Another Way (Editing)

Chapter 1: They're Already Gone

        “Dad, no, I can’t!” I shrieked at the top of my lungs. He was asking me to do the unthinkable.

       “Sweetie, it’s the only choice we have. Just think of the alternative,” he attempted reason, but I saw the fear in his eyes. I used to think he was fearless, bereft of weakness.

Then the apocalypse started. It has been a year since the virus started to spread, eight months since mom was infected, seven short hours since dad was bitten, and six hours and fifty-five minutes since dad had to blow up the house. Now he wanted me to end his pain, to ensure that he would not kill people like all the others out there that have been infected. 

I never believed this could happen to us. I have seen all the movies, read all the books, yet somehow I was nowhere near prepared for the walking dead. For whatever reason, four scientists in Florida had been working on what they aptly named the zombie gene.

They actually did it. They brought a dead man back to life. No one had any idea why they decided to create this virus. Personally, I think they just wanted to make their fantasies come alive.

The nerds.

I hate them so much for what they caused. They made me lose my mother and now my dad is going to become one of them if I don’t do what he is asking of me. I honestly think I would rather he become a zombie. It would almost be easier, knowing he was out there somewhere.

However, the transformation is a lengthy and painful process. I know because I had to watch mom go through it. I also had to watch dad put a bullet into her head.

He said he had to do it, so that he could save mom from herself. I forgave him for that, but I haven’t forgotten.

I remember the day my mom was bitten as clear as day. All three of us had ventured out, trying to find some food. The day everyone left town they took all the groceries, but left a few odds and ends behind.

We thought we were safe.

We thought we had used every precaution.

Dad believed that every last zombie had left town, trailing after the living.

We all thought wrong.

Mom and I had gone into the gas station looking for something to eat while dad scrounged for some leftover gasoline in the tanks, none of us were having much luck.

I rescued a candy bar from behind the counter and mom found a few bottles of water. That wasn’t going to sustain the three of us, so Mom decided to check the back room. I told her I would be there in a minute.

I was staring at the few birthday cards left in the card racks. My 17th birthday was in a month and I couldn’t help but be excited about it. No matter how terrible the world had gotten.

I picked one card out and read through it. The front had equations on it and inside the card read, “It has been scientifically proven that people who have more birthdays tend to live longer. Congratulations! And Happy Birthday!” It took me a second to get it, but once I realized what it said I began to giggle.

That’s when I heard my mom's screams.

Mom came running out of the back room faster than I had ever seen her run in my life. I scurried toward her until I caught a glance at what was right behind her.

Two zombies. One man and one woman dressed in the gas stations uniforms.

They were grotesque beings, their faces were covered in what I thought was blood but at closer inspection it was their muscle, the skin was completely peeled off their faces. And the smell... it was a mix between rats that had been living in the sewer for far too long and the horrid stench of death. A smell I had become extremely familiar with; the air was thick with it.