Epidemical

Chapter 1 - "Pilot"

Chapter 1-Pilot

There were five of us; each with a distinct nickname so that we may hide our identities. Roach was the first; he had a troubled past... a history riddled with drugs, and alcohol abuse. This guy was so coked, he claimed he saw new, vibrant colors no one had ever seen before on an LED TV. There was a reason behind his personality though. He never truly had parents when he was young since they never got married... they just knew each other, leaving their son to live with his grandmother. That is, until she contracted the infection, and became exactly what we all now avoid. Roach had the opportunity for his first kill when his grandmother was dying in her bed; he did the humane thing, and put her out of her misery. He was a hard working man, tall, very well built, short brown hair, brown eyes, and to top it all off, one hell of a twisted, sick sense of humor. So far from his experience, we've learned that the infection begins unknown and remains hidden. Soon after, the infection spreads to the older age groups first, and it takes about a week for them to begin coughing, and the discoloration of the skin to occur where the infection had originally started.

Koon was the second one in our group. He had a unique history; not too bad, however, it wasn't the greatest either, but he knew how to get by. Like Roach, he also had a small track of drug and alcohol abuse, nothing too serious of course, but the guy sure loved to drink, and he'd had his own experience with the infection. Starting on what was supposed to be a regular Wednesday afternoon, his mother soon arrived home after work, coughing, with a slight grey look to her face. The step-father was worried he might have caught what she got after last night's affair. Another week goes by, and the step-father is already showing similar symptoms. Then once two and a half weeks had passed, Koon arrived home to find his mother and step-father both face down on the floor in their living room breathing heavily. They were both crawling around the floor like worms, and gasping desperately for air. Suddenly and quickly, Koon's mother grabbed onto his ankle gripping so tight he might've bruised as she gasped her last breath before dying; her grip slowly loosening as the life slipped out of her now hollowed, soulless body. He was paralyzed standing there, and utterly distraught, writhing inside from the woe he felt at witnessing up close the death of his own parents.

Beyond the state of confusion, the young man had no idea where to turn, or what to do, but before he could think a single thought, his mother's grasp on his ankle tightened once again. He screamed in shock, and began frantically kicking at her hand. Of course, this action only made things worse as what was once his loving, thoughtful mother became something else, and was trying to bite her own child's leg. After kicking vigorously again at the corpse beneath him, he watched as the arm holding him snapped in two, muscle, bone, sinew... all of it shattered before his eyes close to the wrist like brittle bones. As soon as he was free, he rushed to the kitchen to obtain a knife and began continuously stabbing into his mother's head, eventually he started guiding the blade, and lead it to her upper neck, piercing it, and therefore severing her medulla oblongata. Without a second to lose, he darted outside to the small camper set up in the backyard. The windows and doors were already all boarded up, and the door was permanently locked. But lucky enough, there was a hatch at the top of the camper allowing him to enter and exit when he had to make small rounds. The camper was initially white, but years of rust and weather had dulled its color. Where windows were once now there was broken glass, and plywood nailed to the outer rims to cover the exposed area. The ladder, or what was once left of it, had snapped and broken off, but luckily, it's only a single leap's length away. Koon's experience had taught us that the severing of the neck, or any destruction, and damage to the brain kills the infection in the corpses instantly, eliminating whatever it is that humans have become from the infection.

Crock was the third, but there isn't really much to say about him since he was fortunate enough to be out at sea when the infection broke loose. Crock is a valuable assest to our party though, and he has an extensive amount of Navy, coordination, and leadership skills that are necessary in this world we live in now. Not to mention, this guy is the farthest thing from shy when weilding a gun, and he wouldn't hesitate for a split second to shoot you straight through the skull if he sees any sign of infection in you. Crock's a good guy though at his core; always looking out for us, rationing food, setting guard shifts, teaching the rest of us, clueless or not how to shoot, and how to survive the infection that fate has wrought upon us. Now, it's best to inform you that he wasn't always the silent type. He had a woman once that he loved with all his heart right up until he had to bear the weight of killing his own wife. She took sick with the infection, and they both knew what the outcome was. She had begged for him to be strong, and to show mercy if nothing else. Her last words to him were "I will always love you..." just before he fired with tears of rage and sorrow in his eyes because he knew there was nothing he could do to save her. The last sound she would ever hear was such a violent one, and it rang out clear in the air around them, followed by the eternal, cursed silence of his beloved wife. Later, after a month of fighting off the infection alone, Crock took refuge in a small Navy ship that carried a few passengers up the east coast. This is where Religion and I met him by a small gas station not too far from Koon's camper. He explained that his house was two blocks over, but unfortunately that street was positively crawling with husks, so he joined our small group. Crock was a bit taller than me, black curly hair, extremely defined in his body structure and dark skinned. Crock is not all black because his mother was white but we let him have his moments.