Categories > Original > Horror > Zombie Apocalypse
The world as mankind knew it came to an end on December 21, 2012, but not in the way most people believed. Earth wasn’t destroyed by a meteor. It didn’t freeze over and there was no nuclear war that left the landscape scarred. In fact, it took over a month for doctors to pin point the exact day everything started. December 21, 2012 was the day Patient Zero was rolled into Boston Memorial Hospital. He was the father of two little boys and a husband to an adoring woman. His family called an ambulance in the afternoon after he returned home from work early feeling ill. Within half an hour, he had started to convulse. Over the next couple of hours, nurses and doctors were rushing in and out of Patient Zero’s room in the ICU. Red patches on his skin were slowly eating away at his flesh, but tests showed it wasn’t any of the known perpetrators. The DNA strand attached to the virus that was swiftly overtaking the man’s body was completely alien; nobody had ever come across such a thing. At the end of the third hour Patient Zero flat lined. The attending doctor called it and laid a sheet over the dead body. With a somber expression on his face, he left the room to give the family the bad news. He wasn’t half way through the consolation when a nurse with a fearful look came running down the hallway. Streaks of fresh blood stained her white jacket. In hushed tones, the nurse hurriedly explained that the man had risen mere moments after the doctor left. He’d stumbled off the gurney and bitten a chunk of flesh out of a nearby orderly’s neck. That orderly had been the second victim of what came to be called the zombie virus. The nightmarish creatures from the horror movies had found their way into reality and were wreaking a bloody havoc on everyone in their path. In two months time, the virus had become a real problem. People were warned to remain in their homes. Government broadcasts described the symptoms that people needed to be on the lookout for: rapidly decayed skin, bloodshot eyes, inability to communicate, among others.
From that point on, mass panic spread like wildfire. There were riots in the streets and little by little, the government disappeared. In six months time the population of Earth had dropped dramatically. It was a miracle if a person ran into another living human being in a month. Zombies roamed freely, devouring anybody foolish enough to venture outside. The best way to survive was to travel in groups, whether it was for strength in numbers or someone to trip when running from a hoard.
Sarah was lucky enough to find a group of survivors who preferred to treat each other like family instead of liabilities. It was lucky in itself that she’d stayed alive this long. At nineteen, she was only five foot one and had no muscle mass to speak of. However, Sarah’s slim figure soon proved to be an irreplaceable asset. She could slip past zombie hoards unnoticed as well as doing so quickly. And with practice, she became the group’s best shot. Before the virus, Sarah’s father had frequently taken her to the shooting range. Now her skills were being put to use and she was glad to have people glad to have her.
The hot June sun beat down on Sarah’s back as she skirted the main streets of a desecrated city. It looked like every other city they’d passed through; wreckage and half-eaten bodies littered the roads. Buildings still smoldered and every other store was ransacked. Cars were beaten into pieces—whether it was from desperate survivors or raging zombies Sarah didn’t know. Brushing the sweat from her brow, she pulled her chocolate hair back into a ponytail. June was hot enough without it being in Texas. Her breaths came in sharp, ragged gasps. She’d been out in the city searching for supplies since dawn and the sun was past its middle mark in the sky. The backpack strapped over Sarah’s back was regrettably light.
Making her way down the street through alleys and over roofs, she finally reached a convenience store that hadn’t been picked clean. It was tucked away between two large buildings with big wig names and expensive looking furniture inside.
Sarah tried the door and found it slid open on silent hinges. She closed it behind her, but left the locking for after she’d cleared every room. Her group had once been comprised of fifteen people. Now, it was five. Over the months, Sarah had learned that it pays to check out a place first before going to town taking whatever supplies are needed. They lost two members a few months back to that oversight. This time, though, no zombies were hiding behind aisles or in the bathrooms. Using a dislodged bench from outside, Sarah barricaded the door shut and began to fill the backpack with water, food, and medicine. As she was removing the bench afterwards, a low moan reached her ears. It was coming from outside and not too far off. Sarah slipped around the corner and scaled the convenience store using the dumpster against the wall to reach the roof and investigate the noise.
The instant Sarah got to her feet on the roof, she dropped to her stomach. She bit her lip against the pain of the hot concrete. She rolled around onto her back and unsheathed a walkie-talkie from the backpack’s side pocket.
“John,” Sarah whispered into the receiver. “John, are you there?”
There was a moment of static before a deep voice replied, “I’m here. What’s up?”
Sarah rolled back onto her stomach and crawled to the edge of the roof. Cautiously, she peeked above the ridge that surrounded the perimeter and took a second look. A hoard of zombies numbering fifty at least was converging on the city. They shuffled down the streets, sometimes wandering off in another direction, but always coming back to rejoin the group when no food was found. They were far enough away that Sarah would stay hidden if she stayed low, but close enough that the group’s house was no longer a safe haven. The zombies would reach the neighborhood in a few days. Sarah relayed all the information to John, the head of their little family.
“Then head home right now,” John instructed. “We’ll stay one more night. We’ll start packing tomorrow morning and head out around afternoon. Got it?”
“Got it,” Sarah answered. She was already dropping to the ground when she added, “I’m headed home right now.”
Legs pumping, she raced down the streets, daring to run into the open for time’s sake. If a zombie happened to be in the area, she could quickly and easily dispatch it and continue on. Her family had done a good job clearing out the neighborhood before moving it, but daily patrols were always a good idea anyway. Turning a corner, cutting across a once kempt lawn, the house came into sight. It was a simple, one story abode with a wraparound porch and a wooden bench which was suspended from the awning. It was impossible to see from the outside, but the house was covered in traps and fortifications. Sheets of thick metal were attached to the top of all the windows so that they could be pulled down and secured at night to keep zombies out while everyone slept. Sarah had come across a downed military vehicle before meeting the group and had used the explosives she’d found to create a minefield of sorts all around the house. Picking her through the invisible maze, Sarah made it to the front door and knocked on the door. It opened a minute later and she was pulled inside.
Mary, the surrogate mother of the family, held Sarah in a tight hug. She stood back and surveyed her. She tucked some stray side swept bangs behind Sarah’s ear and smiled at her like she really was her own daughter. Any stranger would assume they were. Mary had the same hue of brown hair as Sarah and even the same kind of eyes; warm and kind, but terrifying when angry. On the other hand, Mary had olive skin and—while Sarah did have some Italian in her—her skin was porcelain white.
“I was so worried,” Mary said. “John told me what you said and I was afraid you wouldn’t be coming back.”
Sarah blushed and shrugged, as if seeing the walking dead didn’t scare her anymore. “I got out okay, didn’t I?”
“I suppose so,” Mary muttered. “But I still don’t like how we have to send you out to do these errands and so many other dangerous jobs. You’re the youngest here. Shouldn’t we be protecting you? Not the other way around?”
“Oh, lay off it,” laughed Ethan.
If Ethan was someone in the surrogate family, he’d be the mischievous brother, along with Daniel. Ethan had blonde hair, styled up in a fauxhawk, and striking blue eyes. His body was toned from years of athletic participation before the dead started to rise. Daniel was a few years older. He had brown hair and brown eyes. He was the muscle of the family. He was a good two feet taller than Sarah and had muscles to spare. In his former life, he’d been a marine.
Then John entered the room. He wasn’t the tallest or the strongest, but he expelled an air of authority that no one dared question. He had broad shoulders and dark skin. Sarah wasn’t quite sure, but if she had to guess, she would say he was part Indian. His hair was cut close to his head, unruly stubble beginning to grow on the rest of his face.
“What do you have for us, Sarah?” John asked.
Sarah dumped the contents of the backpack onto the carpeted floor.
“I could do a quick run tomorrow morning,” she offered. “There was a lot more I didn’t have room for. I could bring another bag and—.”
John held up his hand and Sarah fell silent. “I don’t want to risk your safety.”
That was the end of the conversation. Mary told everyone to wash up for dinner and they gathered around the table. There wasn’t much food to go around, but everyone tried to act like they didn’t notice their supply was rapidly depleting. Everyone returned to the living room and, one by one, they fell asleep while John remained awake. He kept his eyes and ears open and wandered around the house to keep himself awake.
When Sarah woke up in the middle of the night, at first she thought the noises she was hearing were from John. Then as her consciousness returned more and more, she realized it was coming from outside. What intrigued Sarah so much was that it was the sound of running feet pounding against the asphalt. Zombies didn’t run, which could only mean there were people outside. Her heart leapt into her throat as she scrambled to the window and slowly raised the metal covering. Squinting through the darkness, she could just make out a pair of figure coming down the street towards their end. Sarah shook Daniel, but he just shoved her away and went back to sleep. Ethan did the same. If she didn’t act fast, the people might pass them. She sprinted from the living room into the kitchen, but John wasn’t there. When he didn’t appear the room she checked next, Sarah decided to go it alone.
The clicking of the locks echoed throughout the house. They seemed so loud, they might wake up her family, but nobody moved. She nudged open the door and peered out. The people were within shouting distance now. Sarah grabbed the nearest gun and raced out to meet them.
The figures caught sight of Sarah and turned to her. As they neared, she could see they were two men. One was much younger than the other, maybe only a few years older than her. His face betrayed just how terrified he was. Sweat beaded across his forehead and he breathed heavily. The older man wore a stony expression, but his body language made it obvious he was on edge as well.
“Have you got a place around here?” The older one asked.
“Yeah,” Sarah whispered. She jerked her head behind her. “My family and I are staying right over there. Where’d you—?”
“We don’t have time for questions!” The man hissed. “They’re right behind us!”
“Who?”
“Who do you think?” The man exclaimed, exasperated. “The zombies!”
From that point on, mass panic spread like wildfire. There were riots in the streets and little by little, the government disappeared. In six months time the population of Earth had dropped dramatically. It was a miracle if a person ran into another living human being in a month. Zombies roamed freely, devouring anybody foolish enough to venture outside. The best way to survive was to travel in groups, whether it was for strength in numbers or someone to trip when running from a hoard.
Sarah was lucky enough to find a group of survivors who preferred to treat each other like family instead of liabilities. It was lucky in itself that she’d stayed alive this long. At nineteen, she was only five foot one and had no muscle mass to speak of. However, Sarah’s slim figure soon proved to be an irreplaceable asset. She could slip past zombie hoards unnoticed as well as doing so quickly. And with practice, she became the group’s best shot. Before the virus, Sarah’s father had frequently taken her to the shooting range. Now her skills were being put to use and she was glad to have people glad to have her.
The hot June sun beat down on Sarah’s back as she skirted the main streets of a desecrated city. It looked like every other city they’d passed through; wreckage and half-eaten bodies littered the roads. Buildings still smoldered and every other store was ransacked. Cars were beaten into pieces—whether it was from desperate survivors or raging zombies Sarah didn’t know. Brushing the sweat from her brow, she pulled her chocolate hair back into a ponytail. June was hot enough without it being in Texas. Her breaths came in sharp, ragged gasps. She’d been out in the city searching for supplies since dawn and the sun was past its middle mark in the sky. The backpack strapped over Sarah’s back was regrettably light.
Making her way down the street through alleys and over roofs, she finally reached a convenience store that hadn’t been picked clean. It was tucked away between two large buildings with big wig names and expensive looking furniture inside.
Sarah tried the door and found it slid open on silent hinges. She closed it behind her, but left the locking for after she’d cleared every room. Her group had once been comprised of fifteen people. Now, it was five. Over the months, Sarah had learned that it pays to check out a place first before going to town taking whatever supplies are needed. They lost two members a few months back to that oversight. This time, though, no zombies were hiding behind aisles or in the bathrooms. Using a dislodged bench from outside, Sarah barricaded the door shut and began to fill the backpack with water, food, and medicine. As she was removing the bench afterwards, a low moan reached her ears. It was coming from outside and not too far off. Sarah slipped around the corner and scaled the convenience store using the dumpster against the wall to reach the roof and investigate the noise.
The instant Sarah got to her feet on the roof, she dropped to her stomach. She bit her lip against the pain of the hot concrete. She rolled around onto her back and unsheathed a walkie-talkie from the backpack’s side pocket.
“John,” Sarah whispered into the receiver. “John, are you there?”
There was a moment of static before a deep voice replied, “I’m here. What’s up?”
Sarah rolled back onto her stomach and crawled to the edge of the roof. Cautiously, she peeked above the ridge that surrounded the perimeter and took a second look. A hoard of zombies numbering fifty at least was converging on the city. They shuffled down the streets, sometimes wandering off in another direction, but always coming back to rejoin the group when no food was found. They were far enough away that Sarah would stay hidden if she stayed low, but close enough that the group’s house was no longer a safe haven. The zombies would reach the neighborhood in a few days. Sarah relayed all the information to John, the head of their little family.
“Then head home right now,” John instructed. “We’ll stay one more night. We’ll start packing tomorrow morning and head out around afternoon. Got it?”
“Got it,” Sarah answered. She was already dropping to the ground when she added, “I’m headed home right now.”
Legs pumping, she raced down the streets, daring to run into the open for time’s sake. If a zombie happened to be in the area, she could quickly and easily dispatch it and continue on. Her family had done a good job clearing out the neighborhood before moving it, but daily patrols were always a good idea anyway. Turning a corner, cutting across a once kempt lawn, the house came into sight. It was a simple, one story abode with a wraparound porch and a wooden bench which was suspended from the awning. It was impossible to see from the outside, but the house was covered in traps and fortifications. Sheets of thick metal were attached to the top of all the windows so that they could be pulled down and secured at night to keep zombies out while everyone slept. Sarah had come across a downed military vehicle before meeting the group and had used the explosives she’d found to create a minefield of sorts all around the house. Picking her through the invisible maze, Sarah made it to the front door and knocked on the door. It opened a minute later and she was pulled inside.
Mary, the surrogate mother of the family, held Sarah in a tight hug. She stood back and surveyed her. She tucked some stray side swept bangs behind Sarah’s ear and smiled at her like she really was her own daughter. Any stranger would assume they were. Mary had the same hue of brown hair as Sarah and even the same kind of eyes; warm and kind, but terrifying when angry. On the other hand, Mary had olive skin and—while Sarah did have some Italian in her—her skin was porcelain white.
“I was so worried,” Mary said. “John told me what you said and I was afraid you wouldn’t be coming back.”
Sarah blushed and shrugged, as if seeing the walking dead didn’t scare her anymore. “I got out okay, didn’t I?”
“I suppose so,” Mary muttered. “But I still don’t like how we have to send you out to do these errands and so many other dangerous jobs. You’re the youngest here. Shouldn’t we be protecting you? Not the other way around?”
“Oh, lay off it,” laughed Ethan.
If Ethan was someone in the surrogate family, he’d be the mischievous brother, along with Daniel. Ethan had blonde hair, styled up in a fauxhawk, and striking blue eyes. His body was toned from years of athletic participation before the dead started to rise. Daniel was a few years older. He had brown hair and brown eyes. He was the muscle of the family. He was a good two feet taller than Sarah and had muscles to spare. In his former life, he’d been a marine.
Then John entered the room. He wasn’t the tallest or the strongest, but he expelled an air of authority that no one dared question. He had broad shoulders and dark skin. Sarah wasn’t quite sure, but if she had to guess, she would say he was part Indian. His hair was cut close to his head, unruly stubble beginning to grow on the rest of his face.
“What do you have for us, Sarah?” John asked.
Sarah dumped the contents of the backpack onto the carpeted floor.
“I could do a quick run tomorrow morning,” she offered. “There was a lot more I didn’t have room for. I could bring another bag and—.”
John held up his hand and Sarah fell silent. “I don’t want to risk your safety.”
That was the end of the conversation. Mary told everyone to wash up for dinner and they gathered around the table. There wasn’t much food to go around, but everyone tried to act like they didn’t notice their supply was rapidly depleting. Everyone returned to the living room and, one by one, they fell asleep while John remained awake. He kept his eyes and ears open and wandered around the house to keep himself awake.
When Sarah woke up in the middle of the night, at first she thought the noises she was hearing were from John. Then as her consciousness returned more and more, she realized it was coming from outside. What intrigued Sarah so much was that it was the sound of running feet pounding against the asphalt. Zombies didn’t run, which could only mean there were people outside. Her heart leapt into her throat as she scrambled to the window and slowly raised the metal covering. Squinting through the darkness, she could just make out a pair of figure coming down the street towards their end. Sarah shook Daniel, but he just shoved her away and went back to sleep. Ethan did the same. If she didn’t act fast, the people might pass them. She sprinted from the living room into the kitchen, but John wasn’t there. When he didn’t appear the room she checked next, Sarah decided to go it alone.
The clicking of the locks echoed throughout the house. They seemed so loud, they might wake up her family, but nobody moved. She nudged open the door and peered out. The people were within shouting distance now. Sarah grabbed the nearest gun and raced out to meet them.
The figures caught sight of Sarah and turned to her. As they neared, she could see they were two men. One was much younger than the other, maybe only a few years older than her. His face betrayed just how terrified he was. Sweat beaded across his forehead and he breathed heavily. The older man wore a stony expression, but his body language made it obvious he was on edge as well.
“Have you got a place around here?” The older one asked.
“Yeah,” Sarah whispered. She jerked her head behind her. “My family and I are staying right over there. Where’d you—?”
“We don’t have time for questions!” The man hissed. “They’re right behind us!”
“Who?”
“Who do you think?” The man exclaimed, exasperated. “The zombies!”
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