For Ellie, George, and Connor
(Because we could totally survive any apocalypse)
1
‘Hunter! Help! Don’t let the monsters get me!’ five year old Danny shouted as a rotting arm stuck through the barricaded windows grabbing him. By the time his older sister had reached him, he had a bite mark on his arm. Hunter jabbed her machete through the window and stabbed the zombie in the face, destroying the brain.
‘Hurry! The attic! Get in the attic before we alert the horde!’ Hunter said in an irregularly calm voice. Danny stumbled over to the ladder and quickly began climbing. Hunter shut it after her and they both sat on the dusty floor panting.
‘Hunter?’ Danny said in a weak voice. ‘It bit me.’ Tears began filling up his eyes. He was the only family Hunter had now that their parents were gone. He was her whole world.
‘I know. You are going to be fine. Look at me. You are going to be fine. I love you.’ She said in soft voice as she held the small child. She could feel the fever coming on already. He only had a few hours left until he turned. Her heart dropped. Once her baby brother was gone what was left for her here?
No, my brother is not dying sad and afraid. I won’t let him. She thought to herself. I’ll make the most of his last hours.
‘Wanna play snakes and ladders?’ She said.
‘Yeah,’ Danny said as a big smile stretched across his face.
They played board games and she let him eat all the cookies they managed to grab in the chaos. He felt ill, but still laughed and had fun. Hours later the floor was littered with board games and cookies crumbs and all of Danny’s favorite toys, including his red fire truck that he loved to scoot across the floor.
Danny’s health had completely deteriorated. His body was as limp as a ragdoll. Next to her sat a bucket filled with vomit. As awful the stench was, Hunter couldn’t even smell it. She was focused on her dying brother. His skin was burning in her hands. She knew he was going to die. This is it. She will never be able to play another board game with him or hear his giggle after he won. The tears began sliding down her face.
‘Please, stay with me.’ She whispered in his ear, ‘I love you.’
Minutes passed, although to Hunter it felt like hours. Danny’s burning skin begin to lose its heat. It soon became cold. Like fire turning into ice. He began to move in her arms.
‘Danny?’ Hunter asked knowing that her brother was gone. In response she got a moan. He reached for his sister, hungry for flesh.
‘I’m sorry Danny,’ she said. She got out her machete and stabbed her brother in the skull.
* * *
So, this is what the end of the world looks like. She looked at the TV screen where news of mass suicide and homicide flood in. The windows are all boarded and so are the doors. The floor is littered with food and water that could sustain an individual for about a week. All the lights are off, except the television. The volume is turned as low as it can go.
Hunter is fourteen years old. She is a sophomore, having skipped a grade. Her blonde hair is matted with blood and her brown eyes look terrified of what is to come. She is thin, though not very athletic. Honestly, the only good thing keeping her alive is her intelligence. She has always been interested in zombies. She read “The Zombie Survival Guide” by Max Brooks at least three times. Now it was actually happening. She felt awful now her brother was dead. Apart of her wanted to lay down and end it all, but another part of her forced her not to.
Hunter’s mind reeled through the week’s events. Who could have guessed that a new disease would create zombies? Ghouls who feel nothing but hunger for human flesh and mindlessly fought for it. Once bitten one would most certainly die, only to be replaced by a monster. The world is falling apart and there is nothing else to do but run and hide from those flesh-eating vacuums.
She looks down at her crowbar. There is still blood on it from earlier. Her little brother had become one of those things. She had sat with him until he died and reanimated. His black eyes when he had changed still haunt her.
You didn’t have a choice. It’s not your fault. He was gone. It wasn’t Danny that you killed. It was one of those things! He was gone. You didn’t kill him! Hunter kept trying to convince herself that it wasn’t Danny she killed.
He was such a sweet child. Only 5 years old and could read. Hunter remembers one time she was making a cake and he got into the cake batter and had devoured half of it. She laughed when she saw him covered from head to toe in batter. She helped clean him off and give him a bath.
‘No,’ she says as tears form in her eyes. ‘Too painful.’
Her mind skips to her parents. They went to work two days ago. They never returned… ‘No, not that either!’ She said angrily. Her mind seemed to want to focus on everything but the bright side. If there was one.
She opens a bag of Ritz crackers, her favorite, and turns off the television. She sits there in the dark concentrating on the taste alone.
After a while she takes out her cellphone. Its useless now, the lines don’t work. But it still makes a decent flashlight. She looks around at my supplies. Everything appears to be in check. She takes a towel and begins wiping down her crowbar and machete. Look out the tiny window circular window that’s covered by a blanket, she sees dark, shadowy figures limping and crawling around on the ground below. She glances at stars. They’re shining brighter than ever before now that most light pollution is gone.
Soon, the awful, deep-throated moans began ripping through the night air. They must have found food. She hears more moans and then some gunshots. ‘Moron. Guns are useless without being silenced! They only attract more…’ she mutters to herself. Eventually the screams and pleading will begin. She closes her eyes and waits for it to start. As her eyes fill with tears she settles down in her sleeping bag for a night filled with nightmares.
As she slept, zombies began to center around her own home. They must have noticed the movement in the window. They begin beating on the doors like mindless drones. She awakes dreaming of the moaning, only to realize its real. She freezes in fear. She can smell the scent of death radiating from the street below. The smell of vomit, blood, and feces is also prominent on the street; something only one can find refuge from with nose plugs.
She peers out the window and see hordes of zombies trying to break down the doors to her house. The realization hits. The attic is only prolonging her death. They can’t get her while she is up here. But how long can she stay up here without starving to death?
2
A mile away from Hunter on the outskirts of the city, two other children are in the same boat. Kate, who is eleven, and Edward, who is fifteen, are huddled in their upstairs bedroom. They have destroyed the staircase and are patiently waiting for salvation. Kate is a small, thin child. Her glasses give the appearance of huge, hazel eyes. Her brown hair gently curls as it falls to her shoulders. She glances at Edward, her brother. He is shorter than most kids his age. He is merely 5’2. He is in a state of panic and hysteria as he begins to sob uncontrollably.
‘Edward?’ Kate says quietly, ‘Edward, you need to stop. If those things hear you they will come and try to eat us. Please, be quiet.’
‘Every- ever- everyone is de- dead!’ He shouted as his body began to shake and his eyes got puffier.
‘Edward! Shut up!’ She said harshly, yet quietly. ‘Please!’ He continued to ignore his younger sister. Her patience and fear pushed her and finally she slapped him in the face.
‘Wha- what was that for?!’ Edward shouted.
‘Shut up. You need to shut up. You need to be quiet. Please, just shut up!’ She said, begging him. That seemed to get his attention. They sat there for a while on the bed, staring at the eggshell colored walls.
‘This bedroom was always bland wasn’t it?’ Kate whispered.
‘Yeah. I guess so.’ Edward said.
‘What are we going to do?’ She asked, looking up at her brother.
‘I don’t know,’ He replied.
3
Blake was on his new motocross he found. He made sure his katana was easily accessible and began driving. He was heading east. He didn’t have a destination in mind. He was just driving, hoping that something good may come along.
An athletic boy of thirteen, with rich parents, Blake got all the things he could wish for. He wanted boy things, like a motocross bike or a lethal weapon. He had friends, but refused to think of their demise, instead he distracted himself by traveling. He knew it was dangerous, but with nothing to live for, it didn’t seem to make a difference.
He took only the back roads that most people didn’t know. He still found the occasional car splattered with blood. On those occasions he would take out his katana, try to drain the vehicle of gas and then continue his drive. If he saw a zombie he would speed up and slice the sword through its neck. Usually after that he would laugh or smile. And say, ‘Like a boss’, praising himself.
At night he slept in the trees. During the day he rode and killed. He enjoyed his schedule and felt invincible.
It’s unclear rather he was courageous or stupid, or perhaps a mixture of both.
He ran across another town. The towns were what challenged him. Entertained him and amused him. His method of looting was mainly focused on being stealthy. He enjoyed evading the zombies. He enjoyed the risk. Although there had been some close calls, he was still alive.
Proof, he thought, that I am a beast.
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Im writing this for my siblings. I know it needs a lot of work. Hopefully the chapters will get longer later on. :p
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