Remember how I said I wouldn't be writing in the future? Well I kinda got bored... Sneak Peak for a little original story I'll be writing these next few days; I'll post the whole thing if I feel like it's good enough:
It had only been a couple months since the power went out. Then the water. Then the radios stopped working. Or no one was transmitting anymore. Or there just wasn’t anyone left to.
It had only been a few months since the streets had been flooded by corpses. Corpses that shuffled, walked, ran, and everything in between, driven by an insatiable hunger to make more of their own kind by forcing others to become what they were. Corpses. Corpses that shuffled, walked, ran and everything in between.
19-year-old Jim Moran hefted his big red backpack, his arm struggling slightly under the weight until the strap hooked his shoulder, then his other arm wove its way through the other loop. His back buckled under the combined weight of his backpack and his exhaustion.