Long Road Home. | DNF

I

It was raining out. A quiet and constant sound of droplets hitting the window and roof above. The sounds leaving an almost eerie feeling.

It was about nine in the morning, or so what Clay thought anyways. It's been days since he's seen a working clock, running water, and hot food. Oh, how much he'd give for a hot meal.

It's been days since the apocalypse had begun, creatures taking over the country. Humans who ate humans is what they were.

It started off as a small virus, nothing too bad. Or so they thought. The government was creating a vaccine to stop it but it didn't help whatsoever. It eventually got to the point where people were so sick that they couldn't leave their beds, their houses. And then the riots began. Buildings were burning, people were turning on one another, and soon, zombies were involved. Total chaos ensured and people were running to get help, but many didn't receive it. Two of those people being Clay and his younger sister Drista.

As of now, they were in some strangers house keeping quiet. Of course, they had no clue who or where these people are, but it didn't matter. People were dying and they really needed a place to stay.

"How much longer?" Drista asked from the farthest of the room from the window. She was on the chair, drawing.

Clay looked over at her and smiled slightly. She was a gorgeous young lady. Long blonde hair, green eyes, and a petite figure. She was only 15, and most definitely didn't deserve to be stuck in a world like this.

"We've got about 5 minutes before we can head out. If you need anything, I'd suggest you pack it now." Clay said, looking back out the window once again.

Drista gave a small hum in reply and started to pack up her things. Clay didn't have much to pack other then some food, water, and his weapon.

They were on their way to a military base set up soon. They military would stop and pick up 50 survivors to take back to Seattle. They were currently in Orlando Florida. No way was Clay going to walk all that way.

After a few more minutes of standing and watching the rain come down, Clay goes to organize his things. Once he's finished, he goes to make sure Drista is done.

"You done idiot?" Clay laughs lightly at the scoff and eye roll she gives him. "Almost just give me a second." She reply's, finishing gathering her things.

Once finished, they slowly walk over to the front door of the house they are residing in. Clay opens the door, careful to make sure no noise is made, and checks to make sure there isn't a threat outside. What he sees instead shocks him a bit.

Clay sees tons of families running and leaving their houses to what he assumes is to the military base set up. Clay had no idea these people were even here, he believed it was just him and Drista here. Guess not.

After a moment's hesitation, Clay feels a hand slip into his. He looks down to see Drista's hand on his, giving him a small, somewhat uneasy, smile. He gives her a reassuring smile back, as if to tell her he's always going to be there for her.

After one last moment, they start to make their ways outside. They begin running with the other families to the way of the military base.

Clay won't lie, he's terrified. He's constantly looking at his surroundings making sure nothings going to jump out at him or Drista. He knows that they most likely won't be the first to go down, considering they're in the middle of all of the people but you never know.

After about 10 minutes of running through unfamiliar streets and weaving past abandoned houses and cars, they finally reach the base. They see military men waiting for them with their guns in their hands ready to fire at any moment. Clay sighs in relief.

He drags Drista into a line of about 20 people and prepares to say anything in order to get them on the truck.

Drista squeezes his hand from what Clay can only assume is nerves, so he's squeezes back to assure her everything will be okay, but for some reason, he's got a growing out of dread in his stomach, like something is about to go wrong.

He lets it go as it's his turn to speak. He allows Drista to go first in order to keep her safe. One person pays her down, while the other asks for her name and other information. Clays left to talk to another.

"Name and age please?" The person in front of him asks. Clay still doesn't feel too good about this. "Clay Anderson. I'm 22 years old." He reply's.

The officer looks up at him once then busies himself with whatever task he was doing before. "Do you have any weapons on you as of right now?" The man asks. Dream shakes his head no after a moment. No way is he letting this man know about his weapons. Those are his. End of story.

The officer looks at him one more time suspiciously. Clay looks over to see Drista already in the truck, looking at him and almost pleading for him to hurry up. Looks back down to the officer.

"You're not lying to me are you?" The man asks, looking Clay in the eyes. "No sir." Clay replies.

The man, still not believing him, reaches for Clay and his sides as if to feel for a gun or knife. Clay tries not to move and not create scene.

Just as the man is about to reach him, a gun shot goes off. Clay wips his head over so fast he can feel the whiplash. What Clay sees scares him.

A man, no, zombie, is ripping the throat out of one of the military guards. He screams in pain and falls to the ground with a thud, dead. The zombie lashes it's head around lunging for the closest person to it. Before Clay knows it, half of the people he was once standing with have already turned, just like that.

He hears a loud screeching noise and turns to see the trucks leaving with the few survivors on it leaving. 'No. No no no no. Drista's still there! She's alone!' His mind screams at him. He starts to run, run as fast as he humanly can.

"Clay! Clay please!" He hears Drista scream and plead. The truck pulls farther and farther away from him. He's not able to catch up.

"Drista! You wait for me! I promise I'll find you!" He yells, tears rushing down his face. He can't lose her too, no way.

He hears the groans of the infected behind him and realizes he needs to start running to safety.

He busts into the first house he sees and pushes the couch and chairs up against the door to ensure the dead can't get to him.

Their knocks and groans are persistent but he won't let them in, no way.

Clay turns around and pulls out his pocket knife. He needs to make sure the house is secure before he gets comfortable.

While checking the rooms, he finds more food, water, some medical supplies, and another knife. A win if you ask him.

Clay sits down on the floor and stares at the wall in front of him. What's he to do?

He sits there for an hour. By now, the infected have left, but Clay remains where he is. 'What the hell do I do?' He asks himself looking at his hands.

His parents would think he's pathetic. He should be helping to find his sister again, not just sitting here doing nothing. But what if he can't find her? What if she's dead as soon as he does find her? No. No way would he ever let that happen. He will find Drista, whether it kills him or not.

Clay stands, collecting all the things need for such a long journey. He's already made up his mind.

Clay is going to find his sister. It may be a long walk, and it may kill him, but he doesn't care. He steps out the front door, plan in mind, ready to take action.

Looks like it's going to be a long road home.