Infection

Prologue

For my Nana, who taught me to read and write, and who always encouraged my to keep writing tales. Without your input in my younger years of life, this story would not be possible.

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Prologue

   In all honesty, I'd never really expected that I would go out like this. I'd expected wholeheartedly that I would die of old age, years from now, with my family, or at least my daughter by my side. I definitely hadn't expected that I would be running for my life through the car park of a disused shopping mall from six - or had it been seven? - poor souls that, although they did not know it, were infected with the fatal virus that would begin to eat away at my sanity the minute their skin touched mine.

Sarah, you are so screwed, I thought as my foot caught on a car tyre and I lurched forward onto the cold, unforgiving concrete. I heard my jeans and most likely my skin tear violently as they scraped against hard floor. "Shit!"

I reached up and grabbed the wing mirror of the car that had caused my really badly timed slip and used it as leverage to yank my tired body up from the floor. I set off running again, but I kept stumbling. The force with which I'd hit the ground had at the very least broken something and ripped the first layer of flesh from my kneecap. I doubted I had luck that good though, it was most likely much worse of an injury than that.

I couldn't afford to think about things like that at the present time, though, so I continued staggering forward, running despite my growing limp. The Infected would have inevitably gained on me by now. The virus had driven them insane by now, slowly killing their brains, but leaving them conscious enough to try and find something, anything that was living and could possibly help them.

I didn't want to become that. I didn't want to become one of those rotting things that were trapped inside the deepest reaches of their heads. I had to get away.

My thighs burned from over-exertion as I neared the doors to the complex. My hand stretched out towards them, grasping at thin air. Ten steps..., seven steps..., five steps..., two steps...

My palm collided with something solid.

I pulled my hand from the glass as quickly as it had touched it; my fingers screamed in near-agony. My reaching fingers had slammed straight against the glass, forcing them to bend up and back at an unnatural angle. I bit my lip to contain an oncoming screech. I let my broken hand fall limp against my side and hammered on the door with the other. Spitting red, coppery fluid from my mouth, I peeked over my shoulder to see the infected people coming towards me. I banged furiously against the glass window - the place was locked, and if I didn't break the glass and climb through the resulting opening into the mall, I was a dead girl.

The glass refused to as much as crack.

And then I felt a faint breath on the back of my neck.

Yup, I thought, screwed.

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I hope you enjoyed reading the prologue of my story, Infection. Please vote if you liked it (It's what the button is for, after all) and drop me a comment to really tell me what you think!

Also, take a look at the pretty little book jacket I made for the story! I think it's cute c:

I hope you all have a beautiful, beautiful day!

xofaith