It was just like any other day, until the black SUV went flying by, with several snarling people in tow. I dropped the bread knife, and gaped as it slammed through a metal fence, and exploded once it crashed. Several people leaped from it at the last second. The people who had run after the SUV followed them away. I couldn't believe what I had just seen. I ran out to the front porch to see better. I realized those "people"s flesh was rotting, and their skins were ugly shades of gray, brown or green. I gaped, and realized they were zombies. I ran back inside and slammed the door shut. Bad idea. Several rotting heads turned my way. I cursed under my breath. I locked it, and put a chair under the doorknob. I ran into my work room, and pulled out my shotgun from the hidden drawer. I put a box of shells in my pocket, as well as some into the shotgun. I heard pounding at the door. I put my revolver, a Colt Python, into my other pocket, and some Python rounds into my back pocket. I went out into the kitchen, where the front door was. They were the ugliest things, I'll give 'em that. They were gnawin' and scratchin' at the screen window, giving me the best evil eye anyone, or, anything can give you. I pulled out my Python, and let loose through the screen window. Most of 'em fell back, blood spurtin' from their ugly little noggins. I chuckled, when suddenly a hand burst through the screen, and gripped my throat. One had gotten a hold of me, and believe me, those things have an iron grip. I couldn't wrench myself free, and it was pulling me closer to the now broken screen window. I shoved my Python into it's eye, and pulled the trigger. An explosion of brains followed, and none of the other freaks seemed to notice. I shuddered. These things sure as hell did not feel pain, both real pain from a gunshot, nor the loss of a comrade. It was unforgivable. I finished off the rest of the crowd at my door, and suddenly I heard a window smash behind me. Now, the first zombies were slow, lumberin' morons, but this thing was like an olympic runner, and it got to me before I even got a chance to lift my shotgun. I wrestled with it for a spell, and I finally threw it against the wall. It took two seconds for it to make a leap for me again. And in those two seconds I had lifted my shotgun, and wow, was that some mid-air kill. It's head? Clean off. I couldn't help but chuckle, but then I dashed upstairs, and onto the roof. I realized I was in deeper water than I realized. It looked as if the whole state was after me. Freaks ran for my place 'till the cows came home, and I shut the door to the roof. I looked down to the yard, and realized my chair barricade was... Nevermind. I heard a loud crack, then a CRASH!!!! as the door, and the chair, gave way. Something gripped my shoulder, and I tried to whirl around, but it wrestled me forward. I tried to find my footing, but I realized I was falling. I looked up, and so was a zombie. I smiled, lifted my shotgun skyward, and fired. Then, everything went black.
On May 15th, 2011, a man was seen falling from the roof of his suburban home, zombie in tow. He was seen lifting his shotgun skyward, and firing off a single shot, killing the zombie, but then falling to his death. This man was among the many nameless killed in the zombie outbreak that would soon claim millions of lives, on a global scale.