The Immune

chapter 2

During the summer of my ninth birthday the world as we knew it to be , died.
Just like the Hollywood movies predicted.
A teriible virus swept across the globe.
Idiots and emotional fsmiles tried to hold onto the old world's values and traditions.
It was airborne at first.
A quarter of the population died of a mysterious illness. A significant amount of the population reacted significantly to the toxins - making these people into Hollywood's idea of a zombie.
They maintained no memory
They forgot how to be human
They are the primitive, the cannibal , the angry.
This toxin became a contagion, a disease that could spread through blood and saliva.

Being bitten was the worst way to go. An infection would take over your body- you would beg for death. The pain would bring on twitches, hallucinations, then steadily progress to convulsions, fits of rage and lunacy. It was a deterioration of the mental state as this blood of saliva would decay who you are.
It would take a day maximum to transform.
Yet It could also only take a matter of minutes.
There is also the other truth of The virus. We thought it only infected a specific percentage. In fact, it infected us all. those would died in the initial wave remained dead. For everyone else, the virus took hold, latching on to our bodies, laying dormant .The contagion would need to be triggered, by saliva, by blood, or by death.
These animals would group together, undirected but an imposing hostile, impenetrable force. They run, they hunger, and they are always hunting.
The only way to stop them- a bullet to the head.

The world was in chaos. Cities and suburbs became battle grounds of Gore, teaming with zombies.
Over time, the few, like my family, regrouped and be game to rebuild. Humans were for once mainly at peace with each other, United against a common evil.
Life was alright, we began to live with hope, hiding behind strong walls and guards.
Until my mother was bitten.
All hell broke loose.
She didn't turn.
And she survived. Margaret strike became a legend, became the answer.
She was the cure, she was wiling to help. Until they started taking things too far. Their results gleaned little, and as a results their experiments became more rigorous . Cutting and slicing and hunting. They tore our family apart.
I don't really know what happened. One day I was sitting in our home, a sanctuary in the compound. I was watching over the twins and little Lily when dad burst through the front door. His haggard appearance disrupting the calm of our home. Mom had been gone for three months, and we were almost getting used to her absence. Wizened beyond my 15 years at the time, I was accepting of the worst.
"Ashlyn we gotta go, we can't stay" the panicked tone hurried me, yet it wouldn't stop me from asking questions. Questions that he didn't or couldn't answer.
We escaped into the day, assisted by a few of dads friends. Dad had picked what he thought was the lesser of two evils.
Dad later told me of moms demise - mentioning organ farming and reinfection. "By the time the doctors were done with her," he said "she couldn't have even recognised your face"
She died violated, empty and abused. They drained her blood, removed her brain.
With her death, their attention turned to us. Her children, her blood.
We were hunted.
We survived four years on our own. We travelled hundreds of miles, across states, up mountains.
They were following all along, never quite catching up.
Our time running ended with blood, fire, death and zombies