We've updated our Content Guidelines.
Review the latest guidelines to keep sharing stories safely.
Infected
  • WpView
    Reads 270
  • WpVote
    Votes 17
  • WpPart
    Parts 15
WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing2h 18m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Sep 1, 2019
WpInfo
Fiction
Science Fiction
Zombies, I never believed in them. They were the villains of pointless novels. But as I stare at the rotting carcass of a man before me, I had to face the reality that they were in fact real. A decade ago, when the dead started coming back to life. People were terrified and didn't know who or what to believe. Some blamed the government, some even blamed God. I'd like to believe that I could trust people, even in extreme circumstances like this but hungry dogs are never loyal. My name is Alana Anderson and I'm immune to the zombie virus. It sounds even more ridiculous when I say it out loud. Sadly, Immunity isn't what everyone paints it to be. Ten teenagers including myself were given the cure to the zombie virus, what we do with that power is entirely up to us now.
All Rights Reserved
Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.
Illustration

You may also like

  • Ok, Who Got Bitten?
  • Finding Humanity
  • A Different Virus - Laura's Story
  • Life After Zombie
  • Post Plague Kidnapping - Published!
  • Hidden (Book 3 of the Immune Series)
  • A Different Virus: Heartfire
  • Not The Last {Rough Draft}
  • I Am Hybrid 1 The Origin
  • F*** Cancer, This One Did Us All In.

Right now, I'm squatting in a pile of human waste, desperately trying to get a signal on my phone. My friends are watching me reluctantly, their faces stained with blood and what I only hope is dirt. The light from my phone is illuminating their faces, casting light on the looks of horror that I have come to know all too well. My best friend is cradling her left arm, bandaged with a torn piece of cloth in hopes of stopping the blood flow. My sister can barely walk, and I think her hand is broken. She looks on the verge of tears. As we calm down, catching our breaths, I give up looking at my phone. I slowly turn to them, my own face crusted with blood. I look at each of them, one by one. "Ok, who got bitten?"

More details
WpActionLinkContent Guidelines