Apocalypse Rising: The First Month

Chapter 4: It's Been 2 Weeks...

It’s been two weeks. Two weeks since the whole virus started; two weeks since we were evacuated from our home; two weeks since our invasion at the army camp.

It’s been two weeks that we’ve survived. Two weeks since I met Ted.

Two weeks.

But things are only going to get worse. Way worse.

~~~

I wake up to a piercing wind.

The musky sky is vomiting fog, which scatters along the crisp ground. The leaves are hardened by the morning frost and they crunch under each footstep.

I take a deep breath. A cloud of steam escapes my mouth. I sit up, taking off Ted's arm from around my waist. I then crawl out of the hut and add more sticks to the fire pit before using flint from dad’s pack to re-ignite the flames.

I rub my hands together, creating warmth. The crackling fire warms me slowly, and soon my blood starts pumping through my veins again.

Suddenly, I feel an arm wrap around my shoulders. I jump a bit at the touch, but when I turn to my side, I immediately relax. Ted is there, smiling at me. His smile is so gorgeous. I smile back.

Then, he leans in slightly, and I do the same. Our lips are almost touching...

"Morning, what's up—" my dad says before pausing.

I sharply flick my head in his direction. My eyes widen and I knit my eyebrows together.

"Dad!" I yell.

He raises his arms in surrender. "Sorry, sorry..." he says with a shrug. He then walks away.

A thin line forms on my lips. "Sorry..." I mumble to Ted.

He chuckles lightly. "It's okay," he says, then kisses me lightly on the forehead. Ted then stands up and walks over to where my dad is.

~~~

Ted’s P.O.V.

"Hey Stan, um, I’m sorry about that..." I say, sort of trailing off at the end.

Stan forces a smile on his lips. "You don't have to lie. I know you're not sorry for that. You like Carly, I know you do. But don't get too attached,” he says, sternly, before walking away again.

I tense my jaw.

I love Carly. I truly do. And I don't know why it had to be now that I realize I do. I mean, in the middle of a zombie invasion and all.

I smile just at the thought of her.

Feeling useless at the moment, I set off into the woods until I’m a few hundred meters deep, and scan the forest floor in search of more firewood. Then, after a good half hour, screams set off in the distance.

I drop the wood immediately and sprint towards the camp.

When I get there I find Carly bending over her duffle bag, stuffing clothes and items in there. Stan and Janet are doing the same with their stuff. So without saying a word, I run over to the hut and pick up my belongings, and also start stuffing them into my small backpack. I zip it shut.

When we’re all finished packing, Stan stomps out the fire and quickly unties the rope that held the saplings together.

"Let's head off," Stan says.

We start to jog away from the ear piercing screams, which can still be heard every few minutes. I keep a steady pace, constantly looking around me.

"Zombie! Ten o'clock!" I yell, as I see a figure move with incredible speed through the forest.

Stan lifts his gun and fires instantly. I watch the body fall with a thud to the solid forest floor. Blood oozes out of the hole in its chest, and soon a pool of warm red liquid surrounds the body.

We carry on running through the woods, but the trees seem to be getting thinner and scarcer.

"We have to split up. They're gaining on us," Stan says.

~~~

Carly’s P.O.V.

"What?! No, we can't! We'll have more of a chance of survival if there are more of us!" I say, practically yelling.

"Carly,” my father says calmly, “what we have to do is lure them away from you and Ted. We will meet you at the top of that hill. Go in a tree, and mark that tree with the rope.” He hands me the rope we used to tie the saplings together earlier. "Go. I love you, Carly." He kisses my forehead.

Mum does the same. “We'll see you soon.”

Tears slide down my cheeks. This can’t be happening. “Mum, dad—no,” I croak.

Without waiting for me to finish speaking, they both begin running again.

And with a sick feeling resonating in my stomach, I fear that they’re gone forever.