Mortem

I had been at the bar with a few friends of mine when it had all begun. It had been a long day at work, and I had been looking forward to spending some quality time with the boys. That sadly did not end up happening. Instead we had been told to evacuate the building 'In an orderly fashion." Nobody listened. People were going crazy; fearing there was a fire, or a robber, or some other crazy scenario. Nobody knew what was really going on at that time, yet they panicked. I know now that if we had been told the truth, everybody would have just laughed it off. Because after all, zombies weren't real.

I'll admit, I had been terrified when I saw my first one. (Mortem is what we call the Zombies now, Latin for Death). Well, I had become terrified once I realized it was all real. When I first saw one, I thought it had been a joke. My friends and I had walked out of the bar, and started to head towards the city center, just a block away. We never got there though, because a crowd of people were running in the opposite direction; as if they were running away from something. My friends and I had gotten the picture, and knew we had to leave. We all rushed to our cars. My closest friend, James, had parked his car next to mine, so we went together. That's when we saw it.

We thought it was a joke. We thought that it was all a huge joke, and people with cameras were going to come out and yell "You've been punked!" But they never did. This little girl was just standing there, at least twenty years younger than the two of us; the only problem had been that she wasn't a little girl. Her face had made us think it had to be a joke. It was horrible. Parts were ripped off, her clothes were soaked in blood, her leg was bent the wrong way, her eyes were dead. A stereotypical zombie. We had wanted to laugh this off, get in our cars, go home, and kiss our wives and kids on the cheeks. We were about to do just that, when she decided to attack. James had quickly went down. He was the first person I ever saw being savagely eaten by another.

I wanted to help, I really did. But at that moment, all I had been able to think about was my wife and kids back home. I rushed to my car, struggled to put my keys in the ignition, and drove off with speed. Just on the way out of the parking lot, I saw another four of those things, and many women, men, and children were lying motionless on the ground.

Every women and child I passed by, I could only think of my own wife and two daughters. Have they reached them? Have they become one of them? Are they hiding? Do they have anything to protect themselves with? Are they alive? Have they even heard the news? I shook my head, refusing to think of all the horrid possibilities any longer. They were okay. They had to be. I didn't know what I would have done if they were taken away from me. I sped through the streets, cursing the other people who were driving too slow. Had they not heard? Had they not seen what was happening? I envied them. They hadn't known. I sped through every red light, cut off all cars, and raced to my home, hoping and praying to every higher being out there, that this was all just some retched nightmare. I began to choke up as I drove up to my street. It had been happening here as well. There was small outbreaks all over the city. Just two houses down, I had seen a motionless man lying on the ground. That man had once been my neighbor. We had barbecues outback. His son had play dates with my youngest daughter. He was dead.

I opened the door, and called out my wifes name. "Elle!" No answer. I shouted out my daughter's names. "Jamie! Cynthia!" Still there had been no answer. Then after a few more seconds of silence I heard a loud thump come from the basement. A chill ran down my spine. We never went in the basement, it was all just clutter; my youngest was convinced a monster lived down there. I grabbed the baseball bat from the living room; Jamie had softball practice that day. I made my way to the basement door, and opened it as slowly as I could so the door wouldn't make too much noise.

The rancid stench was the first thing that hit me. I began my descent down the steps. My stomach dropped as I made it down the last step of the basement. I shook my head in disbelief. The sight and the putrid scent had been to much for me then, I threw up.