Originally this was posted on my Teenink account, which is why it's so short.This story has been highly edited. A new beginning has been added, and the original story has been tweaked, things added to make it better. And the ending is more sweet, in a dark kind of way. But kind none the less.
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I was curled up on the couch like a cat. Hugging a navy blue pillow. Brown hair obscured my vision. I didn't bother to brush it away. Lately I found myself not feeling like doing anything but wait. Waiting and hoping. Waiting for hope. Hope that this will all end with it not spreading any further.
My mom, dad, and little brother were all outside. My parents were talking with our neighbors about the new guy in town. Not just any normal guy, this guy was weird. They say he is real skittish, flinching at almost every sound. Some locals with a dark sense of humor say he may have come from one of the infected states.
I like to believe he's just playing a sick April Fool's joke on us. But what is happening throughout the world is no joke. All businesses are shut down. And hope is running out for some. I squeezed the pillow with a new force.
Everyone thought it was only an isolated incident. We had no idea that it would spread all over Europe. First it was Britain, then the RAGE infected humans spread all the way to Paris, France. The slaughter was horrendous. Tourists and locals alike were torn to shreds. If they were lucky.
Those that did not have the fortune to die from their bite marks endured agony like no man was meant to suffer. But that was not the worst of it. No, after they lost their humanity in their torture, they instantly transformed into rampaging beasts. Everybody just called them zombies. However, unlike in those cheesy films, these zombies ran like track stars. They left nothing but destruction in their wake.
A quarantine of half a dozen European countries was called. But two years passed, and no means of containment were found. Nuking the countries was an option. But no one wanted to end the human race in a nuclear winter. So the idea was locked away. Within weeks after the initial two years, the infected died.
We all thought it was the end of the horror. Nobody knew that the virus had mutated. Though the new strand was slower acting, the inevitable transformation of people into feral lunatics was the same. What was most disturbing of all was that eventually, it became all but impossible to tell who was a carrier with just the naked eye. Those who were in contact with the infected and were not changed themselves kept their contact secret. It was the worst decision they could ever make.
Planes were boarded, and not all the passengers were human nor animal. The deadly pathogens RAGE were the VIP travelers. As the planes landed on every point of the globe, the virus stepped off just like any other passenger. Within days, the world was altered forever. Streets became killing grounds.
Aerial footage showed what appeared to be riots. But in actuality, it was a feeding frenzy. Riot control officers and the National Guard could only do so much before they were overcome by the mobs. Mobs that had lost their humanity. Or perhaps, perhaps they had reverted to humanity. Can that be true? Are we just embracing our primal side? Killing is nothing new for our race. After all, we've been doing it for ages.
I like to believe deep down inside that we are all sympathetic beings. It wrenches my heart every time I hear of another murder or about the mounting casualties in war. And it hurts me even more to know that it happens at every moment. They say you can count out how many people die just by- oh... I just can't, can't go on.
Me and my family are safe at the moment. It hasn't reached this region of America. But we all know that it's coming. When it does, we'll all face it together. We've discussed fleeing, but where would we go? There is no escaping this thing and we know it. But I guess moving somewhere with no people will ensure that we'll last longer.
Last longer. Is that all that we have to look forward to every second our hearts beat? This isn't my usual train of thought. I really am an optimist. At least, whenever I don't listen to the news.
I sprang off the plush living room couch as the phone rang in the kitchen. I practically skipped over to the ringing phone, almost tripping on one of my brother's toy cars. OK, so it wasn't a car. It was a blue Thomas the Tank Engine. I smiled as I bent over and carefully gathered it in my arms. Franklin was always leaving the items of his wild imagination adventures around the house.
Still clutching the toy and reached out for the phone. I held it to my ear and said, "Hello?"
"Stacey!" came the hysteric voice of my friend Katie. "Remember that weird new guy!?"
I nodded, and remembering she couldn't see the gesture said, "Yes." How could I forget? In a town this small anything out of the ordinary was the talk of the town.
"They shot him!" she blurted.
I could hear people in the background. Mumbling undecipherable blabber. "They what!? Who?" I said. I could not believe what I was hearing.
"The cops did! It was awful Stacey! One minute me and my mom were exiting out of the mall and the next second we-"
"You were looting!" I demanded, cutting her off.
"No, me and my mom just thought we'd get out for once, we left money, hidden. But Stacey, listen to me! The cops shot him in the face! But then..." Katie paused. It was clear from her breathing that she was crying. "Oh Stacey, the cops started shooting other people. They say the crazy man... they say he started biting people. Me, my mom, and everybody else ran back into the mall," Katie paused again. "It's happening."
That was all I needed to hear. "Katie, whatever you do don't go outside. Barricade yourself on the roof if you have have to, but don't let them get you!" I ordered. Feeling tears build up.
"I won't Stacey," Katie said, letting her tears pour out full throttle. "You can count on me. But you and your family get out of here as soon as you can, you hear me?"
"Katie sweetheart, run!" a woman's voice said. And then the screaming began. Katie's phone clicked off.
Taking in all that I had just heard I released my hold on my brother's Thomas the Tank Engine. It clattered on the ground, snapping me out of my trance. I left the phone dangling as I rushed to tell my family. It clanged back and forth against the wall.
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Snarls and screams echoed throughout the neighborhood. Me and my family were gathered in the living room, as quiet as a grave. There was no reason to attract the attention of the infected. We had just gotten through barricading the doors and windows the best we could. All of us shared the mutual feeling of fear. I shivered each time a new scream pierced the silence. A sunny day had become bloody when the new guy entered town and ran through the streets like a mad man.
Little did people know he was infected with the same virus that had decimated many European countries overseas. Suddenly a bloodcurdling shriek neared my house and then the sound of running footsteps pounded out the house walls. My four year old brother Franklin hugged his mother and sniffled as quietly as he could. I found myself wishing my dad owned a gun.
I held my breath as the infected humans footsteps faded. But then a new fear entered my mind. Were we ever going to get out of here? Why didn't we leave sooner? I clasped my hands together, strangling them as if to make them stop shaking. My little brother only weeped.
A car's motor roared down the street and my ears heard the sickening thud of flesh as the driver drove through the sea of both zombies out in the street. And there were probably normal humans in that sea as well. I gulped, forcing down bile. My heart was pounding so fiercely in my chest I was sure the zombies would hear it.
"Shh, shh, Frankie don't listen to it. Mommy won't let anything happen to her children," my mom said in an effort to try and sooth my little brother.
Suddenly there was pounding on the front door. I covered my mouth, muffling a scream. "Open up let me in! Please!" a man's voice yelled from outside. I removed my hand from my mouth in surprise. The voice sounded vaguely familiar.
"He's not infected," my dad said already running toward the door. I followed close behind, carrying a baseball bat. The man continued to pound at the door.
"Sir stop the noise! You'll attract them!" I said as I helped dad remove the large cabinet that was propped against the door aside. Suddenly, the man outside was slammed against the door with such force that the lock almost gave way.
The man outside screamed. I opened the mail-slot to see what had happened. Pinned underneath a zombie was the lifeless body of a black man. It took me a second to decipher his bloodied face. It was Michael. One of my dad's friends. No, his best friend.
I quickly slammed it shut when the zombies blood red eyes peeked up at me. But I had just enough time to witness more zombies as they ran up the lawn, toward my house.
"It saw me, hurry dad put the cabinet against the door again!" I said. We gripped the large cabinet and started pushing it against the door. My shaking fingers almost couldn't get a hold of the cabinet.
Once the cabinet was secure I turned to face my dad. "Dad," I whispered, "it was Michael."
For a moment my dad was silent, and then he looked down at me. "He's one of," he hesitated, "them?"
I shook my head. "Daddy, I'm sorry he's," I just couldn't bear to tell him this. "He's dead," I finally whispered. My vision became hazy, and I felt tears moisten my cheeks. Michale was a good friend of the entire family. I could still remember the day when he taught me to ride my bike. Since my dad had never ridden in one he hadn't consider himself a good mentor.
"We're all going to miss him," my dad whispered, "dearly. He helped me through so much. Michael never let me wander in the fog of depression for long. He was always there for me."
I nodded. What was even more tragic was that Michael had no immediate family. He never married and his parents were both long dead. Brothers and sisters were all but non-existent apparitions for him, for he was an only child. "Rest in peace Michael," I found my self saying. "Spread your wings of love and fly."
"Yes," my dad whispered.
We lay stood here, with our spines pressed against the cabinet for what could have been hours. The rest of my family peering at us from the living room. Their eyes asking us what had us so devastated.
Almost immediately the house was filled with the sounds of snarling and hissing of the infected slamming their fists and bodies against the house walls, doors, and windows. My sister screamed every time a window shattered.
I heard glass clink sprinkle on the floor. "What do we do now!?" I said grabbing a hold of my dad.
"We make a break for it. Everybody we need to make a break for the car!" he said motioning for everyone in the living room to get up. They did, my brother still clinging to his mother like a marsupial.
I flinched when one of our barricades gave way and zombies poured into the house. They pounding on the front of the house stopped as the zombies seemed to realize that there was a way in now. Multiple poundings sounded in my parents room door to the hall.
"Run! Run!" I said making a break for the front door. My mom and dad helped me cast aside the cabinet which fell against the wall. I threw open the door and the zombies that were pounding at my parent's room door, busted it open. Their crazed cries were the last I heard before my mom closed the front door on them.
A pack of zombies was surrounding a house on the other side of the street. They didn't notice our vulnerability. We ran to my dad's car and piled in. My dad shoved the keys in the ignition and twisted it. The engine roared to life.
As if that had been the dinner bell dozens of zombies from all over the neighborhood charged toward us. Their combined screams of unquenchable blood lust was deafening. My dad pulled back out of the driveway and switched the car into another gear and slammed down on the gas.
The zombies behind and around us continued to run after us like rabid dogs after the mailman. At every new intersection that we passed we drew more and more zombies to car. All the way out of town my little brother continued to sob.
I worried about all my friends who might still be trapped in town or worse. When we neared the out skirts of town my dad had to break and weave around a whale sized eighteen wheeler that was turned over on its side in the middle of the road.
I felt my heart stop when I saw what waited for us on the other side. A military quarantine had been set up around the town! The soldiers raised their weapons.
"Lower your weapons privates! They're not infected!" barked their captain.
They obeyed, but their unease remained. They let us pass, but we had to let them escort us to wherever it was they were taking us. I secretly feared we'd be turned into human guinea pigs. Or worse, that we'd all be executed and cremated. I wouldn't put it passed them. We did come from an infected zone.
But much to my unbelieving shock, and that of my parents, they let us go free once they directed us a safe distance from town. The Captain's last words to us were, "Good luck my friends. But never forget, fate is what you make of it." With a salute he departed from us. And now here we were, traveling down a lonely stretch of highway. Our hometown still visible behind us, should we wish to look into the rear view mirror, or turn around.
"Where will we go daddy?" Franklin asked.
"We don't know son," my dad said. "But I promise you, we will get there."
Franklin only stared at him with innocent tear glazed brown eyes. His father's eyes. They were also mine. We shared eyes, and we were inseparably. I reached out for his hand and he was quick to entwine his tiny fingers around mine.
I smiled. Let them try and break the chain of love of my family. I shut my eyes as the sonic booms whooshed over head. But nothing in my power could tune out the violent tremors of the Earth as the bombs set my town ablaze. Tears seeped out of my tightly shut eyelids. They were meant for all my friends who didn't make it out.
But in all honesty, everybody was my friend. After all, we are all cut from the same piece. We are only human.
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