Life After Death

Chapter 2

After my encounter in the gas station, I wasted no time in packing my things and running as far away as I could.

I almost laughed at the fact I used to be too lazy to do my maths homework, now I was fighting zombies. The thought of suicide crossed my mind a few more times after my discovery, but each time I let it pass as quick as it came.

The next year or so wasn't dramatic. Now I was aware of what I called 'The Infected', I did everything I could to find out more about them, and yet avoid them at the same time. From those I had seen, and the even fewer I had fought and killed, they were not all the same. For starters, some had eyeballs, and some lacked them. But those that didn't have any vision seemed to hear everything from a further distance.

Like I said, I didn't encounter many. I deliberately went out of my way to stay as clear from them as I could. I didn't know if they were like the movies, whether their very breath would kill me, their scratch, bite, anything. So, I continued to spend my time alone, wandering place to place like I had before, and it had worked last year.

Until I met Nathaniel.

. . .

I didn't know the date, all I knew was that it was getting closer towards winter, and I must've been at least 16 by now, nearing my seventeenth if my assumed time of year was accurate. I discovered the Infected around a year ago, maybe a few months more, or less. The days just merged into one.

My social skills were probably lacking. Since Amalie's death, I had spoken to one person that wasn't myself, a kind old man that asked me for directions, not that I knew the answer.

I had been in a wooded area, not a forest but rather what looked like it would've been a park before mother nature took its territory back. My feet ached from the walking I had done in the last few days, so I sat against a tree. Nothing sinister.

When I heard the first twig snap, I thought nothing of it. Squirrels still existed. Then another snapped, and another. I shut the book I had looted from an abandoned library a few days ago and climbed into the tree opposite, not noticing how I had dropped it into the leaves under me as I climbed.

Today was not the day I got killed by one of the Infected's. I still had seven chapters left to read.

They edged closer and closer, now a shuffling sound accompanied the snaps, the crackling of leaves under their feet and all I could do was pray to whatever Lord existed that they wouldn't look up. The very gun I used a year ago was once again grasped tightly in the palm of my hand, my fingers lacing the trigger once more.

As I looked down, the slightly rough strands of my dirt stained hair that had escaped from the clutches of my braid, also fell forward. My eyes scouring for the source of my disruption, and if I needed to blow any rotten brains out for the first time in a few months.

When the culprit finally came into view, I puffed a sigh of relief. It was a human. A man, from what I had glimpsed of his face, he was not that much older than me. Looking around, he seemed to be alone. I waited for the cry of people, or the pacing of shoes heading his direction, but they never came. I thought I was going to go undetected until he looked down at the book at the foot of the tree.

"Shit."

There weren't any more leaves left on the tree, there was nothing to blend myself into or manoeuvre specifically so I could go unseen. One glance up and he'd see me entirely. Anyone who had more than three brain cells would have looked up, I knew it was coming

So, I decided I would be the one with the advantage.

As he bent down to grab the book I abandoned, I aimed my gun directly at his head. Really, I had no desire to kill him, but if it meant I got to live another day then I would shoot him, grab my book and walk away like nothing happened. It wasn't like I didn't have trauma anyway, what's a little more?