Survivor (Book #1 of the Survival Series)

Chapter One: The Beginning

I looked over at my clock to check the time but the numbers were blinking. I sighed and grabbed my phone to look at the time, 5:30am. I'm so done with staying up late. Tumblr has completely taken over my life. I was all wrapped up in 5 Seconds of Summer all night, so it wasn't a complete waste of time. I got up slowly and walked down stairs to see my house a mess. I sighed and started to pick up things, I threw the pillows on the couch and picked up the random things on the floor. I bent down and grabbed a battery that rolled almost under the closet door. As my hand wrapped around the battery, a hand grabbed mine.

I slowly opened my eyes, waiting for the view of the ceiling fan to no longer be blurry. I rolled over, feeling the soft microfiber sheets under my skin. The alarm clock was blinking blue numbers back at me. I sighed, losing power was not uncommon where I lived. I picked my phone up off the nightstand, not paying attention to any of the notifications on the screen, it was only 6:30 am. I let out an exhausted groan as I stretched out, I made a mental note to myself to stop staying up late. I pulled myself out of bed and walked through my room passing my mirror on the wall, my 17 year old reflection staring back at me. 

Slowly, things started coming back to me. I wasn't 17, I'm 20. I slowly opened my bedroom door and peaked out. I didn't hear anything so I slowly crept out of the room. I glanced towards my brother's rooms, empty. I walked past my parents room and saw their closet was wide open and clothes were spewed around the room. The carpet felt soft under my toes, but the air in the house was cold, making the hairs on my neck stand up. I made my way slowly down the stairs and saw the downstairs was a mess, as I walked past the couch I started to pick up the throw pillows and placed them back on the couch. I looked over to the front door to see the storm door was closed but the big door was open. I rubbed my arms as I had goosebumps running up and down my entire body. I grabbed the door and began to close it as a body slammed itself against the storm door, an undead body. 

I woke up with beads of sweat on my forehead, I glanced around my dark room, seeing that nothing had changed since the day the dream took place. My grey walls and wooden floor were just the same, it was comforting. That nightmare was a recurring one of the day this whole thing started. When the apocalypse started I was about to go into my senior year of high school, when this disease first appeared people weren't really worried or concerned. The government had always found cures to these types of things, the whole thing didn't even seem real until my grandmother- who I referred to as Nana- got sick. Nana seemed to be recovering, until one day she wasn't, it reached a point where we were told to say goodbye. I'll never forget the well of tears in my eyes, but I surely will never forget what her eyes looked like when she woke up again. The hospital staff rushed us out of the room and the groaning that was emitted from her room is unforgettable, it haunts me. 

After Nana died that's when things started getting really bad, more people started dying and nobody knew what to do. Was there a cure? Coming up on three years later, it doesn't seem likely that there's a cure. It seems the government has abandoned us and left us to fend for ourselves. I walked down the carpeted stairs to see my house clean and organized, just as it should be. I've somehow managed to live in my own house with little to no problems. I spend my days cleaning the meat my neighbor brings over, cleaning my house, reading and washing clothes. 

Walkers are what we call the zombified humans, I've heard a variety of names used, my neighbor, Mr. Smith, said he'd heard a group call them biters which could be seen as a more accurate term since nowadays it seems the Walkers move at a pace faster than walking. I'm not too skilled with guns, but that's due to my family taking all of the guns with them and me not having one to practice with. I've found I'm most efficient with a katana or any type of sword, however, I've been making my lucky baseball bat work. I played softball competitively for 13 years before this apocalypse started so I have a pretty powerful swing. 

My body has changed a lot over the last few years. I'm tall, that obviously hasn't changed, I stand about 6' tall which for a girl is way behind average. My muscle mass has taken a hit because I don't get all the protein and nutrients I need daily due to us having to ration because we don't know if we'll find good meat within the next week. My dirty blonde hair is down to my mid back and it always gets in the way so it's usually in a (tight) messy bun or braided. 

I looked out my backdoor to see Mr. Smith burning the pile of Walkers we'd stacked up carefully yesterday. Mr. Smith was an older man, a little over the age of 60, he lives with his wife, Joanne. We were close neighbors before everything went to hell, Mr. Smith says he wishes he knew where my family had gone too, but the reality is: nobody knows. 

I woke up that morning to nothing but an empty house, no note, no attempt to wake me, nothing of the sorts. I was never particularly close with my family, I was always made to feel like an outsider. I was the oldest of three, I had two brothers Brady, who'd be about 18 now and Cole who'd be around 15. I have no idea if they're dead or alive, but I pray they're still breathing, even though they left me for dead. 

I looked down at myself in my sweatpants and t-shirt, I grabbed a hoodie off the nearby chair and looked back out the window to see Mr. Smith motioning to the front of the house. I cocked by head to the side and walked to the front door, peering through the blinds on the door, there was a small group of Walkers making their way towards our homes, probably because of the fire. I grabbed my bat and opened the front door, stepping out into the crispy Autumn air. I quietly shut the door behind me as the Walkers had yet to realize I was there. 

I started to walk down the porch steps and stopped when I saw a black SUV in the distance. I didn't go on runs, Mr. Smith did, so I haven't seen another living-breathing human in a long time. The car stopped driving when they noticed me on the steps. I was so distracted by the car that I realized at the last moment the small group of Walkers had noticed me and were quickly making their way towards me.  

"Shit." I muttered to myself, pulling my bat up and resting it right above my shoulder. "I suppose there's no other way to start your day than in the jaws of death, huh?" A Walker groaned back at me and reached its hand out. I swung the bat and knocked it off its feet. I glanced behind me to see if Mr. Smith had come for backup but I suppose he figured I was okay on my own. "Mr. Smith!" I yelled, "If you wouldn't mind I could really use you to back me up here...please!" As I turned around to make a run for the backyards, a Walker grazed my arm with it's cold, dead hand. I let out a piercing scream as I'd never been caught off guard while out here. I managed to push myself away from the group and into the middle of the street. "Mr. Smith! Please!" I shouted. 

As I raised my bat to my shoulder again, Walker blood splattered on my face. I stopped dead in my tracks. I didn't bother turning around to see who shot them, because I knew it wasn't  Mr. Smith, he didn't like using his gun if he didn't have to, said it attached too much attention. I made it to my front door but in the glass storm door I could see someone behind me, as I was going to turn around to see who it was, I felt something hard hit me on the head and the world went pitch black.