roll off the top of them and land feet first, not a scratch. ‘Oh you are good' my giddy expression vanished when I looked up to the hungry faces staring at me.
“Right… Shit.” The first few went to move for me but were stopped by the body of my now two time saviour squishing them.
‘Run you idiot!’ My feet were already ahead of me before another thought smacked me in the face, “The truck!” I spun around, it was surrounded, but I needed a gun.
As I was formulating how to get into the truck a zed dragged itself out from around the corner. Even with his destroyed face and mangled body, legs snapped and contorted into bizarre angles, he was still recognisable “Kyle… I’m so sorry.”
He snarled and I could see the others moving for me. Most seemed to only just be coming acquainted with their bodies. As if nothing from the past however many years had happened and they were children once more.
‘Cannibalistic children’ I quickly reminded myself as I darted for the truck and jumped into the back, slamming the doors behind me.
There was a gap in between the front seats to the cabin, the air conditioner was on, I was driving out of there. I scrambled through the back and reached the driver seat, where a growling business woman greeted me.
“My truck, get off it.” I kicked her off the driver seat, slammed the door shut and drove. “Lucy?” Still nothing, whatever was in the sky was disrupting the connection.
I sped around the corner, people running everywhere, cars crashing. Someone ran in front of me and started waving frantically before getting tackled. I immediately felt an intense feeling of jealousy of the people in movies who were in comas when this stuff was happening. Sure they woke up in burnt out Hell, but that must feel better than being at the part where the flames had just crackled to life.
I turned on the radio, no emergency broadcast, same as Lucy, there was nothing, just the screams and roars that surrounded me. A bus tore past, and spun out in front of me. I had no way of avoiding the crash and as I ploughed into it a sniper rifle came launching out from behind me and into the bus.
Something went bang and fizzled in the engine as I grabbed around for a gun behind me. Instead I scooped up the whole duffel bag and jumped out of the cabin. The thick scent of blood rushed up my nostrils, I felt like a shark in a pool surrounded by bleeding paralysis patients.
I do apologise for my animalistic characteristics, but I’m still essentially a monster. A good old fashion boogey man.
A zed made for my arm before I slammed its head in the door. I surveyed the area and noticed a park next to me. I slung my duffel over the top of my back pack.
“Help me!” A high pitch and highly displeasing teeny voice called. I turned to the sound and a young woman running toward me locked in my field of vision. Her arms flailing with her handbag banging against her side, her pink heels clinking and slipping on the wet road as her denim short-shorts restricted her movement.
“What’s wrong?” I peered over her shoulder when she reached me, a small group of zombies was pursuing her.
“They attacked me!” The sound of her voice actually kind of hurt, I noticed some blood dripping from her arm.
“What’s that?”
She lifted her arm, a large wound, red and raw, “One of them bit me, so what? Bigger problems!”
She gestured to the zombies who were now around fifty feet off, “Not really… I’m guessing you don’t watch much TV.”
Her bright green eyes shining with tears but definitely combating between anger and sadness, “Just help me! You have to help me!”
I shook my head, “I don’t, and, I’m really sorry for this, I won’t. Run.” Her face drooped and she clicked off away.
Yeah, I should’ve comforted her or something. Maybe I could’ve helped, given her hope, but she was dead anyway and I sure as Hell wasn’t going to reach Kate if I was dead. That, and opening my bag in the rain didn’t seem too bright.
I ran for the park, if I could climb a tree I’d be safe… er, just until I could properly figure out where to go. My hair was matted and getting stuck in my eyes, which was only exacerbated by the rain which was only getting heavier.
A gunshot rang through the hubbub of roars and the declining screams, the zeds had dominated.
I reached a tree and climbed high, the fear of spiders subverted by the fear of being de-limbed, finding a wide branch I sat, cradled in the joint between the trunk and branch.
Relaxing was proving difficult as the undead sprinted past my tree and into the street, I pulled off the duffel and unzipped it, feeling pretty safe in the shade and relative cover of the tree. One rifle, single fire bolt action, five boxes with twenty rounds a piece. Some may have rolled out. A few .44 rounds, no gun to match but that was more than enough to get out, probably.
I opened my backpack, rope was gone, but I still had my compass, knife, road flares, broken binoculars, blood bottle, torch, tarp, and a few magazines in a lunch box. I still don’t know how they got in there, I definitely didn’t pack that. I closed my backpack and stuffed it back into the duffel, zipped it up and slid the straps over my shoulders.
Plan; get to a building, any building, get up high into one of the rooms. Convert it to my new base of operations until whatever this was had cleared up. I didn’t actually think that was going to happen, if this was happening in a place like India or China as well I knew we were screwed.
But onward and upward, well, down, I dropped from the tree and ran back toward the truck, now surrounded by the dead. Clique girl must’ve hidden in there.
“Go away!” Yep, she was definitely in there. A massive bang echoed from the cabin as the distinct spray of a shotgun shell tore out of the back door, sending it flying open, “Aah!”
I would not want to be her ears, or her in general. I kept running down the road, looking for a place not crawling with zombies. The scent of fear and blood flowing through the street, the temptation to drain one of the people hiding was very nearly unbearable.
A large pack of zeds moved in front of me at the end of the street, 'Pick a building, any building', I saw an apartment complex and ran for it, smashing through the glass doors. Not deliberately, I thought it was plastic, and hit the floor face first, bouncing slightly. Landing face down in a small puddle of my own blood.
“Ow.” There was a low groan coming from my left, “Go away, I’m busy hurting.”
It became slightly more aggressive, followed by a ‘bing!’ I bounced off my hands and leaped into the elevator. Frantically tapping the close door button. The pack had reached the door and the zombified bellhop had caught on that I wasn’t quite dead.
They started toward me as the doors shut and I hit the first button I could reach, three. It was at this moment that an unsettling realisation fell upon me.
I wasn’t alone in the elevator.
I slowly turned to see someone, probably in his mid-twenties, headset wrapped around his neck, large hipster glasses, clearly decorative, slightly askew. A blood soaked lamp above his beanie wearing head and his dark green shirt torn down the middle.
“Care to explain why my room-mate just tried to eat me!?”
That’s how I met Harry.
Day One
I slowly raised my hands. “Um… well… There was a blue mist and people started eating each other.”
He relaxed and I lowered my hands, “You mean like…”
I waited for it for a second, “Zombies, yes. Flesh eating, apocalyptic, chaos inducing zombies. What’s your name?”
His arms dropped to his sides, “Harry. How’d you get here?”
I shrugged, “Lucky I guess.” The doors slid open, “Is this your floor?” He nodded, “Is your room-mate dead?”
He frowned then nodded, “Yeah, I- yeah, he's dead, I don’t know if anyone else is here though.”
We stepped out, “Well, that’s easy to find out, anyone home!?”
I got hit in the back with the lamp lightly, “Shhh! You’re g
onna get us killed.”
I turned to face Harry and saw an elderly lady nearly on top of him, “Move!”
I shoved him to the side, caught the woman’s head as she went to chomp where Harry stood and slammed it into the now closed elevator doors. Squelching and crunching accompanying the blood spray. I let the body slump to the floor and tried to flick some of the blood and gore off of my hand and clothes, “That’s just gros-“
Harry grabbed my shoulder and spun me to face him, “What the Hell!? You killed he- Down!” Immediately I ducked as his lamp swung over my head, resulting in a smash and a body to fall behind me. I stood back up to see Harry panting and covered in blood, “Ok, there are zombies. What’s in the bag?” He started walking toward the end of the hall.
“Guns, survival stuff.”
We stopped at a half opened door and went inside, “This is my place, I’ll be leaving soon, not exactly safe.”
I was surprised he didn’t ask about the guns, “I like you, to the point, not too many questions.” His room-mate on the floor, head absolutely destroyed, “Did a number on him didn’t you?”
He’d walked off into another room and either didn’t hear me or was ignoring me. I walked up to his wall sized window and my mind flashed to the break in, the screams, music and gunfire mixing into a cacophony of pain, my friends were gone.
I was alone in the city, more and more people kept dying in front of my eyes. The lives I’d taken, it all was dumping on me at the same time, Germany, Vietnam,