It Started With a Bang

Prologue

Song: Dead Walker Texas Ranger by Sleeping with Sirens. It's the song that triggered the initial idea of this book and so I thought I'd add it here :) enjoy!
Frank skidded to a halt at the top of the slope, the stench of diseased and rotting flesh hit his throat. Below him, dark shapes swarmed around what used to be his home and the streets around it. Flames lit up the night as they engulfed the house, reaching up like talons clawing apart the sky.
Frank shook his head to clear the numbing horror that had gripped him. Had his parents made it out okay? Where were they now? Where they safe?
He crouched down in the bracken, breathing heavily and clutching the knife held in his hand, his backpack slung over one shoulder.
They'd come so fast, he hadn't had enough time to react. The government had closed the city after a disease broke out, turning anyone who caught it into a decaying monster. It was so bizarre it could have come out of a comic book. But it hadn't. It was real and it was here.
His parents had locked their house down, taking refuge inside it despite the fact the city had mandated everyone reported to a safe building in North Carolina. It had been a silent and peaceful dinner, just like any evening after Belleville had been abandoned, when a screeching in the distance split the silence. A mob of the diseased had come parading through the neighbourhood, demolishing anything in their way in hopes of finding new victims to feast on.
His father had thrown a grenade as they all retreated from their once-safe haven, but it hadn't seemed to do anything as hundreds of diseased zombie-like creatures still surrounded the flaming home. Frank had ran up the hill behind his house as quickly as he could, not having caught what direction his mother and father had gone.
He coughed, choking on the soot and ash that filled the air, stinging the back of his throat. What now? Where did he go? He had no clue how to survive on his own. The knife he was holding hadn't even touched a person, let alone killed one. He was only seventeen; he'd always depended on his mother to feed him and his father to protect him.
But now he was alone. He was alone, and he was more afraid than he'd ever been in his life. He'd never survive a day in the barren cities; the zombies - or whatever they were - would feast on him before the sun could even rise.
Frank shook his head again. No, he wouldn't think like that. Couldn't think like that. The zombies had moved on from the burning structure and started wandering into the hills, towards him. He didn't have time to wait for his parents. He could only pray to whatever entity was out there that they would be alright.
He cautiously stood from the bracken and took a quick glance around. Nothing had reacted to his movement. He slunk past the trees and carefully made his way down the other side of the hill, using rocks and natural crevices in the hill to keep him from losing his footing. Once he reached the bottom without mishap, he took another look at his surroundings.
It wasn't as if he didn't know where he was, he did. In fact, he knew this town better than the back of his own hand. He spent all seventeen years of his life in tiny old Belleville; he knew every tree, building, rock, and person who lived there. The new issue was the zombies. He'd begun to refer to them as zombies considering he had read enough comic books and seen enough movies to know how to survive around them, and if they were anything else...well he'd probably be fucked.
Even in the dim lighting of the street lights and broken store signs, it was clear Frank was alone, so he slunk through the shadows, heading towards a convenient store nearby.
A friend of his used to work there; he had a key in his bag to the workroom. There he would be able to take refuge and with luck, the mini fridge and loft bed would still be there. He would spend the night there and decide where to go in the morning.
He reached the run down store and pulled on the handle; to his surprise it was unlocked and it creaked as Frank swung it open, wincing as the bells overhead rung their familiar tune.
He carefully shut the glass door behind him as silently as he could and looked around.
There was broken glass all over the floor, the source of it unbeknownst to Frank. It crunches under his feet as he walked blindly around the store, searching for a source of light. He headed toward the counter, mentally cheering in victory as his hand brushed a small lighter. He clicked it and the small flame dimly lit up the room, enough for him to see what was around him.
He wasn't too concerned about the zombies tracking him via the light of the tiny fire in his hand. As far as he could tell, their eyesight was awful but they could track through sound and scent better than a bloodhound ever could.
Now that he could see the store more clearly, he could tell just how much of a disaster the place was. Shelves were broken and knocked over, merchandise torn apart and scattered over the floor. There was a large pool of red that Frank could only assume was blood in the corner of the store. He could also see the source of all the broken glass; two of the freezer doors were shattered and their frames were smeared with blood. A piece of tattered cloth hung on a shard of glass still attached to the door. Frank shuddered at the sight and turned around to head behind the counter and enter the back room.
He swung off his backpack and set it on the floor, digging through it to find the key. He found it at last and placed it through the hole in the doorknob, sighing with relief as the door clicked open.
He quickly grabbed the lighter and his bag, slipping inside the room and locking the door behind him. He pulled the small chain above him and the room illuminated with the small lightbulb on the ceiling.
Frank had been right; the loft bed was there along with the mini fridge, which was even on and had a few waters and a pop inside. He eagerly grabbed the pop and a bag of chips nearby and climbed to the top of the bed, curling in comfortably among the sheets.
He couldn't stay here; Frank knew he couldn't. With each passing day, more and more of Belleville was getting infected and he would too if he continued to hide there. He closed his eyes and sighed. He would make his way to North Carolina come morning and with luck, his parents would be there too, waiting for him.