The Survivors

Chapter 1

It had been happening for a while, I guess. The government had kept it so well hidden, no one knew about it until it was too late. I remember sitting at home, laughing at how crazy those people were for thinking it would ever occur. I was in middle school then. Nothing serious ever registered in my mind. But it’s different now. I’m different. What changed? Everything. Because the apocalypse is upon us.

The day everything changed, that horrible, bloody, day, I was at home, fighting with my dad again. It was ugly out, stormy and gray. There was a bad electrical storm over by this big lab that had some important testing being done. The reporters were zooming in on these freaky looking piles on the ground, wondering what the hell they were. No one had been responding inside the building for quite a while, and some officers had been sent in. Reporters had been buzzing around the place all day, trying to get a better look at the objects, when one of the strange looking piles shifted. When a police officer went to inspect it, a hand snapped out, grabbed his ankle, and suddenly he was down. He was shooting and shooting but it was vicious in its attack. Bites and cuts ran along his nearly lifeless body when about a dozen rushed to help, and he was shipped to the nearest hospital in critical condition. The piles were human. The scientists working in the lab, were now creatures of nightmares. And I, along with most of the world, was very, very, afraid. 

The officer never made it. But then again, neither did anyone else in the hospital that day. He had ripped through the hospital, killing dozens, and spreading the contagion. He infected any he could reach, and by the time help had arrived, there was no one to help. The hospitals were infected, and any help sent was quickly infected as well. It was spreading so quickly and so efficiently, no one had any time to react. No one really knows how it happened, not that it matters. There’s no one left to care. Well, there’s us survivors. Me, Cara, and TJ. I found them three years ago, on my way to a safe house I had heard about. My first year was rough, and taking care of two kids was harder. I didn’t know the first thing to parenthood, and even less of parenthood during a zombie apocalypse. But I taught them everything I thought would help them survive. I filled their little heads with stories about how the world used to be, before the undead swamped the world. Before I had found them though, I had been lucky enough to find a truck with gas in the tank. I piled as much wood, supplies, and food in it as I could, and headed off towards a river I had seen a couple months before. It had a nice little forest near it, and a meadow in between. I built my little hut there, and spent hours digging and planting a garden. I grew my own food, and killed whatever animals I could find. The first couple weeks before everything was ready to eat was horrible. I would be out at ungodly hours hunting, trying to stay alive. Only during the winter do I actually have to leave my safe little area. I travel to the closest town, nearly 30 miles away. As I have no way to get there any faster, I walk. I sleep on the ground with my gun in my arms and pray they don’t find me. I’ve trained myself so well that I wake up immediately when I hear that first moan. Sometimes I wake up in the dead of night hearing them. They travel in packs, which is more efficient then attacking alone, I guess. They smell or hear their victim, and then suddenly they’re off in a fumbling mass of rotting flesh. I’ve seem them attack a man before. A Snatcher. I know by the way he doesn’t seem to hear them, how he stumbles right into their path. I don’t stop to help him. 

That’s about the time I found Cara and TJ. I guess their mother had tried to lead the Snatcher away from them, but the zoms got to her first. I nearly shot Cara in the head when I saw her, because she was so dirty and ratty that I mistook her for a member of the undead. However, lucky for her, TJ had shouted, “No!” Startled, I took a step back. “TJ, be quiet, can’t you see she’s just gonna take us away like that man?” She pulled him behind her as I tried to remember how to speak, it had been a long time since I last saw a human, besides the Snatchers, but even they eventually stopped showing up. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m Olive…but how are you still alive? Who took care of you?”  I asked in a surprised voice. Nice going, Olive, could you scare them any more? “Our momma took care of us in a big house, but we had to go get food at the big building, and the bodies just got her ‘cause she was trying to make the bad man go away from TJ and me,” said the little girl. A big house? “Where is this house?” I asked frantically. “Do others live with you there?” Maybe they’re there! Oh God, don’t get your hopes up. The little boy, apparently named TJ, piped up. “Yeah, Nikki lives with me and Cara.” I smiled at the way he bumbled through his words, as if he didn’t know how to speak quite yet. Wait. Nikki? No. It wasn’t possible. I saw her go under that pile, the others crushing her. But I couldn’t stop, couldn’t slow down for her. She had made me promise, flipping her shoulder length hair. I remember every detail of my best friend; she had practically been my sister. I remember the way she would always wear that one band’s shirts, (what was it, Black Veil Brides?) skinny jeans, and eyeliner. She’d gotten so annoyed with me sometimes. I remembered how I used to be, before it all. Jeans and a t-shirt, never without a hoodie and headphones. Eyeliner so thick it drove my mom nuts. Hyper and talkative, pushing my teachers’ patience to the limits. And, well everyone else’s too. But I was friendly and got along with about everyone. Remembering my old self made me smile this little sad smile. But I didn’t know that girl anymore. She was dead and gone. I snapped to, hearing my name. “….she doesn’t like us, says we’re annoying, and never eats much. My momma said that’s the only reason we keep her around, ‘cause she don’t eat much but she still helps get food and stuff. I know our momma didn’t feel bad for her, because my momma don’t feel bad for anybody. I like you better, you’re nice and don’t hit us when we talk. She’s dead, right? I just hope she doesn’t turn into a body, those things are scary and she was scary enough when she was human like us.” I smiled, and started walking back the way I had come. They followed. When I reached the place the Snatcher had been attacked, I picked up a book bag. Ripping it open excitedly, I found two books, a pad of notepaper, and a dozen pencils. A few other things were scattered around, and when I crouched down to pick up a watch that would cost a pretty penny in the city, something slammed into me. I flew forwards, getting a mouthful of grass. I rolled over grasping for my gun, but didn’t find it in its usual place on my back. I whipped out my emergency dagger hidden in my boot, and held it out in front of me. Two combat-boot clad feet were planted in front of me. My gaze traveled upwards and noticed old ripped jeans, a worn out band shirt, and a lean muscled body holding a gun. My gun. About to shout out a few choice swear words at this guy, I glared up into the most gorgeous eyes I have ever seen. They were green like the trees of my forest, with a river of blue running around the center. But I hid my surprise and the shiver that rippled down my spine. “Get away from me,” I growled quietly, knowing the undead still hung around. “I don’t think so,” he said with a smirk. “See, you’ve perked my curiosity. What are you doing out here all by yourself, princess?” “Staying away from Snatchers like you! If you think I’m going to let you take me back to the damn people that started this crap without a fight, you’re on crack!” He cocked his head to the side, sizing me up. “Do I look like a Snatcher to you?” Frowning, I examined him. His hands were callused, his arms tan from the sun. His dark curly hair wasn’t shaven like the Snatchers, and he didn’t wear the uniform. From what I knew, if you didn’t wear the uniform, others would come and kill you for going rogue. Those guys were soft as putty, I remember watching one trip and fall, then proceed to bawl his eyes out for nearly half an hour, drawing every zombie in a ten mile radius our way. I climbed a tree and waited until they had all had their fill and left his remains to the wild animals. I picked up the gun and bullets he dropped and retrieved his pack from where he had thrown it when he tripped. Although he was considered a traitor to the human race in my eyes, he still was human, and deserved better than being left to join the undead in a few hours. I took my gun and shot him right between the eyes. Joining those monsters is the worst possible way to go.