"My past is an armor I cannot rake off,
no matter how many times you tell me,
the war is over."
Empty... empty... and would you look at that! Nothing! My hand raked angrily through my oily hair as I glanced around the house again, all that remained were empty boxes and trash littered across the floor. The small house was dark from the curtains blocking the street view. I pulled the thick fabric to the side, a cloud of dust filling the air as sunlight flooded past my face. This was the fifth or sixth house I'd searched through and come out empty handed. It was getting harder to find anything worth taking anymore. I've been hitting an all-new low these past few days with how little supplies I had. My canteen was nearly empty, and the only food left in my bag was some dry and flavorless crackers. My stomach grumbled at just the thought of food as I walked back outside towards my car. It was an old rusty four door that I'd put back together with an ungodly amount of duct tape and zip ties. The fact that the thing still even runs blew my mind. I yanked the back door open and dropped my tattered backpack on the seat as a gurgling sound caught my attention. A walking corpse tipped his nose into the sky from across the street until turning his head towards me. A low growl erupted from its throat as it slowly starting to limp towards me, nearly tripping over the curb along the way.
Ignoring it, I climbed into the driver's seat and unfolded a map across the steering wheel. It was old and tattered from ware and the endless amount of pencil markings that stretched from the left coast and nearly reaching the right coast. I traced a highway with my finger all the way to the next town over, taking a mental note. The corpse was now right outside, pushing its rotted face against the glass and snapping its teeth at me. Its skin was leathery and almost gray in color, with clouded over eyes and ripped clothing. Most of these bone bags were blind, their sense of smell however... People theorized that just like humans can, with the loss of one sense, was the gain of another, yet they were just theories. I'd quit gendering them a long time ago, they were just things now.
After folding the map and tossing it onto the passenger seat, I turned the key in the ignition. The corpse right outside stumbled over as the review mirror clipped it as I pulled away. This had been my life for the past few years, at least I think its been that long. Time was a tricky thing to keep track of when you don't know how much you have left. So why bother keeping track of it at all? I knew my day-to-day agenda, always keep moving forward, searching through small towns before heading to the next. The larger cities were too dangerous try and scavenge, most were overrun by swarms of the dead. That was what Phill had taught me... before he died that is.
I was born into a world already infected elbows deep in walking corpses. There was a lot of different names for them, corpses, zombies, zeds and just the walking dead. I'd been raised in a larger community, a happy and safe place for anybody who showed up at its gates. I had both my parents, friends my age and other family members. They used to tell me stories about when the world wasn't broken, and we didn't have to hide behind the walls. I can't even remember their faces now, or the sound of their voices. Something they didn't tell me however, was that the zombies weren't the most dangerous thing out there. Living, breathing people were our own worst enemy. Our peaceful community was raided by another group of survivors, they slaughtered everybody, children included just to steal our supplies. My parents hid me under the floorboards in our living room when they entered our home. I was about 12 when I had to listen to my own parents get murdered just above me.
It wasn't until a day later when Phill found me, coated in my parents blood that had seeped through the cracks. He was our neighbor, rummaging through our house for anything left. Phill was known for being an angry old man, distant from everyone in the community. His wife had passed away before I was born and that turned him bitter and sour. He could have easily left me there on my own, but he decided to take me in for whatever reason. For six years he taught me everything I needed to know about survival, though it was in his own stern way where you either learned quick or get killed. Regardless of his teaching methods, I'll never be able to repay him for all he did for me.
The sun was fast about moving below the horizon as I entered the next town over. I decided on pulling into a large parking lot still filled with old broke down cars and parking between a few of them. The best place to hide was often right in plain sight. When morning came, I'd scope out the area better and see what's worth looting or not. I climbed into the back seat, double checking all the doors were locked before laying down across the short space and settling down for the night. A bundled-up sweatshirt made for a lumpy pillow as I wiggled around to get more comfortable. Hopefully I'd get a few hours of shut eye before adventuring into the town. I munched down on the last of my crackers and had a sip of water before staring up at the torn ceiling. Sleep was never my strong suit... not in this lifetime at least.
~~~Shayes past~~~
"Shaye! Keep up!" Phill growled from a few paces ahead. I quickened my speed to catch up alongside him, a small pocketknife gripped nervously tight in my small fist. I must have been about 13 at the time, we had been combing through the same town a few days now. Currently, Phill was checking the several snare traps he had shown me how to set up when we first got here. I couldn't tear my mind off my shoes that were killing me though as we carried on, they were too tight on my toes and were even starting to give me blisters. This has happened a few times now, and every time I tell Phill it makes him angry to have to go out of our way to find a different pair.
"Phill-"
"Shh!" he cut me off, crouching behind some bushes. I knelt beside him, trying hard to see what he was looking at. I held in a gasp as a walking corpse was wondering around aimlessly. Phill signaled for me to stay where I was as he crept forward to take the thing out. I chewed the inside of my cheek nervously as I watched him. He was great at these kinds of things, not me though, I was terrified of the corpses. I watched as he stuck it in the back of the head with a knife, landing on the ground with a hard thud. I stood up from my hiding spot relieved just as something grabbed ahold of my long hair. I screamed, spinning around to see a different corpse towering over me as its crooked fingers grew entangled in my hair as I tried to pull away in panic. It growled and snarled as dark ooze dripped from its mouth as it tried to sink its rotted teeth into my flesh. The thing jerked to the side, its hands yanking strands of my hair as it fell to ground. My ears were ringing as my heart was nearly beating out of my chest as Phill turned me to face him.
"Are you bit?" He asked sternly at my side, putting his gun away as smoke left the barrel. Tears flooded down my cheeks as I shook my head no still terrified. I knew what would happen if you got bit, a lot of people in the beginning thought it would kill you and turn you into a monster. It was worse than that though, so much it made you wish you were dead. You spiked a fever, your body feeling as if you'd been set on fire. Next, you'd start hallucinating things that weren't actually there as your mind played tricks on you like you'd gone crazy. The only reason people died from the bite was due to the side effects, not the bite itself. The effects only lasted a few days until it was out of your system. That left the question of how people were turned into the undead. The sad truth of it was that we all were already infected. No matter how you died, you always came back...
Hi everybody! I've decided to rewrite this story and do some major editing to it. This story used to be called Generation Z, so if it sounds familiar that's why! Hope you enjoy, and as always, happy reading!
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Evolutionary
Terror~She had seen fire. She had seen war. She had seen life to its fullest and death at its worst. But now, there was nothing left. Nothing but dust. Endless, endless dust and a very broken girl.~ The world was long already broken when Shaye stepped int...
