MARY ZAHNISER - SURVIVE

Mary Zahniser is an aspiring writer aiming to weave her stories for potential use by television studios. A long time fan of serial television shows and web series, she has always dreamt about contributing her ideas to the shows that she loves. She has dabbled in a variety of styles including, but not limited to, Science Fiction, Fantasy, Psychological Horror, Romance, and Comedy. Mary has the unique ability to adapt to almost any sort of genre or story line.
Currently she is studying as an undergraduate at Full Sail University to sharpen her writing skills. She has been writing since the age of twelve. She started on her own, simply writing fan fiction about her favorite shows, but began to branch out into her own stories. She still enjoys writing fan fiction and participating in collaborative writing sessions online with other writers. Her goal is to one day work for a major television studio or web series producer.
Mary currently resides in Lawton, Oklahoma and works a full time job while continuing her schooling. She can best be reached in the evening by email,mkzahniser@gmx.com or mkzahniser@student.fullsail.edu. 

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​SURVIVE

The dark circles around Sam’s eyes were getting worse. He hadn’t slept in days in fear that if he did, he would not wake up. The virus would take him eventually, he knew that. However, that was not his concern. He could see her out of the corner of his eye, sitting there on the bed, blanket pooled at her waist. She, too, looked worn. A dark streak tainted her porcelain skin now, indicating that the virus had progressed sometime in the night. She had attempted to hide the mark under dark strands of hair, but to no avail.
         “It’s gotten worse…” Sam said as he shuffled into the room, moving his hand to her forehead. Her skin was like fire, but somehow, she seemed content. “I should get you some water.” Her hand snapped up, grabbing his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. “Kimiko—” Her lips parted to speak, but before she could utter a single word, there was a knock at the door. Sam’s eyes shot towards the window, body tensing. No one was supposed to know they were here.
         “Samuel…” she mumbled, voice weak. With a soft sigh, he moved his other hand over hers, gently grasping it. Steadily, she released him and allowed him to move away.
         “Just wait here a moment,” he said, eyes still darting between her and the window. There was an intense fear building the closer he got to the door. Had they finally come to take them away? With Kimiko’s progression, it would mean certain death for her. He might survive, but he knew she wouldn’t. This thought caused him to hesitate, hand positioned over the handle of the door. With a deep breath, he pulled the door open, preparing for the worst.
         However, the worst never came. Instead Sam was met with a cold gust of wind, causing him to snap his eyes shut for a moment. “—Hello?” he called out, squinting against the blinding snow as he glanced around. Had he been mistaken? Had there even been a knock? Sighing, he moved to shut the door, stopping only when he caught a glimpse of a small black box positioned on the concrete wall. He hesitated for just a second before snatching it up and shutting the door.
         “Sam? –What’s going on?” he heard Kimiko ask, causing him to tense again. His eyes stayed fixed on the small box with a note taped neatly on the top that simply said ‘Survive.’ Taking another deep breath, Sam closed his eyes, calling out to Kimiko.
          “It was nothing. Just some kids playing pranks,” he said, shaking his head as he shuffled to the kitchen, setting the box on the counter. “I’m gonna cook something for you, just gimme a moment,” he added, staring at the box. After another moment, he pulled the top off, revealing two syringes filled with a vibrant blue substance. “—Shit.”
           His first though went to a cure. His second, however, went to the virus. What if this was a trick? What if this was the virus. “But why would it say survive, stupid,” he said to himself, rolling his eyes. Without a thought, he pulled one of the syringes out, making for the room, but stopping just at the hallway. He could save her. He could save them both. But—even if he did, the virus would still be out there. They could still get infected again. They could still die.
           Take it to the CDC. Have them make a cure for everyone. Blue eyes settled on the syringe. There were two. One clearly meant for Kimiko and the other for himself. She wouldn’t survive the time it would take to synthesize and manufacture the cure. He could—well, maybe. Hopefully.
          It was decided. He’d save her. She had to survive. So without another thought, he moved into the room, settling beside her and taking her arm. “Don’t move,” he said, looking up at her. He could see the fear and confusion in her eyes, causing his stomach to tighten. “Please don’t look at me like that,” he said, quickly administering the vaccine.
         “W—What is this? Is this the cure?” she asked, her eyes wide as she sat up. “What about you?” With a soft smile, he moved his hand to her face, brushing strands away, the dark lines already beginning to fade.
         “Everything’s gonna be okay. I promise.” Quickly he stood and moved to the door. He would survive and now, so would the world. 
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