The Onslaught

Chapter 1 - Malcolm

My name is Malcolm Langley, and I am finally out of school, after 4 begrudging months of learning for the payout of winter break. I waited in my last class of the day with my friends Addison, Kellan, and Chris for the bell to ring, and once it did I was out. No more torture and no more waking up at the crack of dawn. I left for my car where I unlocked the door with a resounding beep, and started the engine. I smiled as I turned my music up and pulled out of the driveway. I was free. On my way home I noticed more traffic than normal, but I shrugged it off at the start of the break.

I pulled into the driveway of my house in the Woodside Ridge neighborhood, a newly built haven of 3 story homes with lavish exteriors. I couldn't help but feel thankful as I walked into my house and saw my whole family, my brother, Michael, being home for Christmas. This was my last year at the high school, with my brother being halfway through his first year of college at Missouri University. My little sister Beth had just started middle school and was very smug about her successful grades and extracurriculars. My parents, Bryan and Erika were good honest people, my mother being a medical coding professor at the local community college, Metropolitan Community College, and my father being an IT director at a bank far off in Massachusetts. We lived in the small town of Lee's Summit Missouri, which had its positives in negatives. For instance, if you do something cool, everyone knows about it. But if you do something wrong, everyone knows about it. That's what my grandfather always used to say. But anyway, let us get back on track.

I talked to my family a bit before heading downstairs to my basement room. I laid back in my bed with the amazing feeling of falling back asleep. I awoke several hours later with a loud alert noise coming from my virtual assistant on my phone. The disturbing shriek continued to ring out as I scrambled to look at my phone. It read,

"This is an official emergency alert from FEMA concerning a grave and immediate threat to public safety. We regret to inform you that a virus outbreak has been reported in various locations across the Midwest. This situation demands your utmost attention and cooperation to ensure the safety of yourself and everyone around you." I read in shock. I at first believed that this was something similar to Covid-19, but it felt different. After all, no disturbing government message was dispatched to my phone during that pandemic. I instantly sat up, staring out my small basement window into the now-dark sky. I heard panicked noises around the neighborhood and instantly felt a wave of dread creeping over me. What was happening?

I ran up the stairs to see my dad gripping his phone in his hand, vigorously typing. He looked up and saw me.

"Dad, what the hell is going on?" I asked my frantic father. He put his phone down on the dining room table and looked at me.

"There's been some sort of outbreak, an infection." He said, trying to steady his voice.

"Outbreak? Like a disease? Like Covid?" I asked, worried. I thought of the prospects of sitting inside, isolated. It sounded horrible, but nothing as bad as what he said next.

"No, like an actual outbreak. Not a disease, like-like zombies." He said, with a defeated tone on his breath. I laughed.

"Oh, okay. You got me. This was a great prank, really a fantastic joke." I chuckled looking at my father. He walked towards me, looking frustrated.

"This is not a joke. We are in danger! All of us," He said, as the rest of the family walked down the stairs.

"Guys? What's happening?" Michael asked. My dad began to explain to the rest of them, who looked just as incredulous as me. But then, screams began to erupt from outside. I walked towards the front door and saw our neighbor, Bobby, yelling at a form in the street. My Dad pushed past me and opened the door. He yelled over to Bobby,

"What are you doing man?" Bobby looked more terrified than I'd ever seen him. He pointed at the form in the street. It was dark and I couldn't quite make it out.

"Daddy, what is that?" Asked my little sister. My dad pushed her back inside as he stepped further down the driveway.

"Sir? Sir, are you okay?" My dad asked the person in the street. It all happened so fast that I didn't expect it. The form jumped on top of him, biting at his neck. My dad grabbed it before it could, however, and threw it away from him. He began running back toward our house. Unnoticed by us, Bobby had run back inside and reemerged with a large black rifle. The creature was running toward us. My dad had closed and locked the door just as we heard a loud boom from Bobby's gun.

"Holy shit!" My mom shrieked and ran further back into the house. She started dialing 911.

"Honey, that isn't going to do anything. I bet they're getting a million calls right now. We need to get out of the town." He said, walking away from the front door.

"Dad, where will we go?" I asked as we rampaged through the halls of our house. He stopped and looked back.

"I don't know. But we need to leave, now. Ten minutes everyone, grab your stuff." He said. My sister tugged on his arm, and cried,

"Daddy I'm scared." My Dad picked her up and started carrying her up the stairs. I ran down to my room, grabbed my backpack, and threw it on my bed. I ripped it open, pulling out my school books, folders, and Chromebook. I put in two changes of clothes, my journal, my watch, my chargers, my headphones, an ancient voice recorder, a flashlight, and a small blanket. I began changing my clothes, removing my flannel pajama pants for a pair of dark jeans. I put on my dark hiking boots and put on a white t-shirt. Over the shirt, I donned a blue flannel and hastily buttoned it up. I put on a blue stocking cap over my short blonde hair and finally put on my brown lumber jack's jacket. I grabbed my bag and began to leave the room until I remembered something—the knife under my bed. I fell to the floor, pulling out a small cash box, which had a knife, cash, and my backup inhaler in it.

I came bolting up the stairs and found Michael shoving food into his bag. I ran to his side and started doing the same. By that time we had all loaded our possessions into the car. My Dad had decided where we were going.

"My father's old storage shed," He said, "he has weapons, and I'm afraid we'll need them." The drive was uneventful, as the traffic was worse than it had been earlier that day. Everyone seemed to have the same idea, get out now. Once we got to the storage units, my Dad punched in the code at the terminal. The gate opened slowly, and we drove in. My Dad unlocked the heavy shackled hastily and pulled the shed's door up. Me and Michael got out of the car to help him. Our grandfather had many different weapons, and we grabbed all six cases. There was a seventh case with a big white label that read, "Ammo." We also grabbed that one.

We drove out of the storage units and started past the high school. But unfortunately, the military was blocking our way.

"Residents have been advised to stay inside, stay in your homes!" The man yelled at several angry people and honking vehicles. My Dad grunted with anger and pulled down the hill, off-road. He began driving towards the high school, which would get us out of the blockade the military had set up. My Mom looked worried and was typing on her phone. She was texting. I then thought I should see what my friends were saying, so I opened my phone to countless notifications. One from Devon, William, Lexi, Clay, Addison, and the list goes on. The point was, everyone was freaking out. We pulled into a parking spot, and my Dad got out of the car. It was the next moment when we heard a gunshot, then several more. I instinctively shrunk down under the windows of the vehicle, waiting for it to stop. Red liquid splashed against my neck as the firing ceased. I tilted my head up. My parents and brother were lying still against the car seats, their blood leaking into the fabric.