Infected: Chapter IX
No ****ing way! John and I have held fort here for like months! Years! We'd never go out and leave this house, we've always said that going away = dead. This does not compute. This is insanity! There must be another way out! I try to settle myself down, rocking back and forth on the carpet, all bunched up like yarn. I finally realise ( after somewhat 2 hours of rocking ) that there is no way out. I start to pack anything I will need, John has forced me to throw away anything that has to to with our past family, any pictures or items, no way, he says. He thinks the weight will slow us down and the stuff will only cause us grief. I have a stash of weapons under my shabby bed, I made them in the early days of the zombie apocalypse, I pack my lucky baseball bat ( of course! ), I also pack my PERFF gun, which I have configured with a automatic stapler motor so that it shoots sharp stones, metal balls or marbles, plus, its automatic. And last and most lethal, I put our old totem tennis pole into my decrepit sports bag that I had in year 6 of school. I have equipped it with the engine and the blades from a faded, rusty lawnmower. The finish is a pole with razor-sharp blades whirring around and around on the tip. I walk down the stairs sadly, past all the family photos and old memories. I stand to meet John at the front door. "Bye, bye house..." I mutter, as John opens the door.
YOU ARE READING
Infected
AdventureTwo brothers named John and Finnick are in a zombie apocalypse, surviving day after day is becoming a challenge. Especially since one of the brothers is a zombie.
