It hаѕ tо stop еvеntuаllу. “Wе wоn’t mеѕѕ with that pretty lіttlе fасе, though. Will wе, mіѕѕу?”

Which either means Jimmy is overconfident…or I’m too late. A horrific cry of “ROCCO” shatters the quiet, silencing Troy and Jacob’s muttered conversation and sending my wolf into action. I kick my shoes off as the rest of my body begins to shift. Quickly my limbs elongate and strengthen, rippling muscle and brown fur overtaking as I adapt to my stronger form. My teeth are quickly extended and snapping, ready to fight. Without even waiting for Troy or Jacob I set off through the woods. She is alive, she can be saved. Even if it takes my life.

The zombie swarm broke through the last line of defense. The chopper closed its door and took off, carrying with it whatever survivors it managed to save. My teammates did not catch the final flight, and they cursed. "Yvonne, you madwoman! You just destroyed our only chance at survival! And that idiot! A guitar? You went all the way back right before the retreat just to get a guitar? You think anyone's interested in your performance?" The curses wouldn't stop coming, and my teammates' fury drained Yves of all color he had. If looks could kill, he'd be more shredded than a pack of shredded cheese.

To, to believing anyway. I put my hand on my belly. Felt movement. Felt life. Felt, felt Chance. My son. Who was struggling already. Who was compensating already. Who was fighting already. Before he was even born. "You're a fighter," I whispered. "Just like your mama. Just like, like all of us. You're a fighter and you're going to make it. You're going to, you're going to survive this. Survive the birth. Survive the surgery. Survive, survive everything. Because you're ours. And we don't give up. We fight. Even when fighting seems pointless. Even when the odds are bad. We fight anyway. That's, that's who we are. Who you are. Fighters. Survivors. People who, who refuse to let bad outcomes win.

She was fighting to survive. To Be Continued…

Still alive. Still fighting.

And this time, I wouldn’t fight for survival. I’d fight for love. And that made me unstoppable.

I looked around at the other squads that were still in sight, none of them seemed to be struggling like this. "We need to learn to fight together. I understand tomorrow probably has everyone on edge and considering our squads will be at the center of it all I'm sure no one wants to be on our squad. I get it. However I can promise you that once I am able to do my job and stop Elstan the others of Deep Ridge will stop fighting. He has destroyed my pack and hurt so many. Those who will fight for him tomorrow are only doing so for survival." I said placing an arm on Dominics shoulder.

~NIGHT OF THE RITUAL~ I rise to my feet slowly, forcing my breathing to steady. I may not remember who I was, but the fact that I survived death means something. It means I fought. It means I don’t break easily. Whatever I’ve lost, whatever was taken from me, the instinct to survive is still here, sharp and unyielding. I just have to endure. Long enough for my memories to return, and to understand what I’ve been thrown into.