The Last Girl Standing (#1)

Not Quite Undead (Yet)

Noami

The world swam back into focus in a nauseating wave. My head throbbed like a drum solo gone horribly wrong, and every muscle in my body felt like it had been pummeled by Mr. Bigglesworth himself. Groaning, I tried to sit up, only to wince at the sharp sting in my arm.

Memories flooded back - the bomb, the office turning into a flesh-eating frenzy, the desperate dash for survival. And the bite. Oh god, the bite. Had I turned? Was I one of them now?

Panic clawed at my throat, but a new sound cut through the fog. A rhythmic thudding, like someone pounding on metal. It came from somewhere behind me.

Slowly, wincing with each movement, I pushed myself up and turned. My breath hitched. There, in the dim light filtering through a boarded-up window, stood a woman.

She was tall and slender, her dark hair pulled back in a tight bun. Leather pants and a worn jacket seemed an odd choice for a convenience store employee, but hey, apocalypse and all that. But it was her eyes that truly sent shivers down my spine. One was a vibrant blue, the other a startling shade of amber, like molten gold.

"Easy there," she said, her voice surprisingly calm. "You're lucky to be alive."

"Lucky?" I croaked, my voice rusty from disuse. "I'm probably…" I trailed off, gesturing to my throbbing arm.

The woman's lips twitched into a half-smile. "Not quite. You might be just what we've been looking for."

"What?"

She knelt before me, her gaze intense. "The bite. It changed you, yes, but not like the others. You're different. You might be the key."

My mind reeled. The key? To what? More importantly, who was "we"? Before I could voice my questions, the woman continued.

"We're a group of survivors, trying to find a cure. Whispers say there's a scientist holed up somewhere in the city, working on an antidote. But he needs a test subject. Someone who's been bitten but hasn't turned."

She pointed at my mismatched eyes. "That glow in your eye, it's different. It might be a sign. A sign of resistance."

Hope, a fragile thing amidst the chaos, flickered within me. Maybe I wasn't doomed. Maybe this bite, this strange transformation, wasn't a curse but a chance. A chance to fight back, to help find a cure, to maybe even become something… more.

Taking a deep breath, I gripped the baseball bat beside me, the throbbing in my arm forgotten. "So, what do we do next?"

The woman's smile widened, revealing a glint of steel in her amber eye. "We find that scientist, Naomi. We find a cure. And we take back this damn city, one undead accountant at a time."

Suddenly, the future didn't seem so bleak.  Sure, I might have a throbbing head, a possibly infected arm, and mismatched eyes. But hey, at least I wasn't stuck with Mr. Bigglesworth anymore. This apocalypse, it seemed, wasn't all bad. In fact, it might just be the start of something… extraordinary.

~

The promise of a cure was a potent elixir, momentarily pushing aside the gnawing fear in my gut. But that fear returned with a vengeance every time the craving hit. It was a primal urge, a metallic tang in the back of my throat that made me want to sink my teeth into the nearest living thing. Thankfully, the mysterious woman, who introduced herself as Iris, seemed to have a steady supply of… well, let's just say "alternative snacks" to keep the beast at bay.

However, being a potential cure wasn't exactly a walk in the park. The convenience store had become a makeshift lab, and my days were filled with endless blood tests, scans, and strange concoctions that tasted worse than week-old coffee (and that's saying something). I felt less like a valued patient and more like a particularly stubborn lab rat.

Taking advantage of the quiet, I crept out of my makeshift cot and padded towards the boarded-up window. Moonlight filtered through the cracks, casting an eerie glow on the desolate street outside.

My fingers brushed against the rough wood of the barricade. Escape. The thought was intoxicating. Maybe I could find this scientist myself, find a way to fight back on my own terms. Or maybe, just maybe, there was a world out there beyond these boarded-up walls, a world that wasn't just about blood tests and dwindling hope.

With a deep breath and a pounding heart, I started prying at the boards. The sound was deafening in the stillness of the night, a primal scream of defiance against my confinement. Did I have a plan? Not exactly. But for the first time since the apocalypse began, I felt a flicker of something else – control. And in this new, terrifying world, control, even the illusion of it, felt like the most valuable weapon I could possess.

~
The groan escaping my lips wasn't exactly elegant, but hey, desperate times called for desperate measures. Here I was, staring down a boarded-up window, contemplating a full-on zombie hulk-out. Maybe the bite had given me some extra oomph, some hidden strength I could use to smash my way out.

With a silent prayer and a surge of adrenaline, I slammed my fist into the wood. Pain shot up my arm, a dull ache radiating from my knuckles. The board remained stubbornly intact. Great. Apparently, my zombie-esque transformation wasn't quite at the "wall-punching" level yet

Just as I was about to unleash another round of futile punches, the creak of a door sent a jolt through me. My head snapped around, heart hammering against my ribs. A figure stood silhouetted in the doorway, the moonlight casting long shadows that hid their features.

"Don't hurt yourself," a low, masculine voice said. It was surprisingly soothing, devoid of the raspy moans that had become the soundtrack of my apocalypse experience.

I squinted, trying to make out the details. Tall, broad-shouldered, a mop of blond hair catching the moonlight. He was built like a linebacker, and for a fleeting moment, a strange sense of security washed over me.

"Who are you?" I demanded, trying to sound tougher than I felt.

A ghost of a smile played on his lips, barely visible in the dim light. "You can call me Leo. And I'm here to help you."

Help? Could I trust him? This entire situation was a giant question mark, and this new character just added another layer of uncertainty. But the alternative was staying here, a glorified lab rat with a growing frustration and a gnawing sense of helplessness.

"Help me with what?" I asked cautiously.

"Escape," he replied simply. "There's no time to explain. We need to go, now."

My mind raced. Escape with a stranger? What about Iris and the others? But the thought of being a lab rat fueled a growing defiance. Maybe this Leo guy was a risk, but so was staying put.

Taking a deep breath, I met his gaze. "Alright, Leo. Lead the way. But you better have a good explanation for all this."

A slow smile spread across his face, a glint of something dangerous in his eyes. "Oh, you will," he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You will."

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