The Dead Roaming

Nothing Ends Well (Prologue)

I lived in Alabama before all of the world had collapsed. I was only fourteen at the time, but in this new world, you tend to grow up quickly. Our neighbors and us had made it to safety just in time because we had been watching the news reports for about a week, showing the outbreak started in Australia. Skeptical of the new illness spreading, we started preparing for anything. Especially for an apocalypse. Although, before the shit hit the fan we used to talk about survival strategies in a loose sense, never thinking it would be a reality. When we sat down to discuss strategies for real this time it seemed that nobody had any ideas. We all just sat around our wooden coffee table sipping water in silence. Silence became the new trend shortly after across the world. There was no more social media posts, television shows, or even radio podcasts. The world had completely shut down within a few weeks.

Underneath our farms is a bunker. I remember when I was little, my dad said it was used during the Civil War so the Confederates had shelter when it was total war. The first few days of that week were spent filling the bunker with canned foods, blankets, and whatever we would need to keep sane considering we had no idea how long we would be down there. The orders were directed by my father, the one to finally give us a battle plan compared to the rest us who were twiddling our thumbs like second graders when asked why they got in trouble. By the fourth day, however, there were reports that the outbreak had made its way to South America. That is when we went into the cold, damp smelling concrete bunker to start our new lives... Underground.

It only took two days for the outbreak to reach us. Sitting on a raggedy old beige carpet, we would all just stare at each other with different expressions of horror because all you could hear every single minute after that day were the screams for help or screams of pain that slowly died out along with our morals. Sometimes you would hear the herds of cows or horses stampeding above us, but the worst times were when we heard people bagging on the bunker doors, pleading for shelter. None of us got up to help, leaving us wincing as their screams pierced through the air. I remember I could hear a car alarm every now and then, but I couldn't help but think, Did one of those things just bump into it, or did someone just become their next victim?

A month went by before everything started to quiet down again. There were no more people bagging on the door and no more screams. Quite surprisingly, we hadn't heard any stampedes lately either. We still heard an occasional car alarm but nothing much more. Well, come to think of it... Since we're underground we don't really have access to sunlight so it messed up our knowledge of time. I actually don't have a clue whether it's day or night right now for that matter. Only my dad and the other older men know because they are the only ones allowed to open the bunkers hatch. I think that's why we used to hear the bagging on the doors from others in the first few weeks. They probably followed them back from one of their supply runs into town.

While lost in my comic book one day, my father came up to me in a rushing motion, looking as if he was trying to find the words to say. I had put my X-Men comic book to the side and observed him carefully. He looked almost nervous in a way if I'm being honest. Mostly because he avoided eye contact with me and was talking pretty fast, but you always have to be on your toes nowadays so I didn't think much of it.

"I need you to come on a run with me to some houses up the road. We're running low on food and supplies."

I don't know how we did though; we basically starved ourselves for that whole month. I swear I lost fifteen pounds. I snapped at him, obviously irritated with situation we were now in,

"How did we already run out? Hell, there was enough to at least make it two months."

"Well for starters, you know the Blevicks have a baby boy and another on the way. Let's not forget, your little sister."