You Can't Survive Alone

In the Beginning

Day 1

As soon as I wake up, I know something is wrong. There is no sound of cars flying by under my window. I reach over to turn my bedside table lamp on, but it doesn't work. The power must be out. I get out of bed and throw on a t-shirt and jeans. That's when I hear it: a loud, shrieking sound that hurts my ears. It's my mother's scream.

I tear down the one flight of stairs in our house, and see my dad standing in the living room, a knife in his hand. At his feet is a crumpled figure I don't recognize. My mom is behind him, a chunk of flesh missing from her forearm. My dad has a bite mark on his leg from where the person must have bitten him as it fell, dying.

"What is that thing?" I ask in a panic.

"It's a zombie. We were watching the news this morning, and apparently something escaped from a lab overnight. Run and pack a bag. You have to leave, get out of here!" This can't be real, this must be a dream. But what dream would you wake up into? I listen to my dad's advice and run upstairs. I grab a small black backpack off of my shelf and grab my Swiss Army knife. I shove in my pack of gum (why not?) and a roll of duct tape. I run downstairs, stop at the pantry and grab a few water bottles, along with as much food as I could fit in my bag.

"Ashley, follow me. I have something for you," my dad says. I follow him as he limps to the den, and stand in confusion as he leans down and presses on a section of the wall. It pops out and reveals a safe. He enters a combination, and grabs a pistol from inside, along with some extra ammo. I didn't even know we owned a gun.

"Remember to make sure the safety is off before you try to shoot anything," he says. I still can't believe this is happening. I grab the gun from his hand, and am surprised that I can feel it. This isn't a dream after all.

"Ashley you have to go now! Follow I-95! Get out of here!"

"Aren't you going to come with me?" I ask, confused.

"I can't. I'm sorry; I got bit by that zombie. Go, now."

I run outside, and hear a yell. I look around, and see my next door neighbor Zack stuck in a tree, a few zombies around him. I shoot the zombies with my new gun. I'm actually not a bad shot with this thing.

Zack is one of my best friends. He's lived next door since he moved here in second grade. We've been friends ever since. He's in most of my classes, and we sit -sat- together at lunch.

My backpack thuds against my back as I climb up the tree next to him. I don't ask why he's sitting in a tree in my yard; don't ask how he's alive. Story time can wait.

"Ashley! Thank god," Zack says. "We need to get out of here. Are you okay? Where are your parents?"

"My parents were bit. My dad told me to run," I whisper in response. I'm not okay; I can't believe that this is happening. I must be going into shock. "Don't talk loud; you'll attract more of those things."

"We should go, now. Maybe you should disguise yourself, make yourself look less... feminine."

"Why would I do that?" I wonder out loud. None of this seems real; is this really Zack from right next door?

"In books, girls always have to disguise themselves as guys at the beginning of the apocalypse. Less chance you'll be picked on." Seems a good enough reason to me, except I don't have anything else I can change into.

"What would I wear? I can't go back in my house."

"You can borrow some of my stuff. It'll probably be a bit loose on you, but it should be fine."