1: Getting Out

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Chapter One

I let my tears fall freely, but I bite my tongue to prevent the sobs from escaping my mouth. I'm sick of hearing it. Leaving Willowsville has never--ever--crossed my mind, until just yesterday. It never occurred to me that I'd move to another town. I've always thought I'd marry, have children and raise them, and die in Willowsville.  

But now, I'm running away.  

It was barely a month ago when the virus broke and the plague set in. I witnessed with both my eyes how the dead ate the flesh of their kind. Couple of hours later, the bitten human becomes an undead like them as well. That's right, a zombie.    

The worst thing happened to me three weeks after the plague. Me and my family (which consists of Mom, Dad, and my older twin brothers, Ashton and Luke), were safe and sound in our house, counting food supplies and staying alert.  

"Do we still have enough food?" Dad would frequently ask. But that time, when he asked it, I was actually kind of worried. We were running out of food.  

"Actually, Dad, we don't," I said hesitantly. I almost predicted what's gonna happen next when I told him we didn't have enough food. And if you thought that he went out to gather more supplies of food, toiletries, and laundry soaps to keep us alive for a few more days, you're right.  

And we were more than relieved when he came back, alive and not a zombie. But an hour later, he was groaning in pain. We didn't know why, because when we asked him, he was positive that he wasn't bitten. It was only when he was having seizures three hours later that we found out he had a scratch on his forearm. We tried to apply medication immediately, while he kept growling the word 'run.' We didn't, of course. We knew he was safe, because a human can only turn into a zombie when bitten--not scratched. A few more hours later, Dad started acting hysterically, and he's already scratched Ashton and Mom. We immediately applied medication, but still, they experienced the same symptoms Dad did earlier, and it was only then when Luke and I dumbly concluded that the plague has gone worse. A scratch from a zombie could now turn you into a zombie, too.  

Mom was growling, too, trying to put the words out of her mouth. She finally managed to say a two-worded phrase. "Get out."  

We knew Mom was right. We have to get out and save ourselves. Save the human race, even. But I didn't want to leave my family either. I was crying like crazy, when Luke snapped me out of it.  

"Maeve, stop. Get a backpack and stuff it with as many supplies as possible. We're gonna have to leave Willowsville."  

"What about Mom and Dad and Ashton?" I cried.  

"They're turning now. We have to get out before they turn into a real zombie and turn us into one, too."  

"No!!"  

"Don't worry, we'll find a solution to this Maeve," Luke said, comforting me with his words. "If there's a virus created in a lab to turn humans into zombies, then there's also an antidote for this. I'm positive." He said, wearing the look he always does when he's talking about his experiments and stuff.  

And I believed him. Luke has always been like a mad scientist. He spent hours inside the mini-laboratory he and Dad built when he was a freshman, experimenting, discovering, or whatsoever. He believed that someday, he'll be a scientist who's gonna be known for his work. Ash and I used to laugh at this. But now, I want to believe in him. I believe in him.  

I stuffed the supplies in my backpack, while Luke gathered his lab equipments and chemicals and carefully placed them in a box. He sealed it with duct tape and tied a rope around so he can easily carry it. We locked Mom, Dad, and Ash in the master's bedroom and left a bunch of meat, just in case. And they were now pounding the door hysterically. Luke and I had to leave, ASAP.  

We loaded the supplies and equipments in the car, and Luke instructed me to get in the car and stay there until he comes back. I asked him where he was going, and said he's going to find Dad's gun. Then, I did as I've been told: stayed in the car until he comes back. But the problem is, I've been waiting for 30 minutes in the car, and I'm so anxious.

Luke hasn't come back yet.

Suddenly, I heard a 'BANG!' from inside the house. It was a gun!

I went out of the car immediately and got in the house. Dad was shot. But he was still moving, like the bullet didn't affect him at all. He was pulling a sloppy flesh from Luke's upper arm. I wanted to scream, but it wasn't the best thing to do. So instead, I ran out of the house, got in the car, and started it. I cried, while driving and didn't even eat for the rest of the day. I am now a refugee. I just want to get out of Willowsville.

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