Ashes to Ashes (Book 1 of 2) A ZOMBIE FICTION

Chapter 9: Beginning the End

"Shit! Everyone go!" Josh screamed as he turned and nearly got tackled.

I fired my .44 into the zombie's skull and he fell with speed. The inside of the Police station was overflowed with the infected, and we stepped right into it.

Veronica ran past me, following Drew towards the front door. I found another target and fired, killing them instantly.

"Josh! Come on!" I shouted, pulling him towards the front when the roof caved in, blocking our exit.

"Fuck!" He shouted, pulling out his shotgun.

"Fuck these bastards! Get upstairs!" I ordered as I fired two more shots and took two more out.

We pushed through the crowd and I kicked in the door to the stairwell. Josh went first as I emptied my cylinder, then began to reload. We emerged onto the second floor and I pushed two desks down the stairwell. It looked empty as we neared the new opening in the wall. 

I watched as Josh jumped onto street level, running to the truck. A loud, deep, rumbling breath came from behind me. I turned and was greeted by an overly large hand wrapping itself around my neck. A hurler. 

Compared to the giant chunks of asphalt that they could throw, I was nothing. It lifted me, then threw me as I fired two shots into it. Instead of going down, I went up. I slammed through a low brick wall and into a wooden water tower, then everything went black.

You are alive. And you are dead. A comatose. But only temporary.

The thing was back, my Guardian.

You will survive through this, but the same can't be said for the someone else.

"Who?" I asked, feeling splinters all over.

We cannot say, for we do not know. All we know, is the high chance. You are the strongest of your friends.

"Thanks?"

Picture something.

The thing was telling me to imagine? Alright...

A city and a husk. They are one. Like this city, this 'Los Angeles'. A large city, and a small city, but not in between.

Huh? The fuck?

You find yourself alone, but together, alive and well. But not yourself.

Acid trip? Okay.

No longer the same form. Instead, you are older. Wiser. Stronger. Faster... better.

"What are you getting at?"

You are this man. In the future. Far from here, not on this continent. It is snowing, and you speak a foreign language, one you picked up very quickly in your travels.

"Uhhhh...."

Forty years of age, but still twenty.

I don't know how, but it made sense.

You are living, amongst the dead. Gifted, among the damned. You travel with familiar faces, but they do not know the language like you do.

"Where are we?"

Easter Hemisphere of this Earth, Moscow.

"How? Who am I with?"

You got here by your own means, and we cannot see who; perhaps you can.

Suddenly, I was seeing a vision. Of the future, snow covered streets and buildings. Thick clothing and a large back pack. I carry my M4, Hunting knife, and a Kalashnikov 47 (Also known as the AK-47). I carry enough ammo to supply an Army, while still having enough food and drink to sustain myself.

I am walking, snow crunching under my thick boots, and I look to my left. Jennifer, and a teenager. Young blonde female, our daughter? I look to my right and see Drew, shivering in the cold through his thick fur clothing. With him walks Azura.

Behind us, Sadie, Chloe, Tessa, and Crystal. We lost some of our group? Along with them I see some new faces, comrades. Allies. On each of our shoulders is a howling wolf, and words stitched underneath 'The Wolf Pack'.

We're walking towards the main portion of the city, flooded with the infected and crumbling buildings. The Vision ends, and I'm awake. Lying inside of the water tower.

'You are alive, and you are dead. A comatose. But only temporary.'