Cooties

Prologue:

THERE'S NO ESCAPE IF YOU OR A LOVED ONE IS INFECTED THERE IS NO HOPE. IF INFECTED PLEASE HOP ONTO THE PILE OF DEAD AND DECAYING BODIES AND WAIT UNTIL DEATH SETS IN. Thank you this has been a public service announcement payed for by the NCA, National Cootie Association.

Chapter 1: (sorry for the cheesy beginning! It gets better, I promise!)

"Mommy... What's this red C on my arm?! Maggy asked shakily.

"NOOOOO NOOOOOOOOOOO MY POOR CHILD SHES BEEN INFECTED WHATEVER SHALL WE DO ABHHHHHHH!" Her mother shrieked and fell to the ground "'Lying cold and dead'" in shock! Little Maggy gasped, startled by her mother's reaction.

"Mommy? Hello...?" Maggy shrugged, kicking the old hag's twitching body into a corner.

"She was always stupid anyways," Maggy remarked, watching a rat start to gnaw at her mother's dress. Suddenly, the mark on her arm began to itch... It grew inflamed and began appear in several other spots on her body. Suddenly there was a loud pounding at the door. Suspicious she flounced over the the peephole itching the Cs on her arm as she went. Peeking through the hole she was horrified to find dozens of boys with similar Cs mindlessly clawing at her front door... Maggy held back a scream, clapping her hand over her mouth. She then noticed a few more of the marks, as though they had been burned into her skin. She continued to stare, her gaze glued to the "zombie" like beings outside.

"Who are th..." Suddenly, a gray, patchy fist crashed through the wooden door. The heat of the burning sun flooded in, exposing the dry, broken world. Buildings were broken down, stores empty from the scavengers. The hand adjusted itself then reached out, trying to grab Maggy. It clawed with dirty, long fingernails that grazed her face, sending a searing pain near her eye. This time, Maggy couldn't hold back her screams.

Maggy felt the hot scream bobble in the back of her throat and erupt through her gaping mouth. The sound she emitted was too high pitched and sharp to be Human. As she stumbled away from the door an the Barron land scape outside of it she risked a glance down at her burning arms. The flesh had turned a ghastly shade of grey and the marks stood out like a fire in the dullness of dusk. For a second, Maggy believed that her eyes were just tired. Then, she remembered the arm reaching out and scratching her face, and reached up to touch the wound. The skin around it felt hard and hot, and there was a thick liquid oozing out of it. Maggy fell into the side of a crumbling home, her head in her hands. What was happening?

In the brief moment of grief that Maggy allowed herself to have a boy, probably around her age (14), appears by her side and pulled her into the darkness of the ally way. When Maggy looked up at the boy she saw no marks on his skin (although he was wearing a long sleeve shirt and full length pants. Concealing all areas of skin where the infection may be. She immediately scratched at the boy usin her ragged fingers and feet. She allowed herself to steal a gaze at her captors face and saw that his eyes were not glazed as the other victoms had been. Was he infected or still free of the hideous disease? The boy firmly grabbed her shoulders, holding her at an arm's length away. Maggy screamed and threw her arms out, burying her head and scratching at air. The boy grabbed her hands gently and lowered them, his clear eyes locked on hers. For an instant, Maggy melted and relaxed, her mind slowing as she stated into his deep eyes. Then, she realized what she was doing and let out a long howl, yanking her hands free from his grasp. She reached out and her claw-like nails swiped at his face, leaving a trail of blood. He cried out and stumbled forward, startling the girl. She began to run, stopping once to look into the clear eyes as he sunk to the ground.

"Wait!" Wailed the boy.

"I can help you!"