As the sunlight beamed from the open windows Ryan groggily shifted awake, his head forming a pounding headache made from hell itself as he grumpily sat up. He got out his last can of green beans and ate it slowly, enjoying the taste as he very well knew it could be his last.
The faucet in the kitchen had long stopped working, and the three bottles of water he packed up in a black backpack were now the last provisions of water he had left. Definitely not enough to survive held up in the house.
Ryan packed what he felt would be useful to him when he leaves the house. When he finished it had come down to a backpack full of:
Three bottles of water
Extra pistol ammo (approximately two clips)
A green blanket
One can of beans
A small first aid kit
It wasn't much, but he had to keep some empty room for the provisions he collected. The blanket was skillfully wrapped around each object to minimize the noise, though the zombies operated on smell rather than noise and sight. You could never be too careful though, and who knows when Ryan could run into a group of survivors.
During the last three years Ryan had only ran into two groups of survivors, the first group had ignored him and kept going on their way, and the second group had tried to steal from Ryan. Thankfully Ryan knew how to use the neighborhood to his advantage, and ended up losing them as he made his way back to the house.
Ryan approached a small sealed bin he had placed in a corner from his last trip outside. He had gutted a zombie and collected its blood to use later, it had been the most disgusting process. It came in handy now as he used the blood to smear it all over himself, completely masking his smell from the zombies. Luckily, after storing it in the house for so long, Ryan had basically lost his sense of smell, making it easier on him now as he lathered it across his clothes.
As Ryan finished he gazed at his own light brown eyes in the hallway mirror beside his wide front door. His gaze travelled down to his blood smeared outfit as he had on his favorite red hoodie with a black shirt on underneath, dark blue skinny jeans clinging to his legs. He had on a pair of red tennis shoes to match the hoodie, and his black backpack sat on his shoulders. Ryan had always been called stylish, and that wouldn't stop even in the face of the apocalypse. With a steel bat in one hand and his black pistol in the other, Ryan was finally ready.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Diary, Paradise Awaits
Short Story[BxB] It's been 3 years since the zombie apocalypse began, and Ryan has desperately been fighting for his survival. All of his family have already turned. His mom, dad, and even his sister. And now, he was all alone. Things changed however, when Ry...
