Dead world- A walking dead fanfic, Book 2

Prologue

Song:  Too Many Tears In My Eyes- Ike & Tina Turner

Alex had always known the world was unfair and harsh. He'd been raised by his grandfather after his parents passed. Both had died before he was even three years old. His grandfather was kind and loving, but he was old. A Vietnam war vet that saw danger in every corner. It meant Alex had grown up in a cabin, away from people and without electricity. His only touch with the modern world had been the hours he spent in school. There he had always failed to fit in. He was seen as a weirdo, which in reality he was.

Later on, in his highschool years, one girl had taken pity on this bullied boy. She was kind and pretty, but Alex had struggled to trust her. He hadn't noticed she was the new girl in town and faced many of the same problems. She hadn't let up, and eventually Alex realized she had no ulterior motive.

A close friendship between them blossomed. Alex taught her how to fish and hunt, whilst she taught him all about pop-culture. It wasn't long before their friendship turned into something more. At eighteen Alex decided to join the military. Because of that they decided to marry young.

Alex excelled as a soldier. His many years as a hunter had ensured he was far more familiar and comfortable with guns and rifles than any of his classmate's in training. That combined with his calm and patient character had seen him chosen to join a specialized unit. He was to become a sniper.

In eight years of service he had become one of the better ones. He'd seen and done things that kept him up at night. But Amelia was always there for him. She brought light to his darkness, he wouldn't know what to do without her.

They had finally been ready to settle down and start a family. Some time after the world ended, there was no telling how long it had been because the days had started to blend together, they realized Ameila was pregnant. What was supposed to be the happiest news in their life, had filled them with dread.

Yet they didn't give up and eventually found a place to call home. They started to believe there was a future to be built for them. All of that hope came crashing down in a matter of minutes.

Alex pressed his hand down on the bullet wound in his bicep. Little slow moving rivers of blood made their way down his arm and dripped from his fingers to the ground, leaving a little trail behind him. He could feel that the blood loss was starting to get to him. He was starting to feel weaker and his thoughts cloudy. He needed to stop and rest, but there was nowhere to go. Nothing but an endless road ahead of him. He returned to his thoughts and continued to put one foot in front of the other. His gaze was fixed on the horizon, he had to keep going.

He hadn't been home when the raiders first arrived. He'd been out searching for food. When he returned home and saw the car parked in front of their home, he knew it was bad news. He ran inside, gun at the ready. He shot down three out of four invaders before they had even grabbed their guns. The fourth however managed to get a shot in; the reason Alex's bicep was bleeding badly.

The bullet shot through his arm. At first he'd only felt heat, nothing to stop him from downing the last man. The pain still didn't hit because he was only focussed on one thing.

"Amelia!" he called out. A hundred horror stories shot through his head; he'd already seen what war could do to a man. He could only imagine how bad the apocalypse could screw someone up. She didn't call out to him and he began running around the house. "Amelia!"

She didn't call back. He didn't lose his cool yet. He knew that she knew what to do. If she had the time and opportunity, she would've booked it out the back door. He checked the door, it was still locked from the inside. The last bit of hope holding Alex together fell away.

He began running through the house frantically, losing all of his military training in the process. Nothing but Amelia and their unborn child mattered right now. He screamed her name again and again, waiting for a response each time.

A soft voice called back to him, barely a whisper. He recognized it immediately. It was Amelia. He rushed to the door. Like most of the doors in this hallway, the wood was littered with bullet holes. He tried to open the door, but it was locked. He called out to her again, but she sounded even weaker and faded. No more hesitation, he kicked the door in.

The white tiled bathroom was smeared with blood. Alex swallowed, that was all Amelia's blood. She sat leaned against the bathtub, pressing a blood soaked towel to a gunshot wound in her chest. Other blood soaked towels surrounded her. It was far too much blood. she couldn't be saved anymore.

He rushed to her side and dropped to his knees beside her, not even caring about all of the blood. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I never should have left."

"No..." her voice was even weaker now. She was fading fast. "We needed food. You..."

"Don't talk. Amelia, please," Alex cried as he held her tight.

That stubborn and self assuredness that Alex had first fallen in love with came back to Amelia for one last act. She reached for his hand and held it as tight as she could. "Alex, look at me," she said, using all the strength she had left to get her message across. She had fought to keep breathing for this reason. "I need you to perform a C-section. I'm already dead." She moved her his hand to her belly. "They might not have to. If we counted the days correctly, I'll be due in less than two weeks."

He pulled his hand back as fast as he could. The mere thought of having to take a knife to his wife filled him with dread. "I can't," he whispered.

Her grip tightened with a strength her weakened body no longer possessed. "Alex, you have to." Tears rolled down her cheeks. They pressed their heads together. "Please." She'd used up all of her strength now. The end was near. She took another breath, that would be her last.

Alex recognized that distinctive sound when someone took their last breath, it sounded almost like a gurgle. "No, no, no," he cried. He tried to rouse her, shake her. He knew it wouldn't work, but he had to try. Amelia couldn't be dead. He wouldn't know what to do without her.

She had left him one last thing to do. Alex's arm began to hurt now; the initial dosage of adrenaline was ebbing out of his system. He didn't want to cut into his wife's belly, but she had used her last strength to ask this off him. He rose to his feet and ran back to the kitchen to retrieve a knife. When he returned to the bathroom his hands were trembling and he couldn't look at his wife's body. He knew he had to work fast.

He looked at the knife in his hand. Cold, glimmering and sharp. No, he couldn't do this. He dropped it and barely heard the metal clang against the tiles. He couldn't stay here. He started walking and didn't stop.

At this point Alex didn't even know how long he'd been walking. But he couldn't stop. Because if he stopped his wife was really dead. His feet were bleeding, but he kept putting one foot in front of the other. And he would keep doing that for as long as he could.