End of the Living

Chapter One

The sun was setting over the horizon, the skies being dyed it's usual fiery orange and red as the dark blue of the night sky slowly conquered it and the stars slowly became visible. The road was cracked and long, stretching farther beyond my vision on the open highway that split the calm countryside in half.

Most people would expect an apocalypse to leave an entire city and even the empty roads a chaotic mess littered with blood-soaked bodies, cars being wrapped around poles or flipped over on their sides with whoever was unfortunate enough to die inside...or outside for that matter, and buildings being in shambled ruins.

But that was only in movies. This is the reality of our situation. Everything was only littered with bodies and wrecked cars if it was a town or city, but the buildings were never completely destroyed like in the media from some writer's twisted fantasy of an apocalypse. I never really liked those stories, they never seemed real enough.

I wonder now though if they were in this situation if they lived of course and was able to write about this, would they write it better? One could only think of something so silly in a time like this.

The things on everyone's mind now is: keep running, don't get bitten, gather supplies, trust no one, and survive.

At least, that's what is usually on my mind now.

I stopped at the edge of the road, overlooking a field of now devoured and rotting cows laying on their sides, their large bodies being torn into right now by the creatures. Their blunt teeth ripping the flesh with their strong jaws and sharp nails tearing into the poor animal's fur like it was paper.

But I was numb to this view and kept walking.

I had been walking for days now, stopping where I could and resting, gathering whatever supplies and slashing zombies with my grandad's hunting knife, I only ever used my dad's Desert Eagle if it was an emergency and one of those freaks ran out at me. On my left behind the field's wooden fence was laced with barbwire, some of those monsters were caught in the wire and wriggled their rotting bodies in the sharp wire, their hands were waving at me like they desperately wanted to feast on me next. I knew they did though.

I had been walking for hours today and finally came to a stop at a seemingly deserted gas station. The windows were cracked and crusted in a layer of dust, but it wouldn't have mattered, the inside was so dark that it might as well have been a black void inside. I almost feared what might be lurking in the dark insides, but decided the best course of action would be to spend the night on the roof like I have a few times before at these places. Those monsters are usually trapped inside buildings because their brains are too rotted to remember a basic function of opening a door. 

These stupid zombies, I would have never thought of them as terrifying before this if I had known they could be so stupid. They aren't scary now, they only become scary when they're a hairs-width away and already ripping your body to bloody ribbons and eating your innards. 

I walked over to the small gas station, rounding the corner to the back to find one stumbling around with it's back to me. I felt it'd be a problem later and quietly pulled my hunting knife from my hip as I crouched down and began to creep towards the monster. It was staggering towards the body of a fat man, his back is pressed against the pavement in his personal pool of blood and his ribs jutting out from the massive hole in his body.

 The worst thing to see about these corpses is seeing the endless rivers of blood that seemed to spread wider than the actual person.
I was now behind the monster, the smell of rotten flesh and blood filling my nostrils, I swiftly kicked behind its knees so its legs flew up and it fell on their back before I plunged my knife into its skull. Whatever blood was left in its brain splurted out from the wound onto my hand and blade, it didn't affect me one bit, my legs up to my knees were stained and my chest and both arms were painted with the disgusting red fluid anyway. 

I yanked my knife out and slid it smoothly back into its sheath, turning my back to the corpse and walked over to the large dumpster that had its lid down. I heaved myself up onto the lid and stood on top, to my left was a small service ladder they had short so people didn't climb onto the roof. I jumped and grabbed the edge of the ladder, the rust staining my hands the gross orange-brown color, and started to pull myself up the later onto the roof. I hopped onto the roof with ease and glanced around. It was barren, a bit of plastic and Autumn leaves I that was blown up by the wind rolled across the cement and off the edge.

I walked a bit away from the edge and laid down on the cold cement, my dad's heavy military coat keeping the hard and cold cement of my skin as I laid down. It shielded me from the wind as it practically came to my mid-thigh, he was a large man for his size so I was like a kid in his huge coat.  I slid my arms out from the baggy sleeves and curled my legs in so I could hug them and protect myself from the cold, getting sick is the last thing I need to deal with in this situation. 

I shuddered in the coat, my leggings and tank top barely did any protection against the cold breeze that swept through the baggy coat.

I tucked my head in further and fell asleep, wrapped in the nylon coats weighted warmth.