A Zombie Adventure

Chapter One.

It was finally spring now. I could finally step out into the fresh air after being locked away in the shelter for half a year. Honestly I have lost track of how many winters I had spent underground with the same 20 people. There wasn't much point in tracking age in my opinion. There wasn't any stock in celebration in these times, and even if I had wanted to recognize the amount of time I had to stick around, it's not like I had a family to spend my days with. We were all here with the preacher and his family of ten who took the rest of us in. There was a handful of us who are hunters and gatherers. I have hardly spoken to many as they hadn't had much of an interest in me or making me like themselves. It's not that I can't handle myself outside of the doors, because I have on many occasions stepped out on my own. I think it's more that I'm shoot later ask questions second, which, if I may add, is not their forte. The rest of the residents were close family friends of the preacher's family as well as whoever the snatched up on their way underground. Anyway, I suppose I should clue you into the situation we're in.

When I was about eight years old I remember all of the adults in my life were spending most of their time debating something I never tried very hard to understand, after all, I was only eight. I was too busy playing. I only started paying attention when they all starting acting strange. More rushed when traveling from place to place. The television sets and the radios were always on the news channels, with a slap of the wrist at the attempt to change the channel. Eventually we stopped leaving the house all together. I was scolded every time I so much as looked outside. Most of the windows were boarded up or covered, and all of the doors were locked. I don't remember my parents, or at least I don't remember them as my parents. They were just more of the controlling adults. Of course, now I understand why they acted the way they did. The least I can say is I had an unhappy childhood.

The day that set the ball rolling, however, is stuck in my memory like gum in hair. It was a bright, warm, and inviting spring day much like today. It had rained early that morning causing a soft fog to set over the mostly fenced back yard. The adults in the house were off in their study exchanging words in hushed tones, so I took the opportunity to go outside and play. I walked as quietly as I could to the backdoor and turned the knob as slowly as I could to make sure no one else could hear me. I shut the door just as I had opened it and turned around and took a few steps forward and I took in the view. I saw something move to my right out of the corner of my eye. I turned my body so I was facing it full on.

There was a small boy hidden in the fog. He was mimicking my still body with his arms relaxed at his side. I remember him being so pale despite the layer of fog between us. Then my eyes focused to the larger figure, just as pale, behind him with a hand on the boys shoulder. It seemed to me that the larger figure must have been the pale boy's mother. Her face was stern with wide concerned eyes, it seemed like she was scared of me. The boy, however, was a bit different. All I saw on his face was strictly curiosity, without a care in the world. His eyes were a very brilliant shade of a deep blue, much like his mother's. Suddenly, one of the adults in the house was shrieking and came running out the door with an iron pipe.