Welcome to Zombieland

Tallahassee=Jonathan

"Shit!" I screamed as I ran down the alley way. My double barrel had run out of amo and I had to reload. The difficulty was that I was sprinting for my life away from the undead. I had no clue who it was, only that they were now the physical embodiment of the word 'eww'. Blood stained teeth and rotting flesh, yup, totally a zombie. I turned the corner in a hasty motion. You'd think Zombies would be slow, like in those horror movies. Wrong! They were actually pretty fast, like a normal person with a limp. [Of course I was faster, just let the girl tell the story!] So I had made a stupid decision of disobeying one of my rules. I had a lot of them, too many to remember off the top of my head in fact. But it was rule #6, don't be a hero. So I'd seen a boy being chased by a zombie, and that's how I'd emptied my double barrel. Of course the damn thing had chased me, and I'd seen the boy run away. "Come on! Work!" I had shoved two shiny copper bullets down the amo pipe. It would take possibly another second to click in. Click. There we go.

I spun around quickly and squeezed the trigger, hearing the noise slam out. Smoke rose from the tip as I panted. The body had collapsed onto the street ahead of me, but it might not have been dead yet. "Rule two," I muttered as I shot another fire into the back of it's head. "Don't be freaking stingy with your bullets." It's blood splattered out, splashing everywhere around it's head. I wrinkled my nose, waving my hand out towards the corpse. "E-Eww." Shoving my gun back in my backpack, I began to walk back down the alley. Something must've hit the trigger in my bag, because about a minute later, the gun fired straight into the sky. "Shit! Jesus Christ!" I covered my ears and let the smoke rise up. Just, death, to both my eardrums. That wasn't supposed to happen. Though, in the United States of freaking Zombieland, anything not meant to happen, happens. Like, oh I don't know, zombies. The dead are supposed to stay dead. Not rise and kill everyone.

I just wanted to go home. See my parents again. Were they okay? Did they survive the uprising? Or were they already dead, roaming as zombies like everyone else I knew? I stopped walking for a second, looking down at my feet. Of all my rules, rule #4 was the hardest to follow. Rule #4, don't form attachments. There was no one left you could trust here in Zombieland, and those you could were always impossible to find. I cast a glance back at my backpack. The word 'S O C K' was written in messy stitching. The letters were coming off, and I remembered how my mom had been the one to sew it on for me. I sighed, I was finally going home-and if my parents were zombies, I'd have to do what I always do. Double Tap, never be stingy with your bullets.

When I reached the highway it was empty. As was any other place that used to be packed with people. Broken cars, darn, bloody streets, gross. And this was home. No where else in the world was safe. Well, people talk about a place. A place where there's no zombies, and people can just be people again. I'm not exactly sure if it's true, but it sure is a story. I'd heard it from other survivors-ones that later tried to eat me. It's lonely out here, and sometimes I wish I would just shoot myself already. I ducked under a car door and reached for my double barrel. I heard a zombie, not sure where, but I was already in the process of rule #18. Rule #18, limber up. I could hear it getting closer, damn things. Limbering up helps rule #1. Rule #1, Cardio. I raised my gun, slowly standing up. I was about to shoot the creepy thing, but the sound of a roaring engine made me jump. I turned my head just in time to see a black pick up truck drive past me. When it got close to the zombie, the driver's door opened and slapped the thing to the ground.

I watched as the driver stuck out their arm, pistol in their hand, and fired. The zombie instantly dropped to the ground, unmoving. It was already clear, this person was a better shot than me [You shut up]. They knocked that thing down in two blows. One by the car, and one by the gun. I hadn't even noticed my mouth was open (I only did when a fly flew in, gross). The driver pulled their arm back in, and started the engine again. I thought they were going to leave, imagine my surprise when they began going in reverse. Towards me.