My life? Lunch

May 12, 2007 at 7:00 pm (Fiction, Survival Story, Undead, Zombie)

My brother yelled at my Mom and me to run while he fired his M&P at the oncoming hoard. Mom was frantically trying to pull Dad out of the car, people were running past scared for their very existence. I’m standing beside the backseat with a dumb look on my face. I can see them close now. Zombies, hundreds of them, are running down the hill, though a few seem to have lost their balance and have started rolling. People everywhere are leaving their cars and running. The same scene as on the highway just closer and in vivid detail. Flesh being ripped from bones, limbs torn asunder, people falling all around. It was death personified more than one hundred times over. It’s enough to turn your legs to putty, and freeze you where you stand.
I didn’t plan on running. There was nothing else I could do. Everyone had their own motives. Me, I couldn’t save anyone else and I wanted to live. I took one step back, then another, and another. Before I knew it I had turned and joined the running mob. Occasionally someone would slip and fall. Though people knew only death awaited them no one stopped to help. They were probably trampled to death before the zombies could get to them.

I made it behind a building, and was standing beside a back alleyway on the other side of the intersection. Looking back I could see the hoard. Unfortunately, the gap between the zombies and me hadn’t increased, they were so much closer now. The first line was at our car now. I couldn’t see my brother. I knew he might be on the ground right now with parts of him in the stomachs of the undead. My Mom, however, was in horribly clear sight. Two of them had ripped her away from the car. One holding her, the other…I couldn’t watch.

Gasping for breath I stepped backward into the alleyway out of sight of the car. My knees were useless as I slid down the ground with my back to the building. My loving parents, a life of memories with them, and probably most of people I ever knew, were all gone during one horrible morning. The gap was closing every second.

I could only think back to the news last night. They had said the zombies probably wouldn’t make it here. That they were so few in number the military should be able to stop them. At worst it was a three day walk here for them, and we should start thinking about evacuating on the off chance they did make it.

I guess my worrying wasn’t helpful, I mean, time was wasting. Fresh zombies, ‘runners’, are faster than an uninfected human, and they don’t need to stop to catch their breath. On the other hand, I couldn’t think of any reason why not worrying about it would help my situation any. No matter how you look at its not a good situation to be in.

(Cont. May 13, 8pm EST “You can’t run, but you can hide!”)

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