The Plague

Chapter 1: Crash

From the moment we are born, to your very last breath, we are looking for our purpose. We truly don't know what that purpose is until that moment. We believe we know our purpose. "I was put on this earth to donate blood and save someone's life." Wrong. Your purpose may easily be to push your best friend out of the way of a moving vehicle and take the bullet. My purpose, is just to die on this stupid infected island. That, I know for a fact. At least I thought I did.
I heard the plane coming way before I saw it. I sat in an empty car. My sniper poked through the broken windshield. Right in the middle of the road, two hundred meters away, a goat bleated softly. I had chained it down to the ground, waiting for something to happen. Soon enough, the infected creature came from an alley. It slowly limped towards the goat. Right before it slashed at the animal, I squeezed the trigger. The goat bleated as zombie brains splattered all over it's back. The creature stumbled for a while. Then it's brain finally realized it had been shot, and it flopped to the ground. The sound would be attracting much more, which is exactly what I wanted.
At first I thought the noise was zombies coming from behind me, but that didn't make sense, since it sounded how it did. A million different ideas of what was making that noise ran through my head. A plane was definitely one of the very last ones. I actually thought it was myself  making the noise before the word plane came into my head. It had been so long since I heard one. I couldn't believe it; maybe it was in my head. It can't be, I took my medication.
I wanted to turn my head, but I felt if I did, I might die, or see something I don't want to see. Soon enough, the sound got louder and closer until it was on top of me. I looked up, and there it was, my redemption. My savior. My way off this damned island. I realized the right wing was on fire. Then I realized it was dropping, fast. Then I cursed. I stared at it until it passed a building, disappearing from my view. I practically threw myself out of the car, almost spraining my ankles, but I couldn't care less. I ran as fast as I could, trying to figure out where the plane went. I ran, and ran, and ran. Surprisingly, nothing followed me. I heard a huge crash. The plane finally landed.
I ran towards the direction of the sound, until I got to the coast. At first I thought people might've survived, then I noticed the other two pieces of the plane, scattered all along the beach.
Imagine a watermelon exploding. Huge chunks chucked in all sorts of directions, and smaller little bits all over the place. That is what the crash site was like. The plane had obviously nose-dived onto the ground, because the front was reduced to rubble. The same fate had been met with both wings. At least the cabin was partially intact. The only problem, was that it was upside down, so it must've flipped a few times.
I hesitantly walked towards the destroyed plane, looking behind me every few seconds, incase something wanted to sneak up on me. I approached the wreck, my finger fiddling with the trigger. The whole scene smelt like fuel and burnt bodies. I had to force what little food I had ate in my stomach. Behind me, something fell. I turned around quickly and aimed my gun at the noise. A part of the plane had just fallen off. I put the rifle down, still weary. I'm complete silence, I would've gone crazy. Luckily, the background noises helped deal with the eerie feeling.
"Hello?" I called. Not too loud to broadcast my presence to the whole island, but loud enough for any survivors to hear.
I quietly stepped over the rubble, and into the plane. I gasped when I looked at my surroundings.

The walls of the plain looked like a Jackson Pollock painting. Blood, machine parts, and body parts were everywhere. In the years that I have been on this cursed island, I've seen a lot, but this scene put a nasty taste in my mouth. That was my trigger, I bent over, and there went the scraps and bugs I had for lunch.

I wiped my mouth, and continued my search. I looked into each isle. There were a small number of people who's seatbelt stayed intact through the chaos. But with force and whiplash of the cabin spinning. Pieces of metal and hard plastic protruded from all sorts of body parts, like a spike grenade had gone off in their stomach. One person was completely decapitated. The head stared right at me from the middle of the isle, taking a swim in it's own blood, a look of endless shock on their face. Maybe it was the smell getting to my head, but I swear I saw the thing blink.

My hope for survivors had diminished the second I saw the inside of the plane. Now, I just wanted resources. A radio. Food. Batteries. So far, I've only found one bag of cookies, I scarfed that down, which took about a minutes. I got to the front of the plane. The satellite phone hung from its base. I placed my gun on the floor, clicked in seven random numbers, and pressed it to my ear with way much more force then necessary. Several seconds went by, nothing. I slammed the receiver onto its base. Staying in that position, like a statue, I broke down. I thought of my mother and my father as tears flowed down my cheeks. I thought of their burial spot. I thought of how my mother would comfort me and tell me that it will be alright, even if it wouldn't be. Thinking about it did not make the situation any better.
Something dropped somewhere in the cabin, but I didn't flinch. I didn't look. I just cried. Then something dropped again, and one more time. I thought for a second. I knew it wasn't one of the infected. If it was, I wouldn't have heard it, and I would be dead right now. And I was fine with that. I looked into the direction of the noise. Realization dawned on me. I quickly wiped my tears away, grabbed my gun, and walked towards the noise, legs shaking the whole time. I raised my gun when I heard the noise again. Not a piece of shrapnel. It definitely wasn't an infected. It's knew now... it was a cough.
I zeroed in on the aisle ahead of me. My legs, arms, gun, and basically every part of my body were shaking. I looked into the aisle. My body froze, I stopped breathing. A girl my age sat in the middle seat. There was a huge piece of hard plastic in her thigh, and another in her groin. She was dead. Just a hallucination. Of course. There's no way any human could survive this type of disaster. I walked away with my head down. As I left the plane, there was another cough, and a very real, very female voice, said one thing.
"Help me."