Outbreak

Chapter 1: The Awakening.

It was just another lazy Saturday afternoon in the small, quiet town. The six childhood friends—Jimmy, Timmy, Jake, David, Thomas, and Houston—were crammed into Jimmy’s living room, lounging in various positions. The TV was on, playing reruns of their favorite comedy show. The air smelled faintly of stale chips, and an empty pizza box sat discarded on the coffee table.

“Man, how do they never get tired of doing the same dumb stuff?” Timmy asked, laughing as the sitcom’s characters bumbled through another absurd situation.

“Because it’s timeless,” Jake said, his feet propped on the armrest of the couch. “Unlike you. You’re already boring, Tim.”

“Ha, ha. Real funny, Jake,” Timmy muttered, throwing a crumpled napkin at him.

“Shut up, you two,” Jimmy groaned, rubbing his temples. “It’s the weekend. Can’t we just have one day where we’re not at each other’s throats?”

“Unlikely,” David said dryly from the corner, scrolling through his phone.

Houston, sitting on the floor with his back against the couch, spoke up. “You guys hear about that new government experiment? The one about regenerative medicine or something?”

“What about it?” Thomas asked, slouching in the recliner, half-asleep.

Houston shrugged. “Just something I read. Supposed to be a big deal—regenerating limbs, resuscitating the dead. Sounds like something straight out of sci-fi.”

“Yeah, and probably as fake as the moon landing,” Jake quipped.

Jimmy raised an eyebrow. “Wait, you don’t actually believe—”

Before he could finish, their conversation was interrupted by a shrill, jarring noise. The TV cut to a loud emergency alert, the usual programming replaced by a flashing red screen.

“This is a state-wide emergency broadcast. Please remain indoors. Avoid large gatherings. Do not approach anyone showing signs of aggression or erratic behavior.”

The room went silent.

“What the hell?” Timmy muttered, sitting up straight.

The broadcast continued, the voice grim. “This is not a drill. Repeat: this is not a drill. Shelter in place immediately.”

Jimmy fumbled for the remote, turning the volume up. “What’s going on?”

The screen switched to a live feed of the city. Smoke billowed from the streets, and people were running, screaming. Cars crashed into one another as chaos unfolded. But the most unsettling thing was the figures shambling through the crowd—people with blank, lifeless eyes and bloodied mouths.

“No way…” Thomas whispered, leaning forward.

“They’re… eating people,” Jake said, his voice barely audible.

Houston stood up, his face pale but resolute. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

David shook his head. “Where would we even go? This is happening everywhere.”

Jimmy grabbed his phone, frantically scrolling through social media. Every feed was the same—panic, destruction, and horror. “The posts… they’re saying it’s spreading fast. It’s not just the city. It’s the whole country.”

“Is this some kind of virus?” Timmy asked, his voice shaking.

Houston glanced out the window. The streets outside Jimmy’s house were eerily quiet, but in the distance, the faint sound of sirens and screams began to grow louder. “We don’t have time to figure it out. We need supplies. Weapons. Anything.”

Jimmy nodded, trying to steady his breathing. “Alright. Everyone grab something. We’ll head to the old hardware store down the block. Stick together.”

The six of them hurried to prepare, grabbing whatever they could use as makeshift weapons—kitchen knives, baseball bats, even a broom handle.

As they stepped outside, the reality of the situation hit them. The world they knew was gone. Smoke filled the air, and the distant moans of the undead sent chills down their spines.

Timmy clutched his bat tightly. “This isn’t happening. This can’t be real.”

Houston put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s real. And we’re gonna survive. But we have to keep moving.”

The group moved cautiously down the street, sticking to the shadows. The once-familiar neighborhood was now a ghost town. Cars were abandoned in the middle of the road, doors left wide open. Bloodstains marked the pavement, but there were no bodies.

“Where is everyone?” Jake whispered.

“They either ran or…” Thomas trailed off, unable to finish.

As they reached the hardware store, a low growl stopped them in their tracks. From behind a parked car, a figure emerged. Its skin was pale and torn, its movements jerky and unnatural. Its eyes, clouded and empty, locked onto the group.

“Oh, shit,” Jimmy muttered.

The creature let out a guttural snarl and lunged.

“Get back!” Houston shouted, stepping forward with his makeshift weapon—a crowbar he had picked up along the way. He swung with all his might, connecting with the zombie’s head. It stumbled, but it didn’t go down.

“Hit it again!” David yelled, joining the fray with his own weapon.

After a brutal struggle, the creature finally collapsed, motionless. The group stood in stunned silence, their breaths coming in ragged gasps.

“Is it… dead?” Timmy asked, his voice trembling.

Houston nodded grimly. “For now. But there’s gonna be more. Let’s get what we need and get out of here.”

Inside the hardware store, they stocked up on supplies—flashlights, rope, and anything that could be used as a weapon. But as they prepared to leave, the faint sound of shuffling footsteps reached their ears.

“They’re coming,” Jake said, his face pale.

Houston gripped his crowbar tightly. “Then we fight our way out.”

The group braced themselves as the moans grew louder, the shadows outside shifting as more of the undead closed in.

This was only the beginning.