How are we going to get out of this? We have an army of undead all around and god knows where we are! I know that there is little to no chance of us surviving, even if we make it through this challenge, there will just be another waiting for us. And while the enemy grows with each fallen survivor our numbers only grow smaller, and our resources dwindle more and more. What’s the point in fighting, if there’s no hope of victory?

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

The Dead Chapter 2

Book 1: The Dead

Chapter 2

‘Hey Will, you listening?’
‘Sorry?’ I was snapped out of my daydreaming, ‘what did you say?’ I was at my friend’s party talking with Todd
‘I said that in any apocalypse situation-zombies, alien invasion, whatever-there are three different types of people,’ Todd loved explaining his wild theories, ‘the sheep, people who don’t do anything unless someone tells them to, if no one tells them to do anything, they won’t do anything at all.’ Todd took a big swig of his drink, he was quite drunk by this stage, he slurred on, ‘then there are the wolves, the bad guys, people who use this opportunity to gain power or control over others, or simply rob them of everything they have’
‘They sound nice,’ Wendy, Todd’s girlfriend says coming over
‘Not really,’ replies Todd, ‘But then there are the sheepdogs, people who survive this situation by sticking together and protecting their friends and family’
‘So which one would you be?’ I asked
‘Sheepdog I hope, I hope I don’t become a wolf at least,’ Todd laughed. I laughed back, ‘same here.’

Of course I wasn't remembering that conversation as I put the phone down, not even crying anymore as my father’s death brought reality to my situation. The dead were rising, people were dying, I doubt I’ll ever attend another party with my friends even if we do all survive. But that thought made me remember my friends, I picked up my phone again. First I called Sebastian, a friend of mine from university, but all I got was the voice mail  I called Nicole but got the same response. It wasn't until I called Todd that I finally got an answer, ‘Hello?’
‘Todd! Is that you? Are you alright?’ I almost shouted over the phone
‘Whoa, Will,’ Todd sound as he always did, calm and mildly amused, ‘what’s going on?’
‘Todd, you have to listen to me’- but I was cut off as he said, ‘Hey Wendy’s here too, say hello.’ He passed the phone over to Wendy who called cheerfully, ‘hey Will’
‘No Todd! Oh for Christ’s sake, Wendy you have to listen to me, there is something bad going on,’ I stood up as I began to regain control of my voice and body
‘Will, what’s wrong?’
‘Everyone who were sick recently, it’s not just the flu it’s some sort of… zombie…virus,’ I suddenly realised how ridiculous I sounded. Therefore it didn't surprise me when I got this response from Wendy, ‘ha-ha, very funny Will,’ She passed the phone back to Todd, ‘a zombie virus Will? Really?’
‘Todd, I’m being serious,’ I was getting frustrated now. Todd hung up and all I got was the dial tone, I threw the phone down in frustration. I remembered my father telling me to stay inside, but more than that I was remembering the conversation I had with Todd 1 year ago. I knew the best way to survive was to surround myself with people I trust. Also to get weapons. I knew Todd hunts and I also knew that his knowledge and theories would help, but I also knew that there was nothing I could do to convince him over the phone.

I went down to the shed and got something heavy, a long metal pole my dad used to use to break up dirt and rocks when gardening. I grabbed my mother’s car keys from the pile-my father’s car was still at the hospital-and I left my house. Or at least that was the plan, when I got to the door and put my hand on the handle and froze, what was I doing? Did I really think I could take on a zombie world with a long metal pole and a ragtag group of students? I took a deep breath, I could do this. We may be young but I’d like to think we’re smart and are quick thinkers. Besides I’d feel a lot safer with them then in the hands of the government of the police. This wasn't about fighting back this was about making myself, and my friends, as safe as possible. And in my mind the best way to do that was to stick together.

I open the door and cautiously left my home, I didn't know whether or not I’ll ever see it again, but I still didn't look back, all it was now was a memory of a world now gone. I went to the garage and open the door, and that was when I heard a sound behind me. It was the dead man that had attacked the woman, now that I saw it outside I saw its leg was broken, I could see bone, and its jaw was on an unnatural angle, somebody had obviously fought back. I was sudden I became so angry, I had never been this angry before. I walked up to it before it had a chance to gain speed or momentum and I swung the pole, and missed. The weight of the pole and its momentum made me lose my balance in my steep driveway and I tumbled down to the bottom.

The anger I was feeling was now replaced with pain, mostly in my shoulder. Before I could get up again I saw out of the corner of my eye the dead man limping toward me with increasing speed. With all the strength I could must I raised my heavy pole in an attempt to stop it. With a sickening sound the combined speed of the dead man and his momentum impaled him on the sharp end of the pole. I sat there stunned as he pointlessly swung his arms at me, unable to detach himself. I mustered my strength again and swung him and the pole off of me. I took in several deep breaths before picking myself off the floor again. As I looked down at the dead man lying on the ground trying to either stand or to grab me-but making no attempt to remove the pole-anger coursed through me again. I walked into the garage and took down one of my father’s heavier tools, some kind of saw I think, and again and again I smashed the dead man’s head with it.

I stood afterwards for a while, covered in blood and worse, pain shooting through my arm from my fall but only one thought in my mind. I had survived. I had fought a man, far more strong and resilient than me, immune to pain. And I had won. A glimmer of hope took root inside of me, and an idea formed in my head. Painstakingly I removed the heavy pole from the dead man’s chest, cleaned it and loaded it into the car, and then I grabbed a tarp, wrapped his body in it and loaded him into the car boot. If this doesn't convince Todd and Wendy then nothing will. I got into the driver’s seat and I froze once more, I didn't have my driver’s license yet, I had never gotten my hours up. For some reason my first reaction to this thought was to get the L-plates out of the glove box, until I realised that meant nothing now. ‘Come on,’ I said to myself, ‘if you can survive that fight, you can drive a car.’ I had a feeling I was going to be using that argument a lot in the near future.

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